Chapter 50 A Fathers Request
It was the middle of the afternoon, and I was sitting at the back of a moving wagon, quietly watching the road behind us.
After leaving Dilenia, I had decided to travel toward my next destination.
I turned around and looked toward the man driving the wagon.
"Thanks again for giving me a ride, sir."
The man gave a warm chuckle.
"Hoho, it was nothing, kid. Glad I could help."
The man was a 65-year-old farmer with a sturdy build and a weathered face from years of working under the sun. His short, grayish-brown hair was mostly hidden beneath a worn straw hat. A few wrinkles surrounded his eyes, giving him a friendly and experienced appearance.
He wore a simple brown shirt with rolled-up sleeves, along with dark trousers and old leather boots. His hands were rough and calloused from years of farming, while a small cloth was wrapped around one of his wrists.
Despite his age, he handled the reins with ease, guiding the wagon along the dirt road.
I leaned back against the wooden frame of the wagon and watched the countryside pass by.
The fields stretched far into the distance, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.
For the first time since leaving Dilenia...
Things felt peaceful.
"Alright then, let's start, shall we"
I took a deep breath and activated my [Skill Weaving].
Then-
BEEP!
A blue translucent screen immediately appeared in front of me, floating in the air.
Several lines of glowing text appeared across the screen, displaying the skills I currently possessed.
I stared at the screen for a moment.
"Now, let's start with the skill the Goddess told me about."
I moved my finger across the screen and selected the empty input field.
I typed in the name of the skill.
[Skill Rewrite]
A new window appeared, displaying its description.
[Skill Rewrite]
A unique skill that allows the user to modify, reprogram, improve, and restructure their existing unique skills.
The user can alter a skill's functions, remove flaws, improve its efficiency, and add new properties, provided the user possesses sufficient understanding and mana.
Up to three skills can be rewritten simultaneously.
The rewriting process requires 72 hours to complete.
I stared at the description.
"So this is the skill the Goddess was talking about."
I smiled slightly.
"With this, I should be able to fix the problem with [Non-Stop Cultivation]."
"So I can rewrite three skills..."
I rubbed my chin.
"Just like when I create them."
I looked at the remaining information.
"And it only takes three days?"
A small smile appeared on my face.
"Not bad."
I paused for a moment before another thought crossed my mind.
"Huh..."
I scratched my head.
"Come to think of it, I don't have any healing skills yet."
I looked back at the blue screen.
"Alright, then. Let's see if this works."
I opened another input field and began typing.
[Divinity Healing]
The moment I finished typing, the screen changed.
[Divinity Healing]
A divine healing skill capable of restoring the user's body from physical injuries and illnesses.
The skill can rapidly heal wounds, repair damaged organs, restore broken bones, and remove diseases, toxins, and harmful conditions affecting the body.
The skill is also capable of regeneration.
Severed limbs can be reattached if the separated body part remains intact.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Alright..."
I continued reading.
The greater the damage, the greater the mana consumption.
Severe injuries require greater concentration and mana to completely restore.
I nodded.
"That's useful."
I began modifying the skill.
"Now, let's add something to the healing..."
I opened another window.
[Full Resistance]
The screen displayed the skill's description.
[Full Resistance]
A defensive skill that grants the user immunity against harmful internal and external influences.
The user's body becomes resistant to poisons, toxins, diseases, burns, frostbite, extreme temperatures, corrosive substances, paralysis, and other harmful effects.
The skill continuously protects the user's body by preventing harmful substances and environmental effects from damaging the user's internal systems.
I stared at the description.
"That should cover most things."
I moved my finger toward the confirmation button.
"Let's see if it actually works."
I clicked [Enter].
The screen suddenly changed.
A smaller blue window appeared in front of me.
[Skill creation Process Started]
[Skills Being created: 3]
[Estimated Completion Time:]
[168:00:00]
The timer immediately began counting down.
167:59:59...
167:59:58...
I stared at the timer.
"One week..."
I leaned back slightly and looked over the list of skills I had created.
"Man..."
I scratched the back of my head.
"I've been creating a lot of skills lately..."
I stared at the screen.
"And I haven't even had a chance to use some of them yet."
I let out a small sigh.
"At this rate, I'm going to have more skills than I know what to do with."
"Hey, kid. You're an adventurer, aren't you?" the old man asked.
I turned to look at him.
"Yeah, I am."
The farmer gave a small nod before returning his attention to the road.
"Since I'm doing you a favor and all, can you do one for me as well? I'm not charging you for the ride. I just need your help with something."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Sure. What is it?"
The old man was silent for a moment.
He tightened his grip on the reins as the wagon continued along the dirt road.
"Well... how can I put this?"
He let out a slow breath.
"It's a long story."
I leaned slightly forward.
"But it all started with a young woman..."
His voice became quieter.
"Twenty years ago."
I looked at him, confused.
"A young woman?"
"Yes."
The farmer's expression darkened.
"Her name was Elara."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"She was the kind of woman everyone in our town loved. Beautiful, gentle, and always willing to help someone in need. She would bring food to the elderly, help farmers with their children, and even spend her free time tending to injured animals."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Whenever she walked through the town, people would greet her. Children would run toward her, and the old women would invite her into their homes for tea."
He sighed.
"She was loved by almost everyone."
"Almost?"
The farmer's smile disappeared.
"Yes."
He stared ahead.
"There was one person who didn't simply admire her."
His hands tightened around the reins.
"He wanted her."
I immediately understood who he meant.
"The mayor?"
The old man nodded.
"Our mayor had been watching her for years. He never said anything openly, but everyone could see the way he looked at her."
His voice became colder.
"Then she fell in love with someone else."
I remained silent.
"A young man from the town. They were both young, happy, and completely devoted to each other."
The farmer gave a quiet chuckle.
"When they announced that they were going to marry, the whole town celebrated. People brought them gifts. Families congratulated them. Even the children were excited."
He paused.
"Everyone was happy for them."
"Everyone except the mayor."
The farmer's eyes hardened.
"Not long after that, the young man suddenly died."
My expression changed.
"Died?"
"Yes."
"He was found near the edge of the forest."
The farmer's voice became lower.
"There were injuries on his body. Enough that everyone knew something had happened to him."
"People immediately suspected murder."
The wagon continued rolling as the farmer spoke.
"But before anyone could investigate, the mayor stepped in."
"He told everyone the young man had been attacked and killed by a monster."
I frowned.
"A monster?"
"That's what he claimed."
The farmer shook his head.
"But there were no monster tracks. No witnesses. Nothing that proved his story."
"Still, no one could challenge him."
The farmer looked down at his hands.
"The mayor had power. Money. Guards who answered to him."
He sighed.
"And then, only a month after the young man's death..."
He paused.
"The young woman became the mayor's bride."
The sound of the wagon wheels seemed strangely loud.
"That's when everyone knew something was wrong."
"People whispered that the mayor had killed the young man."
"They believed he had removed the only person standing between himself and the woman he wanted."
"But nobody dared accuse him."
The farmer's voice trembled slightly.
"And the young woman..."
He looked away.
"She wasn't the same anymore."
"She barely spoke. She stopped smiling. She stopped visiting people."
"She simply became a shadow of the woman everyone once knew."
Then one morning...
"The entire town woke to terrible news."
The farmer swallowed.
"She had been found dead near the lake."
I stared at him.
"What happened to her?"
The old man's face became grim.
"Nobody knows."
"Her body was covered in scars."
He paused.
"Deep ones."
"Some looked like they had been made by a knife. Others looked like she had been dragged across the ground."
His grip tightened around the reins.
"And there were burns across parts of her body."
I frowned.
"Burns?"
"Yes."
The farmer nodded slowly.
"No one could explain them."
"The mayor claimed he knew nothing about it."
"But no one believed him."
The old man looked toward the distant forest.
"Everyone in town believed he had killed her."
"Yet again, nobody dared confront him."
He fell silent for several seconds.
"But then..."
His voice dropped to almost a whisper.
"People started seeing her."
I looked at him.
"Her?"
"The young woman."
The farmer nodded.
"At first, it was only one person."
"A hunter claimed he saw a woman standing between the trees late at night."
"She was wearing the same dress the young woman had been buried in."
"The hunter called out to her."
The farmer's eyes narrowed.
"But when she turned around..."
He stopped.
"What?"
The old man looked at me.
"He said her face was covered in blood."
I felt a chill run down my spine.
"The hunter ran."
"He never went into those woods again."
"But that wasn't the last sighting."
"More people began seeing her."
"Sometimes she was standing beneath the trees."
"Sometimes she was walking along the road."
"And sometimes..."
The farmer's voice became almost inaudible.
"People claimed they saw her standing beside the lake."
"The same place where her body had been found."
I looked toward the road ahead.
"And then the town began to change."
The farmer's expression darkened.
"The crops started dying."
"Fields that had once produced more food than we needed began turning black."
"Plants withered overnight."
"Animals became sick."
"Some livestock were found dead without any visible wounds."
"Then other things began happening."
"People started disappearing."
"Families began hearing footsteps outside their homes at night."
"Some claimed they heard a woman's voice whispering their names from the darkness."
"And every time someone went looking..."
The farmer shook his head.
"There was nothing there."
"Just footprints."
"Sometimes human."
"Sometimes..."
He hesitated.
"Not quite."
I remained silent.
"People began calling it an omen."
"Some said the forest had been cursed."
"Others said the mayor's crimes had brought something terrible upon the town."
"But there was one story people whispered more than any other."
The farmer looked toward the dark forest in the distance.
"They said the young woman's spirit had returned."
"Not as the kind and beautiful woman everyone remembered..."
His voice became cold.
"But as something that had nothing left inside it except hatred."
"They said she was searching for the man who had taken everything from her."
"The man responsible for her death."
"The mayor."
The farmer fell silent.
For several moments, the only sound was the wagon's wheels rolling across the dirt road.
Then he quietly said,
"And that's where my favor comes in, kid."
I looked at him.
"What do you want me to do?"
The old man finally broke the silence.
"I want you to find out what really happened to that young woman..."
His voice was calm, but there was a faint sadness buried beneath his words.
"And bring her killer to justice."
I looked at him for a moment.
"I see."
I leaned back against the wooden frame of the wagon, thinking about everything he had just told me.
Then a question came to mind.
"But can I ask you one question?"
The old man glanced back at me.
"What is it?"
"Do you have any relationship with that woman?"
I paused before asking my second question.
"And why do you want justice for her death?"
The old man didn't answer immediately.
His hands slowly tightened around the reins.
For several seconds, he remained completely silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Then he lowered his head slightly.
When he finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm.
"Because..."
He paused.
"...it's a father's duty to bring his daughter's killer to justice."
I stared at him.
The old man continued driving as if he hadn't just revealed something that completely changed the story.
Then he quietly asked,
"Is that wrong?"