The residents of this small village warmly welcomed Lann and Bopai... at least on the surface it seemed warm.
Away from Lann's presence, people instinctively resisted contact with the Demon Hunter.
The village elder, a man named Mut, looked to be about forty or fifty years old, with a face marked by a long life of hardships.
The linen shirt on his body was frayed at the edges, and he wore a pair of boots so shiny from wear that they gleamed.
He invited Lann to stay at his home tonight.
"We truly appreciate you, Demon Hunter Master. Those glowing beasts outside have tormented our village for quite some time now. Every night, we honest villagers can only hide in our little nests, praying with buried heads, not even daring to glance outside."
At the dinner table, Lann leisurely ate the dinner provided by the village elder.
Nothing innovative about the thick mushroom soup and hard, dry bread... likely mixed with acorn flour.
