CH 24

March 08, 2023

One month passed since the obliteration of the Palpud Union. Summer finally came in full force. Each day was hotter than the last, and as the temperature increased, so did the sales of the tears of falling stars. Money rolled in at a steady rate, but was it worth all the noisy customers? The tears were supposed to fund Stella’s living expenses; she’d never intended for them to grow as a business. In fact, she was considering discontinuing the product. The Stock Company was under Mace’s leadership now, and he was her pawn.

Marie, however, had practically begged Stella to increase production. Unable to turn down the request, she continued to produce the tears as part of her daily magic training.

Mace had also asked her to increase production of the elixir, but that she’d promptly refused. Pressed for the reason, he’d revealed he was raising funds to curry favor with both the Astral Church and the Khorshid Empire. Stella had never asked him to do such a thing; he’d come up with the plan all on his own. He seemed to have thought it was too early to report anything to her, but if word of his plans were to reach Greggs’s ears, he would be in deep water. In his new position of leadership, he couldn’t afford to be so naive.

Mace’s plans were part of his preparations to take over the city, a goal which, to Stella, seemed hopelessly premature. Right now, he should keep his ambition in check and solidify his position. “I trust you know what awaits you if you act on impulse and fail,” Stella had said with a forceful tone. Mace had turned pale, suddenly aware of the immense danger he was putting himself in. Her first successful job as consultant.

Stella had let him off with a kick on the back and a request that he bring her a bag of rare coffee beans. She was much fitter nowadays; her healthy diet was starting to bear fruit.

Stella sighed. “This coffee is excellent. I swear, freshly ground beans are where it’s at. They even smell better.”

“It’s so good, isn’t it!” Rye said. “I figured drinking it cold would be good, since it’s summer, and I was totally right! The customers love it!”

The girl quaffed a cup of her special-made coffee. Stella was surprised she could drink such a sweet beverage so quickly.

“Don’t make it sound as if we’re drinking the same thing,” Stella said. “You have the taste buds of a child.”

“You’re a child too! Younger than me, even!”

“Quiet, please. It’s stuffy enough in here without you screaming into my ear.”

“Then what are you doing drinking hot coffee?” Rye pouted.

Stella ignored the girl and focused on her coffee, enjoying its fragrance. Few things were better than a cup of coffee after breakfast. Especially if it was Marie’s coffee.

Speaking of Marie, she seemed to have something on her mind. Why wasn’t she getting ready to open the store?

“Uhm, Miss Stella. Would you spare me a moment?”

“Marie? What is it? If you want something—anything—don’t be afraid to ask. As long as it’s within reason, of course. You work as hard as at least thirty Becks, and you deserve a reward.”

‘Keke! And she cooks as well as at least a ’undred of ’im, eh!’

“Or perhaps a thousand.”

“You’re going too hard on him, don’t you think?” Rye said. “He’d definitely cry if he was here now.”

It’s no use pitying that one, Stella thought. It always goes to his head. He needs to be kept on a tight leash.

“I appreciate your kind words, Miss Stella,” Marie said. “So, the house to the right of the store has been empty for quite some time. Did you know that?”

“No. I never cared about that house.”

“Did you never notice?!” Rye said. “I mean, it’s right there!”

“I don’t have any friends or acquaintances to rely on. With my poor constitution, I rarely ever left the house. And when I did, I was accosted by thugs and debt collectors. Lovely, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m sure you’ll understand why I don’t know my neighbors.”

Some of the neighbors had gone as far as throwing trash and mud at her. She hadn’t even owed them money. Weak people were always looking for someone weaker to pick on. No one did that to Stella anymore, though. Not since she’d gained the support of the Stock Company. Now they were all waves and smiles. Typical human behavior.

Scum, all of them. I’m tempted to eradicate the whole lot, but I don’t suppose that would be good for the store’s reputation.

Remembering her childhood got Stella worked up. For a moment, she considered crushing them all, including Dominique, whom she’d been intentionally ignoring. But only for a moment. The Company needed people to exploit. Getting rid of them would damage its profits. Besides, Dominique didn’t deserve an easy death. Living in torment was a much better punishment. Stella should tell Mace to increase the interest rate on his debt. What would it feel like, working hard every day and being unable to pay it off?

Stella took a deep breath. That’s all in the past now, she thought. I got my revenge against those who wronged me. There’s no point in taking it further. They’ll suffer enough without my help. “So, the house. What about it?” she said, back in control of her feelings.

“You see, it’s actually registered under the name of the Stock Company. So I’ve been thinking maybe we could renovate it and open a restaurant. Since the store is doing quite well, and many of our customers like to eat and drink right outside, it would be, uhm . . .”

“I see what you’re getting at. They’re annoying, aren’t they? Always sitting around like they own the place.”

The tear addicts. They were allowed to stay, since they were paying, but they were still an insufferable bunch.

“Our customers complain about them. Some have come from afar specifically to buy from us. They say the entrance is too crowded.”

“Why don’t they visit a tavern instead? The whole point of letting the Company sell the tears in its taverns was to have fewer customers here.”

“Yes, but many prefer to buy from the source. They say it’s the original. Also, Rye’s been carving decorations into the wooden canteens. It’s so well done; the customers love it!” Marie smiled.

“M-Marie! I told you not to tell her!” Rye said, blushing.

“Oh, dear, but I think you’re very good at it.”

“No I’m not! I’m just doing it to pass the time!”

Huh. That’s new. “Rye. Where did you learn that?”

“U-Uhm . . . I learned the pattern from my mother. She said it used to be popular in some kingdom from long ago. I thought it was pretty, so I practiced carving it. It’s no big deal.”

“Well, you’re going to show me that later,” Stella said, prodding Rye in the forehead. “I must know all the secrets of this world.”

“A-All right, all right. No need to get mad.” Rye took a nervous step back, sweating coldly.

Why are you scared? “I’m not mad, I’m just glad I got to see a new side of you. Look, I’m smiling from the bottom of my heart.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that? You always smile when you’re angry. The bigger your smile, the more pissed you are! That’s what Clever said!”

“Did he, now?”

‘Gah! Look, I told ya! Tha’s the full smile, eh, the smile of the demon witch!’ Clever hurled himself out the window.

“All right, I’ll show you later.” Rye paused and scratched her head. “I mean, we’re . . . friends, kind of. So you can stop saying you have no friends now. Because that’s just sad!”

Rye’s ability to speak from the heart was certainly one of her greatest qualities.

Stella remembered the things they did. Fishing and playing in the river, eating together at table, talking about inane topics. Her relationship with Rye was not one between master and servant. Maybe it was, in fact, better described as a friendship.

“That’s right, Rye,” Stella said. “You’re my property and dear friend—and friends don’t keep secrets from each other. Tell me all your secrets this instant!”

“W-What? No!”

Stella chuckled. “I’m joking, of course. No need to get defensive. I wouldn’t want you to lie to me.” She sipped her coffee, then realized. “Oh, Rye, you’ve derailed the conversation with your funny antics. You silly child.”

“Y-You’re blaming me?!”

“Marie, you have my approval for the restaurant. You’re free to approach it as you see fit.”

“Thank you, Miss Stella. I’ve discussed it with Mr. Mace, and he said he’d help staff us as soon as it was approved.”

Stella was skeptical. She didn’t trust Mace to find the right people for any job unless it was something simple and thoughtless like heavy lifting. His men were liable to destroy a restaurant trying to clean it.

“You shouldn’t put too much stock in his words,” Stella said. “Besides, thugs don’t make for very good servers. Which means we’ll have to take care of the recruiting ourselves.”

“Should we send out a recruitment notice, then?”

Stella imagined what sorts of applicants this town would offer. It made her head hurt. She was tired of Beck wannabees, yet they seemed to be everywhere, like sugar ants. If they saw a job offer, at least a hundred would show up. A chill went down Stella’s spine.

“Not if we want people who can do a proper job,” she said. “I could buy some more slaves, if you don’t mind. What do you think, Rye?”

Rye’s expression shifted. It seemed she wouldn’t get over her aversion to slavery so easily. “Do what you want,” the girl said. “This isn’t the worst place they could end up in.”

“It’s settled, then. Marie, continue the preparations to open the restaurant. Use the store’s funds as you need them. I can approve whatever needs to be approved later. Rye, you’re going to assist her.”

“Got it. I was gonna do that anyway!”

“Varrell. You’re coming with me to—”

“Sorry,” Varrell interrupted, “but I’ve got a stomachache. Can I sit this one out?”

Varrell doubled over, trying to lend credibility to his excuse, but Stella knew he’d eaten enough breakfast for two people. Stella had sent him on a shopping trip two days ago, and he’d raced back into the store panting. He’d been acting strange ever since.

“I’m afraid not,” Stella said. “Tell me the real reason you don’t want to leave.”

“There’s something out there that I really don’t want to deal with.”

“Is it that storm you mentioned?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, this place has been found. She won’t break in, but I’m certain she’s carefully watching the perimeter. If I step outside, she’s going to attack. I can’t drag you into my problems.”

“Well, you’ll have to go outside eventually. And how do you know she won’t break in?”

“Because, apparently, she’s a more civilized boar than I’d thought. She’s a good person at heart, really. Not one to inconvenience others for no reason. The store should be fine for now.”

“And when she runs out of patience?”

Varrell froze. “I’ll deal with her then.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Come on, let’s just go. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m still worried about myself . . .”

“That’s not my problem. Besides, this sister of yours sounds like a real piece of work. I simply must meet her.”

Stella dragged Varrell out of the store and toward the Central District. He wore his customary armor and red headband, and his battle senses were visibly tingling. Every few paces, his hand twitched toward the hilt of the crimson greatsword on his back. The last thing he wanted, he said, was to be caught by surprise.

Stella left him to his paranoia, trying not to get too annoyed. It was too hot to think today. Better conserve her energy.

There was no storm in the end, fortunately, though walking in the heat took a heavy toll on Stella. She wiped the sweat off her brow with the sleeve of her cloak. This is unbearable, she thought. I should get a summer outfit made.

Stella arrived at the slave market to find it emptier than usual. There were considerably fewer wares for sale.

“If it isn’t Miss Stella! Welcome, welcome. The streets have been teeming with rumors about you these days.”

“What kinds of rumors?”

“All kinds. Everyone talks about your tears of falling stars, and for good reason. I can attest to their quality myself.” The slaver grinned.

“That’s good to hear. By the way, what happened to your wares?”

“I see nothing escapes your attention,” he said with a chuckle. “The Empire recently bought the whole lot of them. Men, women, children, of all ages and origins. They were sent off to the province of Verdant. The ones that you see here are my new acquisitions. If the Empire is willing to buy my dead inventory, I’ll certainly do business again in the future.”

The province of Verdant was the region occupied by the Khorshid Empire during its expedition. Using it as a foothold, the Empire was expanding toward the southeastern portion of the continent while repelling the Astral Church’s attempts to retake territory. This war was not going to end any time soon.

“Why do they want so many slaves?” Stella asked. “Couldn’t they use the people of Verdant?”

According to Varrell, the Empire had many noble landowners on its side. The Church’s influence was weaker in the southeast, and the local nobility were seeking independence from its increasingly strict rule.

“I hear they’re being taken to the Empire’s mainland,” the slaver said. “They probably need the workers. Doesn’t sound like it’s worth the trouble, but they’re buying, so what do I care? Hah!”

“Indeed. So, what do you have for me today?”

“A modest selection of young women and children. I intend to send all men of working age to Verdant. The Empire is paying double for them. Easy money!” He displayed a toothy grin.

I suppose children are not their priority. Maybe the Empire was in desperate need of bolstering its labor force. Still, double the asking price? It was too generous. But whatever lay behind this mystery, it was nothing that concerned Stella.

“I’ll take three,” she said. “Which three is up to you.”

The slaver scratched his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I have one requirement, though. They must be capable of understanding human language. I don’t have time to train animals. Anyway, get on with it. I’d pick them myself, but it’s too hot out here.”

Stella had glanced at the slaves when she’d walked into the square, but all she saw were the same dead eyes on different faces. Such a boring bunch. This time that didn’t matter, though. All she wanted were laborers. Marie would be responsible for their training. Stella didn’t have time to micromanage every little thing. If one or two of them turned out to be interesting people, that would be a welcome bonus.

“Sorry for the wait,” the slaver said as he returned. “How about these three?”

A regular town girl, not too comely, and two meek-looking boys, as ordinary as they could be. All three despondently stared at the ground, as if lamenting their fates.

“My name is Stella, and I’d like to become your new owner. You’ll be employed in my future restaurant. You’ll have proper wages, and I promise to let you go free in ten years if that’s what you want. I’m not going to force you to come with me, though. If you agree to my conditions, nod. If not, shake your heads.”

At first, the three simply gawked at her haughty tone. After short consideration, however, they nodded. It wasn’t hard to deduce their thought process. Even if Stella’s promise of wages and eventual freedom were nothing but a lie, her offer was still much better than being sent off to a distant continent.

“It’s settled. Varrell, pay the man.” Stella turned again to look at the three. “You’re coming with me, then. To your new home.”

Varrell walked in front, leading Stella and the three slaves back to the West District.

Then he suddenly stopped. His hand went to the hilt of his sword.

“Has the storm arrived? It certainly took its sweet time.” Stella was brimming with curiosity. What was Varrell’s sister really like?

“Yeah,” Varrell said. “She leaves me no choice, then. Stella, stay here with the others, where it’s safe.”

“All right. But if you’re in a pinch, just say it. As your owner, I’ll gladly jump in to help.”

He smiled awkwardly. “That’s good to hear. I’ll do my best to avoid troubling you, though. Anyway, off I go.”

Stella followed Varrell’s gaze to the young woman who was blocking their path. She had blond hair, done in twin tails, and looked like an enraged boar ready to charge. The dual swords strapped to her belt must be her weapons of choice. Her armor was of light silver. Anyone would agree that she was a swordsman of striking beauty.

. . . Wait. Haven’t I seen her before in the arena?

“We finally meet again,” the woman said.

“We saw each other just two days ago.”

“D-Details! Cut the nonsense and give me that sword! This instant, I tell you!”

“You never learn. I’ve told you a million times—I can’t give it to you. Besides, you have no claim on it. Our mother has officially passed it down to me.”

“Cease your excuses! I know you coaxed her into it! Mother is a great person, but she can be too soft and naive!”

“Good thing she can’t hear you right now. She’d be shocked.”

“Besides, that crimson greatsword is the honor of the Art Family. As such, I should be the one to inherit it!” She paused, noticing Stella and the others. “Who are those people behind you?!”

“Oh, them? We bought them at the—”

“B-B-Bought, you say?! You, an Art, buying young women and children to fulfill your deranged fantasies?! Have you no shame? How low can you get? Animal! Monster! Demon! No—you’re the Devil King himself!”

“Typica, wait. You’re getting it all wrong. Take a deep breath, calm down, and let me explain. Our mentor used to always tell you to listen to people when they’re talking to you, remember?”

“Silence! I’m not listening to any more of your pathetic excuses! Your head shall roll!”

“Wait—!”

“You have tarnished the Art name! Prepare yourself!”

Typica’s dual swords flashed to her hands as she charged at Varrell. She reached him in a few heartbeats, then transferred the momentum of her charge into an endless flurry of strikes. For a woman, Typica was an extremely skilled fighter. Varrell parried and parried, but parrying was all he could do. If truth be told, with that giant sword of his, it was surprising that he could keep up with her at all. Stella watched as the swords met repeatedly with sharp metallic sounds.

“For goodness’ sake, listen to me!” Varrell begged.

“Your voice makes my ears rot! How dare you take advantage of innocent children like them? You’re a sexual deviant! Disgusting!”

“And you’re a stubborn boar!”

Varrell parried a few more blows, then finally managed to get an attack in. He kicked Typica on the side, eliciting a grunt and pushing her away. Typica hesitated for a moment, but her rage got the better of her. She laughed, her teeth on full display, as if to suggest she hadn’t even felt the blow.

“I told you not to laugh like that,” Varrell said. “If Mother were here right now, she’d be crying.”

“I won’t hear that from you! If Mother were here, she’d find your sick actions far more saddening! But enough playing around. This final strike shall be swift and painless. Meet your maker!”

Switching to an inverted grip, Typica charged at Varrell a second time.

“How stubborn can you get, woman!” Varrell said, placing his sword between them and bracing for the impact.

They came together with a crash.

A split second later, Typica thrust her dual blades forward in a blur. The lightning-fast strikes broke through Varrell’s defenses, chipping away at his thick armor. Then, bellowing out a war cry, Typica crossed her weapons to deliver the final blow.

“You’re still making all of the same mistakes,” Varrell said. “That’s why I keep telling you—how can you learn if you never listen to people?”

“N-No, this can’t be. Me, losing? Again? Impossible . . .”

The pommel of Varrell’s sword was pressed against Typica’s stomach. A nonlethal strike. Typica’s blades hung in the air, inches from their target.

“Are you done?” he asked.

Instead of answering, Typica grabbed Varrell’s arm. Her eyes glinted dully as she snapped her jaw at his throat.

“I guess not!” Varrell said.

Typica laughed uncontrollably. “I’ve got you in my snare, pervert! Your throat shall be my dinner!”

“G-Get off me! Typica, stop this madness!”

“Die! Die! Die!”

Varrell tried desperately to push her away, but she saw an opening and plunged her teeth deep into his neck. Blood, bright and red, dripped from the wound. Unless Stella did something, Typica would end up biting into a major artery and killing him.

It would be too stupid to lose Varrell like this, Stella thought. It was a nice show, but I need to help now.

Stella was about to step forward to interfere when Typica stopped moving and released Varrell’s neck. Looking down, Stella saw Varrell’s fist buried in the pit of Typica’s stomach—the same spot he’d hit with the pommel of his sword moments before. The blow should be quite effective.

Typica wailed and writhed in pain like a dying beast, spraying vomit as she rolled on the floor. Shortly, she came to a rest, unconscious. It’s hard to call her beautiful when she’s like this.

“You deserve a round of applause, Varrell,” Stella said. “That was quite the show.”

Stella handed Varrell a handkerchief. He accepted it with a thankful nod and wiped the blood on his neck. The wound wasn’t very deep; his muscles had protected him.

Varrell sighed. “It’s usually not this bad, you know.”

“You were in actual danger, weren’t you?” Stella said, smirking. “You hardly ever lose your composure like that.”

“When my sister snaps, she becomes incredibly dangerous. Like a boar mixed with a wolf, or perhaps a tiger. Occasionally a fool gets it in his head to hit on her, on account of her pretty face. She usually leaves them crippled. She’s wiped out countless bands of brigands all on her own. Just think about it—what would happen if I were to let her have this sword? Victims would pile up behind her.”

The world would certainly become a livelier place. Stella playfully considered letting Typica run amok in town. Not in her neighborhood, though. She could have her fun in the North District, Greggs’s home turf.

“That sounds really fun, though,” she said. “Can’t we try it just once?”

“God, please no. You’d be the only one laughing.” Varrell rubbed his temples. “I only wish this could be our last encounter . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“How many times do you think she’s attacked me like this? Thirty times. Thirty. It’s exhausting, and I always have to nurse her back to health afterward. Talk about wasted effort.” He sighed wearily.

“You could cripple her now and be rid of her forever. But you refuse to do that.”

“As foolish as she may be, she’s still family, and I love her. It doesn’t matter if we can’t get along. The bond of family is unbreakable.”

“I wasn’t expecting to be boasted to. Anyway, grab her and let’s get out of here. I hate being the center of attention.”

They had started to gather an audience. In this town, where people killed each other on the streets every day, suffering and death were the highest form of entertainment. “Kill her!” some cried out; “Let me have her!” others demanded. Varrell’s glare sent them scrambling away.

“If you don’t mind,” Varrell said, “can I take her back to the store?”

“Sure. She looks entertaining enough. But I won’t have her going on a rampage in my store. Keep her in check, like a responsible owner.”

“I will.” Varrell sighed one last time, then effortlessly hoisted up his sister.

Typica was something else. Her unusual manner of speaking, the way she transformed when she snapped—everything about her was fascinating. Unfortunately, though, her mental faculties seemed to be beyond subpar. The decisive factor would be whether she could hold a conversation. Stella was tired of stupid people, regardless of how interesting or strong they might be.

Am I stuck with only meeting stupid people for the rest of my life? People whose life purpose seems to be causing me trouble?

Stella shook off the thought. No, she wasn’t cursed. That was silly. She had the means to make her own path in life, like everyone else. Stella suppressed her bad feelings and hurried off along the street.