Chapter 217: That bad

Lunch went by too quickly. The entirety of the Menagerie other than Rodrick, who was still out in town, ate together. Lillia’s cooking felt like it improved by leaps and bounds every single time she made something new.

Even though her food didn’t give him quite as much energy as eating a well-made bracelet did, when he ate multiple meals from her a day, the difference was more than made up. Her food also tasted a hell of a lot better than eating metal.

It was also good for breaking up the mild tension at the counter — or rather, the mild tensions. Madiv and Esmerelda sat across from each other, arguing between every bite of food like an old married couple.

Well, that or a pair of mortal enemies. I genuinely can’t tell which one it is as this point. I suppose it depends on if they end up killing each other or not.

Arwin would have considered intervening if Esmerelda wasn’t returning fire with equal intensity to Madiv. Given how lonely her shop had been, he was pretty sure she was getting a kick out of just having someone to talk to.

On the other side of the counter, Reya and Olive sat and finished their meals in silence. Reya definitely considered speaking at least a dozen times through the meal, only to second guess herself and give up before she could form a word. Olive seemed to be an identical boat.

It was almost painful to watch, and Arwin couldn’t do a thing about it.

There’s no way Lillia and I were this bad, is there? I really don’t want to believe I’m that dense.

Lunch managed to finish without anyone professing their love or killing each other, which was definitely a minor miracle.

“I don’t have any more Brightsteel,” Esmerelda snapped, thrusting a finger into Madiv’s chest and glaring at the tall man. “Why are you so insistent on using plain, boring materials? I have an abundance of magical metal. It’s far better than some pathetic Brightsteel, you withered up old fool.”

“Who are you calling old?” Madiv looked down the bridge of his nose at Esmerelda. “And we need Brightsteel because that is what Arwin is paying for. He does not need magical metal, and I refuse to pay the difference.”

“I’ll get you a good price!”

“One gold.”

“No!” Esmerelda glared at Madiv. “One gold? Are you insane? I’m offering to sell you something that great adventurers would die in battle for, and you offer me one — oh, never mind. Use your head for a flicker of a second, empty as it may be. I am giving you an opportunity to purchase a powerful item without even a single gold. All I require—”

“Only gold.” Madiv crossed his arms. “I don’t deal in anything else. Are you telling me that, after claiming to be able to source anything I want, you can’t even get a basic piece of metal?”

“You flea-ridden, pox-nibbling rat. Don’t challenge my abilities,” Esmerelda snarled, leaping from her chair with surprising dexterity and grabbing Madiv by the arm. “Come on. I’ll show you just what I’m capable of. We’ll see about me not being able to get any Brightsteel. I’m sure I can find some of the damned garbage in this swamp of a city.”

She dragged Madiv out of the door, but the vampire didn’t seem too bothered. Arwin was pretty sure he caught a flicker of smug satisfaction in his eyes before they vanished through the door.

Olive and Reya glanced at each other at the same time, then hurriedly broke eye contact. Reya snagged a napkin and wiped at her face with it before sliding out of her stool.

“I’m... uh, going to go run. A lot. I need to practice running,” Reya said.

“Good luck?” Arwin half said, half asked. Going for a run right after lunch probably wouldn’t have been his first choice, but Reya was already halfway out the door.

For a second, he sat silently with Anna and Olive. Then the one-armed swordsman got to her own feet and scratched at the side of her neck.

“Could you tell Lillia thanks for the meal for me? I have to polish my sword.”

She was off without waiting for a response, slipping out of the tavern. Arwin couldn’t help but notice that Olive didn’t have her sword on her, nor did a magical sword typically need any sharpening.

He and Anna exchanged a glance.

“Kids,” Anna said through a snort.

His plot to buy the Menagerie’s land had failed, and not only had they managed to get established as a guild, but they’d been ranked. Even if it was only Rank 499, at the very bottom of the list, they’d done what he hadn’t been able to do in years of work.

Damn it all. Stopping a Dungeon Break when it’s that close to going off is definitely difficult, but couldn’t my men have done that without help? This is ruining how fast I can move, especially after that stunt Ifrit pulled.

The Menagerie are going to be a major thorn in my side if we can’t remove them sooner rather than later. They’ve already got too much support for a guild their size... and if they’re ranked, taking them out means the Ardent Guild might finally get the ranking we’ve been trying for.

It wasn’t like he could just crush them, though. The Ardent Guild was a merchant guild, not an adventurer guild. If he went around killing people himself, the guild’s public image would plummet and merchants would stop working with them.

I wish my damned spymaster and his apprentice weren’t blasted fools. Charles used to be so competent. What happened to him? It feels like I’m flying blind — but it changes nothing. I need to find a way to deal with the Menagerie before they get too strong and fly my reach.

A shadow shifted in the corner of the dark room, just out of the reach of the light flowing in through the window. Tironal’s contemplations froze as he jerked his head to look in the direction of the movement.

He rose to his feet. “Who’s there?”

“Calm yourself, Tironal.” A voice curled from the shadows like wisps of smoke. “If we wanted you dead, then you never would have heard me coming.”

A man clad in sleek black armor stepped out of the darkness. His face was covered by a metal mask that rose up from the top of his chestpiece, leaving only his dull gray eyes visible above it, and even they were partially concealed beneath a thick mat of gray hair. A guild insignia of a thin silver line ran across his chest, right above his heart.

Tironal’s eyes locked onto the insignia on the man’s chest. He felt the blood rush out of his face.

He’s a member of the Setting Sun. What the fuck is someone like that doing in Milten?

“What do—”

The man lifted a hand to his masked face and Tironal’s mouth snapped shut.

“Hush now, Tironal,” the intruder breathed. “I am speaking. Don’t fret, dear merchant. We don’t have any issue with your plans to move into Milten, nor do we care about your little spat with the Dawnseekers.”

Tironal swallowed. He didn’t dare to so much as nod his understanding. There was no point calling for help or his guards. None of his warriors were anywhere near strong enough to kill the man before him, much less stop him from slitting Tironal’s throat in a split second.

“You may answer this question,” the gray-haired shadow said. “I had a... trainee of sorts in Milten. He has gone missing.”

“Nobody in my guild is anywhere near strong enough to kill one of your members,” Tironal said. “I swear to you that it wasn’t us.”

“I don’t care who it was. His death was unfortunate but ultimately irrelevant. If a baby bird falls from the nest and does not fly, then they were fated to meet their end on the ground. I simply wish to recover some of the investments I spent on my apprentice. They were not cheap. One item in particular could be problematic in the wrong hands. It magnifies the desires of whatever it has been connected to with a rather significant amount of magic.”

Tironal swallowed. He’d technically answered the other man’s first question, and he wasn’t sure if he dared to speak again without permission. Amusement crinkled the pale, visible skin of gray-haired man’s face.

“You may speak.”

“You may have full access to anything in my guild to inspect it. If we have mistakenly claimed anything that belongs to you, we will return it without hesitation.”

“Very good — but as you said, you were not strong enough to defeat my apprentice. You have an extensive network in this city, Tironal. I do not have time to invest too much of my own effort, so you will do this task for me, yes? Of course, I will ensure you are properly paid for it.”

Tironal nodded so hard that his chin nearly went straight into his solar plexus. “We are at your command. Who is your late apprentice? I will call my spymaster immediately.”

“He should not be difficult to find. I believe he had started a baby guild in this city,” the intruder said. His words crawled across Tironal’s skin like a wave of spiders. “His name was Jessen.”