I Was a Sword When I Reincarnated (LN) - Volume 4 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Crystal Cage

We walked through the hustle and bustle of the crowd, making our way to the Count’s mansion.

Fult, the prince of Phyllius, had insisted that we stayed with them, and we were compelled to take him up on it.

Jet hid in the shadows. He was too large and a bother to our fellow pedestrians. Also, he would terrify most of them.

This street should take us into the noble district.

“Hm.”

Bulbola might be several times larger than Alessa, but they shared the same basic layout. The Count’s mansion was in the center of the noble district and the center of the town. Around the noble district were the wealthy, then the average citizens, the business district, and finally a circle of the poor.

We were now in the wealthy part of town. The street wasn’t a main road, and barely wide enough to fit a horse and carriage, but it was still crowded regardless. 

As we were about to enter the noble district, we were faced with a problem. Namely, there were guards carrying out inspections at the gates. Their job was to keep suspicious individuals out of the noble district. Fran, looking like she’d never had anything to do with a noble, was naturally called out. I couldn’t blame them. I’d suspect Fran of funny business, too.

“You are entering the noble district. Do you have any business here?”

“We can give you directions if you’re lost.”

They were polite at least. Fran looked more like a lost little girl than a criminal.

“I’m going to the Count’s manor.”

“What?”

“Why on earth…”

The younger of the guards looked furious for a second, but the older man noticed something. He whispered in his partner’s ear.

“Hang on. She might be the one we were told about…”

“Oh! The Black Cat girl! She does fit the description…”

“Pardon me, but may we ask for your name?”

“Fran.”

“Of course. Apologies, Miss Fran. Please, enter.”

“R-right this way!”

The older guard looked slightly troubled, but the younger was flustered and nervous.

I had a feeling they only recognized her because of the prince. He probably wanted to make sure that she reached the manor without any problems. As far as the guards were concerned, Fran was related to visiting royalty. They had to keep their code of etiquette, no matter what she looked like.

“Thanks.”

“Not at all! Do take care!”

Before we finally reached the manor, we ran into the same scenario twice more. 

The noble district was large, even for a major city, and there were guards posted throughout. The Count’s manor was in front of us, although it was still quite some distance away. We were probably at the entrance now—imposing gates with knights guarding the front and a guard station for them to rest in. The gates lent to the intimidation, and there were two knights posing as gatekeepers.

Fran showed no sign of fear and talked to them as she would to anyone.

“Hey, is this the Count’s mansion?”

The knight stopped, not expecting a little girl to talk to him so casually. 

“Yes… Are you the one our guests have been waiting for?”

“Hm.”

“Excuse me, but may I see your identification?”

“Here you go.”

“Thank you. Please wait.”

The knight understood her purpose here before we could explain. He skipped the interrogations and went right into attending us.

The other knight went inside the small guardhouse with Fran’s adventurer card. There must’ve been a device to check its authenticity inside, because he soon returned and gave it back respectfully.

“Thank you for waiting. Please, right this way. He will show you inside.”

They were treating her like a guest of honor, although I couldn’t help but feel the formality hid something in his voice.

I knew Fran wouldn’t be able to keep her manners up for long. If perfect etiquette was expected of her, we would leave. Fran and Jet couldn’t stand it.

We followed the young knight inside. There was quite some distance between the gates and the actual manor itself. I suppose most guests arrived in a carriage. They didn’t expect that someone would actually get here on foot. We passed the garden, roughly three hundred meters of it, before finally coming into full view of the manor.

Unlike the front gates, which were built to deter robbers, the manor was magnificently elegant. It looked like those mansions I always imagined European Tudors would have lived in.

Several people were waiting for us out front, probably the butler and the maids of this place.

“Fran the Adventurer, I presume?”

“Hm.”

“I am Sebastian, the butler of this manor. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Oh my God, did he say his name was Sebastian? I couldn’t believe it. The cats would be named Tama, the dogs Pochi, and here was Sebastian the butler himself! In the flesh! This world kept getting better and better…

Sadly, Fran did not share my sentiments. She didn’t see the big deal, and unceremoniously allowed him to show her in. If only she knew…

It was a fateful meeting regardless, and I had the Count of Bulbola to thank for that.

As I was lost in my little dream world, he led Fran into what looked like a waiting room.

“Fran, you’re here!”

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

Fult and Satya were already there. The stone-faced chamberlain, Sellid, was also there, along with the three orphans the prince had taken in. They had changed out of the rags they’d worn in Seedrun and looked more like nobles than street urchins, though you could still tell who they were when they spoke. They each waved at Fran.

A well-built man sat beside them. He wasn’t as impeccably dressed as the prince and princess but still looked like a noble, though I’d never seen a highborn with such military bearing. He looked like he’d be more at home on the front lines than hiding behind his troops.

“I am Marquis Rhodus Christon, Count of Bulbola.”

“Hm. Fran. Adventurer.” Fran didn’t offer her hand, but bowed.

The marquis seemed arrogant, but I supposed that came with the territory. He did not return her bow. Christon was of high status and not required to lower himself to an adventurer. However, I sensed no ill will. He was just used to his position. He did what was natural to him without looking down on Fran.

“We are honored to welcome a guest of our highnesses here. Please, feel free to stay at our abode for as long as you are in Bulbola.”

“All right.”

The marquis seemed magnanimous, too. He wasn’t the slightest bit upset at Fran’s lack of court etiquette. He’d correctly deduced that showing Fran some hospitality was the best way to get into Fult’s graces.

The prince regaled the Count with the tale of their encounter with illegal slavers in Seedrun and how a Raydossian said they had ties with a slaving ring in Bulbola. Then he asked the Count to apprehend these slavers.

Some espionage would be required, so it’d be difficult for the marquis to make his move right away, but it seemed that the local Knight Brigade was already on it.

“It’s going to be tough.”

The prince had used his clout as a member of the royal family to meet the Marquis Christon. But this was our chance to run down those slavers, so the least we could do was cheer Fult and Satya on.

Fran showed them the flyer and announced that she was going to be taking part in the contest.

“I see. Bulbola’s cooking contest is famous throughout the realms.”

“I believe one of the winners is actually employed in our royal palace back home. Is that right, Sellid?”

“Indeed. I believe the head chef won the contest ten years ago.”

So it was true that the winner had a chance at working for royalty.

“So, how do you plan on beating these seasoned veterans of the culinary world?” Fult asked with a worried look. 

Satya said nothing but looked equally troubled. It was testament to how difficult this would be, but Fran was unwavering in her confidence.

“We’re going to win by presenting curry.”

“Curry? Is that the dish you gave us back in Seedrun?”

“Yeah.”

“That was delicious, indeed. I think you could go far with it.”

“Far isn’t good enough. We plan to go all the way to victory.”

“I see. In that case, you have our support.”

“Good luck, Fran.”

Sebastian interrupted, excusing himself for cutting into our conversation and telling us dinner was served.

I thought Fran and the other children would be expected to be on their best behavior, but dinner turned out to be quite relaxed. Marquis Christon never reprimanded the kids for their lack of etiquette. Fult and Satya had likely informed him that this particular friend wasn’t comfortable with formalities.

Not to say the marquis was chummy with the other children, of course. But he left them to their own devices as he conversed with the royal twins.

“I was going to introduce you to my sons, but it would seem that they are running late. I apologize on their behalf.”

“I’ve heard about your sons. Your eldest, in particular, is famed for being a gentleman,” Sellid replied. 

Reading between the lines, he was saying, “You have the esteemed prince and princess of Phyllius in your presence, and they’re running late, you say? What could possibly be more important than this?!”

“My apologies,” the marquis replied. “They were all present yesterday, but they’re occupied by the Festival of the Moons. Things are getting more hectic as we close in on the festival, and the committee must stay on site to oversee preparations. Phillip is among them as the head of the Knight Brigade.”

The marquis was smiling, but his words actually implied, “Well, if you had come here yesterday as scheduled, everyone would’ve been here to greet you. It’s your own damn fault for being late. We’re busy enough this time of year without you around to add to our obligations. The captain of the Knight Brigade has no time to waste on pleasantries, so don’t think everything will go according to your precious itinerary.”

But such were conversations among the high and mighty, always wrapped in double meaning and sarcasm. The nobles here were just as roundabout as the politicians back home.

Still, I was surprised that Sellid, usually tone-deaf in social situations, could engage a noble with such eloquence. Then again, he was always trying to exult the prince and princess, so perhaps he was only feigning tone-deafness. Given his position as chamberlain, it was only natural that he’d have some oratory skills.

“So your eldest is the captain of the Knight Brigade?”

“Yes. Fights have been breaking out in the slum district, and the lad has been swamped with work.”

“My goodness, how unfortunate. Well, just let him know that he is free to come and greet us at his leisure,” the prince said nonchalantly. Sellid’s hard work seemed to have escaped his notice.

“Thank you, Your Highness. Crime rates tend to go up this time of year, you know.”

“Do they, really?”

“Yes. Most of them are intent on stealing from the tourists who’ve come for the festival.”

Of course. The increase of human traffic inside the city walls made Bulbola a paradise for pickpockets and robbers.

The marquis continued bragging about his sons. In addition to Phillip, the captain of the Knight Brigade, there was Brook, the second son and manager of a fairly large trade association. He was even part of the upper echelons of the Merchant’s Guild, making him even busier than his elder brother. Surprisingly, his third son, Waint, was a chef.

When the marquis mentioned that his son was taking part in the cooking contest, Fran took out the flyer.

“This one?”

“Yes. Are you participating as well?”

“Hm.”

“I see. Best of luck to you.” The marquis couldn’t be less interested. “I keep telling that boy to stop such foolishness and assist his brothers, but he just won’t listen.”

He even called it “foolishness” when a participant was sitting right in front of him! Although, I could understand how a noble of his stature saw being a chef as frivolous.

The marquis wasn’t a bad man, but he was definitely insensitive and seemed to enforce his view of the world on everyone around him. He indulged Fran, since she was a lowborn, but he seemed to think that being a chef was unbecoming for his son. I supposed his discrimination worked on a subconscious level since he expected everyone to see his reasoning.

No need to pout, Fran. This guy doesn’t mean anything by it.

But still…

I couldn’t have Fran arguing with the local count. I had to convince her.

You can prove him wrong with our cooking.

Hm. True.

Right? We’ll make the most delicious plate of food, and let him have it.

Okay. We’ll make curry so good he’ll have to bow down and cry.

I was glad that Fran was the quiet type. Although her talk of making the Count bow down suggested that she was still lacking common sense…

After dinner, she was led to her quarters—a guest room so grand it looked like a five-star hotel. We wouldn’t have minded sleeping in the staff quarters, but they wouldn’t let an honored guest of the Phyllian royal family stay in such paltry accommodations.

“If you need anything, ring that bell and one of our maids will attend you.”

This place is huge…and fancy, too.

“Oooh, so fluffy.”

“Woof!”

Unable to resist, Fran dove into the canopy bed right in the middle of Sebastian’s explanation.

Stop jumping on the bed!

I’d told her over and over, but she just kept doing it! The marquis’ bed looked like it cost a small fortune, and there was no way we would be able to pay if she broke it. What was the point of all these detailed carvings on the bedposts? Silver shafts glistened atop fine linen sheets.

I’ll let you off the hook this time, Fran. But Jet, the bed is off limits for you tonight.

“Arf…”

Those puppy dog eyes won’t work on me today! No means no!

Knowing that their appeals were falling on deaf ears, Fran and Jet turned to Sebastian. 

“Can Jet sleep in bed with me, please?”

“Woof…”

Jet gave the butler his most pathetic whine as he rubbed against Sebastian’s leg.

“B-but of course. We have as many changes of sheets as you may require, so use it to your heart’s content.”

“Thanks.”

“Arf!”

Well, I guess if the head butler said it was okay…

Just don’t mess the room up too much, all right?

We won’t.

“Woof, woof!”

Fran and Jet carried on exploring the room after Sebastian left, pulling out drawers and peeking into the fireplace.

Don’t break it, now.

“Hmm.”

I began my preparations for the cooking contest. I would start by testing some of the food we’d brought from the Dragonhead. I produced a clone of myself and started with the soup.

“Hmmm.”

It was delicious. Even my clone, with his blunted sense of taste, could tell. I wouldn’t be able to beat this if I just threw a pot of curry together and called it a meal. I’d have to prepare several flavors of curry bread and find a unique way of selling them.

We should go to the Adventurers’ Guild to research the Haunt.

Crystal Cage would be our first Haunt, so we couldn’t afford to be sloppy.

We told Sebastian we were going out, and he let us know we could reenter the mansion quickly using the staff entrance. It made sense that the help didn’t have to go through the massive front garden whenever they left the estate.

There’s a lot of people tonight.

The noble district was quiet, but as we headed downtown, more and more people crowded the streets.

“A lot of food stalls, too.”

“Woof!”

It was the eve of the Festival of the Moons, and people were already celebrating, drinking, and dancing about the streets.

The inhabitants of the towns we’d visited so far retired to their homes when night fell, leaving only merchants and adventurers roaming the streets. The sight of a crowd drinking outside on the eve of a festival was new to me. It reminded me of Earth.

We have plenty of time to eat later. Let’s get to the Adventurers’ Guild.

“Munch, munch. Okay.”

One day later.

We spent the night preparing for our excursion and prepared to leave the mansion at daybreak.

Having done our research the night before, we were well equipped to deal with whatever the Haunt could throw at us. Fran had been asleep most of the time… Still, I had most of the information in my head, so we would be all right.

Would’ve been a lot easier if there weren’t anyone else using the library…

I had to manipulate Fran’s sleeping body with Telekinesis the entire time I was researching. Despite it being so late, there were others still using the library. I supposed it was par for the course in a big city guild. The biggest challenge of the night was extracting books from the bookshelves using Fran’s body.

It was just like her to sleep in a library.

I was controlling her on this fine morning as well, given she was still half-asleep. I moved her barely conscious body to hold on to Jet, and let him drag her. I thought it made for a good party trick.

As we walked through the morning bustle, the scent of freshly cooked food soon woke Fran up. The Festival of the Moons was in full swing, and most of the shops and food stalls were still open from last night.

“Hm. I think I’ll have some soup.”

Sure. Don’t forget to get some for Jet, too.

“Yeah.”

Fran ordered a clear fish soup, tailored for people who were hungover.

She placed two orders and paid the lady at the stall, receiving soup-filled paper bowls in return. The fact that she could get paper utensils at a random food stall showed how advanced Bulbola was.

Fran set Jet’s bowl down in front of him.

“It looks good.”

“Woof, woof!”

Fran’s eyes were sparkling with hungry anticipation when it happened.

“Woaaargh! Move it, move it, outta the way!”

“Kyaa!”

A ragged-looking man let out a scream as he bumped into a girl, who bumped into Fran in turn.

“…”

“Oh no! I’m so sorry.”

“Hm…”

Fran looked at her bowl as it rolled over the pavement, its delicious contents splattered all over the ground. Her sharp eyes darted to the rampaging man as he disappeared into the distance.

“You okay, honey?” asked the shopkeeper.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I dropped it.”

“That’s all right. Did you burn yourself?”

“No. Thanks for asking.”

Fran bowed to the worried shopkeeper and left. She was serious now. Her lithe body slipped through the crowd, intent on stopping the man in his tracks.

“Hold it.”

“You shut up! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you dead!”

Lack of manners wasn’t the guy’s most immediate problem. His eyes were bloodshot, his speech slurred. He looked like he was on some sort of drug.

He showed no signs of stopping, so Fran tripped him up. The man flew into a tailspin and rolled a couple feet into the road. 

Fran, I know you were upset about him wasting food, but don’t you think that’s a little bit much? 

But even that wasn’t enough to quell Fran’s anger.

She healed the man as he lay twitching on the pavement, then grabbed him by the collar and stood him up.

“You’ve committed a great crime.”

“Bwuh?”

“An absolute atrocity.”

No, he hasn’t. All of this could’ve been settled by asking the guy to pay for your soup.

“Shut up! Leggo of me! Aaargh!”

Something was off about him, but his maniacal strength was still no match for Fran. She soon stopped him squirming about.

You’ve caught him, but what now?

I’ll show him hell.

As Fran made her intentions clear, the city guards caught up to the commotion. I overheard their conversation as Fran handed the man over.

“Another one from the slums?”

“There sure are a lot of them this year. Some crazy drug must be making the rounds.”

“Sure looks like it.”

Marquis Christon had mentioned bouts of unrest in the slums. This man was one of its inhabitants.

Come on, stop glaring at him. We need to go.

“Hm…”

Oh, stop sulking. I’m sure he’ll face his fair share of discipline.

All right.

She wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but we couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Today was the first day of the Festival of the Moons. Rituals would be performed tonight, and I wanted to return from the Haunt by then. We made our way to the city gates, stopping by the odd food stall here and there, and eventually left Bulbola.

Okay, we’re going to have double time it from here. Jet, we’re counting on you.

“Awooo!”

It took a day to reach the Haunt on horseback, but we could make the trip in three hours if Jet was at full speed. There was also a clear path made by many adventurers before us, so we had no fear of getting lost.

“Come on, Jet!”

“Woof, woof!”

Three hours later.

We’re right on schedule.

“This is the Haunt?”

A wooded sea of looming trees stood before us. We could hear the sounds and auras of various monsters even from here.

Yep. Crystal Cage, B-Class Haunt.

“I can sense a lot of monsters.”

“Woof.”

Fran and Jet’s expressions tightened in agreement.

So here’s the plan. We’re shooting for the middle section of the woods. Once there, we’ll hunt only the monsters we can eat. A monster’s mana reserve was no indicator of whether its meat was edible.

“Hm. Time to stockpile some meat.”

“Arf, arf.”

We didn’t have much time, so we would only look for the monsters we needed. According to the books at the Adventurers’ Guild, they generally lived in the middle of the forest.

With Fran on his back, Jet used Air Hop to leap over the woods. The plan was for him to jump all the way to the middle of the forest to minimize the risk of getting lost. As much as I wanted to hunt near the entrance, time was of the essence.

“Is that the Crystal Tree?”

Fran spotted the Haunt’s namesake from Jet’s back: an imposing crystalline tree three thousand meters tall. Its transparent trunk shone beautifully with sunlight and its own radiating mana.

It was a divine wonder. I had never seen anything like it.

They say that magic tree’s over three thousand years old.

The Crystal Tree radiated a certain kind of mana which attracted herbivorous monsters. These monsters feasted on the tree and offered it protection in return. In effect, the strange plant used monsters as its defense, which wasn’t to say that herbivores were the only ones there. Their presence attracted carnivorous predators in turn, making the Crystal Cage a thriving ecosystem for all sorts of creatures.

This was the world’s greatest crystal tree. The larger they grew, the more mana they contained and the stronger the monsters it attracted. I could only imagine the beasts that made their home around this three-thousand-year-old specimen. You could say that this tree had single-handedly created the entire Crystal Cage.

“Wow.”

“Woof.”

Fran and Jet were just as impressed. Their eyes glowed with wonder as they took in its beauty. I’d never seen such childlike wonder on Fran’s face. That alone was worth the trip.

Tiny birdlike creatures flew about the tree. They looked minuscule against the giant crystal tree behind them, but they must’ve had at least a five meter wingspan. I made a note to avoid them if at all possible.

Careful, now. The closer we get to that tree, the more likely we are to run into high-threat monsters.

“I know.”

We’re almost to our destination. See any quarry, Fran?

“Hm… What about that one?” Fran had seen a large pig monster bathing in some mud.

Good eye. Jet, land us over there.

“Bark!”

All right, let’s take it down in one.

“Will do.”

“Woof, woof!”

Jet targeted the closest monster and descended on it like a hawk, maw first. Fran jumped off his back and cut another one to pieces.

“Oink!”

“Jet, over there.”

“Grrr!”

It didn’t take long for us to kill five of the F-Threat Swamp Pigs. These monsters lived in the marsh and had hard shells on their backs. We were thrilled to have completed our first successful hunt, but if I was being honest, these swamp swine weren’t worth much.

As far as taste was concerned, Swamp Pork didn’t taste bad. In fact, it was quite delicious. However, it wasn’t quite as tasty as specially bred pork, which was usually raised in particular conditions, and it took time to get the swamp stink out of the meat. They were known as the Novice Adventurer’s Piggy Bank, since beginners usually hunted them for money.

Impressive as they were, these were not the pig monsters we were looking for. We stored them away anyway, just in case we couldn’t find our main quarry.

Time to look for more monsters, Jet.

“Arf!”

“Should we go deeper?”

Yeah, let’s get closer to the Crystal Tree. I think we’re still too close to the entrance.

Swamp Pigs were usually found roaming at the edges of Crystal Cage. The fact that we’d run into an entire drift of them indicated we were not far enough in.

We advanced into the forest for an hour until we finally found a boar to our liking.

Our expedition had been a pain in the hilt so far. All we wanted was monster pork and beef, yet we’d run into creatures that were inedible at best.

“So does this guy taste good?”

Yep. Boar. Large tusks. Golden mane. That’s our boy.

Gullinbursti, a D-Threat monster named after the mythical boar with a similar golden mane. That mane could deflect a certain amount of magic, and its tusks could fell a tree in a single charge. The Gullinbursti was even aggressive enough to attack creatures stronger than itself. People called it the Mad Boar for its tenacity and seeming inability to do anything other than charge forward.

For all its pugnacity however, its flesh was surprisingly soft, and its fat delectable. The Adventurers’ Guild would often post hunting quests for the Gullinbursti, and its meat was popular throughout Bulbola. Fortunately for us, this pig monster was huge, over five meters long—easily three times bigger than Jet.

Don’t go too crazy on the offense. We want to preserve as much meat as possible.

“Got it.”

Jet, you slow it down.

“Grrrr!”

If we wounded it, it would bleed. The more it bled, the more flavor the meat would lose. The texture would suffer as well, becoming too tough to eat. We had to kill it with as few blows as possible. One strike through its crystal was the ideal…but Telekinetic Catapult was out of the question. Even if I could kill it, I’d explode the entire Gullinbursti into mincemeat.

“Oink!”

Watch out, Fran!

As I was considering our options, the golden boar charged. The pig was faster than I expected. It was bearing down on us before I noticed. I tried slowing it down with Telekinesis but to no avail. The creature was a lump of pure strength.

“Urgh!”

Fran! You okay? 

“More or less…”

The boar’s charge only grazed her, but it was enough to fling her ten meters away. The beast was a force to be reckoned with. Fran regained her footing with a well-placed Air Hop and dropped into her battle stance.

The Gullinbursti continued its charge, felling trees that could have served as shrine pillars back on Earth, and disappeared into the forest.

However, Jet had its scent, so we were in no danger of losing the trail. This was the perfect time to set a trap.

I’ll dig a hole with Earth Magic. Jet, you lure him over. Our trap won’t hold him for long, but we only need a few seconds for Fran to take him down.

“Got it.”

“Woof.”

I created a large underground sinkhole with Earth Magic. If anything heavy got on top of it, the crust would give way. It was the perfect pitfall for our pig friend.

A few minutes later, Jet reappeared with the Gullinbursti hot on his tail. He strutted in front of the giant boar as if challenging it. Jet had even shape-shifted to his smaller size to increase his cheekiness.

“Arf!”

“Oink!”

Steam gushed out of the Gullinbursti’s huge nostrils. It charged at the tiny wolf, intent on crushing it, and felled many trees along the way. The momentum reminded me of a truck, and the boar soon paid for it. Its golden-furred leg sank into the ground, leaving half of its body exposed.

“Oink?!”

My pitfall worked perfectly.

Now, Fran!

“Hm!”

Fran leapt towards the golden boar. 

“Where’s this thing’s crystal?”

It should be right at its heart.

“Hm!”

I Transmogrified myself into a long and slender blade, more able to reach the creature’s heart with one strike. In effect, I’d taken on the form of an estoc.

“Haaaa!”

“Oiiinkkk!”

Fran used an underhand grip and plunged me right into the beast.

“There!”

She used a Level 8 Sword Art, Pinpoint Stab, and thrust me right through the boar’s back. The skill concentrated all of her energy in the point of my blade, and I had little trouble penetrating the beast’s golden mane and musculature. I felt myself pierce its heart and crystal. The blow had barely bruised the Gullinbursti. The perfect end to our hunt.

We did it!

“Hm. That’s a lot of meat.”

It sure is. That’s our pork supply settled.

The giant boar provided us with more than enough pork for the contest. We stored it away for now. As much as we would’ve loved to take it apart, the scent of its blood would attract nearby monsters. We’d have to skin and prepare it at the Adventurers’ Guild.

Let’s move on!

“Hm.”

“Woof!”

We hunted monsters for the next two hours.

First was the Apis, a crafty white cow monster that could use Healing Magic. We hunted two of those. Somehow, we also killed five Gullinkambi and golden bird monsters that whizzed through the trees at blinding speeds with beaks that pierced metal. Finding their nest, we took eight of their golden eggs—each bigger than the largest ostrich egg on Earth. It was a great haul.

But the monsters here were tough, and we were pretty spent after the hunt. Although the Haunt’s encounter rate wasn’t as high as a Dungeon, staying here for extended periods of time was still a bad idea. Now that we’d finished our business, we should head home.

But before we could, a strange feeling came over the forest. The local monsters started to get agitated. The weaker ones in particular looked tense, as if they were terrified of something swooping down from above. The air became heavy, and even Jet looked restless.

Still, even when I used Being Sense, I couldn’t figure out the source of this agitation. Was it just me?

Soon, the source of terror revealed itself.

KABOOM!

“Huh?”

Whoa! What is that mana signature?

“Bark…”

Thunder rumbled through the Haunt as an immense mana signature emerged from near the crystal tree. It was so strong that I could feel it from all the way out here.

“Teacher, over there.”

Looks like some flying monsters.

A gigantic bird flew out of the crystal tree. It sparkled with a bluish white light. I couldn’t cast Identify on it from here, but one look was enough to remind me what it was.

It’s a Thunderbird, and there’s three Storm Eagles around it.

The Thunderbird was a B-Threat monster, while the Storm Eagles were D-Threats. The encyclopedia I read at the Adventurers’ Guild warned us about the Thunderbird, saying we should steer clear of its electric attacks. Its unrivaled speed made it the ruler of the Crystal Cage.

But the strange mana signature I sensed didn’t belong to the Thunderbird.

“Is someone fighting it?”

A figure jumped through the sky and clashed with the flock. This was the source of mana. We were quite a distance away from it, but the mana still reverberated here.

The aura belonged to a person. Somehow, they’d managed to trip my Danger Sense and Being Sense despite the great distance. I couldn’t make out the figure’s face, but their hair was done in a topknot and they were outfitted with dark blue equipment.

They fought the Thunderbird alone. I would’ve called it reckless if it didn’t look like they were winning.

“It’s starting.”

“Woof.”

Lightning streamed out of the Thunderbird’s beak. Megawatts of electricity lit up the forest, and thunderous rumbling echoed through the trees. The shadow easily dodged out of the way.

The attack would have been a killing blow for us, but it was likely no more than an opening feint to the Thunderbird. Its flock charged through the electricity, heading for the figure.

The bird’s speed must be imperceptible at close range. We could only see it move because we were watching the fight from such a distance.

In a show of superhuman reflexes, the figure dodged again.

Now I understood why the Thunderbird was an object of fear for the forest’s inhabitants. Flightless creatures were helpless in the face of its lightning and its speed. Even if a creature could move as fast, it still had to worry about the lightning.

Although it was the same threat level as the Daemon we’d faced, I didn’t think we stood a chance. Unlike the dungeon Daemon, the Thunderbird was unfettered and had access to all its abilities. Not to mention the Storm Eagles that served as its vanguard.

All of which made me wonder about this lone figure.

None of the birds’ attacks even grazed them, although the streams of electricity seemed to split the sky itself. In fact, it looked like the figure was baiting the flock to attack.

The eagles circled around the stranger in an effort to regroup, and the figure went on the offensive, eager to exploit the opening. Their counterattack was the beginning and end of this encounter.

“So many swords.”

Magic? Or is it a Skill?

The figure thrust out their hand and summoned a large number of swords all around them. The swords appeared so quickly, it was like they teleported into existence. I wasn’t sure if the figure had summoned them or if they were just manifestations. Each sword emitted great amounts of mana, and Identifying them revealed that each was as strong as an enchanted weapon.

The swords launched at the electric birds all at once.

Although they were slower than my Telekinetic Catapult, the sheer number of them overwhelmed the Thunderbird’s flock. There must’ve been about a hundred blades altogether, and they didn’t just fling themselves towards their targets, either. Instead, they fluttered about with the precision of a choreographed dance, leaving the birds no room for escape.

Enclosed in a cage of swords, the monsters fell one by one.

Even the Thunderbird, who struggled until the bitter end, had holes in its wings from the storm of swords. A greatsword dealt the killing blow, stabbing the Thunderbird in the neck. With that, the great lightning bird fell out of the sky in a tailspin.

“Wow.”

Yeah. Let’s try not to run into either of those things.

We didn’t know the stranger’s intentions. What if they were a bandit? They just beat a Thunderbird, a foe we had little chance of defeating, in an instant. I didn’t want to make an enemy of them if at all possible.

The figure disappeared towards the crystal tree, probably to claim their spoils.

We already got what we came for. Let’s pack up and head home.

“Hm.”

“Woof.”

We left the Crystal Cage, feeling as though we’d escaped the mysterious figure, and made our way back to Bulbola. We still needed to prepare the monster meat for our curry.

“Teacher, there’s a lot of people over there.”

Maybe they’re adventurers guarding a caravan.

“But something seems…off.”

We found the caravan on the highway, five carriages in total. Today was the first day of the Festival of the Moons, and we were about an hour from Bulbola. They were probably visitors from nearby villages heading over to take part in the festival. Fran was right, though. They were acting strange.

The caravan had stopped, and I could hear pained cries coming from their direction. Upon closer inspection, the leading carriage was riddled with arrows.

I think they’re being robbed.

The men surrounding the caravan were dressed rather crudely and didn’t look like your usual bodyguards. Plus, their swords were pointed towards the caravan rather than away from it. The bandits had even succeeded in destroying the lead carriage’s wheels.

“We have to help them!”

Step on it, Jet!

“Woof!”

As we dropped in from the air, we saw some female adventurers defending the caravan from the bandits.

“Don’t rough ’em up too badly, now! We can make a small fortune selling these ladies!”

“Hya ha ha! You got it!”

“I can’t wait to sample them!”

The bandits’ words sharpened Fran’s glare. They sounded like slavers, and that marked them as her mortal enemies.

“Hang in there, you two!”

“If we let up now, they’ll get to the villagers.”

“We’ll protect them with our lives!”

The women were putting their lives on the line to protect the passengers. They showed no desire to escape, even if it meant death. I liked them. They had guts.

“Come on!”

Okay. Now, which one is the leader… I think it’s that one.

A large man stood behind the raiding party, barking out orders. He was better equipped than the rest, and his stats were higher, too. He must be their leader.

“Haaa!”

“Gyaa!”

Fran jumped off Jet’s back and struck the bandit captain, knocking him unconscious. We wanted information, and this guy was our best bet.

“The rest can die.”

“Grrr!”

Faster than the eye could follow, Fran beheaded bandits.

“Huh?”

“Who’s there?!”

“A kid?!”

Both bandits and bodyguards were equally confused. However, Fran and Jet didn’t slow down until all the robbers were dead. Fran took down the ones at the back of the caravan while Jet took care of the front. The remaining stragglers were quickly dispatched with a liberal application of Flame Magic, leaving the leader as the sole survivor.

“Are you okay?” Fran asked the bewildered adventurers.

“…”

Barely two minutes had elapsed since we arrived, and the marauders were all but obliterated. It wasn’t surprising that this hadn’t really sunk in yet.

“Area Heal.”

They seemed hurt, so it made sense to heal them. With their bodies recovered, their wits soon returned.

“Healing Magic?”

“Thanks!”

“I thought we were goners…”

The three adventurers looked relieved, but it didn’t take long for them to put their professional facade back on. They were still on duty and couldn’t let their guard down.

The adventurers took turns shaking Fran’s hand. Afraid as they were of her and Jet, their fears were overwhelmed by gratitude.

“We’re an adventuring party, the Crimson Maidens. You really saved us back there.”

“I’m Fran, D-Rank Adventurer.”

“D-Rank at your age? That’s amazing! I knew you were something special when I saw you fight.”

Some of the villagers got out of the caravan and reeled at the sight of the dead bandits. The scene might have been a tad intense for ordinary townsfolk. Their bodyguards explained how Fran had saved their lives, and the villagers bowed their heads in gratitude. Some of them even sobbed in relief. They must’ve been terrified by the prospect of being captured. Then again, it was equally possible that the sorry state of the bandits’ bodies might have scared them to tears.

Saving them wasn’t our only goal, of course.

“Hey.”

“Grrr.”

Fran healed the bandit leader and hit him again, signaling the beginning of his torture.

“Eaaagh! I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Just spare my life!”

“Answer my questions, and I won’t kill you.”

“Okay! Just don’t kill me, please!”

Fran’s frosty voice and Jet’s menacing growls must’ve scared him witless. Or maybe he caught a glimpse of what was left of his friends. Either way, he frantically told us exactly how many men he had and how to find their hideout. He also revealed that the bandits had already captured some innocent people. They were alive, though not well, and he’d planned to sneak into Bulbola where he could sell them as slaves.

Fran was intent on foiling those plans. It wasn’t that she had a strong sense of justice but that she hated slavers.

As we neared the end of the torture, the village mayor approached.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Raid their hideout, of course.”

“I-I see…”

Someone would have to stand guard while the caravan made repairs. Returning to find it annihilated would leave a bad taste in my mouth, so we left Jet behind as insurance. He should suffice until the carriages were fixed.

“I’m going to the hideout to save the captives,” said Fran. “When I do, I want you to let them join the caravan. In exchange, I’ll leave Jet here with you.”

Alone, we had no way of getting the captives home, even if we could save them. We were going to need their help.

“So you’re leaving behind this wolf…”

The mayor looked decidedly worried. He probably wanted Fran to stay behind. But he forced a smile and bowed gratefully, realizing that he was in no position to look a gift direwolf in the mouth.

“Then we are in your care.”

“Look after them, Jet.”

“Woof!”

There was still a hint of worry on the mayor’s face, but they would be safe for now.

Let’s get going.

“Hm. Walk.”

“All right, all right! No need to yank my chain.”

With the bandit leader’s guidance, we soon reached their hideout. It was a good fifteen minutes away, but the walk was uneventful. The place was located in a cave at the foot of a mountain. It had the look and feel of a hideout, to be sure.

Surprisingly, the entrance was concealed with magic. Despite our detection skills, it would have been hard to find if the bandit leader hadn’t revealed it to us. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill band of bandits then.

With that in mind, we carefully entered the hideout. It was quite fortified, despite looking like an ordinary cave from the outside. There were over twenty men left, and they put up one hell of a fight. We couldn’t let our guard down thanks to all the arrows that were flying about.

The bandits themselves were strong. Some of them could use Sword Arts, and they even had mages among their ranks. They were more like an organized unit of mercenaries than a rowdy band of outlaws.

The base was equipped with an emergency exit, as well. The bandit leader showed us where it was, and we promptly blew it up with Flame Magic. Two birds with one stone.

The man who’d been our guide so far wasn’t the boss but only the captain of a smaller unit. The real boss was lazing about in the inner chambers. But I’d gotten used to referring to our captive as the Bandit Leader, so Bandit Leader he would stay. Unfortunately, Bandit Leader died halfway through our raid.

A stray arrow, loosed by one of his men, pierced him in the gut. As our guide, he was taking point, after all. And I suppose we neglected to heal his wounds. His last words were, “I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me?!”

Well, we kept our end of the bargain. Mostly. We couldn’t help it if one of his friends put an end to his life by mistake.

We found seven men locked away in the dungeon. Three of them looked like soldiers, while the remaining four seemed to be civilians. A quick Identify revealed they were adventurers and farmers. Fran broke them out of their cells and shackles. They were captured a few days ago, but thankfully none of them were wasting away just yet.

“You really saved us there.”

“Didn’t think a little girl would be the one to do it, though…”

“Come on, did you see how she blew up our cell? She’s way stronger than us!”

The adventurers weren’t a party, but they’d become acquainted with each other during their imprisonment. However, the farmers all came from the same village and knew each other well. They were on their way to Bulbola when the bandits attacked. Such was the risk of travelling without an escort, not that they had money to hire one.

“There were a lot of bandits out there. Did you run into the raiding party?”

“Yeah. All dead now.”

“Uh. By ‘all’ do you mean all?”

“Of course.”

“I can’t sense their auras. She must be telling the truth.”

“Damn, I knew you were strong, but this is a bit much to take… The bandits here were pretty strong too, you know.”

I knew they weren’t ordinary raiders. The Bulbolan adventurers told us about a gang of bandits, fifty strong. They seemed to have popped up out of nowhere, and I suspected they were a splinter cell of a larger band of mercenaries.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Hm? I’ve settled my business, so I’m heading back.”

“You have friends out there?”

“I wouldn’t call them friends, but there are people waiting for me.”

“Okay, so you have backup with you. I think this gang stored up quite a hoard for themselves…”

“Hm?”

One of the adventurers explained. In the event anyone succeeded in eliminating the bandits, they had full rights to whatever treasure and goods the bandits had collected. Unfortunately for the captives, their belongings were now part of the bandit hoard.

We brought them with us and found an underground storeroom. There wasn’t any treasure, but we did find weapons, food, and clothing. You could make a fair bit of money by selling it all.

In the pile, we found what we were looking for, stored in a bag that stopped its contents from deteriorating. Cure Turmeric, which looked like ordinary tree root. Despite appearances, the plant possessed magical properties. Properly processed, it could cure any status ailment and was a highly sought-after cooking spice. And there was a lot of it in the bag.

Now, this is a great find!

With my Cooking skill, I could tell at a glance what kind of flavor it would produce. It’d taste similar to the turmeric I knew on Earth and would add a significant amount of depth and richness to our curry. At the moment, the flavor of this stuff was much more important than its healing properties. We’d really lucked out. Fran tucked it away, with apologies to the original owner and promises to make one hell of a curry.

As we counted our lucky stars, the adventurers started talking. Their equipment was in this pile of stolen goods, and they wanted to ask Fran if they could have them back.

The oldest adventurer spoke up first.

“So, uh…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“What’s up?”

“Well, the bandits stripped us of our equipment when they captured us, you see. And we’re pretty sure it’s in this pile of stuff. I don’t suppose we could have it back?”

“W-we’ll pay you, of course. We’ll carry your haul.”

“Hell, the three of us should be able to get at least half of this stuff back to town.”

The men knew that Fran couldn’t carry her spoils alone, no matter how strong she was. They offered to be her pack mules in exchange for their gear.

“So, how about it—what?”

“Hm?”

Fran, the nice adventurers are still talking! At least wait until they’re finished before you start packing the spices into the Pocket Dimension!

“Space-time magic… I figured.”

“Don’t know what I was expecting really…”

“I guess you have no need for us…”

The adventurers were crestfallen at their obsolescence.

Teacher, do you mind if I give them back their stuff?

Oh, I guess you were listening. Sure, I don’t see why not.

I didn’t sense any weapons with huge amounts of mana in the pile, anyway. I didn’t think adventurers with enchanted equipment would’ve been done in by a gang of bandits to begin with.

“Just take your stuff if it’s still there.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Sure. I don’t need them, anyway. There’s still something I want you to do, though.”

“S-sure. Just say the word!”

“We’ll be taking part in the cooking contest. I want you all to come to our stall and tell everyone you know about it. Promise me that, and you can have your gear.”

“Is that all? We’d love to!”

“We’ll buy your entire stock! Well, as long as it’s not crazy expensive.”

“We’ll shill for you, sure!”

The adventurers and farmers thanked Fran again. They didn’t expect to get their equipment back for just promoting her food stall. As we stored away the remainder of the hoard, the scout-class adventurer began tapping the walls.

“Say, I think there’s another room.”

It seemed the bandits had a hidden chamber. The adventurer groped along the walls, looking for an entrance. Fran wasn’t so patient.

“Move.”

“O-okay. I can’t seem to find a door, so—”

Boom!

Fran knocked down the wall with her Advanced Sword Art. The adventurers stood there stunned as she punched through solid rock, reminded of the difference in strength between them.

And here’s our treasure trove.

While it was no dragon’s hoard, there was still a decent amount of gold and silver. The hidden room also held a heavy metal box, important enough to be stowed away in secret. When we opened it, we found a single glass bottle filled with mysterious fluid. It looked like your run-of-the-mill potion, but I was sure that it was something more. I sensed great mana in that bottle, and the inside of the box was cushioned so it wouldn’t break.

Let’s Identify it.

However, my Identify failed. I could only learn its name: Soul Essence. I didn’t know what it was for, but the fact that it was sealed with magic scared me. And it was more carefully packed than the rare metals, so it must be valuable. I stowed it in my Pocket Dimension for the time being.

We got what we came for. Let’s get going.

“Hm.”

We were running a little late. We were supposed to be back in Bulbola by now.

The men grew hungry on the way back to the caravan, so Fran handed them skewers and sandwiches to sate their appetite. The farmers received them with tears. They must’ve been distressed by their time in the bandits’ den. Soon, the adventurers joined in—thanking Fran with misty eyes. I knew then that they would keep their end of the bargain.

“They’re back!”

“Over here, you guys!”

Caravan repairs had proceeded smoothly. The bandits’ bodies were tossed in a neat pile, but goblin corpses with bite marks had taken their place around the carriages. It was a good thing we left Jet behind.

“Looks like you’re okay. I didn’t expect the bandits would give you much trouble.”

“Hm. I beat them up, easy. I got a good haul out of it, too.”

“We’re good to go over here. Are those the captives from the hideout?”

“We sure are. Fran here saved us.”

With a quick explanation what went on at the hideout, we prepared to get going. There were five carriages in total, and we managed to fit all of the men onto them, though it was tight.

Fran rode on the lead carriage and guarded the caravan back to Bulbola. She talked about the contest with the other passengers in the meantime and told them about the Black Tail. Our time wasn’t wasted, after all.

An hour passed, and we reached Bulbola without further disturbance. We parted ways with the villagers and made our way to the Adventurers’ Guild. Since we needed to prepare the monster meat from the Crystal Cage, we requested to use the Dismantling Room and were led downstairs to the basement.

This place is bigger than Alessa.

We could carve up even large quarry here. The facilities were much better too, since it was equipped with a magical device that spouted water.

Let’s start with the Gullinbursti.

“Okay.”

I took the golden boar out of the Pocket Dimension.

Let’s drain it of blood first.

“Hm.”

Fresh monster blood could be used as a medical component or food ingredient. I suspended the freshly drained blood with Telekinesis and promptly stored it in the Pocket Dimension. I stored its heart too, despite the fact it was inedible.

“These tusks are huge.”

Apparently, we can get a lot of money for its fur.

We’d hunted the boar mainly for its meat but ended up getting a lot of other materials in the process. We carved the Apis and Gullinkambi up, too. Now, we had enough meat to make pork, beef, and chicken curries, not that we were going to use all of it. Some parts just wouldn’t taste as good.

Now we can sell everything else.

“Hm. Where to, though? Lucille Trade Association?”

Hang on, there’s still something I want to look into.

I needed to know about the potion from the bandits’ hideout. We should be able to find an alchemist in a city this big, but where should we start?

Thirty minutes later, having sold all our leftover materials, Fran and I headed to the third floor of the Adventurers’ Guild. We asked the receptionist where we could find an alchemist, and she told us that the guild employed one just for such an occasion. 

He was pretty good, too. We decided to leave the identification of the mysterious potion in his hands. 

The older elf woman led us to his office and knocked on the door. The nameplate said “Eugene’s Laboratory”. This section seemed to house the biological research facilities. I saw the words “Sickbay” and “Atelier” written on adjourning doors.

“Come in.”

“Excuse us.”

An old man in loose robes was waiting inside. His slicked-back white hair flowed all the way to his back. He had a gentle smile, wise-looking round glasses, and the air of a scholar or researcher. He was lanky, although I wasn’t sure if he was underweight or just tall.

His eyes were strange though. What were supposed to be the whites of his eyes were black as ink, and his irises were emerald green. They had no shine to them either, giving the man an eerie quality. He looked like he had long thin feelers growing out of his hairline, too. 

The alchemist was unsettling to look at. Fortunately for us, the elf lady greeted him like she would anyone else, reducing our shock. If we ran into this guy out on the city streets, we would’ve been on full alert.

“This girl wishes to consult you, Doctor Eugene.”

“Really? This adorable little girl is an adventurer?”

“Hm. D-Rank Adventurer, Fran.”

“And a D-Rank at that? My, aren’t you special.”

Eugene was apparently half-insect. An insectile beastman. At least, half of him was. The eyes and feelers were all he got from his bug heritage. Ordinary insect beastmen must’ve looked more insectoid than human.

He really was a master alchemist though. One quick Identify indicated that he had maxed out his Alchemy skill and its advanced form, Biochemistry. He bore the titles Item Expert, Poison Master, Potion Master, Master Alchemist, and several others.

He invited us to sit down and introduced himself.

“My name is Eugene, an alchemist employed by the Adventurers’ Guild at Bulbola.”

It made me wonder…

“You’re not in the Alchemists’ Guild?”

“Ha ha ha. Indeed. I used to be, but I had to take responsibility for one of my apprentice’s mishaps. I was hired by the Adventurers’ Guild afterwards.”

“Oh, but none of it was your responsibility, Doctor. Your apprentice was already an established alchemist. There was no need for you to step down,” the elf interjected as she served our drinks. 

It sounded like there was a long story behind his employment.

“Perhaps. But the fact remains that he used the knowledge I taught him for evil.”

“I still think your banishment was over the line!”

The anger in the elf’s voice made for a terrible impression of the Alchemists’ Guild. She must’ve really liked him.

“Wouldn’t joining the Adventurers’ Guild make your relationship with the Alchemists’ Guild worse?” Fran asked. The alchemists couldn’t have any fond feelings for an exile who joined another guild so easily.

“It did,” said the elf. “They harassed him every day until their Guildmaster stepped down.”

“That was five years ago. I get along just fine with the current Guildmaster.”

“There are still people who bear a grudge against him, though. Not to mention those alchemists who hate adventurers to begin with.”

The scandal was so huge that the animosity trickled down to Eugene’s former guildmates. Did that extend to the Adventurers’ Guild as well? Surely, strained relations with the alchemists would make getting adventuring supplies more difficult.

“Does the Adventurers’ Guild hate Eugene?”

“Not at all. In fact, many of our members are grateful to him.”

“How come?”

“Thanks to the Doctor’s alchemical skills, we are able to produce our supplies here at the guild itself. He effectively broke the Alchemist Guild’s monopoly on such things. The price war made everything cheaper, and that meant many happy adventurers.”

“You can see why a lot of alchemists would hate me.”

I did. I felt sorry for Eugene’s banishment, but we did get a top-notch alchemist out of it, and we didn’t even have to leave the building. 

“Either way, the old guard at the Alchemists’ Guild is beginning to change. We’ve started cooperating with them again.”

“Yes. However, the new moderates in the Alchemists’ Guild are as lukewarm in their studies as in their grudges. I get the feeling they’re just here to steal the Doctor’s work sometimes.”

The elf left the room after that, still seething with resentment.

“Please, have a drink before we get started.” He offered us a cup of what looked like oolong tea.

“Thanks.” Fran took small sips, her cat’s tongue not allowing anything more.

“My goodness, you’re fine after all that?” Eugene asked with wonder, taking a sip out of his own cup. 

Was it poisoned? It shouldn’t be. My Identify only revealed regular Oboe Tea. Fran hadn’t caught any status ailments, either…

“Well, I love this stuff, you see. Thing is, most of my visitors find it too bitter. They end up spitting it out more often than not. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with your tongue, young lady?”

“No. It’s nice.”

“Well, I’ll be! I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who understands the wonderful flavor of this tea!”

Was it like senburi tea? If so, it must have been an acquired taste.

“It’s bitter, but tasty.”

Fran had a sensitive tongue, able to distinguish fine flavors in the background of bitter and spicy. It allowed her to find the deliciousness in even the oddest of combinations.

“Indeed, indeed! I’m glad I’ve finally found a kindred spirit. Would you like some of the tea leaves, young lady?”

“Please.”

Fran nodded and took the small pouch of tea leaves Eugene produced. He was really excited as he handed it over; happy to find someone who liked his favorite drink.

“So I can make really good tea with this?”

“Actually, there is another secret ingredient. I used Mana Water. Mana-laced water with no particular side effects.”

“So infusing food with mana makes it taste better?”

“You didn’t know? The human tongue has mana-receptive taste buds. That is why monster meat has that extra bit of flavor compared to regular livestock. Mana-infused water is usually used to brew tea and soup.”

“If mana can make all food taste better, why isn’t everyone using it?”

That was a good question. Mana seemed to be the best general purpose seasoning. However, Eugene shook his head.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. There are different types of mana, and the ingredient itself must be infused with mana from the outset. The mana water I use comes from a spring that is naturally infused. Adding mana after the cooking process wouldn’t have the same effect.”

That was unfortunate. And here I thought we’d found a way to give us an edge for the contest.

“Also, it is not good for one to consume too much mana in one’s cooking.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Consuming too much mana causes you to crave it. It can get so bad that it overpowers the other flavors.”

In human terms, it was like someone who always needed to have his food extra spicy or extra sweet. Their taste buds were dulled by the strong flavors. Mana had the same effect.

“Take the Magi, for example. They have a natural sensitivity to mana. They love their food to be drenched with it. Unfortunately, feasting on mana-rich food from an early age leads to a dulling of their tongues. For a Magus, the taste of mana is all that matters. I remember having to eat food cooked by a great magus once. That was the most difficult plate of food I’ve ever had to consume.”

I remembered Jean the necromancer and the food that he served in his laboratory. That was the only time I ever saw Fran not clean her plate. Jean’s tongue must have been dulled that way, too.

I needed to make sure that Fran understood mana wasn’t the crux of cooking but only one of many subtle flavorings. As I renewed my cooking resolve, Fran finished her tea, returned it, and bowed her head.

“Thank you for the tea. It was delicious.”

“Ah, it was my pleasure. Now, what did you come to talk about?”

“I wanted you to take a look at this bottle.”

“Oh?”

Fran took out the metal case and produced the Soul Essence from inside.

Eugene took one look at it and immediately deduced what it was. I expected nothing less from a master alchemist.

“This is Soul Essence. You happened upon a most interesting substance.” Eugene looked surprised as he rested his chin on his hand. Soul Essence must be rare.

“I found it in a bandit’s hideout. What is it for? Is it a magic drug?”

“Not exactly, although it is technically a magical drug…Soul Essence is used in the manufacture of artificial crystal.”

“Artificial crystal?”

“Which, in turn, is used in the creation of familiars. Soul Essence is the base of their crystal. The fact that this one is so difficult to Identify means it has the potential to become a very strong crystal indeed.”

“How much is it worth?”

“Hmm. One hundred thousand at least, one hundred million at most.”

A hundred million? Then that thing was worth a fortune! I guessed the crystal it could produce must be worth at least that much, if not more! Eugene did say that it could produce an immensely strong crystal…

“What kind of crystal will it become? Can you tell?”

“Unfortunately, no. An Identify would usually reveal what crystal it can become, but this Soul Essence seems impervious to it. Which leaves us with consulting the manufacturer…”

Eugene checked the bottle and every nook and cranny of the box.

“I can’t seem to find any documentation… Where was this made?”

“There wasn’t anything else where I found it.”

“I see. Well, I can look into it. It’s going to take some time, however.”

“Can’t you just…turn it into a crystal?”

If so, we could take it from there. But things weren’t that simple.

“The process of converting Soul Essence into crystal requires other materials and magical drugs, all dependent on the potential crystal. We cannot do it until we know what crystal it is meant to become.”

Basically, we couldn’t just wing it. I could have easily absorbed whatever crystal it ended up as, too. We couldn’t think of alternative ways to use it, so I guess this was going to have to sit pretty in our inventory for a while.

“How long will it take to know what Soul Essence this is?”

“Three days at least, ten days at most, I suppose.”

The way Eugene put it, I’d expected the process to take a few months. Fran looked as surprised as I was.

Teacher?

I guess we could give it to him…

Eugene seemed trustworthy, and it wasn’t as if he was going to bolt. If he did, he’d have the entire Bulbolan Adventurers’ Guild on his tail.

“Still…” Eugene said, frowning.

“What is it?”

“This box looks exactly like the ones the Alchemists’ Guild would use, even with its lack of documentation. Its manufacturer must be using the guild’s channels for transportation.”

“But I found it in a bandit’s den.”

“And I believe you… It’s just…”

Something was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. There is something I must ask.”

“Well?”

“You are an adventurer and the one who found this box. It’s only right that you know. When a powerful Soul Essence goes missing, it would usually be a serious incident. The aggrieved party would contact the Adventurers’ Guild and we would post a recovery quest for it.”

“But nothing went up for this?”

“No. Not that I’ve heard. The creation of Soul Essence is regulated by the government, so there is a possibility that whoever lost it is keeping quiet so they don’t draw attention to themselves. I’m not sure what the original purpose of this thing even is. Only the Alchemists’ Guild would know.”

Which didn’t concern us, though we wanted to be kept out of this mess if at all possible.

“Of course. I swear to keep your identity a secret, Fran.”

He wasn’t lying, so we had no choice. The Soul Essence sounded important, and we had every right to be worried about our names getting attached to it.

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“So about the Soul Essence. Can you look into it?”

“Are you sure? It is very valuable, you know.”

“Yeah. I trust you.”

Fran nodded as she looked into Eugene’s bug eyes. The alchemist’s face flushed for a moment, and then he nodded in return. I supposed it wasn’t every day that he gained the trust of a child.

Soon, Eugene regained his professional posture and carefully took the Soul Essence into his hands.

“All right. I’ll take good care of it.”

“Thanks.”

That settled the matter. The true identity of the Soul Essence would be revealed sooner or later. Fran shook Eugene’s hand, and we left his laboratory.

***

“Are you telling me that our plans have gone astray?”

“Someone discovered our base of slaving operations.”

“What? You mean the one with ties to Raydoss?”

“Yes. I don’t know what possessed the Count to do so, but he seems to have ordered the raid himself.”

“The Count? I thought he was in our pocket.”

“I believe he was swayed by the visitors coming for the Festival of the Moons. Our slaving base has been taken over by the Knight Brigade.”

“That’s bad.”

“The materials we had stashed in our hideout have been stolen as well.”

“Even the Cure Turmeric?”

“Yes. It’s all gone.”

“Damn it. Who did it?”

“An adventurer, according to my sources.”

“But those were mercenaries only posing as bandits! Are you telling me a lone adventurer took them all down?”

“They had the misfortune of mugging a high-rank adventurer, I suppose. Our mercenaries were completely wiped out.”

“That’s troubling… Any chance of our plans getting back on track?”

“Our chances are slim… The Cure Turmeric was vital.”

“Can’t we substitute it for something else?”

“No. Not when we’re this pressed for time. Additional research would take too long. Our plans have already been set in motion.”

“Right. We’ll have to make do with our reserves.”

“Indeed. All that’s left is the matter of the ritual.”

“Leave that to me. Preparations might be difficult, but I’ll have it arranged.”

“Please.”

“We will need that girl soon.”

“Right. The girl. Something came up.”

“But we settled the orphanage’s debt. That was the deal.”

“His precious little brother went berserk. It threw a wrench in the works.”

“I thought the plan was to pay off his debt in exchange for the girl?”

“Yes, but he seems to want the girl’s secret soup recipe, and now he’s withholding her.”

“Soup?! The people of this town, I swear…”

“He doesn’t know how much of a mess he’s making of our plans.”

“We have a few days left. We need to settle it before then.”

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements.”