I'm a Immortal Tavernkeeper, But My S-Rank Daughter Doesn't Know That!

As Victor didn’t know the exact way to the shed where Wanda was apparently hiding with Robe, it took him a few minutes to find it at the back of town.

"I’ve finally found it..." said Victor, panting, when he saw the worn stone walls that surrounded the wooden shed.

The sun had been out for some time, but it was still early.

"I certainly took my time. I’d only been here a short time, but I didn’t pay attention to anything other than what Wanda was saying on the way. An amateur mistake."

Despite everything, Victor was sure that this time he had arrived much earlier than if he had wasted time going to the Crooked Alley. While he did his best to fool himself by talking to himself, his heart wouldn’t be fooled so easily and began to beat louder as his pulse quickened. Victor felt his hands become heavy and start to shake, and they only really stopped when he touched the scabbard of his sword. His mouth was dry and the stillness of this place was not comfortable.

For a moment, he had a flashback of Wanda’s body lying before him, of his legs separated from his body, and of the pain, he felt not because he was dying, but because Wanda had seen it all. He was an old man, but he was still human, and it was impossible not to be afraid and uncertain about what had happened.

"Fear not, I’m not an idiot. At this hour, Wanda should be going or is already in Crooked Alley, all I need to do is get her friend out of here alive and warn her about the assassination attempt."

It wasn’t as if Victor had any other option. He had already come this far and there was no chance of him turning back. Finding his resolve, Victor raised his head and looked ahead, to where the shed was. Victor observed the shed in front of him intently, the weathered wood and the dark outlines against the night sky. His eyes traveled around the perimeter, looking for any sign of movement or human presence, and then, when he saw nothing, Victor moved toward the stone wall that surrounded the place.

When he reached the wall, Victor gave a silent push and easily jumped over it. On the other side, he gazed at the apparently abandoned land. The place was quiet. There was no sound apart from the whispering wind and that metallic sound of the rooster on the highest point of the roof.

As he approached the entrance, the wood of the small balcony creaked under his feet. There was a possibility that the killer was already here, so he needed to be a little cautious. His heart beat hard in his chest, echoing in the silence of the night.

He had two options now. The first and most logical way to storm the place quickly was to take advantage of the element of surprise, but in that case, the remote possibility of Wanda still being in the shed became more alarming than comforting, because in the darkness of the place she could simply rip his head off with one move, without even giving him a chance to fight back or realize who she was attacking.

So Victor decided to go for the riskiest option and, at the same time, the safest for his own integrity. With one last look around, he reached out to knock on the shed door.

The sound echoed in the air, reverberating in the emptiness of the night. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze, including the simple sounds that had seemed so noisy a moment ago. Then a muffled noise came from inside the shed, indicating that someone was inside.

Victor waited, the seconds stretching out like hours, until the door slowly opened. A figure stood out in the dim light, obscured by the shadows of the night. Victor could just make out indistinct outlines and the figure’s eyes widened. Then the person inside the shed reached through the gap, grabbed the collar of Victor’s cloak and, with all his strength, tried to pull him inside.

However, Victor didn’t even move with this tug, like a large, heavy stone. He grabbed the figure’s hand and stopped him from going back inside.

With the light of the approaching moon, the figure’s face was finally revealed. It was a man, or rather a young man, no more than twenty-five years old. His hair was short and he had an unshaven face, as well as worn clothes.

"You’re Robe the thief, aren’t you?" Victor asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Who are you?" Robe asked, startled.

"My name is Victor Shieldman, Wanda’s father."

The revelation of the man’s name caused Robe’s expression to contort in surprise. He recognized the name, of course, but first, he looked Victor over from head to toe.

"The White Bear? How... how do you know my name? And how did you find me?" stammered Robe, fearing the consequences of his identity being revealed.

"I have ways of obtaining information, especially when it comes to the safety of my daughter, Wanda," Victor replied sternly and released Robe’s wrist.

The young thief squeezed his own wrist, as if to check that everything was all right. "I... I didn’t know you were coming. I wouldn’t have..."

"Wouldn’t have what?" Victor interrupted him. "You wouldn’t have involved my daughter in the shady business you’re in? Is that what you were about to say?" Disappointment weighed heavily on Victor’s voice.

Robe’s gown shook his head, his eyes turning away from Victor’s firm gaze. "It’s not like that, Mr Shieldman. I’m incapable of forcing her into anything, she’s the one who got me out of prison."

Victor took a deep breath, keeping his cool, and his expression softened a little. "Let me in," he said. "We have a business to discuss, and I’d rather do it in there."

Reluctance still marked Robe’s face, but he stepped out of Victor’s way and into the shed. The interior was dark, only a few moonbeams penetrated through the gaps in the wooden walls and the boards that covered the window. The smell of dust and old wood permeated the room, and the chairs and tables reminded Victor of his own tavern on empty days.

"What do you want with me?" asked Robe fearfully, while Victor lit a small gas lantern on a table, illuminating the surrounding space. "If you came here to talk to Wanda, she’s not here and it’ll take her a while to get back."

Victor let out a heavy sigh and pulled up a chair to sit down. "I didn’t come here to punish you, Robe, if that’s what you’re thinking, nor did I come here to talk to Wanda. I think I came here to save you."

Robe stared at Victor for a moment. "Save me?"

Victor Shieldman nodded, took a small canteen out of his pocket, and began to drink from the liquid inside. When he stopped drinking, he wiped his lips with the back of one hand and continued:

"Yes, to save you... At best, in a few minutes, a professional assassin will try to kill you. I don’t know the exact reason, but I suppose you’ve annoyed someone enough for them to have spent a lot of money on a very good assassin."

"Shit, shit, shit..." Robe started pacing back and forth. "I can understand them keeping an eye on me, after all, I was released from prison, but sending someone to kill me? I didn’t do anything, I just stole some jewelry and distributed it around the favelas."

Victor took another sip of what was in his canteen and that was enough to empty it completely.

"In the South, that would be enough for some people to want your head." Victor said and turned the canteen upside down, but not even a last drop came out.

"But, Mr Shieldman, how do you know that an assassin is coming to kill me?"

At that moment, as Victor put his canteen back inside his cloak, he thought about what he would answer. Victor felt that if he said he had a vision of the future, he would be labeled crazy, especially if he said he had the feeling that he had already experienced it all, including his own death. So he looked Robe in the eye and said:

"You know, like I said, I have my connections." Victor stood up and began to look around. "Now, tell me, is there anywhere in this shed where you can hide? A basement, a metal box, a safe, anything. I thought I’d have time to escape with you, but she’s already here."

"She?"

"Yes, she... Now, talk: is there anywhere you can be safe?"

"Yes, there’s a basement, where the wine cellar used to be."

Just then, a wooden plank from the entrance porch creaked, catching their attention. Robe’s eyes widened, Victor put his hand on the collar of his cloak and unbuttoned it.

"Then go to the basement and only come out when I tell you to leave. You’re my daughter’s friend, I don’t want you to die if possible."

Startled, Robe nodded and ran to the basement as fast as he could.

Victor calmly removed his cloak, giving him more freedom of movement. He also removed the scabbard from his belt and rested it on one of the tables, where he slowly began to remove the sword.

’Wanda was paralyzed when I entered the shed at that time, and she’s not used to hesitating. The cut on her right cheek... The assassin probably cut her with a blade drenched in a strong paralyzing agent. I’ll have to be very careful to avoid getting caught by that, otherwise, it’s checkmate for me too."

Suddenly, two knocks sounded at the front door, and if it hadn’t been for already knowing that an assassin was coming, Victor wouldn’t have been paying attention and would have opened the door too, just like Robe did for Victor.

’The boy looks innocent, so much so that he didn’t even realize that the nobles could send assassins to kill him. That must have been the reason he died in that vision I had... However, the nobles are unlucky, I’m not so meek.’ thought the almost retired hunter.