I am the Enchantress!

Chapter 156 An Ominous Dream and a Restless Wanderer (4K)

Wilder went to the next room and took Bruce and his pack of dog food with him.

"Let's go! Otherwise we'll be called perverts."

Wilder paused, stunned, after he finished speaking.

I never imagined the term "pervert" originated from this—

Then we should definitely take it with us!

"Run! You stupid dog!"

Urged on by Wilder, Bruce pitifully carried his own rations and followed him into the next room.

This is Talia's room.

That being said, apart from the change of clothes on the wooden table, it was actually no different from an empty room that hadn't been rented out yet.

Bruce simply changed locations, like temporarily changing tables in a restaurant; the tasks remained the same.

They continued to enjoy their special food in silence.

Wilder sat on the only wooden bed in the room.

so tired.

First, he didn't sleep all night, then he went to the suburbs to learn magic, and finally he and Monk acted out a crazy scene at the potion shop.

He felt fine in the next room, but now that he's sat down to rest, his previously soaring adrenaline has started to drop, constantly draining his energy.

He felt utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally, and his eyes were starting to droop.

Bright sunlight streamed in through the window, falling directly on his back like a gentle caress from a young girl, swaying back and forth.

So comfortable.

"Thump—"

"6

He lay down directly on the wooden bed behind him and fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.

"Aww~"

Bruce looked up from his delicious meal and gazed at his human friend.

When it realized that he was just asleep because he was tired, it lowered its head and continued to eat its food.

The room was extremely quiet.

Apart from Bruce's deep gnawing sounds, the only other sound was the rising and falling chirping of cicadas outside the window.

For Wilder, who had been busy with work during this period, such an afternoon was all the more precious.

So when Maeve entered the room a quarter of an hour later and saw Wilder sleeping so soundly, she didn't choose to wake her, but instead closed the door and went back to the next room.

After Bruce had eaten his fill, he didn't ask Wilder to take him for a walk. Instead, he obediently stayed where he was and fell asleep.

After days of running around, a moment of peace has finally arrived.

just.

The scattered clouds in the sky outside the window were gradually driven into a ball by the wind, becoming dark and heavy, and eventually obscuring the warm sun.

It got dark.

A heavy rain is brewing.

Wilde was awakened by the sound of raindrops continuously dripping on the windowsill.

The single rooms at the Horse Colt Hotel are small and cramped, with a table placed in front of the entrance and the wooden bed placed next to the window.

-

The "pattering" sound kept flooding into Wilder's ears, eventually turning into a bizarre dream.

He dreamed that blood was dripping from his forehead, drop by drop, continuously hitting the ground.

"call!"

With a short, sharp breath, he finally woke up from his dream.

He sat up abruptly from the wooden bed, subconsciously touched his forehead, and then held his hand up to his eyes to examine it carefully.

It's wet.

It's still just sweat.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but the "pattering" sound in his ears still didn't stop.

Turning his head, Wilder realized that it was raining outside; the sound was just rain hitting the windowsill.

"Well----"

He gave a wry smile.

Since coming into this world, he has experienced too many bloody and inhumane scenes, but he has never had nightmares because of them.

This is the first time.

It's just a battle between an investigation team and a red dragon, surely that's not the case?

Is the pressure too much?

Wilder thought it best to have that, rather than the kind of dream that foretells the future like a wizard.

No matter which world he's in, he's never been bloodied or bruised.

Of course, except for the moment of time travel.

He got out of bed, stretched his shoulders a couple of times, and strolled to the windowsill.

Bruce, awakened from his drooling dream by the sound, followed Wilder over.

Rain was falling outside the window, and continuous dark clouds obscured the sun, making the whole sky gray and desolate, and it was impossible to tell what time it was.

"How long did I actually sleep?"

He stretched and rubbed his empty stomach, feeling a strong hunger, which told him that it was past evening.

"Meve and Talia didn't wake me up."

As he spoke, he walked out of the room, went to the door of the next room, and knocked.

"Knock knock knock".

Surprisingly, there was no response.

Ok?

Wilder increased the pressure on his hands.

"Knock knock knock!"

There was still no response.

Wilder frowned and gently pushed the door, only to find it unlocked and easily pushed open.

"Meve? Talia?"

He called out from inside.

The only response he received was silence and the dim shadows inside the room.

Wilder's heart sank instantly, and he immediately pushed open the door and went inside.

The room was completely empty.

It was filled only with the distinctive smell of medicine for treating frostbite.

not good!

Wilder immediately left the room, ran towards the stairs to the second floor, and desperately rushed down to the first floor.

Images of Monk and the other members of the investigation team kept flashing through his mind.

Could it be that...?

What details did they discover that led them to the truth?

They've already found us?

Were Talia and Maeve taken away by them?

Countless unfavorable assumptions swirled in his mind, making his already groggy body stagger even more, almost sliding down the stairs to the first floor.

His guess was correct; it was evening, and the first floor of the Colt Tavern was already bustling with activity.

Nearly half of the twenty tables were already occupied, and the air was filled with the sounds of lively and enthusiastic conversation, along with the aroma of stew and beer.

Wilder felt increasingly empty inside.

But now is not the time to think about such things.

His gaze swept across the densely packed tables and chairs and the various adventurers, his expression tense as he searched for the figure he longed for.

I hope—

Before he could even voice his wish, it was easily granted.

He quickly spotted Maeve by the window, where she was stuffing a piece of beef into her round mouth with a fork.

Wilder shifted his gaze.

Talia sat to Maeve's left, with the lower wooden window frame on the other side of the hall.

Wilder breathed a sigh of relief.

So they went downstairs for dinner.

Then, he looked at several familiar figures at the table.

At the long table for six, sitting on Maeve's other side was a dashing red-haired girl named Martha.

Sitting opposite Martha was Cyrion, a mid-level warrior who always carried his large shield with him.

Sitting next to Cyrion was Gru, a dwarf whose chair required ten layers of cushions to reach the table.

Sitting to Gru's right was Lyle, who was squinting his narrow eyes as he looked toward Wilder.

He said something to the people at the table, and they all turned their heads in his direction.

"Wild! Over here!"

Maeve raised her arm in greeting, her mouth still chewing on beef, her voice muffled and somewhat comical.

Talia leaned halfway out from the back of her seat, blinking her crimson yet still clear eyes, looking intently at Wilder.

The others also called out his name.

Wilder smiled at them.

My heart, which was pounding wildly just a second ago, has now calmed down.

It seems that the dream I just had had no effect on language.

I think too much.

Everything is fine.

It was raining outside the tavern, but friends were gathered inside.

The table was laden with delicious dishes, and he was starving.

Everything is just right.

He waved and walked towards them.

Just then.

The door to the Colt Tavern was suddenly pushed open.

A strong wind from outside rushed in, carrying damp air and the sound of raindrops.

The rain was getting heavier.

"Bang!"

The door was closed.

Everything outside was kept out of the door, except for a tall, slender man clad in black leather armor.

He exuded an elegant yet chilling aura, like a gentleman from the dark world, as if he might deliver a fatal blow to someone with a smile at any moment.

Some of the adventurers in the tavern were already quite drunk, but they still dared not look him in the eye, for fear of provoking such a dangerous fellow.

This is the wanderer.

However, Wilder waved at him with great delight, shouting, "Joffrey! You're here too!"

Wilder hadn't spotted him at the six-person table earlier, and assumed he hadn't been able to find him at the party again.

After all, it's not a good thing for a wanderer to be easily found all the time.

Joffrey nodded at him.

He didn't use an umbrella, but wore a matching black hat to shield himself from the torrential rain.

The two were still some distance apart, and the rain dripping down the brim of Joffrey's hat further obscured his face.

Wilder couldn't see his expression.

Immediately afterwards, the two of them walked toward the six-person table by the window.

They were about the same distance apart and walked at almost the same speed, so they arrived at the table at roughly the same time.

"Shall we two sit on the side?"

Wilder said, "I asked Ella to bring over two more chairs."

Standing in front of the table, he took advantage of his height to be the first among the group to see Joffrey's expression clearly.

"Well----"

Wilder froze on the spot.

Joffrey's expression was off.

That face, which was slightly gloomy due to its profession yet maintained a gentlemanly elegance, now carried a hint of anxiety and unease.

Unlike other professions, the most important thing for nomads is not just skills, but also mindset.

Whether you're a thief or an assassin within this specific profession, you must always maintain a calm and composed mindset.

Theft, assassination, covert surveillance, obtaining classified information —

These tasks, unique to wanderers, all require a steady heartbeat, quiet steps, and hands that must not tremble.

The slightest oversight could expose their presence and lead to their death.

Therefore, wanderers almost always possess exceptional mental fortitude and a calm demeanor that can conceal their innermost thoughts at all times.

Although Joffrey did not show any obvious panic at this moment, his gloomy face, unlike his usual one, was anything but ordinary.

What can upset an intermediate-level wanderer?

What could it be?

Wilder didn't rush to ask, but just kept thinking to himself.

At this moment, the enthusiastic Ella had already carried over two wooden chairs and placed them gently in front of Wilder and Joffrey.

"Please take your seats on the narrow side of the table."

She stuck out her tongue apologetically, "I'll move you to that eight-person table over there as soon as it becomes available!"

"Thanks, could you get me another dry towel? My friend is soaked," Wilder said.

"No problem! Leave it to me!"

Ella smiled mischievously and immediately returned with a coarse linen towel.

Wilder smiled at her, then adjusted the two chairs and sat down on the side closest to Martha.

"Geoffrey, please have a seat."

He pointed to the spot next to him and handed him a towel, saying, "Wipe yourself off if you get wet in the rain."

"Oh, thank you."

Joffrey then sat down, took the towel, wiped his face haphazardly, and finished quickly.

The rain had already soaked through the brim of his hat, and water was dripping down, wetting his gloomy face again.

He wiped it again, still without taking off his hat.

The movements were like a machine, repeating themselves endlessly, as if his consciousness had been stripped away.

Wilder squinted and stared at him for a while, but found no fluctuations in magical power, which meant that he was not under the influence of a bewitching spell.

it's wired.

What's wrong with him?

At this moment, the other six people at the table also noticed Joffrey's unusual behavior.

For them, there were quite a few strange things that happened today.

Let's rewind to a few hours earlier.

It was Martha who suggested the gathering at the Colt Tavern.

Early in the morning, during the shift change between the association and Flora, the other party mentioned in casual conversation that Wilder had come to the counter alone after they left last night.

Under Martha's persistent questioning, Flora told her that Talia had registered for a bounty mission.

Martha immediately looked up the exact coordinates of the mission and found it was located deep in the border forest.

A strong premonition arose in her heart.

Did Wilder go deep into the forest to find Talia?

Too dangerous!

With this guess in mind, she immediately went to the Colt Hotel to verify it.

Before she even reached the top floor, she ran into Ella, who was cleaning. Ella told her that Wilde and Talia had returned early that morning.

Only then did Martha breathe a sigh of relief.

Considering they probably hadn't slept all night, she didn't go upstairs to disturb them, but instead returned directly to the association to continue her shift.

In the afternoon, Cyril came to the association to see Martha.

She then told him that Wilder had gone to the border forest to find Talia and had successfully brought her back.

The two chatted about the matter for a while and finally decided to meet at the Colt Tavern that evening to ask the two parties involved for all sorts of details.

Thus, this dinner party came about.

Cyrion notified several of his teammates.

Maeve wasn't home, and Geoffrey wasn't at the hotel; he had only left a verbal message.

In the evening, they met at the tavern as planned.

Martha and Cyrion went upstairs to find Wilder, only to find Talia and Maeve in his room.

Looking at Talia lying on the bed, they realized that she had been seriously injured in the forest.

"Talia, what happened to you?"

Martha asked with concern and heartache, "Were you attacked by a monster?"

"Um----"

She didn't answer, but blinked blankly at them.

It was only then that Cyrion and Martha noticed.

Talia's pupils had turned a dazzling crimson red at some point.