It was just a small town, though some might call it "Greystone City." In reality, it was merely a somewhat larger settlement, and its official name was indeed Greystone Town. Only those unseasoned villagers from the remote mountain valleys nearby would incessantly call it "Greystone City." This was a frequent, silent complaint of Old Tom, who had been a town gate guard for over a dozen years.
Greystone Town was indeed not large. Its main thoroughfare was a single east-west street called "Oak Street." The town also had only one inn, named "The Old Oak Inn." This inn was situated at the western end of the long, narrow town, so passing merchant caravans and travelers, unwilling to camp in the wild, had no choice but to stay there.
At this moment, a carriage that looked like it had been on the road for many days entered Greystone Town from the west. It sped past the entrance of The Old Oak Inn without the slightest hesitation, continuing its brisk pace to the other end of town before slowly coming to a halt in front of "The Singing Barrel Tavern."
The Singing Barrel Tavern wasn't large, and was even a bit worn, but it exuded a unique, comfortable, and rustic charm. As it was currently lunchtime, the tavern was quite full of diners, almost to the point of having no empty seats.
A portly man with a round face and a small mustache, along with a girl of about ten with slightly sun-darkened skin, alighted from the carriage. The man led the girl straight into the tavern, appearing quite familiar with the place. Some of the tavern's regulars recognized the portly man, knowing him as the tavern's steward, whom people called "Fat Boss Hobbes," but no one recognized the little girl accompanying him.
"Hey, Hobbes," one of the patrons, his cheeks flushed from drink, suddenly called out in a jesting tone, "this little dark-haired lass bears a striking resemblance to you! Could she be a past indiscretion of yours, now come to find you?"
The remark immediately elicited a roar of laughter from the surrounding patrons.
"Pah!" Hobbes, far from being angry, actually puffed out his round belly with a touch of pride. "What nonsense are you spouting! This is my niece, sent by relatives from my old home. She shares our family blood, so naturally, she resembles me somewhat!"
These two were none other than Elara Stonefield and her third maternal uncle—known to others as "Fat Boss Hobbes"—who had just arrived in Greystone Town after a continuous three-day journey.
Hobbes casually greeted a few familiar patrons and then led Elara through the tavern to a secluded small courtyard at the back.
"Elara," Hobbes said kindly, pointing to a side room in the courtyard, "rest well in this room first and regain your strength. As soon as the steward from the Outpost responsible for receiving new recruits arrives, I'll come and call you immediately. I need to go out and attend to a few regular customers first."
With that, he turned and hurried away.
As he reached the doorway, he seemed a little uneasy and turned back to add another instruction: "Don't wander off, mind you. The town is crowded and full of prying eyes; be careful not to get lost. It's best to stay in this courtyard and not go anywhere."
"Mm!" Elara replied softly.
Seeing Elara nod obediently, he finally set his mind at ease and walked out quickly.
Once Uncle Hobbes had left the room, Elara, exhausted from the days of travel, collapsed onto the simple bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep. For someone arriving in a completely unfamiliar place, she showed none of the timidity and unease common in children.
In the evening, a young attendant brought her dinner. Though it wasn't a feast of delicacies, it was clean and palatable. After she finished eating, the attendant returned to clear away the dishes. Only then did her uncle, Hobbes, leisurely walk in.
"Well, Elara," he asked with a smile, "did the food suit your taste? Are you feeling a bit homesick?"
"Mm, it was fine. I am a little homesick," Elara replied, appearing very well-behaved.
Hobbes seemed quite pleased with Elara's answer. He then chatted with her about some trivial matters from home and boasted about various interesting anecdotes from his youth. Gradually, Elara lost her initial reserve and began to talk and laugh with him.
And so, two peaceful days passed.
On the third day, after Elara had finished her dinner and was waiting for her uncle to tell her some news from town as usual, another carriage pulled up in front of the tavern.
This carriage was painted a glossy, jet-black, and was drawn by two magnificent black horses, a rare sight. Most striking was a small, triangular black flag embroidered with an ancient "Fist and Lightning" emblem, attached to the frame of the carriage. The flag's edges were meticulously outlined with silver thread, and in the twilight, it exuded an indescribable aura of majesty and mystery.
Upon seeing this small flag, anyone with some experience traveling and trading within a few hundred miles knew that an important figure from the "Stonefist Outpost," one of the two dominant powers in this region, had undoubtedly arrived.
The "Stonefist Outpost" was said to have been founded nearly a century ago by a retired legendary veteran—"One-Eye" Grom. This Grom, with his formidable martial prowess and incredibly harsh training methods, had once led his followers to great renown in several nearby counties, even gaining some fame in the border regions of the entire kingdom. But since Grom's death in old age, the Stonefist Outpost's power had waned considerably, pushed out and suppressed by a coalition of newly emerging forces, ultimately forcing them to retreat to this relatively remote hilly area—the edge of the Sunset Peaks. There, they had put down roots and become a small power with regional influence.
However, as the old proverb goes, "A fallen lion is still a lion." The Stonefist Outpost, after all, had once been glorious and prosperous, and its underlying strength and unique inherited training methods were not to be underestimated. After arriving in the Sunset Peaks area, they quickly established effective control over a dozen small towns and villages, including "Greystone Town," boasting nearly a thousand registered official members, making them one of the two veritable dominant powers in this land.
In this region, the only other formidable power capable of contending with the "Stonefist Outpost" was the "Shadow Wolves."
The "Shadow Wolves" were formerly a notorious band of brigands in the border regions. After several encirclement campaigns by the kingdom's regular army, some members were eliminated or accepted amnesty, while the most ferocious and stubborn remnants fled to the mountains and forests, gradually forming the "Shadow Wolves" of today. They fully inherited the savage, bloodthirsty, and fearless ways of those brigands. Consequently, the "Stonefist Outpost" sometimes suffered minor setbacks in its numerous clashes with the "Shadow Wolves."
Although the villages and territories controlled by the "Shadow Wolves" were also quite extensive, they were mostly scattered and more remote. More importantly, they had no idea how to manage and administer their domains, so in terms of prosperity, they lagged far behind the areas under the "Stonefist Outpost." The "Shadow Wolves" had long coveted the several more affluent trading posts controlled by the "Stonefist Outpost" and had recently been frequently instigating friction and small-scale conflicts between the two. This was a major headache for the current commanders of the "Stonefist Outpost" and also the primary reason why the Outpost had been forced to repeatedly expand its recruitment of new blood in recent years.
A man of about forty, lean but with exceptionally sharp eyes, leaped from the carriage. His movements were as swift as the wind, clearly indicating a formidable expert. He also seemed quite familiar with the place, striding directly towards the small courtyard where Elara was staying.
As soon as Third Uncle Hobbes saw this man, his face immediately wreathed in smiles, and he bowed respectfully, "Ah, Captain Marcus! What wind brings you here, leading the escort yourself?"
"Hmph!" Captain Marcus snorted, a barely perceptible arrogance in his expression. "The roads have been unsafe lately, requiring heightened vigilance. His Excellency the Commander has specifically ordered me to personally escort the new recruits. Enough pleasantries, is this little girl the one you're recommending this time?" His sharp gaze swept over Elara, who was standing to the side.
"Yes, yes! This is my distant niece. I hope Captain Marcus will look after her on the journey." Seeing Captain Marcus's apparent impatience, Hobbes quickly took out an inconspicuous small pouch of coins from his tunic and discreetly pressed it into his hand.
Captain Marcus subtly weighed the small pouch in his hand, and the lines on his face seemed to soften somewhat. "Hobbes, you certainly know how to conduct yourself. As for your niece, I'll naturally look after her on the way. It's getting late; we should get going."