Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 1425: Sturgeon Tavern

Shard lowered his head to examine the coins:

"What about the negative traits? Does it trigger a thunderstorm in a region?"

"Of course not. Tossing this coin into the ocean will cause a storm to rage over a vast area for at least a week. Ships trapped in the region won’t be able to escape by any means. Don’t be fooled by my casual description; in reality, this is a terrifying occurrence."

As she spoke, the girl with purple eyes asked:

"How about spending a coin to divine where the last gemstone symbolizing spring is?"

"Today is already Tuesday, and I still have an Emperor’s Banquet Coin... Alright, we can’t wait any longer."

"I told you, even if fate brings you in contact with that cemetery, sometimes we need to find ways to accelerate destiny ourselves."

Saying this, she tossed one of the Wrath of Thunder high into the air, and at its peak, it showed signs of rust. As the coin turned to flying ash and disappeared, Luviya opened her eyes and hesitantly looked at Shard:

"Maybe you’re right this time; keeping the coin unused might be the correct choice."

"Hmm? Don’t tell me, I’ve already obtained that green gemstone but haven’t realized it?"

Shard hesitantly asked:

"In the Silver Cube that still lacks the final story to unlock? Oh, I knew it, that Silver Cube once caused an earthquake in Randall Valley. The things inside must be extraordinary."

Luviya slightly shook her head:

"Of course not. I’m saying that the gemstone is currently in the local Cassandra Auction House warehouse."

Retrieving the gemstone from the warehouse doesn’t require Shard himself. He has enough affinity with Granny Cassandra and Miss Swift, so Miss Swift can handle such trivial tasks, and most likely won’t even charge Shard for the gemstone.

But the most important thing this evening is not to acquire the gemstone, but to meet Ston Osenfort. Luviya had originally intended to accompany Shard, but he refused; he still resisted Luviya having any connection with demons.

Around half past four, Shard took a carriage from the witch’s manor, spent over an hour crossing the city, and arrived at the northeastern boundary of the city, entering a small village outside the city.

It is now dinner time, and wisps of smoke rise from the chimneys above the low mud-brick houses and straw-roofed dwellings. Children with pet dogs run through the muddy paths left by melting snow, heading home, while apron-clad country women loudly call out to their still unreturned children. Men return from either the tavern or the fields and rivers, carrying hoes and fishing rods, while only the blacksmith and apprentices at the blacksmith shop continue forging by the hot furnace.

It seems as though the turbulence in Randall Valley is unable to affect this small village, or perhaps the hardships of life have left them with no time to worry about other matters.

Though this village, known as Sturgeon Village, is quite backward compared to the city, it is on the necessary path into the city, and thus the village has not only a blacksmith and merchants but also a small tavern.

The tavern is called Sturgeon Tavern, located on the southwest side of the village near the city. In front of the tavern is a road sign indicating the direction to the city, with a dried salted fish nailed below it, probably as an advertisement for the tavern.

Shard had just arrived by the road sign when he heard the lively sounds emanating from inside. In addition to the tavern, three country farmers wearing hats sat on the bench outside smoking rolled cigarettes, while two apparently drunken villagers by the stable discussed in slang which mare looked better.

The tavern had a peculiar design, with a rectangular main body and two outwardly slanted short sides, creating a small courtyard along with the fence, barn, and stable.

Stepping through the muddy ground left by melting snow, Shard pushed the door open and squinted to adjust to the lighting while almost coughing from the pungent smell of alcohol.

The small village close to the city has gas pipelines, not only are there gas lamps behind the counter, but the old-fashioned gas lamps are also hung in other areas. Clearly, the tavern owner was unwilling to waste gas expenses, so even though the tavern was bustling and full of guests, the gas lamps were not lit to full power, making some corners outside the lit areas appear dark.

The tavern’s owner was a woman in her fifties, her hair half white, for some reason wearing a string of garlic around her neck. She warmly greeted Shard, the obvious stranger passing through, and Shard curiously asked:

"Is this to ward off vampires?"

This world also has rumors that garlic can repel vampires, but Shard’s friend Mr. Benhart says that’s superstition; while he dislikes garlic, he doesn’t fear it.

"Recently, there was an outbreak of malaria in nearby villages, and the village doctor said garlic could prevent and cure it. Would you like one?"

She enthusiastically asked in slang, and Shard hurriedly shook his head:

"I have an appointment with a friend; he should be here, a well-built man who looks like a bandit... even in winter, he likes to roll up his sleeves."

"Over there."

The tavern owner pointed Shard in the right direction. Shard ordered a pint of rye beer before heading over. The tavern was made of mud-brick houses, with wooden beams and straw and tiles making up the roof. The roughly plastered walls adorned with garlic, bones, herbal medicine, peppers, and other miscellaneous objects as decoration.

Ston Osenfort sat in the deepest part of the tavern, at the corner table on the east side of the tavern building.

He leaned slightly, sitting at the east side of the clearly low table, from this angle, he could see a good portion of the tavern. His right hand held a beer, his left hand pressed down on the newspaper on the table. An oil lamp for supplementary lighting was placed on the wooden table that seemed soaked with beer stains, and beside the lamp, there were peanuts and a dish of snacks Shard couldn’t recognize:

"If I were you, I wouldn’t eat anything here."

Shard said, sitting down across from him, and also felt the bench and table were a bit low. He looked at Osenfort’s raised head; under the light of the oil lamp, that face still carried a hint of menace:

"The owner said the nearby village is having a malaria outbreak, that’s not good news."

The young tavern waiter, probably the female owner’s nephew or something, brought Shard his rye beer, but Shard didn’t touch it.

"For me, such a disease is nothing."

Osenfort gulped down a large swig of beer, then wiped his mouth with a sleeve rolled up to his elbow. It’s rare to see a big merchant do that; although he’s made money, his living habits remain the same.

"For you, malaria is nothing too, right?"

Osenfort asked Shard again, and Shard shook his head slightly:

"I had a high fever all night last week; even for me, it’s impossible to be immune to all diseases... but let’s not talk about this."

Shard took out two small paper packages from his pocket, containing a "Carsonrick Third-Class Battle Hero Medal" and a sapphire earring with a drop of Osenfort’s blood.

"Take a look, are these what you’re looking for?"

Shard asked, and Osenfort then put down his cup, inspecting under the light of the kerosene lamp on the table:

"No problem, they are indeed what I’m looking for."

He nodded and asked Shard again:

"I thought you’d bring them back in a box; it’s unusual to wrap them in paper."

"Don’t jewelry boxes cost money?"

Osenfort chuckled:

"Though when I entrusted you with the task, I thought you might succeed; I never expected you really would."

Saying that, he wanted to put the two items in his pocket, but Shard reached out to hold his hand:

"Wait, I’ve fulfilled my promise; now it’s your turn. You said you have clues about [Genesis: Earth], you know who has the card."

Right behind Shard was the lively tavern; villagers who had been busy all day sat together, boasting about their fresh experiences. The village sheriff and the village chief sat together, complaining about the firewood lost at the village entrance, unaware of what the two in the corner were discussing.

"You surely wouldn’t tell me."

Shard spoke slowly, eyeing the man across from him:

"That card is in the hands of the guy behind you."

"Of course not, shame, that guy doesn’t appreciate Roder Cards."

Osenfort said as he withdrew his hand from Shard’s grip:

"I really know the whereabouts of that card, I’m not deceiving you, I rarely lie—[Genesis: Earth], it’s right here with me."

"Are you playing me?"

Shard frowned slightly.

"Playing you? You helped me get what I wanted, and I told you the whereabouts of [Genesis: Earth], wasn’t that our initial agreement?"

"But when we met in front of the burning warehouse, you said [Genesis: Earth] wasn’t with you (Chapter 1253)."

"Yes, it wasn’t with me at the time, it was in my drawer. And now, it’s in my pocket."

Osenfort chuckled, raised his glass again, and toasted Shard:

"I also mentioned back then, I was confident I could persuade the holder of [Genesis: Earth] to let you have the card; that’s no lie, I’m good at convincing myself. You really want that card? Yes, no one wouldn’t want it; for all Roder Card players, it’s a treasure worth giving up everything for. And now you have a chance, promise me one thing, and the card will be yours."

"Again?"

Shard crossed the oil lamp in the center of the table, holding the handle of his own glass, squinting at him:

"I won’t help you find anything anymore. I don’t know if you’re adept at reading emotions from facial expressions, but I can tell you I’m quite angry right now."