That's right, that's what adventure is like!

Chapter 122 Epilogue

Twilight Quadruple.

The gray-blue sky pressed down on the rooftops, and the distant noise of a crowd was dispersed by a slightly chilly breeze, settling into the wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys on both sides of the street.

Roland pushed open the door of a tavern in the corner.

At this time of day, the place would normally be bustling with noise, a mix of adventurers' boasts, bards' music, and gamblers' shouts, all mingled with the smell of cheap ale.

But today, he was greeted only by the cold air and a seat that was mostly empty.

A few scattered customers huddled in a corner, slowly sipping the fine wines stored at the bottom of the wine cabinet. Occasionally, a few laughs could be heard, short and dry, quickly dissipating into the air.

The only remaining waitress stood behind the counter, absentmindedly wiping glasses and glancing at the clock on the wall every now and then, clearly waiting for her shift to be changed.

Roland sat down by the window.

He didn't order any food, but like the other drinkers, he ordered a bottle of the best wine and sipped it slowly.

He doesn't really know much about wine quality, nor does he know how to drink it to get the best flavor; he's just here to kill time.

All preparations were complete, the team recommended by Hogg had been connected, and there was still a whole day left, but Roland didn't know what to do.

He had almost no friends. The only ones he could talk to were the three orc brothers, but the address they left behind was long gone, and they had left no trace.

Therefore, he came here.

This unnamed tavern, tucked away in a corner of the main street of Broken Rock Town, is a good place, untouched by the vagrants.

More importantly, it was here that he took his first step into the adventure.

A month ago, he sat in a corner, not even bothering to order a glass of ale, only coming there to warm himself, with only an iron sword at his waist.

Now, he sits by the window, drinking the most expensive wine, the air filled with the warmth of spring, his body bearing many scars and honors, and his iron sword reborn.

He remembered everything: the pitiful, cunning goblin; the woman sitting behind the counter, too lazy to pay him any attention; the ghoul in the blessed cemetery; the magic circle in the Black Ash Dungeon—

Those people all left before him.

The wine is finished.

Roland put down the cup and sat for a while longer.

Someone hurried past the window, their footsteps quickly swallowed by the evening breeze.

He stood up, walked to the counter, and gave them an extra gold coin on top of the original price.

The waitress looked at him, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something.

He spoke first, saying, "This drink is good."

Then he turned around, pushed open the side door, and stepped back into the night.

The door creaked, just like a month.

The outside was the same as before, except there was more garbage piled up high, emitting a stench. Several red-eyed rats stood in the middle, watching him silently.

Roland went out into the street.

He passed by the cheap hotel where he had stayed for a few days, and the orc at the front desk was spitting at the guest in front of him, displeased with his complaint.

He passed by the Adventurers' Guild, where a young girl saw him, winked at him, and then continued to sell secondhand equipment to another desperate newcomer.

He passed by the clinic where he had been treated once. The owner, "Addicted Wolf," was still the same as before, coldly pouring scalding hot homemade medicine onto the injured person. The screams carried far through the door.

He passed by Echo Antiques, where a notice on the door said it was closed for the day, and he wondered when it would reopen.

He passed by the Tumbleweed House, where the red-haired waiter stood at the door, ostentatiously posting a notice recruiting "special service personnel," which drew whispers from the crowd.

He passed a slave shop where a strange man with a mustache was describing the power of the bear goblin and the benefits of employing it as an adventure companion.

As he passed by the mine, he saw through a gap in the fence that Aleta was inside saying goodbye to an old woman and leaving behind many silver coins.

Finally, he stood in front of the bulletin board where his wanted poster had once been, staring at the most recently posted notice.

"From this day forward, Broken Rock Town will be under the direct jurisdiction of the Empire. The former guards of the Kingdom of Kaiser will be incorporated into the Imperial Army. The Town Hall will suspend all its functions."

"The official announcement will be issued in three days."

The signature was that of the newly appointed CFO, and it also featured an imperial-style seal that had never been seen before.

Roland stood in front of the bulletin board for a long time.

Only a few people knew that the first thing announced in that official notice was the cancellation of the existence of Broken Rock Town.

Three hundred years.

From "God's Pity Town" to "Broken Rock Town," from the pride of the kingdom to a vassal of the empire, in the end, it only takes a few pieces of paper and a few stamps to erase its existence.

Later, it will become a gathering place for the homeless, a supply point for a few travelers, and a red dot on the map of the empire.

But there will be no more "Broken Rock Town".

A hand gently tugged at the hem of his clothes.

Roland turned around and looked over.

Aletta stood behind him, her hood obscuring most of her face, and the scales seemed to have been concealed by some means, no longer shimmering.

She was holding the tattered cloth bag the old woman had given her; it was bulging and full, and she didn't know what was inside.

"Have you finished reading?" Roland asked.

Aletta nodded.

Roland didn't ask any more questions. He stepped forward, his boots making a steady sound as they landed on the cobblestones.

Aletta followed closely behind him, her steps light, yet she didn't fall behind.

Neither of them turned around.

They walked through the alley, past the service industry shop, where pink lights had been turned on again, familiar yet strange, as if it had changed owners.

They walked through the shopping street, where most of the shops on both sides were closed. Only a few, like the Mithril Corridor, were still open, but they were about to relocate.

They reached the end of the street and smelled the grilled sausages they had eaten before. The plump female shop owner had saved enough money to open a noodle shop instead of living a life of hardship.

Roland led Aletta inside and ordered the same food as before: a few grilled sausages, a large piece of white bread, and a small bowl of sauerkraut.

When the steaming plate was served, the portion was noticeably larger than usual. Aletta paused for a moment, glancing at the smiling, plump woman and then at Roland.

Roland said, "After we've eaten, we'll go to the hotel and then continue our journey."

Aletta was silent for a few seconds, then lowered her head and took a bite of the grilled sausage.

It tastes the same as before: caramelized, salty, and with a hint of smokiness.

But as she chewed, she suddenly said, "The taste is different now."

The plump woman looked somewhat taken aback, and Aletta added, "It has a more reassuring feel to it."

Both of them laughed, and Roland watched quietly, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Finally, the two finished all the food and left the store.

Before leaving, Roland paid double the price and left a note underneath, informing the shopkeeper that Broken Rock Town was about to be abolished.

Walking on the street, the night enveloped everything.

Only in the heavens above, where stars are arrayed and the bright moon shines.

Just like when he first embarked on his journey to find the story.

The difference is that back then he only had a heart, an iron sword, and a sense of bewilderment about the unknown.

Now, he has a lot, and he knows how to walk the road ahead.

Roland withdrew his gaze and continued walking.

Behind me, the familiar scenes of Duanyan Town gradually blurred, like a painting that was slowly fading.

He didn't turn around, but a sentence silently flashed through his mind.

"Tomorrow, a new story begins."