A Girl in Red Clothes Who Loves to Sing?

"So, young man... you're actually not a refugee, are you?"

Arkhan raised an eyebrow at the smiling village chief. 

Although with his temperament, he wasn't likely to panic just because his identity was revealed, it couldn't be denied that at this moment, he felt a bit curious and surprised.

There was no trace of magical energy on the old man's body. His frail figure seemed like it would collapse with a gust of wind, exuding an impression of surpassing age. Undoubtedly, he was just an ordinary human.

How did this old man see through his disguise then?

As if understanding his expression, the village chief chuckled and spoke up.

"I suppose you haven't truly experienced the life of a refugee, have you? People like us, who wander around with no certainty, struggling day in and day out, can't afford to show sympathy to strangers like you do... Just to survive alone, we have to give it our all."

Arkhan fell silent for a moment before apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to deceive you intentionally. I just didn't want to cause any unnecessary trouble..."

After a pause, he continued.

"If you mind, I can leave immediately. But before I go, please allow me to ask a few questions. Rest assured, I'll compensate you accordingly."

The village chief pondered for a moment, then shook his head slowly, causing Arkhan's mood to sink slightly.

"Guests are welcome here, no matter your identity. Since Mari brought you, it means you're not a bad one." The village chief said with a smile. "If you don't mind, you can rest here for a while. But, as you know, our village's conditions are quite poor at the moment, so we may not be able to offer much hospitality."

Upon hearing that, Arkhan breathed a sigh of relief and gave a smile.

"Thank you. I'm grateful you're letting me stay."

With the village chief's consent, Arkhan finally settled in the village.

There were no spare houses in the village at the moment, so he used his rune magecraft to build a small wooden house on the outskirts of the village, along with some simple furniture.

Although as a Servant, he didn't need to eat or sleep, who would want to rough it out if conditions allowed?

On the first day, guided by Mari, Arkhan began to familiarize himself with the village environment.

Just as Moran and the village chief had said, the situation in the village was grim at the moment. Since everyone had fled, they didn't bring much with them, so various living resources were scarce.

Every person here, whether old or young, had many things to do every day just to survive.

As a result, Arkhan also found himself a job as a healer.

Firstly, the village lacked medical resources at the moment, with only a twelve-year-old Mari as the sole healer, who was clearly overwhelmed. Secondly, being a healer could quickly help him integrate into the village.

With Abyss Flower's power, the injuries and illnesses of these ordinary people were nothing but child's play to him. As long as they weren't dying on the spot, even if they were at death's door, he could save them.

After treating several patients, the villagers no longer doubted his medical skills. Their previous rejection and suspicion turned into warmth and trust. Moran even sent him a whole leg of pork that evening, but he politely declined.

With the identity of a healer, he quickly integrated into the village within a few days and gained the respect of the villagers.

"Grandpa Rasyid, have you ever heard of a group called the mountain people?" 

Under the eaves, Arkhan and an elderly man with a grizzled beard were eating and chatting.

According to the village chief, Rasyid was the oldest and most knowledgeable person in the entire village. If there were any questions, one could consult him.

Taking a bite of the coarse black bread in his hand, Rasyid chewed slowly with the few teeth left in his mouth, a thoughtful look appearing in his cloudy eyes.

"The mountain people... it's quite a weird group name, but I don't recall hearing about this group..." Rasyid replied after a moment of contemplation.

Hearing that, Arkhan furrowed his brows slightly and continued to search for answers.

"What about the Sun King and his kingdom?"

Rasyid pondered for a moment before shaking his head.

"Never heard of them."

Arkhan stumped for a moment before continuing.

"Have you ever seen any strange people, like those with long arms, dark skin, wearing skull masks, or perhaps creatures with wings, lion-like bodies, and human-like faces?"

Upon hearing that question, Rasyid glanced at him in puzzlement, chuckling.

"Young folks sure have vivid imaginations these days. I don't know where you've heard of such bizarre things, but personally, I haven't seen or heard of anything like those."

Arkhan's frown deepened.

"Have you encountered anything unusual then?"

"I have." Rasyid nodded firmly.

"What is it?" Arkhan's eyes lit up.

"..."

"Those knights who come from the city..."

Rasyid answered after a moment of silence, sighed, and then began to explain.

"I've never seen anyone as powerful as them... They're extremely strong, their armor is impenetrable, and when it comes to killing, they never hesitate. They're like a group of cold, ruthless steel."

"And last but not least, above those knights are the so-called Knights of the Round Table, said to be hundreds of times stronger than ordinary knights. To be honest, I can't even imagine how humans could be that terrifying..."

'Because they weren't human to begin with...' Arkhan retorted inwardly, shaking his head.

He then started stroking his chin, a thoughtful look appearing in his eyes.

If it weren't for the lack of information, it was highly likely that this location was still far from the activity zones of Hassan-i-Sabbah and Ozymandias.

"But..." Rasyid continued with a hesitant tone. "Although those knights are tough, I've heard there's another equally powerful force fighting them."

"You mean this other force is opposing them?" Arkhan raised an eyebrow.

Besides Hassan-i-Sabbah and Ozymandias, who else could stand against Camelot?

"Yeah, and I've heard that this force was built by someone as powerful as the Knights of the Round Table..." Rasyid recalled, furrowing his brow. "It's said that the founder was a girl wearing red clothes who loved to sing, but..."

Upon hearing that, Arkhan coughed lightly, his expression slightly peculiar.

"According to rumor, her singing was quite bad..." Rasyid added.

'A girl in red clothes who loves to sing...' Arkhan's mouth twitched slightly as he seemed to remember someone with that characteristic. 'Could it be...?'

"I remember the name of that force was... It should be the Holy Roman Empire?" Rasyid continued.

"HELP! HELP!"

Suddenly, a frantic shout broke the peace of the village, and everyone immediately stopped what they were doing, turning to see a young man rushing toward the village with a bloody man on his back.