Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 175 - 166 - The Explorer of Sets

Hamlet Town did not have solid high walls, possibly because the Duke did not reside within the town.

The Duke’s mansion was halfway up a desolate mountain peak, while Hamlet Town lay at the foot of the mountain. The town’s buildings were all low houses, with the tallest inn not exceeding three stories. In the town center, there stood a statue of a tall and handsome man, undoubtedly the Duke of Hamlet.

The buildings in the town were dilapidated, some with walls that had collapsed. In the relatively intact houses, each household had nailed wooden boards over their doors and windows.

When Lyle and the others entered Hamlet Town, this was the scene that greeted them.

It was morning, and the overcast clouds above obscured the sun. Not a single soul could be seen on the streets of the whole town. As for those houses sealed with wood, filled with darkness inside, Lyle did not approach them. The entire town was enveloped in a bizarre and frightening atmosphere, like a ghost town.

The trio crossed over the low guardrail of Hamlet. The space where the gate used to be was now obstructed by clutter and impassable. Underneath the Plague Doctor’s black coat, the flowing Nia crawled back down into his pant leg.

"There’s no danger," he murmured.

Since it was the selection for the inheritor of Hamlet, as the inheritor, Kevin definitely had to reveal his identity openly. Since Lyle might use Necromancy Spells and needed to conceal his identity, that left William to play the role of Kevin’s servant. This was perhaps the most appropriate way, as both of these guys looked decent enough.

The three stood on the edge of the town, blowing in the cold wind—this damned ghostly weather when it was clearly still summer.

"Damn it, are there no living people here?"

"There are," an elderly voice, like a chill breeze hanging from an ice cellar, brushed against the backs of the three.

It was an old man as thin as a rake, his sparse white hair reminiscent of camel thorns in the desert, tufted here and there. His skin was withered, with extremely severe bags under his eyes, as if weighed down by invisible lead weights. He wore a tattered black robe that enveloped his wrinkled head, huddled into a black armchair, sitting behind a mud wall to escape the cold wind. His eyes, large and small, stared at the three figures moving forward.

"You must be new inheritors. I am Hamlet’s registrar, come here and sign your name," he said.

"Oh." Kevin wrote his name on the yellowed scroll.

Concerned by the old man’s gaunt body, Kevin couldn’t help expressing his concern.

"Old sir, how did Hamlet choose you to be the registrar? Where have all the young lads gone?"

The old man did not answer this question but instead revealed a sinister smile and showed his yellow teeth. He spoke of unrelated matters.

"I used to be Hamlet’s Tomb Guardian, but that job has been out of luck, so I took this post to get by," he stated, as he showed Kevin a palm-sized square stone from his pocket.

"Twenty silver coins."

Kevin understood what the old man meant. "Why don’t you just rob someone? Your stone here is worth twenty silver coins? What kind of expensive nonsense is this?"

The old man’s laughter became grating and eerie.

"Your tombstone, give me twenty silver coins, and I’ll carve your name on it. At least when you’re dead, you’ll still have a stone, right?"

Kevin didn’t get angry at the old man’s words, which carried a hint of a curse. His fear suppressed his emotions—this place was very sinister.

They treated the old man’s words as if they were a joke, and the scene that had just unfolded as if nothing happened. The old man rocked in his chair, toying with the piece of stone in his hands.

"If you’re looking for a place to rest, go to the inn. The people of Hamlet don’t like strangers. Just leave the lodging fee on the counter of the inn. If you really can’t stand it, you can go straight to the Duke’s mansion on the mountainside. There are plenty of empty rooms there for you to stay in."

The trio continued their journey. The old man remained in his rocking chair. Despite his odd temperament, the fact that someone spoke eased the tension among the three quite a bit.

"How shall we proceed, to the inn or directly to the Duke’s mansion?"

"The inn. Don’t you remember what Serio’s letter said? If Hamlet Town is this eerie, the Duke’s mansion, which studies wicked rituals, must be even more terrifying than this place," Lyle replied.

"Of course, we don’t have to rush to the inn. I suggest we take a look around first to assess the dangers," he added.

Quickly deciding on a new course, they prepared to embark, but William called out to Kevin before they could depart.

His expression was more serious than ever before.

"Kevin, I suppose you’ve noticed as well that your journey as an heir isn’t as simple as it seems. Moving forward, we might encounter dangers beyond our imagination. If it really comes to that, I will abandon you. I will leave you to fend for yourself."

"William..."

"I’m not about to throw away my life for mere wealth," he asserted.

"I understand, and I wouldn’t either. If we truly encounter a terror we cannot face, then let us shamefully run away."

Fleeing may be shameful, but it’s effective!

————————————

The three made their way along the outskirts of Hamlet Town, where not a single living creature could be seen.

In the midst of this oppressive atmosphere, a rustling sound came from the bushes ten meters away from the trio.

William gripped his magic wand tightly, Lyle prepared his curse, Nia’s liquid tentacles already flowing on the ground, and Kevin’s swallowing sounds.

A wooden lantern exuding a white light protruded from the underbrush.

A humanoid with white hair and elongated ears came into view, and from those ears, Lyle deduced his race: an Elf. However, his pale skin was quite unusual.

After a standoff that lasted for a while, Lyle and the others let out a sigh of relief.

"It’s not easy to find a living person around here, sir," they remarked.

The white-haired, long-eared Elf lowered his lantern, his eyes thoughtful as he gazed at Lyle’s bird-beak mask.

"Fannila, they are not enemies."

Just then, from another bush beside the trio, closest to William, an Elf girl with a bow and arrow emerged.

It turned out, Heinz had been luring the enemy.

"Eh? Are you the same Andurai from that time?!" the Elf girl exclaimed as she recognized Lyle.

Lyle too remembered the Elf’s identity, no doubt William was equally surprised.

"The Fey Jumping Elf Girl!"

"I’m not any Fey Jumper! My name is Fannila!" the lively female Elf brushed off the comment and scanned the people beside Lyle. "Andurai, where is that lecherous clown friend of yours?"

Lyle glanced at William, who was beginning to sweat profusely, "We’ve parted ways."

"Hmph, lucky for him."

Witnessing his niece suddenly getting angry for some reason, Heinz extended his palm, faintly glowing with a white light.

"Hello, I am the Withering Druid, Heinz."

"Greetings, Mr. Heinz, I am the Plague Doctor."

The handshake was brief.

"Plague Doctor, do you know Mr. Wind Fury? An Andurai."