Soon, he set his sights on the town of Saltworks, which was just over 180 kilometers from Harrenhal, where he was now.
It was less than a three day ride from there (two days if one didn't care about the horse's condition). In such a short span, even players who rushed to the meeting point from the beginning might not have arrived yet.
In other words, under ideal circumstances, he could even score the first kill.
Even if he couldn't, as long as he successfully hunted down a player within the next two months, those 4 points alone would be enough to eliminate the threat of the assassination mechanism for a long time to come.
Waiting was still wrong. Although other professions might not realize their starting equipment was easy to identify, traveling merchants definitely would. They were likely to sell off some assets, buy more mules and horses, or even dismiss a few servants or hire more farmers to assist them.
In that case, how could one tell them apart?
After thinking for a while, Ethan found the answer the starting capital. Their initial funds of 100 gold dragons remained fixed.
Ethan had studied this carefully while creating his character and clearly remembered that, except for the final profession selection, the earlier choices had a negligible effect on the starting funds.
In other words, even if a traveling merchant maximized their starting capital through character options, they would not have more than 110 gold dragons. To earn 1,000 gold dragons or even more within two months, they would have to invest nearly all of their capital.
"When I arrive in Saltworks, I just need to find out the local salt price. Maybe the foreman takes a kickback, so I'll investigate that rate as well. Based on those two pieces of information, I can estimate the merchant players' purchase volume and target anyone whose shipping volume looks suspicious." Ethan finalized the plan in his mind.
Without wasting more time, he quickly gathered all his equipment from the table.
He planned to sell everything his gear and his horse then buy a machete and an old draft horse, disguising himself as an ordinary caravan guard headed to Saltworks.
The caravan guard was actually one of the professions players could choose, but due to its poor equipment, weak stats, and lack of money, Ethan had ranked it in the T3 tier.
Moreover, the guard's starting equipment consisted of a short sword and leather armor. Ethan made sure to get these details right.
Anyway, given the pitiful combat strength of a traveling merchant, as long as he could approach without arousing suspicion, he could take them down with ease.
The advantage was his!
Thinking of this, Ethan began estimating the value of his equipment.
A full set of armor could fetch around 500 silver stags, and a hand and a half sword might go for over 200.
As for his horse, currently tied up in the inn's yard, his character background memory told him it was a five year old riverlands horse recently matured and in its prime. It should fetch at least 750 silver stags.
Altogether, that came to more than 1,300 silver stags.
After finishing the valuation, Ethan packed up his gear, opened the door, and stepped outside.
On the first floor, he asked the landlady for the location of Harrenhal's blacksmith shop and paid 10 copper pennies for his stay. Then he headed to the backyard stable, picked up his horse, and left the inn.
At the hotel's entrance, Ethan paused.
Less than half a meter ahead of him stood an incredibly thick stone wall. Covered in moss and riddled with cracks, it looked as though it had weathered centuries of decay.
Ethan stepped forward and peeked through the gaps.
On the other side was an abandoned hall with no roof. Rubble and trash were piled inside. Dusty flags still hung on the walls, their coat of arms long obscured, as though whispering tales of forgotten history.
The gloom and the stench leaking through the cracks made Ethan's heart race. He didn't linger. He withdrew his gaze and quickly walked toward the alley's exit.
As he rounded the corner, a sudden gust of wind blew from the north, followed by a strange wailing sound in the sky.
Ethan knew the sound came from wind whistling through the cracks in the rocks of the Howling Tower, but it still sent chills down his spine. He picked up the pace, breaking into a trot.
The echo of footsteps and hooves filled the narrow alley, blending eerily with the wind's moaning.
After crossing several abandoned, debris strewn streets, Ethan finally reached the square where the blacksmith shop stood.
"What bad luck. Sell the gear and get out of this cursed place," he muttered. He tied the horse to a wooden post and stepped inside.
The blacksmith shop was almost deserted only an old blacksmith and two young apprentices were present.
The old blacksmith was short but sturdy, with graying brown hair. As Ethan entered, he had just finished hammering an iron sword and was plunging it into a bucket of cold water.
The red hot blade hissed as it met the water, releasing a thin mist of steam.
"Young man, need anything?" the old blacksmith asked as he turned around.
Ethan scanned the room and quickly ruled out the presence of other players.
First, he had asked the landlady about the blacksmith. Given that player characters appeared out of nowhere, this veteran blacksmith who had worked in Dusk Valley all his life was clearly an NPC.
Then there were the two apprentices, both around ten years old well below the playable age limit.
Ethan exhaled in relief, opened his pack, and placed his sword and chainmail on the table.
"Uncle, I want to sell this equipment," he said.
The old blacksmith, Eton, glanced at Ethan with suspicion, then carefully examined the gear. There were no cracks, and the wear was minimal. With a bit of polishing, it could be resold for a decent profit.
But… Eton looked at Ethan again, puzzled. "You're a knight, right? And so young. Why are you selling your gear?"
Ethan was indeed very young too young.
When creating his character, Ethan discovered age didn't affect stats, so he'd set it to the minimum limit: sixteen.
To the old blacksmith, a knight that young should have a promising future. He couldn't understand why Ethan would give it all up.
Because I took an arrow to the knee? Ethan joked inwardly. Outwardly, he gave a bitter smile and made up a story: "I've had enough of the life of a hedge knight. They say we're just a step away from being robber knights. There's no honor in it anymore, and I don't want to live like that."
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