To be honest, the center of the **Rogue Encampment**, the **Adventurer's Paradise**, was essentially no different from the **West District**. It was nothing more than buying, selling, and entertainment consumption. The only difference was that this area was much cleaner and more aesthetically pleasing, unlike the **West District** where tents were pitched haphazardly everywhere.
Walking on the wide street paved with large bluestones, I gazed at the wooden houses on both sides, unable to take it all in. Most of the things sold here were related to **Class Holders**, such as sturdy tents, and food specifically provided for journeys that could be preserved for a long time, like the pickled fish hanging outside the shops, and the kind of **Dried Meat** that **Doug** ate. All of these were available for sale.
The most numerous establishments were **Inn**s. Generally speaking, unmarried male **Class Holders**, especially **Barbarian**s, tended to be quite slovenly. I had a deep appreciation for this point. During the half-month journey, if we occasionally found a water source, **Lars** and I would run to wash ourselves, but the two **Barbarian** brothers never touched water. At most, under **Lars**'s glare, they would reluctantly wipe themselves down a couple of times. I thought that if their muscles weren't so solid and hard to bite into, their bodies would have been crawling with fleas by now.
Therefore, although they had tents, these **Class Holders** who weren't short on money were willing to choose a cleaner **Inn** to stay in. Perhaps, I should also look for a cheaper **Inn** later.
However, the legendary **Magic Item Shop** that I had always wanted to see, I couldn't find it.
"Young man, could you come over here for a moment?"
Just as I was walking along, looking bewildered and without purpose, an old and gentle female voice sounded not far from me. Although the words were very general, and for the owner of this old voice, probably half the people walking on the street could be called "young man," I felt that she was calling me. It was a very strange feeling, one I didn't know how to describe. In any case, I stopped and looked towards the source of the voice.
It was a very ordinary old woman, wearing a Nun's Habit that many Commoner women liked to wear. There were several deep wrinkles on her forehead and at the corners of her eyes. She looked about 50 or 60 years old. From the outline of her face, one could vaguely tell that she must have been an extraordinary beauty in her youth.
She didn't look as old as her voice sounded. I estimated that it might be a relatively low and hoarse tone formed over time from being in a high position for a long period, making her voice sound particularly weathered and aged.
And the most striking thing about her was her pair of faded eyes.
Combined with her attire and the respectful gazes of the arrogant **Class Holders** on the roadside when they saw her, I dared to guarantee with a **Druid**'s honor that this was the person known as the "Instructor" in **Diablo**, the actual manager of the entire **Rogue Encampment**, none other than **Akara**.
"Hehe... young man, could you come over and chat with this poor old woman for a few words?"
**Akara** was hunched over, and with her other hand, which wasn't holding a cane, she beckoned to me. The smile on her face reminded me of my long-deceased grandmother, who had doted on me the most.
"Okay, okay..." I walked towards **Akara** involuntarily. **Akara** slowly turned around and walked into a small alley.
Following behind **Akara**, I twisted and turned through several bends, walking for about ten minutes, finally arriving at a small open space.
To say it was a small open space wasn't quite right, because there was a small grey tent pitched in the open space. It was just that the small tent was really too small, and compared to this not-so-large open space, it was easily overlooked.
"Young man, if you don't mind this old woman's humble home being too shabby, come in and sit."
**Akara** turned her head, nodded at me, and ducked into the tent. I naturally followed her in.
Once inside, I was surprised to find that the space inside the tent wasn't as cramped as it looked from the outside. No, it was even dozens of times larger. I had been worried if there would even be a place for me to sit inside.
"Young man, come, sit down." I didn't know when, but **Akara** had already brought over a cup from the side, motioned for me to sit on the wooden chair next to her, then handed me the cup, and slowly walked to the chair opposite and sat down herself.
I curiously examined the cup **Akara** handed me. It contained a pale green liquid, steaming hot.
This couldn't be tea, I thought, and eagerly took a sip.
The water was a bit hot, almost scalding my tongue when it first entered my mouth, but it instantly transformed into a cool sensation that slid down my throat, then spread into my limbs and brain. This strange feeling lasted for a long time before slowly dissipating, leaving me feeling completely refreshed.
This wasn't tea, but it tasted better than the finest tea.
"Hehe~~ Young man, how does it taste? This is the Spirit Cleansing Water I made myself," **Akara** said with a smile from the side.
"Mm, it's the best thing I've ever drunk," Spirit Cleansing Water? The name was a bit plain, but it was truly appropriate, I nodded sincerely. Looking at **Akara**, I was still full of questions about why she had called me over so inexplicably. But it was also good timing, as I had many questions to ask her, such as the issue of **Andariel**'s Resurrection that I had discussed with **Lars** earlier.
Seeing me staring at her without a word, **Akara** seemed to suddenly remember something.
"Look at me, this old woman, getting old and forgetting everything. I haven't even introduced myself yet, how rude."
"Not at all," I quickly replied.
"My name is **Akara**. I sell a few small things here in the **Rogue Encampment**. I'm just an insignificant old woman. Perhaps you've heard my name from others before."
**Akara** said with a chuckle. Her ordinary appearance and kind expression made her look truly no different from a typical old woman.
If I could be fooled by this ordinary appearance, then I wouldn't be called **Wu Fan**. How frustrating! It seems like you're the only one selling **Magic Item Shop**s in the entire **Rogue Encampment**. If you're just selling "small things," then I wouldn't even be able to afford underwear.
You manage tens of thousands of Archers in the **Rogue Encampment**, and can even mobilize thousands of **Class Holders** at any time. If you're still "insignificant," then I'm just a slave who has to sell sweet potatoes for the Commoners.
"Uh... uh? I... my name is **Wu Fan**, a newly advanced **Druid**. You... you are **Akara** Lord. Your great name, this junior... this junior has long heard of it like thunder," I said, pretending to be flustered and standing up, half-truthfully and solemnly. To be honest, I was quite impressed by this old nun. Just thinking about how she managed the entire **Rogue Encampment** so orderly was already very impressive. And look at her tent, and the simple furniture inside. You could tell at a glance that she still maintained a simple and plain life. Let alone Guards, at her age, she didn't even have a single attendant. Isn't this the **Diablo** version of Kong Fansen?
"Hehe~~ I'm just an ordinary old woman who has received everyone's kindness, nothing worth mentioning."
**Akara** smiled and shook her head, her expression completely genuine, making people feel good about her, unlike some leaders who say one thing and do another.
Taking advantage of this moment, I carefully examined this "small" shop. I had to say it was truly very simple inside. Besides a few tables and chairs for guests, there was another door, probably leading to a bedroom or something similar. The remaining space was completely filled with several huge shelves and cabinets. The shelves and cabinets were filled with bottles and jars, looking exactly like a Wizard's hut. However...
"**Akara** Lord, why is the tent so big inside, but looks so small from the outside?" This was a question I had been thinking about since entering the tent.
**Akara** seemed to have already seen through my thoughts and sighed.
"It's all thanks to those boring old men from the **Mage Guild**. They said they wanted to re-excavate the Spatial Magic invented by the greatest **Wizard** over 1000 years ago—**Tal Rasha** Lord, so they snatched my old woman's tent and messed around with it."
"Re-excavate?"
"Yes," **Akara**'s voice carried a hint of sadness. "A thousand years ago, during the **Sin War**, **Tal Rasha** Lord accepted the instructions of the gods and sealed **Baal**, one of the **Three Prime Evils**, within himself using a damaged Soulstone as the core and his own life as the vessel. Because of this, we suffered a frenzied retaliation from the opposing forces, and the gods..."
A layer of unmelting sorrow appeared on **Akara**'s face. When she spoke of the gods, her tone seemed to carry a very strong emotion. I didn't know how to describe this emotion, but I was sure it was definitely not respect or worship.
"As the leader of the **Mage Guild**, **Tal Rasha** Lord meant that the entire **Mage Guild** was the target of the most severe retaliation. In the end, the entire guild was almost wiped out, and a large amount of information was lost with that retaliation. From then on, the level of magic on the **Dark Continent** almost dropped to a primitive state, and everything had to be re-explored."
Her voice was weathered and aged. This matter, which was almost an open secret, felt even more shocking when spoken by **Akara**.
"..."
I inwardly cursed myself for bringing up such a topic. Seeing **Akara**'s sad look, I didn't know what to say. At this moment, any words of comfort felt so pale and powerless.
"Oh dear, why did I suddenly start talking about these things? Look at me, this old woman, getting old and just liking to talk about boring past events when there's nothing else to do," **Akara**'s expression changed as if by magic, returning to her smiling self.
"Those old guys from the **Mage Guild** took my tent to experiment with, and when they returned it, it became like this. A bunch of old men whose skills aren't up to par, they said they succeeded halfway, making the space inside my tent bigger, but they couldn't find the method to restore it. It can only stay like this," **Akara** complained.
"Isn't this quite good? A big tent is comfortable to live in," I was puzzled. In this era, I had never heard of anyone complaining that their house was too big.
"Why would an old woman like me need such a big tent?"
**Akara** smiled and shook her head. "Don't look at how full this place is with things and think I need so much space to put things. Actually, the old small tent was just right. Now that it's made so big, I have to buy some empty bottles and jars to put up to fill the space, lest guests say it feels empty and there's nothing good to buy."
I looked closely at the cabinets around me and found that there were indeed many empty bottles. As for the jars, they were made of clay, and you couldn't tell what was inside from the outside.
If it was really as **Akara** said, then those old men really had good intentions but messed things up. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed. I estimated that those magic fanatics probably did it on purpose. After all, **Akara** was the leader of the **Rogue Encampment**. If her house was too shabby, even if she didn't care, others might have opinions. I remembered **Lars** saying that they were research fanatics, old eccentrics, cared about face, and loved to argue. This pretty much summarized the behavior of those old guys from the **Mage Guild**.
I suddenly remembered the luxurious but not aesthetically pleasing **West Gate**, which looked particularly awkward. I estimated that it was also the masterpiece of these old guys. Really, couldn't they put their energy into something more useful?
(end of chapter)