NEC Chapter 12: Six-Leaf Grove

During his two months at Black Crow Castle, Chen Mo had diligently gathered intelligence about the surrounding area. The nearest escape point, Six-Leaf Grove, was his top priority. From some guards, he’d learned about this outpost, guarded by the formidable Six-Leaf Centaur Tribe. It had an unwritten rule: newcomers had to hire a local “guide” for a small fee. The job was usually taken by half-grown centaurs like Kaga, serving as both training and a way to earn pocket money.

The minimum was five copper coins, which was why Chen Mo had worked himself to the bone to save that amount.

Now, having come into a bit of wealth, he followed the guards’ advice and offered a silver coin, ensuring it was well worth the cost.

The Six-Leaf Centaur Tribe was a powerful force, or they wouldn’t hold this prime, gold-minelike outpost. Their goodwill could spare you a lot of trouble.

Like reminders about camp rules.

“The camp has its own rules!” Kaga pocketed the silver coin and slipped into his role, explaining with gusto as they walked. “First, keep your bony buddy in check!”

He pointed at Little White, trailing quietly behind. “If it causes trouble, it’s on you! Fighting? Killing? Absolutely not! If you break the rules, our chief gets fierce!”

The young centaur gave an exaggerated shudder, stomping a hoof and kicking up dust. “Very, very heavy punishment! Got it?”

“Outside the camp gates, do whatever. We don’t care.”

“Then,” he gestured at a wooden sign with a six-leaf emblem hanging by a tent, “see those sixleaf markers? Those shops are backed by our tribe! Eat, drink, or buy there, you pay honestly. Try to skip out? Heh…” He stomped again, a wistful look crossing his face.

It seemed the centaurs relished the chance to enforce that rule, perhaps bored by the camp’s calm.

“And last,” Kaga leaned closer, lowering his voice with a “this is big, listen up” expression, “guard your coin pouch! There are sneaky human pickpockets here, like rats in a burrow! If they swipe it,” he spread his hands, shaking his head and mane-braids, “that’s got nothing to do with us! Kaga’s not responsible!”

“But,” he pivoted, “if you stay at the Brave Haven Inn—that’s the one with the shield out front— I can guarantee, as long as you’re inside, no one’ll take a single copper before you step out!” “The innkeeper’s my uncle, totally trustworthy!” he emphasized.

Chen Mo’s tired face managed a faint smile as he nodded. “Got it. Thanks. I’ll stay at Brave

Haven tonight.”

Kaga happily tapped the ground, calling to the guards to open the small gate.

A sturdy young centaur, a battered human, and a rag-wrapped skeleton stepped into the camp under the last glow of sunset.

From a distance, thick earthen walls and sturdy wooden fences enclosed Six-Leaf Grove like a fortress.

But as Chen Mo passed through the gate of bound logs, the scene opened up.

A central dirt road, over five meters wide, stretched straight from the gate. On both sides, crude shacks huddled close, as if jostling for space, their dim yellow lanterns casting long, flickering shadows on the ground.

It was dinnertime, and steaming white smoke, thick with the musky scent of livestock and earthy air, enveloped Chen Mo.

Past the cramped shantytown, the camp’s front corridor, a wide central plaza came into view.

The plaza’s edges were lined with stalls, their vendors’ shouts, haggling, and clanging pots blending into a cacophony that gave Chen Mo the fleeting illusion of a bustling night market back in East Xia.

A burly man in a leather apron, bare-chested, hung bloody beast legs on hooks, red droplets falling onto a dusty cutting board.

An old woman in a tattered gray shirt, smiling with missing teeth, stirred a clay pot, brown broth bubbling under her wooden spoon.

The raw, vibrant market atmosphere hit Chen Mo, his nerves, nearly moldy from Black Crow Castle, suddenly alive as if he’d returned to the human world.

Kaga was clearly popular here—or rather, had great “centaur charisma.” Along the way, all sorts of odd creatures greeted the young centaur warmly.

“Hey, Little Kaga! Come grab some hot soup when you’re done!” the soup-stirring woman called, squinting. “Went all out today, tossed in loads of fresh mushrooms! No worries, none of those glowing yellow ones from last time—pure red goodies now!”

“Kaga, not bringing your fancy guest to my stall?” a lean young vendor waved a trinket. “Just got a batch of quirky stuff from the south, guaranteed to wow!”

“Ha! Kid, where’d you pick up this skeleton pal?” a passing centaur with a pickaxe laughed.

Chen Mo: “…”

Skeleton pal? Is that how you insult a necromancer… er, necromancer apprentice… er, necromancer candidate?

Not everyone was fond of Kaga, though. A young centaur with dirty braids tied behind his neck, eyes sharp with defiance, spotted Kaga and pranced over with exaggerated, almost theatrical leaps, hooves clacking on the hard ground.

“Ugh, bad luck!” the braided centaur spat, his voice sharp and rapid, throwing Chen Mo a disdainful glance. “Today I got a broke client, barely enough guide pay to fill a tooth gap, can’t even afford a cheap flaxleaf pie! Total curse!”

He turned to Kaga, raising his voice. “Come on, Kaga, you can’t let me go home empty-hooved every time! My dad’ll kill me! Be smart, hand this guest over!”

Kaga stepped forward, blocking Chen Mo, his thick neck muscles tensing as he glared. “Scram! Keep yapping, and I’ll beat you before your dad does!”

The braided centaur, cowed by Kaga’s intensity, huffed angrily and stalked off.

Kaga spat at his back. “That guy’s got a black heart! Always drags clients to shady vendors, scamming new faces. Last time, a high-status guest got ripped off, complained to the chief, and he was stuck cleaning livestock pens for a whole rainy season. That stench… whew.”

“If guys like him try to drag you shopping, clutch your coin pouch tight. Don’t trust a single copper!”

Chen Mo took a liking to the straightforward centaur and offered sincere praise: “Yeah, I can tell you’re the best guide. Everyone likes you, no doubt.”

Kaga’s tail flicked proudly, hooves tapping a crisp rhythm. “Of course! Kaga doesn’t scam. I only point to the honest ones!”

Reality, however, soon slapped the enthusiastic centaur in the face.

After Kaga’s rundown of the camp, Chen Mo listed his three needs: a reliable doctor for his wounds, a safe inn for the night, and a ticket for an airship to escape this cursed place for good.

But, unexpectedly, the plan hit a brick wall at the very first step: the doctor.

>>> NEXT CHAPTER