Odyssey Of Survival-Chapter 122 Choosing A Weapon

Tiaa walked through the dimly lit hallway with a purpose, her footsteps light but steady, while Nate followed closely behind, his eyes carefully taking in every detail of their surroundings. The muffled sounds of moaning and laughter from the other rooms were fading the further they went, but the heavy, musky scent of the place still lingered in the air, making Nate's nose twitch slightly beneath the fabric she had given him.

Finally, they stopped in front of a wooden door, its surface worn and slightly cracked, evidence of years of careless use. Without hesitation, Tiaa reached out and pushed it open.

The room inside was a mess.

The first thing that hit Nate was the strong, pungent smell of alcohol. It clung to the air, mixed with the unmistakable stench of sweat and unwashed bodies, making his stomach churn slightly.

His gaze swept over the floor where four men lay sprawled out, their thick beards tangled, their bodies heavy with exhaustion. Some of them were snoring loudly, their arms and legs thrown carelessly over one another, while others lay completely still, their chests rising and falling in slow, deep breaths.

A few empty clay mugs were scattered around, remnants of whatever strong liquor they had been drinking the night before.

Some of them had probably been too drunk to move.

Others were simply tired from hours of indulging themselves with the women outside.

Nate stood at the doorway, arms crossed, expression blank, before finally shaking his head and letting out a quiet sigh.

"Is this what they do every time?" Your journey continues on novelbuddy

His voice was calm, but there was an underlying hint of amusement in his tone, as if he wasn't entirely surprised by what he was seeing.

Tiaa, standing beside him, let out a tired sigh of her own before nodding helplessly.

"Every single time," she muttered.

She hated it.

Every time she needed them for a hunt, she had to come here, wade through the filth of this place, deal with the stench, and wake them up from their drunken, pleasure-induced stupor.

Before she could say anything else, a low, grumbling sound came from inside the room.

One of the men stirred.

A heavy groan escaped him as he slowly blinked his bleary eyes open, his face scrunching up in confusion at the unfamiliar voice.

With a grunt, he pushed himself up, his movements sluggish and unsteady, and turned his head towards the doorway, where Nate and Tiaa stood.

His brows furrowed.

His gaze landed on Nate, and for a moment, he simply stared, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Then, rubbing his face, he stumbled forward, nearly falling before catching himself by gripping the wall for support.

His voice, rough and hoarse, finally broke the silence.

"Who in the gods name is this?"

His words were loud enough to wake the others.

One by one, the rest of the men grunted and groaned, their bodies shifting as they slowly dragged themselves into consciousness.

A chorus of irritated murmurs filled the room as they sat up, rubbing their eyes, stretching their stiff muscles, and glaring at the intrusion.

Tiaa crossed her arms and spoke firmly.

"Meet the new member."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, one of the men let out a low, irritated grumble, his expression twisting into an unimpressed scowl.

"What is this, Tiaa?" His voice was thick with grogginess, but the irritation was clear. "We sent you to find someone capable, not to bring back a pretty sexboy."

Nate's eyebrow twitched.

He turned his head slightly, casting a side glance at the man, but his expression remained carefree, completely unfazed.

Tiaa, on the other hand, felt her anger flare immediately.

"Watch your mouth," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "I found someone capable, and that's exactly who I brought back."

Her words were sharp, but the man simply scoffed, shaking his head as if he didn't believe her.

Nate, meanwhile, stood silently, still wearing that same carefree expression.

He wasn't insulted. If anything, he found it mildly amusing.

Another one of the men—taller than the rest, with broad shoulders and a scruffy beard— suddenly started walking toward him.

His movements were unsteady, his balance still thrown off by last night's drinking, but his expression was clear.

He wanted to test him.

When he finally got close enough, he stopped in front of Nate, towering over him slightly before locking eyes with him.

His stare was challenging.

Nate simply tilted his head.

The man let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly before muttering—

"Capable, huh?"

Then, without warning, he shoved Nate.

His hands pressed against Nate's chest, forcing him a step back.

Nate didn't react.

He didn't even look surprised.

Instead, his lips twitched, and he simply adjusted his stance, still wearing that same easygoing expression.

The man frowned.

Annoyed by Nate's lack of reaction, he shoved him again— harder this time.

Once more, Nate moved back but showed no change in expression.

Not a single flicker of irritation.

Instead, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, as if contemplating something, before—

A small smile broke across his face.

Tiaa, standing off to the side, narrowed her eyes slightly.

She didn't know why he was smiling.

But she knew one thing—

He was dangerous.

She had seen what he did to the big man before.

And if these fools kept pushing him—

Before she could say anything, her gaze snapped toward the man who had been shoving Nate—Meni.

Her voice was firm, laced with warning.

"Meni, if you want to keep your hands, take them off him."

Meni turned his head toward her, his lips curling into a smug smirk.

"What?" His tone was teasing, mocking. "You mad that I'm touching your pretty little boy?"

Tiaa didn't respond immediately.

Instead, she simply exhaled through her nose, shaking her head slightly before glancing at Nate once more.

And to her surprise—

He was still calm.

Still wearing that same carefree expression.

But in that moment, she realized something.

That smile on his face wasn't amusement.

It was something else entirely.

And if Meni wasn't careful—

That smile might just be the last thing he ever saw.

Tiaa's gaze lingered on Meni for a moment longer, her lips pressing into a thin line as she silently dared him to test his luck again. When the bearded man only chuckled, clearly entertained by his own words, she exhaled sharply through her nose before turning her attention back to Nate.

"Come on," she said, her tone carrying the weight of irritation, though not directed at him. "Let's get out of here."

She turned back to the group of men, her eyes narrowing slightly as she addressed them.

"You four better be ready when we come back."

Her voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument, but the men only grumbled in response, stretching their stiff limbs and rubbing their faces as they fought off the lingering grogginess of their indulgences. They were slow, sluggish, and completely unbothered, acting as if they had all the time in the world.

Tiaa let out a quiet sigh, clearly annoyed but also unsurprised by their behavior.

She didn't wait for a reply.

Instead, she turned on her heel and stepped back into the hallway, the dim light casting long shadows across her figure.

Nate followed, stepping past the half-conscious men without another glance.

Once outside, the thick, musky air of the brothel was replaced by the fresher, open breeze of the town, though the scent still clung stubbornly to his senses. He inhaled deeply, letting the coolness settle in his lungs, while beside him, Tiaa was already moving, her expression calmer now that they had left that chaotic mess behind.

"Before we go hunting," she started, glancing at him, "I'll take you to get a weapon. You'll need something decent."

Nate gave a small nod, though his hand rose to the back of his head, fingers brushing through his hair in thought.

"There's just one problem," he admitted after a moment, his lips curling into a small, dry smile.

Tiaa raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Nate's eyes drifted toward the various merchants and traders lined up along the streets, exchanging goods with customers through bartering. He had noticed it the moment he arrived—there was no actual money here, only trades, exchanges, and deals made on the basis of necessity and value.

He exhaled before speaking.

"I don't have anything to exchange."

Tiaa blinked at him, her expression momentarily blank, before a small, unexpected laugh escaped her lips.

The irritation that had been sitting heavily on her features just moments ago melted away, replaced by something lighter, something amused.

"So that's why you're joining the hunt?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "You need the gains."

Her voice carried a teasing edge, though it wasn't cruel—more like she had just solved a small puzzle.

Nate smirked, shrugging a shoulder.

"You could put it that way."

Tiaa hummed in response, crossing her arms as she studied him for a moment before speaking again.

"I'll help you get one."

Nate's eyebrows lifted slightly in mild surprise, but before he could say anything, she added—

"You can pay me back later."

There was no hesitation in her tone, no doubt, just a simple statement, as if she had already made up her mind.

Nate considered it for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

With that, she led him through the bustling streets, weaving through the crowd as merchants called out their wares, eager to strike deals. The town was alive with movement, filled with people carrying baskets of goods, traders arguing over fair exchanges, and hunters negotiating prices for weapons and tools. It was a strange yet structured chaos, one that functioned despite its lack of traditional currency.

After several minutes of walking, Tiaa finally stopped in front of a small but well-stocked weapon shop.

The entrance was simple, marked only by a wooden frame and a few weapons displayed outside—a couple of rusted swords, old spears, and daggers that had clearly seen better days. But as they stepped inside, the true collection revealed itself.

Inside, the shop was packed with **rows of weapons—**some new, some old, some covered in intricate carvings, others plain but sturdy. Swords, spears, axes, bows, and even blunt weapons lined the walls and tables. The air was thick with the scent of metal and oil, the unmistakable aroma of a blacksmith's craft.

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Nate's eyes scanned the collection, his fingers brushing against the hilts of a few swords as he walked past them. He wasn't in a hurry—he wanted to find something that felt right.

Eventually, his gaze landed on a sword tucked among the others, and he reached out, about to pick it up—

But then—

Something else caught his eye.

Off to the side, leaning against one of the shelves, was a thick iron rod, its surface covered in faint, unfamiliar carvings.

Nate turned toward it, letting go of the sword, and instead wrapped his fingers around the iron rod.

The weight was **solid, heavy—**but to him, it wasn't an issue.

He lifted it easily, giving it a few experimental swings. The air whistled faintly as the metal cut through it, and after a few moments, he nodded slightly to himself.

This felt right.

"I'll take this one."

Tiaa, who had been watching silently, raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

Nate nodded, resting the rod across his shoulder. "Yeah."

She didn't question it further.

Instead, she reached down and pulled something from her waist—a small, wrapped pouch.

Without a word, she tossed it toward the shop owner.

The man caught it, opened it, and after a brief look at whatever was inside, grinned with satisfaction before nodding at them.

Nate glanced at Tiaa, mildly surprised but choosing not to comment.

He simply adjusted the rod, shifting it diagonally across his back, before following her back out into the streets.

****

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