System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 26
They climbed down into the cellar and Letho set several torches alight, bathing the Dwarf in harsh, revealing light.
“Roy, stay here with Mr. Hogg. I’m going in to finish that thing,” Letho said, his gaze hard and steady on Severin.
“Keep quiet, and try not to be afraid,” he added. “If the Hym eats your fear, it grows stronger and makes my work harder.”
Severin froze like a pricked hedgehog, barely daring to breathe.
“Roy, talk to him, keep him steady,” Letho said, then vanished between rows of barrels, his broad back soon swallowed by shadow.
The two of them stared at one another in the sudden, awful silence.
“Mr. Hogg, let’s play a game,” Roy said, grinning with a wide, open smile that was all boyish earnestness. “Something wholesome to clear the mind, a proper Gwent match.”
Severin had money, but not much in the way of lightness. He set a finger against his mustachioed lips and glanced toward the barrels where Letho had disappeared, not particularly keen.
“The more anxious you are, the more likely the Hym will be drawn here. Can you propose anything better than Gwent to pass the time?” Roy added, prodding.
At the word “Hym” the Dwarf shrank back against the wall. Then his pupils tightened because the younger man opposite him now had, inexplicably, two full Skellige decks in his hands.
“Sorry, I do not play Gwent,” Severin said, politely refusing.
Roy did not give up. He smiled and kept persuading, “It’s easy to learn. I promise, you’ll find things better than wine to enjoy.”
Severin’s interest flickered; the Dwarf leaned forward. “You, a boy, you gamble? Speak plainly. Aside from ore, fine liquor is a Mahakam Dwarf’s true treasure. Gwent is only an occasional pastime.”
“Take my advice. Help Letho properly, stash some coin, set up a small trade, get married, raise a family, and stop thinking about cards. If you don’t, one day you’ll lose everything down to your underclothes.”
“Fine, no game then.” Roy shrugged and let it go, murmuring under his breath, “A pity, I wanted to see a Squirrels’ deck.”
“What?!” Severin snapped, springing upright like an angry little lion. His black brows shot up. “Where did you hear of the Squirrels’ band?”
Curiosity edged out fear. The Squirrels’ band, Roy realized at once, was a name for a nonhuman resistance that used to be secret. He had let the word slip.
Severin’s face folded into an odd, tight expression. “Some years back a group calling themselves the Squirrels’ band twisted many Mahakam Dwarves with extremist slogans. Brovar Hogg’s neutral faction opposed them. This was never spoken of openly.”
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