75: Chapter 53 Tim 75: Chapter 53 Tim Kalanfor.
A small town near River Valley Town.
No different from countless other obscure small human settlements within the Sevia Kingdom.
The river is short and shallow, far from meeting the conditions for navigation, only enough for the town’s women to wash clothes and dump dirty water.
It doesn’t produce any rare specialties, nor has any large mineral veins been found nearby to support the entire town’s economy.
Even due to its proximity to the Mist Forest, the wilderness near the town has a denser number of demons than other areas, making the passage of caravans particularly dangerous.
In a certain sense, if the area around River Valley Town didn’t have that perfect terrain surrounded by mountains on three sides, easy to defend and hard to attack, a bit further from the Mist Forest.
Kalanfor would be as it is now.
Fortunately, it is because of having a place like “River Valley Town” with an adventurer association that provides the royal provinces with a large amount of tax revenue every year as an “adventuring hub.”
Kalanfor, which surrounds it like a satellite city, can leech off it, bearing the suffix “town” instead of “village.”
Without completely falling into decline.
The round trip to River Valley Town is only four or five days, and the surrounding terrain is relatively flat, making it a temporary resting place for many adventurers and caravans.
Unashamedly, seventy percent of Kalanfor’s annual tax revenue comes from generous adventurers passing through the town.
But on the other hand, it’s like a delightful treat that invisibly affects one’s health.
Those walking on the edge of a knife, with considerable incomes accompanied by great risks, needing to release their inner pressures in various ways after each mission.
While offering a promising future to the town, it also breeds countless filths in the shadows.
The west side of Kalanfor, at the end of a slightly deserted street.
Is a small tavern named “Full Bag of Gold.”
A modest name with a sign featuring a bag full of Gold Coins.
While expressing the tavern owner’s good wishes, it also subtly reveals its secondary functions.
In the air filled with alcohol and hormones, was the crisp sound of the dice jar shaking.
The softly yellowish light, along with the warmth of the burning fireplace, makes one unconsciously sink into it, like a winter morning’s bed.
The tavern hall, which should be spacious and bright, becomes narrow and cramped due to the dense crowd before the gambling tables.
Yet it also makes it a place of fervor and excitement.
Unlike Neum, those big cities full of nobles and learned intellectuals.
Kalanfor doesn’t have expensive, large racetracks demanding massive investments for construction and maintenance; nor do many have the patience to indulge in a game of fanciful and complex dragon chess.
These low level adventurers only use the simplest, most direct means to vent their greed in endless stimulation and gambling.
Tim stared intently at the dice in front of him on the table, with a look of focus on his sweat-drenched face that he hadn’t shown even years ago facing that Gnoll hunter in the wilderness.
His cursing, full of dissatisfaction and with no intention of lowering the volume, dissolved like a drop in the ocean amid the surrounding noisy gamblers.
The Coins that were originally his were mercilessly taken away.
Tim touched his somewhat deflated wallet at his waist, with a hesitant look.
As a former adventurer, the high-risk, high-reward work allowed him to save a considerable sum in just over a decade.
Even without any income now, he could live a decent life in Kalanfor with this money, maybe even live out his old age peacefully.
However, the income far surpassing that of ordinary citizens from his adventuring days and the bad habits developed under high pressure had long accustomed him to extravagant spending, and living in a drunken stupor in taverns.
In just a few years’ time, the savings that could have provided a comfortable life for a whole family was squandered away.
Currently, he is no wealthier than an ordinary porter in the city.
Behind him, the gamblers eagerly waiting in line were impatiently urging.
Tim turned around abruptly, his reddened eyes displaying a fierce look only seen when fighting demons.
“What are you rushing for?!
The displeased commotion instantly vanished, replaced by the figure of someone shrinking their head and seeking another table, with the faint sound of grumbling complaints: