CHAPTER 112: FRAUD?

Orman himself stuck with Gara, exploring deeper into the forest.

By the time Gara’s cloth pouch was full, some Liners had already returned for a second trip. They looked far more exhausted than the first time.

"Isn’t there a river below? Near the villagers’ herb fields, there should be one, right?" Gara asked, puzzled.

"There is," Orman nodded, "but the villagers here believe if the villagers from Bota Village draw water from the same spot, their supply will be contaminated. We Liners have to follow the same rule if we don’t want to clash with the locals."

"But the river flows downstream anyway. What’s the difference?"

"It doesn’t matter. They think it’s a curse. The important thing is they never take water from the same place."

Gara could only shake his head. Superstition existed everywhere.

Before long, they reached the foot of the mountain. A few Liners lounged in front of a shed or under the trees, while others prepared to climb up again.

"They’re water-based Liners, right?" Gara guessed, pointing at those resting.

Orman nodded. "Yeah. They can’t create as much water as you at once, but they can produce a little at a time.

They only need to climb once, then slowly generate water afterward. By the end of the day, they can gather about a hundred liters."

By the time Fian and Kevio came back with their last buckets, Gara was still wandering around looking for herbs.

From a distance, Narin quietly observed him. He wasn’t a herbalist, but as a healer specializing in neutralizing toxins, he could recognize a few plants Gara had picked. It was poisonous plants.

"So he’s just a fraud of a herbalist," Narin muttered under his breath.

...

The liner squad finally returned to Bota after several hours. This time, though, they had to walk back on foot. The carriage was loaded with the water barrels.

On the way, hardly anyone spoke. Everyone was simply too exhausted.

Only those at the very front—Kian, Gara, Fian, and Orman—didn’t look all that worn out.

Once they reached the village, a few water-based liners grabbed buckets and sat on the wooden benches outside the dormitory, filling them slowly.

Gara, however, went straight to the hundred-liter barrel and filled it in one go, water rushing in until it was brimming.

Some of the liners couldn’t hide their amazement. Even Narin kept quiet, not only because of fatigue but also because he didn’t want to be compared. Her water amount couldn’t compete with that beautiful young man. Still, she believed her overall talent was more useful.

Only after Gara stepped out of the water storage did Narin call after him.

"Gara, will you give your herbal medicine to the patients at the clinic?"

"If it’s necessary, I will," Gara replied, his tone perfunctory.

Narin’s expression shifted; her lashes lowered as she spoke with quiet sadness. "But... I know the patients are villagers, but you can’t just treat them carelessly."

Her words stirred a low murmur among the other Liners. Gara’s brows furrowed.

Before he could answer, Narin cut in. "The poisonous plant you brought down from the mountain will only make—"

She paused, letting the silence hang for dramatic effect.

"That’s exactly why he’s an herbalist," Orman interrupted, voice firm. "To find other uses for plants others would call poisonous. Best not to talk foolishly when you don’t know what you’re saying."

"F-fool—?" Narin’s face flushed bright red. She huffed, glaring around at the other Liners, but none moved to support her. They only watched, unwilling to get involved.

Gara gave a quiet chuckle, then turned to Orman, ignoring her entirely. "We’ll head back, first."

Without another glance at Narin, Gara and Fian left the Liner camp.

On their way home, Gara was contacted by Hilda.

"Master, I’ve purchased the slave you chose. But..." There was hesitation at the end of her words.

Gara cut in before she could continue. "I know you’re uncertain. But you also recommended that candidate because you believe she can work well, right?"

"Yes, Master... I know she can. But the truth is, I..." Hilda’s voice faltered even more.

"I understand. I trust you," Gara interrupted again.

Hilda had suggested three slaves to him, one of them an omega werewolf, known to be weaker than most.

Perhaps Hilda had chosen her out of sympathy, since both of them were non-humans forced into slavery in human territory.

Even so, Gara was sure Hilda wouldn’t choose someone incapable. Weak or not, that omega would still be able to do her work properly.

When Gara entered the house, he told Wina about the slave who would soon assist them.

"Mom, tomorrow, after I provide the water, I’ll head back here to help Madha look after the triplets. You can go to Falopo Town and form a soul oath with the slave," he said, just as Wina returned from washing the babies’ cloth diapers.

Wina nodded. "After that, we can distribute food supplies to the villagers together. The village chief wants us to hand them out ourselves, so the others will know who we are."

...

At the fork road, where one path was narrower than the rest, four horses stopped. Four men sat astride them, one at the front cloaked in exquisite white.

"There’s druid scent lingering here," murmured the man in front.

"S-Seems the information we received was true, M-Master Silvan," stammered the other man.

They are druids who serve as envoys in Raksa County, and were now pursuing the Sinner, who was likely in this small village.

Earlier, on the road to Falopo Town, they’d caught wind of something from the town guard: eight months ago, when investigating an illegal crystal-refining factory, a guard had spotted someone secretly living deep in the untouched mountain. No matter how much they searched, the person vanished as though merged with the land itself.

If the timeline matched... that druid might have been living there all along, right up until recently, when that druid gave birth.

"B-But Master, the town guard captain here is Tristan Cakra. He once served directly under Gavin Eshaan," Rais informed.

"Eshaan?" Silvan’s brow furrowed. "That’s the man responsible for the Sacred Hunt sixteen years ago, isn’t he?"

"Y-Yes, Master."

"Any suspicious movements from him?"

"H-He personally inspected the mountain eight months ago."

"Could it be he’s helping to hide Lady Vita’s illegitimate child up there?" Silvan muttered, then shook his head. "No. If that really was Lady Vita’s child, he wouldn’t allow the slightest rumor to leak."

"R-Right, Master. Lady Vita’s child must be dead by now. His whereabouts haven’t been found for more than a dozen years."

"Whether it’s Lady Vita’s bastard or another sinner entirely, we’ll know it later. Let’s confirm with the village chief first."

Silvan spurred his horse forward, the other three following close behind.

...