Do ratmen dream of the sacred tree of spirits?

Chapter 110 Discovery

"Let's go take a look somewhere a little further away—"

Fafner thought to himself, now filled with hunger and exhaustion, that he should follow the stream. "Sigh—I must look around for any signs of human habitation."

As darkness fell, a chill and loneliness crept in, but the coat he was wearing was still warm enough. Fafnir thought of 7

To his surprise, he seemed to have some special ability; even as darkness fell, he could still see things in the dark.

As he walked, Fafnir's strength waned. "Cheer up," he silently encouraged himself.

Finally, before he ran out of energy, he saw houses in the night. The houses in the distance were mostly dark, with only a few lights on. At this point, Fafnir perked up, but then he started to worry again. What if he encountered bad people? His body was only about ten years old.

Fafnir thought for a moment. He first turned his robe inside out and put it on, which would cover the frightening bloodstains and avoid causing unnecessary misunderstandings. As for his sword, Fafnir believed that it had to be kept close to his body in case of an accident. He hung the sword on the side and back inside the robe and held it in his hand at all times, so that people coming from the front would not see it.

Let's go, let's go take a look.

As Fafner approached the small village, he grew increasingly nervous about the unfamiliar surroundings. It was close to the creek, with obvious, simple irrigation facilities, and no one on the smooth dirt road.

Not far away were rows of ridges, with some crops that looked like wheat on them. Some fields were not planted with any crops. Perhaps this was a common three-field system, or perhaps a four-field rotation system, Fafner thought. He knew very little about agriculture.

Hmm—those houses all look like mud-brick structures, not too bad, at least not in a very backward place. Not many people have their lights on at night, which is normal, Fafner thought. It's only recently gotten dark, and it's quite normal for rural areas to have little nightlife.

After taking a few deep breaths, Fafnir arrived at the door of the nearest house, which was emitting a faint light.

"Thump, thump"

"Who is it!" a wary female voice came from inside the house.

Oh my god, what should I do?

Fafnir suddenly realized that he could only barely understand the words "who is it," and that these words were different from the spoken language in his original body's language system.

The difference in pitch is quite significant.

After a few seconds of silence, Fafnir had no choice but to speak, trying his best to make his voice sound as strong as possible: "Hello, I'm sorry to bother you so late, I'm just passing by and I've gotten lost here. Could I ask if I could stay the night? I can pay."

The voices inside were silent for a moment, then the door was pulled open a crack, and a pair of eyes peered through the gap: "Ratman? Your accent—where are you from, Cellar City? You're so young, walking here alone so late at night?"

"Sorry—" Fafnir didn't know how to respond, but he noticed that the woman's tone was noticeably softer, and her accent had become somewhat similar to his own, making it easy for him to understand her.

"Korling, there's a child from the cellar city outside, also a ratman—" Fafnir heard the woman's voice soften as she discussed something with the person next to her, and he waited silently outside the door.

The door opened, and Fafnir saw two people who were about forty years old. The woman looked very much like him, with ears that were larger than normal, and grayish hair. The man did not have any special features.

"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you. Also, I'm carrying a sword," Fafnir explained proactively to avoid any problems later.

"What? A sword—" The woman was clearly surprised and looked at the man. "It's alright, Nina. The little guy doesn't seem like a bad person. His voice sounds like it hasn't changed yet. He's still young, and he's so honest."

"Well then, little one, come in," the woman said to Fafnir.

"Thank you." Fafnir bowed to them.

After being led into the house, Fafnir was seated on a stool in front of a table. He saw a half-burned candle in the center of the table, with sewing needles and thread next to it. They must have been mending clothes by candlelight, Fafnir thought.

Besides the table, there was only a bed. A little boy who looked only five or six years old sat beside the bed, looking at him curiously. Fafnir guessed that he must be the child of the two kind people. He could see the faces of the two kind people clearly. Their faces were rough and they looked tired.

"My name is Nina, little one. What's your name? Did you escape from the Cellar City? Why aren't your parents with you?"

The familiar accent came from Nina's mouth, and Fafnir suddenly remembered that this was the "Common Language of the Western Continent." However, he couldn't answer Nina's question. He had no idea why Nina had so many assumptions. "My name is Fafnir—I'm sorry, Nina, my parents are not with me for the time being. I have lost contact with them."

"Besides, I'll pay you. I'm really grateful that you let me stay for the night, otherwise I might have frozen to death outside." Fafnir replied, to be honest, he knew nothing about the original owner of this body and could only answer cautiously.

"Alas, I haven't been back to the Cellar City for many years," Ms. Nina seemed to think that Fafnir had tacitly agreed to the issue of fleeing. "Recently, many people like you have appeared in our village. We are all of the same kind, and I don't charge you. I should help you. It's alright. I have also received a lot of help from my people."

After a moment of silence, Keling came over and brought over a bowl of food. "I'm Keling, little guy. Eat up. It's some leftovers from dinner, still warm. You should have been hungry."

"This is my husband, and the woman in bed is our daughter, Misha," Nina said.

"Thank you so much, I will definitely pay, otherwise I will feel bad—" Fafnir looked at the bowl that Koling brought over, which contained a porridge made of a mixture of grains and tubers: "Thank you, I am indeed very hungry."

But Fafnir instinctively stopped eating, even though he was extremely hungry.

Koling looked at Fafnir, who hadn't eaten for a long time, and was initially puzzled. After a while, he couldn't help but smile, took a soup spoon, scooped a large spoonful into the bowl, and drank it down: "Haha, Nina, look at this little fellow of yours—"

Fafnir felt that he must look very embarrassed right now. Ah, I'm so sorry, I don't know why I was so wary. He was just subconsciously worried that these two kind people who were willing to take him in would put drugs in his food. He felt a little ashamed.

Fafnir swallowed hard, picked up the bowl, and began to enjoy his food. The warm food entered his stomach, and he felt a long-lost sense of comfort and pleasure.

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