Milo ran all the way out of the tavern.
The cold wind whipped against his face, and the wound on his temple from the shattered wine glass throbbed with pain.
But he did not even stop to wipe away the blood, feeling as though something were chasing him from behind.
Rena?
No, that wasn't Rena.
The more Milo thought about it, the more terrified he became. He stumbled, nearly tumbling into a muddy ditch by the roadside.
Night in Grey Oak Village was pitch black, with only a few oil lamps hanging beneath the eaves, swaying back and forth in the wind.
The uneasy lowing of livestock drifted from a distant stable, while the laughter from the tavern was muffled by the heavy wooden doors, sounding distant and dull.
The fear and grievance in his heart grew stronger and stronger.
In the end, Milo could only hide in a haystack, covering his ears and curling himself up as he always did.
Those people did not believe him. No one believed him.
Even though he was the one telling the truth.
He had really seen the path in the grey mist, really seen that castle, and really heard the screams of Buck and the others.
But the moment Rena returned, everything changed.
When those three badges were slammed onto the table, he had even doubted himself for a split second. Had he really misremembered?
Had he truly been deceived by the illusions of the Mist-Dwelling Forest?
But he quickly suppressed that thought.
Impossible!
There was definitely something wrong with that “Rena”!
Just then, a panting voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
“How... how do you run faster than a rabbit?”
Milo spun around, frantically drawing his dagger.
“Who's there!”
From the shadows, the figure in the dark green cloak slowly stepped out, wearing a strange mask.
The figure was not tall, shorter than an average adult, but walked with very light steps.
Milo's face paled even further when he saw the cloak.
“It's you... You were in the tavern just now.”
The other party nodded. “I witnessed everything in the tavern.”
Milo's hand trembled as he held his blade. “W-what do you want?”
“To ask for details,” the other party said calmly. “The person who came back is a little strange.”
Milo's heart leaped.
Finally, someone thought she was strange.
He was about to speak, but he saw the other party raise a hand and slowly pull back the hood and remove the mask.
In the next instant, Milo nearly fell flat on his butt in the mud.
Beneath the mask was not a human face, but the head of a rabbit.
It had snow-white short fur, long ears, round eyes, and a nose that twitched slightly.
She wore a worn human cloak, and the weapon on her back was wrapped in black cloth, looking even larger than her head.
Milo's mouth hung open, unable to utter a word for a long time.
“M-monster—”
The rabbit-headed beastkin's ears perked up, and she spoke in a serious tone:
“I am a beastkin, not a monster.”
Milo's legs went weak, and he barely managed to support himself against a wooden post to keep from falling.
A beastkin.
He had read about them in books.
To the southeast of Celantia lay the Whispering Wind Wastelands, where many beastkin tribes lived.
There were no human laws there, nor the Holy Court's rules of judgment.
The beastkin all worshipped the Horned God.
The books said that the Horned God symbolized primal power, wildness, hunting, and survival.
The beastkin believed that only by surviving in the dog-eat-dog wastelands and possessing invincible strength would they receive the Horned God's favor.
Milo had never seen a real beastkin.
In a dump like Grey Oak Village, even elves were a rare sight, let alone a beastkin from the Horn-Wind Wastelands.
Looking at that rabbit head, his voice cracked.
“P-please don't eat me.”
The rabbit-headed beastkin stared at him quietly for a moment.
“I don't eat humans.”
Milo breathed a small sigh of relief, only to hear her add:
“But in the eyes of some beastkin, humans are indeed high-end ingredients.”
Milo's vision went black, and he nearly fainted.
The rabbit-headed beastkin didn't seem to find anything wrong with her words. She took a step forward, her nose twitching slightly again.
“You smell of fear.”
Milo's voice trembled. “Of course! Who wouldn't be scared seeing a rabbit head in the middle of the night?”
The rabbit-headed beastkin lowered her head in thought, seemingly finding his words reasonable.
“My name is Kolo.”
She pointed at herself. “Whispering Wind Wastelands, White-Ear Clan. I came out specifically to gain experience.”
Milo pressed himself tightly against the wooden post, still not daring to lower his knife.
“Then why are you following me?”
Kolo looked at him. “I told you just now. I think that Rena is very strange.”
Milo slightly lowered his hand holding the knife. “How is she strange?”
Kolo thought about it. “The smell of blood on her is like a rat. It has the scent of mud and rotting straw, but no scent of the forest.”
Milo froze.
Kolo counted on her fingers, speaking very seriously:
“Coming out of a forest, there would be the smell of resin, rotting wood, and the bitterness of vine sap. She doesn't have any of that.”
Milo's breathing grew rapid. “I knew she was lying!” He looked at Kolo eagerly. “Let's go expose her together!”
Kolo's ears twitched. “You have no evidence.”
These words were like a blunt knife, stabbing into Milo's heart.
He lowered his head, the blood from his temple sliding down the side of his face and dripping into the mud.
“You're right. They all think I'm a coward. They won't believe me at all.”
Kolo nodded. “You indeed are a coward.”
Milo felt even worse.
“But cowards aren't necessarily liars.”
Milo snapped his head up.
For some reason, these words made his nose tingle, and he nearly burst into tears on the spot.
Ever since he joined the Mercenary Guild, everyone had been cursing him, laughing at him, and treating his cowardice as a joke.
Only this rabbit-headed beastkin who had suddenly appeared actually said he might be telling the truth.
Though it didn't sound particularly gentle, it was more than enough.
Milo grasped onto the last shred of hope and said hurriedly:
“Can you help me? Since you also realized she's not right, help me expose her! As long as we prove she isn't Rena, everyone will believe that what I said is true.”
Kolo did not agree immediately.
She reached out a gloved hand, making Milo freeze.
“What is this?”
“Money.”
Milo: “...”
Kolo: “I noticed that eating things here requires coins.”
Milo didn't react for a moment.
Kolo added, “I need coins.”
“So you're helping me for money?”
Kolo nodded.
“Also to gain experience. I want to enrich my journey so I can tell my younger siblings about it when I return.”
Milo opened his mouth.
He suddenly felt that although the beastkin before him looked strange, she was much easier to understand than those mercenaries in the tavern.
At least she was very straightforward about wanting money.
Other people might not just be after your money; they might also be after your life.
He fumbled around his pockets for a long time, pulling out three silver coins and a few copper coins.
This was most of his remaining savings.
It pained Milo to part with them, but at the thought of the eyes of those people in the tavern and that fake Rena, he gritted his teeth and handed over the three silver coins.
“This is all I have.”
Kolo took the silver coins, and her eyes immediately lit up.
She held the silver coins up to the moonlight to inspect them, then bit one gently with her teeth.
“They're real.”
Milo couldn't help but ask, “Have you never seen silver coins before?”
“I have,” Kolo said seriously as she put the money into a small leather pouch. “But very few people are willing to give me real ones.”
She patted the pouch, her ears twitching happily.
“Now I can finally buy carrots.”
Milo: “...”
He suddenly felt that his brief moment of emotion just now was rather redundant.
After putting away the money, Kolo's attitude became noticeably more serious.
“Tell me, how do you want me to help?”
Milo immediately perked up.
“I want to prove she's a fake.”
Kolo asked, “How?”
Milo was stumped.
He had only been thinking about someone believing him, but had never considered the specifics of what to do.
Milo's face fell again.
“I don't know...”
Kolo looked at him and suddenly asked:
“She said you encountered a treant, right?”
Milo gritted his teeth. “Yes, she's lying. We didn't go to the Mist-Dwelling Forest at all, nor did we encounter any treants.”
“Then it's simple,” Kolo said in a relaxed tone. “Have her lead you to find that treant.”
Milo froze.
Kolo continued, “If you're telling the truth, that treant is just a fabrication of hers. If you can't find the treant, it proves she's lying.”
Milo's eyes lit up bit by bit.
Of course, why hadn't he thought of that?
A treant's range of activity was limited; it wouldn't leave its territory at all.
Rena said Buck and the others died in the Mist-Dwelling Forest.
In that case, as long as she was made to lead the way to find the treant, and they couldn't find it, wouldn't that prove she was lying?
Milo was so excited his breathing quickened.
“Exactly... exactly! What she said is definitely false! As long as we prove there's no treant in the Mist-Dwelling Forest, we can prove she's lying to everyone!”
Kolo nodded. “Yes.”
Milo felt as if he had grasped the final straw, but he quickly calmed down again, saying dejectedly:
“But no one is willing to believe me now.”
He whispered, “They all think I'm a runaway. Even if I ask Rena to lead the way, no one will back me up. The Mist-Dwelling Forest is very dangerous, and they won't take risks just for me.”
Kolo thought about it. “I will speak up for you.”
Milo looked up at her, his eyes filled with gratitude.
Kolo patted the small leather pouch at her waist.
“Because I took your money,” she said very seriously. “I understand your rules. If you take money, you have to do the job. Only then can you buy fresh carrots.”
Milo stunned.
Looking at the somewhat naive rabbit-headed beastkin before him, he could barely hold back his tears.
Even if she was helping him just to buy carrots.
Even if she was just a beastkin.
But she was far more reliable than his fellow humans in the tavern who only knew how to mock him.
Milo sniffled. “You'll really help me?”
Kolo nodded. “Tomorrow, go find her. I will speak up for you.”
“She says there's a treant, so let her lead the way. If she doesn't dare to lead, then there's something wrong with her. If she dares to, we'll gather the others to follow.”
A spark of hope was rekindled in Milo's heart.
“What if she tries to kill me on the way?”
Kolo tilted her head, gesturing toward the weapon on her back:
“Then she'll have to beat me first.”
Milo remembered that the beastkin worshipped primal strength. Even the seemingly most harmless rabbit-type beastkin could shatter the skull of an ordinary wild wolf with a single kick.
Milo's Adam's apple bobbed.
For the first time, he felt that the three silver coins he had spent might actually be very well worth it.
“Alright.”
He took a deep breath, as if trying to bolster his courage.
“Tomorrow, I'll go find her.”
“I will make everyone see clearly that she is not Rena at all.”
Kolo nodded. “Mhm.”
With that, she turned to leave.
Milo asked hurriedly, “Where are you going?”
Kolo put her mask back on, her long ears hidden beneath her hood.
“To buy carrots.”
Milo: “Now?”
“There might be a fight tomorrow,” Kolo said very solemnly. “Before a fight, one must eat their fill.”
Having said her piece, she walked toward the stalls at the entrance of the village with light steps.
Milo stood in place, watching her retreating figure, his emotions in complete turmoil.
He reached up to wipe away the blood on his temple, clenching his fist tightly.
Just you wait, fake Rena!
Tomorrow, in front of everyone...
I will expose you!
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