✓ Operating log of the Tavern of the Dead

68

These adventurers were no different from most of the people who came here, wearing cloaks, carrying simple bags, and carrying weapons with signs of wear.

Susie thought back to their files for a moment, remembering that the men hadn't even arrived with the same team, two of them were Lone Rangers, and one had arrived via the teleportation array with the merchants of the Floating Island.

The adventurer at the lead, the one who came from the floating island, gently took off his cloak. It was a somewhat old traveler, and he had a pair of very pale white-gold pupils—a characteristic of the Sun Elf bloodline.

He saluted Susie and handed her a scroll.

Confused, Susie carefully took the scroll and gently unfolded it—the parchment scroll was so old that it looked fragile in her hand even if it had been properly preserved.

Even though the brushstrokes of the past have become blurred by time, Susie still recognizes them.

- It's the tree and the castle.

The painter's overflowing love and nostalgia penetrates the back of the paper, seeping through the already dull and cloudy paint.

Susie raised her head, and the half-blood elf smiled at Susie, and a shy look appeared on her face that was no longer young: "It's very presumptuous to ask that, but can we settle here?"

Dragons have a long life and a unique bloodline, and the ancestors' observations and knowledge have flowed through time, generation after generation, in their bloodlines. So in the depths of the Red Dragon Queen's memory, there are still fragments of stars twinkling.

But that was too far from the past, and even the dragon had only grasped a little bit of the old glory.

The other races didn't last that long, and those glittering memories were sung among the wanderers, becoming the father's bedtime story, the grandfather's old tune, the ancestors' imaginary legends—

Stories recorded in books and oral accounts are the most easily scattered, wars, migrations, declines, the loss of the Wangmen aristocracy after a few generations, the sale of precious collections by the descendants of the Fallen Frontier, the descendants of legendary adventurers may no longer hold the sword and halberd, and many more are sleeping in the midst of the journey.

It's been too long.

Generations have passed since the bard's epic protagonists sang, the landmarks that were once known by heart have been changed beyond recognition, forests have become river valleys, swamps have turned into deserts, like a heavy book that has finally been closed and locked to the very bottom of a box, covered in layers of dust, and lost its key.

Eventually, they lost those pasts.

But it's not like nothing has been left behind.

It could be a vague tune, or a broken page of a story, or a volume of old drawings. In this way, those deep, passionate emotions have been polished to sparkle through the long years.

There will always be people who are attracted to this, like moths to a fire, carrying their bags and looking for the end point that does not know where to exist-

Until now, they finally saw the moon tree that the wandering wanderer had dreamed of, but never saw each other again until he died.

"Hey—" Susie hesitated, but said, "Of course you can stay, but it may not be as good as you think."

"I got this scroll from my grandfather's relics." The half-blood elf shook his head slightly, and calmly narrated, "I have traveled through many places, forests, plains, valleys, and all the ruins I can set foot on, but I have not found a trace of its existence. I was about to give up, but I got a message from the dragon not long ago.

He laughed happily: "It's bigger and more beautiful than I thought... It's so nice to see it alive. I'm not young anymore, but I should be able to watch a little longer, and what could be more exciting than witnessing a miracle?

Susie thought for a moment and didn't persuade again: "Do you have any gifts?"

Aldro was given a silver ring, half a bottle of dwarven spirits, a dagger studded with white crystals, two flasks of ubiquitous potions, and a feathered twig characteristic of the Moon Forest.

The bone dragon carefully circled the fragmentary gifts in front of him, leaned his head closer to the visitor, and said happily, "Oh, you're really back!"

He looked at this, then at that, and then, the soul fire flashed a little embarrassed and frustrated, and he flicked his tail unnaturally: "Ah... I'm like, I'm like, I don't remember you anymore.

The half-blood elf didn't refute either, he said, "After all, it's been too long, but it's not too late to get to know each other again?"

The dragon thought about it, and soon became happy again: "Yes!

The dragon and his old friend, even if it's an old friend, reintroduce themselves, and then Aldro enthusiastically introduces the old friend to his little friend.

The dragon has a good memory, and he recounts a lot of stories that belong to the old people: this archer once shot through the head of the fire demon with an arrow, and the magician walked alone through the dwarven underworld... Most of these deeds come from old friends, and there is far more bragging than truth. Now the listeners of the past have become the tellers, and no one cares whether the stories are true or not.

Even if it's fake, legends are legends because they have a fascinating charm.

Susie didn't bother with the reminiscences between the dragon and her friends (?). She walked through the bustling shopping streets, bought a berry wrapped in maple syrup from a vendor, poured two, and gave the rest to the old orcs passing by.

After biting into the maple sugar icing, the sweetness and sourness of the spring berries themselves overflowed, and Susie licked her lips and casually stuffed another candy to Raphael. The Death Knight looked a little helpless, but ate the candy anyway.

One of the merchants was playing the piano and singing, much better than Frank's lame level, and he was probably singing a somewhat famous tune, and Susie noticed that many people were humming along with it.

It's so hilarious.

Susie thought.

This vivid sight makes one can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, and although it is not very appropriate, she deeply feels a joy of capital accumulation.

Actually, it's not wrong - Susie's points savings are rising silently, and the store generates taxes every day, and although the merchants only stay here, every transaction they make will bring Susie a small but real point income.

It's good to be able to make money lying down. The lord let out a soul sigh.

She walked out of the city along the street, where the grass was struggling to grow in the clearing of the outer ring, and it might not be long before she could try her hand at grazing her flocks.

Suddenly, a prompt box popped up.

[Your farmland fence has been damaged.] 】

Susie:......?

What's going on, Aldro is still holding a reminiscence story meeting in the square?

The author has something to say: ... I overestimated my hand speed again (.

But after thinking about it, I still have a lot of yards today, and I don't know if I can struggle again tomorrow (x

My hands may be the most dish-eating hand in Jinjiang...