Chapter 157: Advertising tactics

Chapter 157: Advertising tactics

Arwin followed the crowd as it wormed through the market and into what he could only presume to be the center of town. He hadn’t actually explored the main sections of Milten much, so it was anyone’s guess.

The horde of adventurers had gathered in a square around a man standing on the top of a dying fountain. Greenish-grey water sputtered out of the stained heads of angel statues. It dribbled down their mouths like a thin stream of vomit before rejoining the stagnant pool in the fountain’s center.

All the buildings around the square stood in stark contrast to the fountain. They were all well kept and looked to be targeted at the wealthy. There were none of the signs of disrepair in them that the sad water feature possessed.

Arwin suspected that may have been less to do with the fact that Milten lacked the funding to replace the fountain and more to do with the woman standing on top of said fountain. She wore loose black clothing that had been tied at the ends of her arms and legs to leave her movement completely unimpeded.

Her blonde hair was tied back into a bun and a porcelain owl mask obscured her face from sight. The mask had incredible detail carved into it. Even from the distance that Arwin stood at from her, he could have sworn that every single feather on its surface was rippling in the wind.

People continued to pile in around Arwin, cementing his spot in the crowd whether he wanted it or not. There were a disturbing number of adventurers in the square. He was far from claustrophobic, but this was a bit much.

A man elbowed Arwin in the stomach, trying to make space for himself and not looking where he was moving. He let out a pained curse as elbow connected with metal. He glared up at Arwin, but all the anger evaporated from his expression as his eyes landed on Arwin’s mask.

The man hurriedly turned away and pushed through the crowd, any bitter words swallowed before they could escape his lips. Arwin shook his head and looked back to the stage. The woman was definitely part of the Secret Eye.

He hadn’t had many dealings with them before, but he’d had enough. They were the ones that generally found the locations of just about every new dungeon — and that was quite a feat. Dungeons weren’t exactly easy to track.

They appeared seemingly of their own volition and brimming with enough magical energy to draw monsters from every corner of the continent. Stronger dungeons could fill themselves in just days.

Keeping up with all of that in addition to cataloguing every guild in the kingdom worth noting as well as the most interesting adventurers at any time was far from an easy feat, and the Secret Eye were rumored to be on the smaller side.

Makes me wonder if someone’s lying somewhere or if they’re really just that competent. It’s usually one of the two. I’d say I hadn’t heard of many dungeons going uncatalogued, but I know so little about how the world really works that I think I’d just be tricking myself.

A few more minutes passed and the dull roar of conversation in the square grew louder as it filled to the brim. Finally, the woman lifted her hand into the air. A ripple ran through the crowd as people noticed the motion and stopped speaking. Once the majority of the noise had stopped, she let her hand fall.

“Thank you all for attending,” the woman said, her voice carrying effortlessly through the air as if she were standing right beside Arwin. “I suspect the majority of you are already aware of the reason why I am here, but for any newcomers, there has been a new dungeon discovered on the outskirts of Milten. Its difficulty rating has yet to be determined as we have not been able to completely clear it.”

A few seconds of silence passed as she paused to make sure everybody had heard her before starting to speak again.

“That said, we have confirmed a few more pieces of information since the last update yesterday,” the woman continued. “The first eight rooms of the dungeon are decidedly Journeyman level. However, some of the monsters are slightly more competent than average Journeymen, so we suggest that adventurers on the lower ends of the Journeyman spectrum refrain from delving too deep.”

“What kind of monsters are they?” Someone called.

“The Secret Eye cannot verify the identity of the recurring monsters in a dungeon due to the nature of dungeons,” the woman said without missing a beat. “The majority of the enemies seemed to be goblinoid as of yesterday, but this can change based on the amount of monsters killed and their reproduction rate. More importantly, we still have yet to discover the key that allows access to the lower portion of the dungeons.”

A few disappointed mumbles passed through the crowd.

“Has anyone checked the Hounds’ Guildhouse?” someone else in the crowd asked.

“It was thoroughly studied after the disbandment of their guild,” the Secret Eye representative said in a tone that told Arwin this was far from the first time she’d answered this particular question. “The key is not present. If anyone has information about its whereabouts, we will reward them handsomely. Do not fret. No secret remains uncovered forever. There will be a time in the near future when the dungeon is properly accessible. We will open the path, but it will be you that treads it.”

Which is a fancy way to say we’ll find a way to crack the lock, but we aren’t going to be the ones sticking our necks out on the line to get killed. If anyone actually finds something interesting enough to draw the Secret Eye’s attention, I imagine they’ll just buy it off them.

“Er... What? I, uh—”

Arwin reached down and yanked the sword from the man’s sheath while he stumbled over his words. He wrapped the man’s hands around the weapon’s hilt and flicked him in the chest. A clang rang out and he did his best not to wince in pain. Flicking metal hurt, even with [Indomitable Bulwark].

“You need good armor if you’re going to delve into a dungeon as dangerous as this one,” Arwin said. “You need something you can trust. Would you let me run you through with this sword?”

“What? Of course not,” the man said, finally gathering his wits. “What’s wrong with you?”

“That’s because your armor is lacking,” Arwin said. “Stab me.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Arwin said impatiently. He didn’t have long before he completely pissed off or lost the attention of the rest of the crowd. Mercifully, the Secret Eye representative wasn’t interfering. “Stab me in the chest.”

And then he did a little cheating. His hand wrapped around the bracelet in his pocket and he lifted it, palm covering the metal to conceal it from view, and shoved it into his mouth before anyone could say anything. Even though they didn’t get a chance to see it, he knew exactly what it did.

Chitinous Band: Rare Quality

[Chitinskin]: Activating this item will turn its wearer’s body to chitin and greatly reduce their range of movement at the continuous cost of magical energy.

[Chittering]: While this item is active, its wearer’s movements will make loud clicking noises.

“Come on,” Arwin growled through a mouthful of metal. He shoved his hands into his pockets so nobody would see any changes to his skin. The only other open skin on his body was at his feet, and that was effectively covered by the packed crowd. His stomach heated as [The Hungering Maw] activated, consuming the detrimental trait and stopping it from activating. “You got me so bored I’m eating snacks. Stab me in the stomach. If you’ve got an ability, use it. Put some oomph into the strike. Break my armor, if you can. How many other times is someone going to ask you to stab them?”

The man tilted his head to the side, then shrugged. He passed a hand over his sword and grey energy curled off the blade. The adventurer thrust his blade at Arwin’s side, avoiding any vital organs so he wouldn’t kill him when the blade cut through the metal.

At least, that was likely what his plan had been.

Instead, it struck Arwin’s armor, now magically enhanced by the bracelet he’d just eaten. The sword rang like a bell and bounced off, failing to do more than leave a thin scratch across Arwin’s chest.

“And that’s what real armor does,” Arwin declared, his voice still echoing across the square. “Care to let me try that on you?”

“Absolutely not,” the man said, staring at his sword in disbelief. “I—”

Arwin didn’t let him finish. No matter what his demonstration was, people weren’t going to listen forever. “I can’t make every piece as good as mine, but I can get damn close, and for the best price you’re going to get anywhere in Milten. If you want armor you can trust, come find Ifrit at the Infernal Armory.”

With that, Arwin turned and pushed through the crowd. He felt his skin return to normal as the Hungering Maw consumed the last of the power in the band. Gazes bored into his skin as he left. A few people called out to him. He didn’t pause to listen. It didn’t matter what anyone said, good or bad.

He needed attention and now he had it. Even if only a small part of the crowd around him had actually seen the demonstration, with any luck, word would spread about Ifrit’s name once more. Seeds about his work had already been laid, and this would hopefully let them finally flower.

Only one way to find out. I need to get back to my cart so I can see how much shit I just stirred up.