I Was a Sword When I Reincarnated (LN) - Volume 4 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Festival Night

We discussed our next move as we left the Adventurers’ Guild.

We’ll go to the Lucille Trade Association to sell our materials. Then let’s check out the kitchen Rengill mentioned.

“Sure.”

There’s an orphanage on the way, so let’s drop by and say hi.

“What for?”

I hear they’re one of the favorites in the contest.

“But it’s not like we can eat for free just by dropping in.”

True.

From what I heard, competing stalls didn’t veer too far from their base of operations. If the Dragonhead were competing, they would sell their food outside their main store. It followed that whatever the orphanage was selling would be sold outside the orphanage itself. It made for a shorter supply route, and they could leverage whatever popularity they had from the year before. We might as well see what our rivals were up to, especially when it was on the way to the trade association.

So we headed to the orphanage, expecting to exchange friendly greetings with whoever was there. But things didn’t turn out as we hoped.

“Yaaah!”

“Waaaah!”

“Get that woman out here!”

Instead of a warm welcome, we heard the terrified cries of children and the angry voice of a man.

The commotion came from within the orphanage walls. It was the opposite of tranquil. We sneaked closer to the building, curious to see what was going on.

“I think you gave me the wrong recipe.”

The thug, sporting an appropriately thuggish mohawk, was waving around a small piece of paper. The object of his threats was a middle-aged woman in a plain old habit. She seemed slim, almost haggardly so. The children were cowering behind her.

“B-but it is the right recipe. You promised you would leave us alone when I gave it to you.”

“I think I remember asking for your prize-winning soup recipe. Am I wrong?”

“I-I’m telling you, I already gave it to you.”

It didn’t sound like ordinary money trouble. The thug said something about a recipe. Could this be linked to the cooking contest?

“You expect me to believe that? This recipe’s all ‘a dash of this’ and ‘a splash of that’?”

“Oh, but I don’t usually measure when I cook…”

“Are you serious?! How could Garbage Soup have possibly passed the preliminaries?!”

“I promise you, I don’t measure when I cook!”

The man held the orphanage’s famed soup recipe in his hand. He’d somehow managed to obtained it, albeit through devious means. But apparently it was incomplete. From his complaints, the recipe was too vague to be useful.

However, the woman was telling the truth. She never measured an ounce of salt when she cooked, and yet she finished fourth place in last year’s contest. It sounded impossible.

With a quick Identify, I found that the woman, Io, was quite spectacular. Cooking 9, Enhanced Taste Buds, Blessing of the Food God. With skills like those, she was literally exalted.

Her lack of precision was probably because she only used what was right for each particular batch. She had the recipe engraved into her subconscious and could cook entirely by intuition. That way, she could draw out the best flavors of any ingredient and make prize-winning food using even the cheapest vegetables.

The man didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Stop talking nonsense!”

“Eeek!”

Yeah, I figured.

Teacher, I’m going in.

Don’t go too crazy, now.

If Fran went overboard, it might cause trouble for the orphanage.

Okay.

She leapt into action, silently closing in on the man. He had no idea she was right behind him.

“This recipe won’t cut it, you hear me?! You’re gonna have to give us something else. Bring out Charlotte—hurk!”

Fran’s kick landed squarely in the back of the thug’s head. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Excuse me, Fran, what happened to “not going too crazy”?

What? He’s not dead. I didn’t even cut him.

I guess that was her idea of “not going crazy.” Well, the guy was still in one piece, at least. Might as well let him take a nap.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you okay?” Fran asked Io, who was trying to work out what had just happened.

“Y-yes. Somehow… But is he all right?”

Io approached the man with genuine worry, although she didn’t go so far as to kneel by his side. The man’s unconscious face scared her. She didn’t have the stomach for it.

“O-oh dear, what shall we do? He doesn’t look well at all…”

“Don’t worry. He’s not dead.”

As they spoke, Jet fenced off the children. They were scared of him at first, and the most fearful even broke into tears. But the direwolf rolled over and showed his belly in a show of submission, and soon enough the kids were playing with him.

Io was too frazzled to have a conversation, but we came to understand her situation after a few minutes of questioning.

In the recent years, the Bulbola orphanage had stopped receiving funding from the Count and was forced to raise money on its own. The orphanage wasn’t rolling in dough, so they were thankful for everything they got. The caretakers took the Count to court, since they never received official documents stopping their funding, but their efforts were for naught. However, there were still people eager to help them. A merchant came one day to offer a helping hand and lent them money at a very low rate. It looked like a great deal, but…

“The due date was awfully harsh. There was no way I could make 300,000G in two months. I wanted to ask him to wait longer, but the man disappeared.”

“Huh. You don’t know where he is?”

“Not a clue. Our caretaker has looked everywhere for him, but we can’t seem to find him. He’s not registered under any trade associations, either.”

The loan felt fishy to me. It sounded like a scam: lending money to those in need and then insisting they repay it tenfold. When the debtor inevitably failed to pay, the fraudster would take collateral as payment.

The strange part of this story was that the debt collector seemed to be demanding a recipe for soup. I assumed the deed to the orphanage was at stake.

“And that thug’s one of the merchant’s lackeys?”

“Yes. He wanted the recipe for my soup, since I couldn’t make payment.”

Was this the merchant’s way of cheating the contest? He’d sure gone out of his way to cheat if he spent 300,000G on this scam. Then again, I supposed it would bring a high return. He must have only wanted the recipe, too. He hadn’t made any threats or demanded that Io drop out altogether.

Suffice to say there was a lot we didn’t understand. We could interrogate the thug for more information, but the orphanage might get into deeper trouble if the loan shark’s lackey came home bruised and battered. We weren’t in the business of making unnecessary enemies of underground organizations, either.

What should we do with him?

Well, we can’t leave him lying on the floor. Let’s just fool him and send him on his way.

Good thing Fran caught the thug completely by surprise. He hadn’t seen the face of his assailant, which left us options. I gave Fran the overview of the little act she could give him when he woke up.

And that’s about the gist of it. Can you handle it?

“Hm!”

Break a leg. Not literally.

“All right. Heal.”

“Bwuh?”

The goon woke up as soon as we healed him. That settled the first act. Things were going to script so far.

“Are you awake?”

“Huh? What happened…”

Good. He had no idea. We could make up any number of lies, and he would gobble it up like candy.

“You passed out in the middle of a conversation.”

“I did?”

“Hm. I’m an adventurer who just happened to be passing. I can use Healing Magic, so I healed you.”

That’s it. We would convince the man that we had nothing to do with his blackout. In fact, we healed him, so he owed us his life.

“Something hit the back of my head…”

“Must be the pavement. You fell pretty hard.”

“Really? Huh. W-well, looks like I owe you one.”

“Sudden loss of consciousness is a symptom of a terrible disease. The fact that you lost it in the middle of a conversation suggests that it’s terminal. You might not have long to live.”

“What?”

“Blood will seep out of your every pore, and you’ll die screaming and writhing in agony.”

Okay, I know I said make him worry about his health, but this is too much. I don’t think he’s going to buy it.

“R-really? Wh-what should I do?”

But he bought it anyway. Since Fran could use Healing Magic, the man considered her an expert physician.

“Go home and rest for the day.”

“Th-that’s it?” 

“Hm. You’ll probably feel better once you lie down.”

“I-I see! You heard the doctor! I’ll be back soon, don’t you worry!”

Still shaken from his supposed faint, the man believed Fran’s terrible acting. He threatened the members of the orphanage, and then picked himself off the ground and wandered away.

Jet, follow him.

Hrr.

Hopefully we could learn the identity of our malevolent benefactor. Even if we couldn’t, Jet could still learn the scent of the man and his cronies, and could keep his eyes open for them during the contest. If they were fellow contestants, there was a chance that we might become targets of their harassment, too.

Five minutes later.

“Thank you so much for helping us. Are you sure this is all you want?”

“Hm.”

Io invited Fran into the orphanage and apologized profusely. There was no way she could ever repay Fran’s favor in gold. Instead, she offered her some soup, to which Fran instantly agreed.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it isn’t much…”

Io reluctantly served what was, to her, nothing more than Garbage Soup. Despite the cook’s humility, Fran’s reaction said a lot about its quality.

“Hm… slurrp…”

How is it?

Fran’s eyebrows were furled in vexation.

It’s good.

Better than mine?

Hm… This vegetable broth is exquisite. It’s a miracle.

I could see why she thought so. Compared to other restaurants, the ingredients in this soup were paltry. Water, leftover vegetables, and salt. That was it. Io didn’t even use pepper. Fran asked, just to make sure. The fact that it tasted better than my soup was amazing. This woman might be the greatest chef in all of Bulbola…

“Will you be in the contest?”

“Yes, of course.”

“With this soup?”

“Yes. Everyone is so kind. They are willing to buy my soup for 10G because they know of our terrible conditions. I’m always so thankful. I manage to raise funds for an entire year thanks to this contest.”

Io didn’t think much of her soup and assumed her customers patronized her out of pity. And perhaps pity was a factor, but soup this good could definitely be sold for more than 10G.

Still, even sold so cheaply, Io’s soup was more profitable than our curry bread. I doubted if making a bowl even cost 1G.

She might be our strongest competition…

She didn’t place fourth last year out of pity, I knew that much. As Fran slurped her soup, someone barged into the orphanage.

“Is everyone okay?!”

“Big sis!”

“Welcome back!”

The girl was fifteen, maybe sixteen, with silver hair cut to her shoulders. She was pretty, almost ethereal-looking. The kids seemed to know her, so I assumed she must be part of the orphanage.

She was dressed oddly, though. Her white dress was almost see-through, with a single frayed hole for her head. It was held together by a belt tied around her middle. Something like a bikini underneath covered her body, although it was little better than nothing, and her arms and thighs were still exposed. It would’ve looked obscene, if not for the halo of purity around her. Instead, the outfit made her look like a shrine maiden or priestess. And her agility when she barged through the door suggested that she was no ordinary city girl. 

Her strange getup made me think that she might be an adventurer. The metal rings she wore on her waist attracted my attention. They were half the size of a hula hoop but didn’t look like ordinary decorations… Maybe they were ceremonial tools for the festival.

In any case, it was time for an Identify.

Name: Charlotte

Age: 16

Race: Human

Class: Battle Dancer

Level: 30/99

HP: 106; Magic: 198; Strength: 68; Agility: 141

Skill: Dodge 6; Chorus 5; Wind Magic 3; Blink 3; Battle Dance 7; Battle Dance Arts 6; Martial Arts 3; Martial Arts Mastery 4; Dance 8; Water Magic 3; Spirit Manipulation; Mana Manipulation

Unique Skill: Fiend Crusher

Class Skill: Alluring Dance

Title: Battle Priestess, Exorcist

Equipment: Enchanted Steel Battle Rings; Snow Monkey Dance Garb; Pearl Wolf Sandals; Anti-Charm Bracelet; Charm Anklets

Identify revealed some interesting tidbits about the girl. She was apparently a Battle Dancer. I’d never seen that class before. Battle Dance seemed to be her main skill.

Battle Dance: Requirement for dancing in the heat of battle.

Battle Dance Arts: Dance charms opponents and buffs allies.

Fiend Crusher: Greatly multiplies damage to Fiend types. Applies the effect Fiend Seal.

Alluring Dance: Greatly increases the effects of Dance.

I gathered that she was like the standard Dancer class in an RPG, with the addition of direct attacks and the usual slew of support dances. The rings hanging from her waist were not decorations, but weapons.

“Charlotte? What are you doing here?”

“Emma called me. She said they were back.”

One of the kids had gone to her for help. Given her stats, she would’ve been able to handle the thug. I still wondered who she was, and it looked like the feeling was mutual.

“Uh, who’s the girl?”

“She is Fran, an adventurer. She helped us earlier when things were about to get hairy.”

Io told Charlotte how Fran had knocked the thug out cold and tricked him into leaving. Charlotte looked surprised.

“Really? You’re an adventurer?”

“Hm. The name’s Fran. D-Rank.”

“W-wow. I can’t believe you’re a higher rank than me at your age.”

She didn’t seem disbelieving or upset though and promptly accepted Fran’s status as a mid-rank adventurer. Fran was likely in her good graces already for helping the people at the orphanage. Still, it worried me how trusting and friendly both Io and Charlotte were of complete strangers…

“Thank you, Fran. My name is Charlotte.”

“It was no big deal.”

All we did was kick the bastard in the back of the head and lie to him about a terminal disease, after all. In fact, Fran was fortunate, since she got to taste the famous orphanage soup.

“Are you an adventurer, too?”

“Yeah. I’m still in E-Rank, though.”

Charlotte’s support class made it difficult for her to advance despite her high level.

“You’re the guardian of this orphanage?”

“Oh, no. I was brought up here, so I help out from time to time.”

“Charlotte makes money for the orphanage by being an adventurer. She gives it to the other orphans who are no longer here as well, since they’re having a rough time at the moment… I really wish we didn’t have to worry her so much.”

Io looked apologetic, but Charlotte simply smiled.

“What are you talking about? I only made it this far because the folks at the orphanage went through the trouble of raising me. This is the least I can do.”

“I’m sorry, Charlotte… If only there were something we could do to help ourselves.”

“There’s no need to apologize, ma’am. I’m only helping because I want to. It’s almost time for the contest, so just hang in there. You’ll sell a lot of bowls of soup.”

“Yes… You’re right. I’ll do my best.”

I was a sucker for this kind of development. I came here with the full intention of learning their weaknesses, but seeing their genuine concern for each other struck me. If I had tear ducts, I would cry.

As the two continued their conversation, one of the smaller girls approached the table. She wanted to clear Fran’s empty bowl away. As she did so, I saw that her arms were quite skinny.

The same girl produced a small plate with a single cookie on top of it. She presented it to Fran.

“What’s this?”

“My snack for the day. But I want you to have it, lady. Thank you for helping Miss Io.”

The freckled girl nibbled on her lower lip as she gave Fran her cookie. She really must’ve wanted to eat it herself…

Oh, what a good girl! Fran’s still the best, but this girl was raised well, too!

“Let’s share it, then.”

“Okay.”

The girl beamed as Fran broke the cookie in half. She was cute, and Fran couldn’t help but pat her head.

“Is it good?”

“Yeah!”

Fran was usually on the receiving end of this kind of treatment. She seemed happy to play the part of the older sister for once. Io and Charlotte watched the heartwarming scene with smiles on their faces. But my opinion of the Count was in the pits now. How could he abandon these kind people and cut their funding?! He hadn’t seemed to be that kind of person when we broke bread with him… I supposed he was still a member of the aristocracy, and they viewed the lower class as mere numbers.

It would be easy enough for us to appeal to him. As long as Fult and Satya were here, they might be able to pressure the Count into improving the quality of life for the orphans. The problem was that the improvement might only last for as long as we were present. The Count was liable to backslide as soon as we left.

We would definitely bring this up to the Count, but we also needed another way to help the orphanage.

Her, Fran suggested.

Yeah. Let’s give her a call.

Hm.

We could send messages across continents from the guild. Contacting Alessa would be a cinch.

“Amanda would do something about this.”

A-Rank adventurer, Amanda the Hariti. The famed half-elf adventurer and Protector of Children. She loved kids and single-handedly funded the orphanage in Alessa while still managing to support children all over the world. She would definitely help these people.

Before departing from the orphanage, we left them with the food we’d collected in Alessa and Dars. Grains and potatoes along with dried fish and meats. We’d held on to them for too long anyway and wouldn’t be using them in the cooking contest. It wasn’t much, but I wanted to help.

“A-are you sure we can have all of this?”

“Thank you so much. We will never forget this.”

Io and Charlotte bowed their heads. After the kids saw us off from the orphanage, Fran got started.

Teacher, let’s go to the Adventurers’ Guild.

Yeah, let’s go.

We headed for the guild immediately and asked the receptionist to send a message.

“You’ll be sending a message to Alessa. Is that correct?”

“Hm.”

“All right, we’ll send it off at once. Lucky for you, we have some messenger birds available.”

I expected the lady to pull out a magical gadget created for long-distance communication, but it seemed they were still using carrier pigeons. Well, hawk-like monsters, to be specific, so I guess they were carrier hawks.

The hawks could cover a month’s journey in a little over a day, which was a testament to their great speed. Upon further inquiry, we found out that the monster was called the Wind Eagle, a creature specialized in high-speed flight.

They weren’t that common, though. Even the guild at Bulbola only had two. One of them happened to be free, which was really lucky for us. It was expensive, but we could afford to spend 10,000G. The price was still steep, and I agonized over it a little, thinking maybe it would be better to donate the money to the orphanage itself.

From what I remembered, Amanda couldn’t stray too far from Alessa. She was a human deterrent to the kingdom of Raydoss in the north. Even so, we still needed her help. I was sure she had pull with the right people and hoped she would be able to instill a more permanent solution to the orphanage’s problems. 

So we paid the postage and wrote about our current situation and the awful living conditions of the local orphans. We ended the letter with, “These kids are having a rough time, and we hope you can help them out.” We were asking a lot, but Amanda could offer them far greater help than we ever could. We had more on the line than our petty pride: the orphans would still need to eat long after we left Bulbola. We needed all the help we could get.

“Thank you. I will have our hawk deliver it immediately.”

“Please do.”

That took care of the letter.

“Woof.”

Jet, you’re back.

Jet returned as soon as we left the Adventurers’ Guild. The thug had headed in the opposite direction from the Lucille Trade Association. I had really wanted to prepare for the cooking contest today…but it was too late to turn this boat around.

Fran followed Jet into the city.

I expected him to take us to the slums, so I was quite surprised to find the thug lived in an ordinary residential area.

Here?

“Woof.”

Jet took us to a large mansion. The estate was fenced off with a five-meter-high wall to deter onlookers. Its size made me wonder if it belonged to a noble, although the location made me doubt it. What was this building for?

We circled around to the front gate but found no nameplates for identification. And so we asked the neighbors. An adventurer asking about the owner would raise anyone’s alarm, but Fran was young enough that people let their guard down around her. We asked questions without raising alarm, and Jet even helped by transforming himself into a puppy for extra cuteness.

If Fran was talking to a man, she would tilt her head and glance shyly up at him. Her act was enough to make the hardest of them melt.

“Hey, mister?”

“Wh-what is it, little girl?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

“Sure, of course, what is it? I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

I apologize to the men she enticed to sin.

Women were a much more straightforward affair. Her cool expression was more effective against them than any contrived act.

“Say, ma’am?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Who owns that huge mansion over there? A noble?”

“That old thing? Yes, I suppose that is the biggest building around.”

“Terrible company, though.”

“Oh, yes. Very distressing. I have no idea who owns it, but the company they keep ain’t good.”

“Really?”

That was surprising. I was sure the local Society of Housewives would know.

“But just between you and me, that place looks like it’s being used by some bad people. They always enter the mansion under the cover of night.”

No wonder the building felt out of place. The fact that the thug came here pretty much confirmed those suspicions.

“Like some kind of secret society?”

“Ha ha, wouldn’t that be the day! I don’t think any secret society would settle down in our part of town. Although I do remember hearing that one of the Count’s carriages was seen entering that place.”

“The Count’s in on this?”

“Who knows? It did have his crest, though. Your guess is as good as mine whether the Count was actually in it.”

We carried on our inquiries, but it didn’t look like anyone knew who the mansion belonged to. However, there were lots rumors about it being used by a crooked bunch. Everyone advised Fran not to go near it, especially at night.

There were people inside, right, Jet?

“Ruff. Arf.”

Jet nodded. There was quite a number inside the mansion.

Well, barging in would be reckless…

We didn’t know how many people were inside or how strong they were. We needed proof. We’d be charged with breaking and entering if we charged through those gates now.

We would have to hold off for another day.

Do you have their scent, Jet?

“Woof.”

Good. Keep an eye out for them.

“Arf, arf!”

We didn’t know when the thug or his boss would come, so the best we could do was be vigilant. For now, we had business at the Lucille Trade Association. I guess we could ask them about the mansion while we were there.

One hour later.

“And that’s all of it.”

“Hm. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Best of luck with the contest.”

We were in front of the condemned restaurant that the Lucille Trade Association had prepared for us. The place still had working stoves and ovens, along with a well in the back. The LTA had people come and clean it periodically, which explained the lack of dust.

Our ingredients were stacked up neatly in a corner. Everything was present and accounted for: spices, vegetables, flour, and oil. There was a lot to account for, too. It nearly filled the whole shop. The LTA had prepared everything we ordered in a little over a day, as expected of a great trade association.

Should I store these?

Yeah, might as well.

The Pocket Dimension meant we could take whatever we needed out of storage, and it came with the added benefit of preserving whatever was in it. Fran proceeded to store everything away there, while the couriers Rengill had employed stared in shock. This little girl was easily storing away barrels of vegetables and sacks of flour they had had to transport with their own sweat and tears.

Rengill even offered Fran a permanent spot as an employee for the LTA.

The captain knew about the Pocket Dimension, but actually seeing it in action drove home its convenience. It sounded like our Pocket Dimension outclassed even storage spells.

“You can’t store this much with a Space-Time spell?”

“No. The Space-Time mages that I know could only store a third of this.”

Pocket Dimension was a Skill instead of a spell, after all. It was much stronger than most Space-Time spells and came with unique perks. Merchants would die to get a hold of it.

The paper bags we’d use to sell our wares were also included in the package. Paper was widely used in Bulbola, and even ordinary citizens had access to it. In this world, parchment was used by mages, while laymen used ordinary paper.

The bags looked like the brown paper bags back on Earth, all the way down to their thickness and uneven texture, though I had a sinking feeling that the overall quality was lower.

They came in two sizes: one large enough to hold two curry breads and one large enough to hold six. Cutting the smaller one in half would make it perfect for carrying a single curry bread around town. It would look pretty good, too. Oh, how I hoped our bread would catch on in this world.

We also cut holes at the top of the paper bags for handles, making them easier to carry.

“We have a lot of bags in storage, so feel free to place an additional order if you need it.”

“Sure.”

We asked Rengill about the mansion Jet had discovered, and he seemed to have some idea of the proprietor.

“It might belong to the Ythra Trade Association.”

“Who are they?”

“They are former mercenaries and bandits who employ slaves to do their bidding. A mean bunch, to say the least. They’re not shy about their cruel methods, either.”

Ythra Trade Association. Got it.

“They have ties with the aristocracy and underground associations, so I recommend you have as little to do with them as possible. Even we at Lucille avoid them.”

The Ythra Trade Association sounded more like a mob than merchants.

Rengill handed us the keys to the place before leaving. It was his way of saying the contract was complete.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

We had a kitchen. We had our ingredients. Now, we could get to cooking.

Wait—we still had to register at the Chefs’ Guild. They required each contestant to register their ingredients and submit a sample of their dish.

Let’s make a sample batch for the Chefs’ Guild before we get going.

“Hm. It’s finally time.” Fran clenched her fist, full of motivation. She really was set on making curry a household dish.

We started making our sample batch then. It was easier than I thought, since I already had experience making curry. I prepped the water and filling for each type of curry: sweet, spicy, and very spicy. I used pork, beef, and chicken for the fillings, though it wasn’t really pork, beef, and chicken. It was monster meat.

Making bread strong enough to contain the curry was the real challenge. After several failed batches, we finally made one that was satisfactory both in shape and taste.

Okay, that should do it.

I looked at the freshly deep-fried curry bread. It looked about the same as the ones sold in Earth’s bakeries.

“Leave the taste test to us, Teacher.”

“Woof! Woof, woof!”

I left the breads on a wire rack to cool and drain off excess oil. Fran and Jet, who already had their midday snack, approached them while wagging their tails.

Hang on. It’s still oily. It needs to drain for a little bit.

“Aww.”

“Ruff…”

My hungry companions waited right in front of the batch, eager to get a taste. Not that staring at the breads would make them dry any quicker.

The dough of the standard pork curry bread was cooked to golden brown. The spicy beef bread was speckled with red chili. The super spicy chicken was decorated with green herbs that looked like cilantro. In total, I’d made six of each.

After a fifteen-minute wait on the cooling rack, the curry breads were ready to handle and eat. I stored half of the batch away in the Pocket Dimension to submit to the Chefs’ Guild and gave the remainder to Fran and Jet.

It’s ready now. Here you go.

“Hm!”

“Woof, woof!”

The insatiable duo finished the remaining curry bread as soon as I gave them the go-ahead.

“So good.” Fran finished the plain curry bread in three bites. 

“Arf, arf.”

What do you think?

“I think it’s amazing! Curry rice was good, but curry bread is on a whole different level.”

“Bark!”

It was a line right out of a cooking manga. I was glad she liked it.

“This one’s good, too.”

“Woof, woof, woof!”

Jet seemed to like the spicy one more than the plain. He had the tongue for it, I guess.

What do you think, Fran?

“No complaints here.”

Fran didn’t have any trouble with the spicy version, but what about the super spicy bread?

“Hot. But good. But hot.”

“Woof! Woof, woof, arf!”

I guess regular spice was as far as Fran could go. Very spicy was a huge hit with our direwolf, though.

How much of each should we make? Very spicy was definitely an acquired taste… I would go with forty percent regular, forty percent spicy, and twenty percent very spicy.

How’s that Cure Turmeric?

“Hm… I can’t tell.”

“Arf.”

I used it in all of my breads. I added it for depth of flavor, but apparently it had the secondary effect of healing. Properly prepared, it should have the same effect as a status ailment curing potion.

I had zero knowledge of magical pharmacy, but Cure Turmeric was as magical as it was tasty. My Cooking skill kicked in, and I was able to prep it without a problem. It should be enough to trigger a cleansing effect in the body, but it was difficult to observe in healthy consumers. I didn’t mind, since I wasn’t treating it as a cure to begin with.

Looks like we’re good on the taste front. Let’s go to the Chefs’ Guild.

“Sure.”

Thirty minutes later, we’d successfully submitted our curry bread to the guild. Not that much could go wrong, since all we needed to do was give them the sample and the recipe.

Let’s head back and get prepared.

“Hm.”

I planned to make a huge batch of curry bread and store it in the Pocket Dimension. We were going to have to spend the entire night making it. Whatever we cooked would be a ploy to attract more customers. The bulk of our stock would be made in advance in an effort to keep downtime low and sales high. Any leftovers would go to Fran and Jet.

“Fran! There you are.” Colbert greeted us in the lobby of the Chefs’ Guild.

“Colbert? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you! You said you planned to come here today, so I decided to wait. It’s almost time for the contest, and I wondered if you needed any help?” Colbert huffed as he approached us. He was really into this contest. “Anything at all, really! I just want to help. It’s not like I want to have a taste of your master’s cooking or anything!”

So that was his plan. Well, if he really wanted to help, I wasn’t going to stop him. I’d treat him to as much as he wanted, in fact.

Teacher?

He seems honest enough. Ask him if he knows any criers.

I was going to ask Rengill for recommendations, but having adventurers around meant that they could double as our bodyguards.

“We’re looking for a crier for our food stall. We need someone to be the cashier and do basic food prep, too. Three of them if possible.”

“You got it! I’ll get a party ready by tomorrow!”

“We’ll be generous with our pay.”

“All the better. I’ll get you the best in human resources!”

That should cover the staff. We had two days left until the contest, and things were going as planned.

You’re helping too, Fran.

“Hm. I’ll do my best.”

Jet, you’re our watchdog.

“Bark!”

We returned to our base of operations and got to work on preparations.

First were the spices. I organized them by the type of bread I’d need them for. This would be instrumental in creating consistently delicious bread. Our spice blend needed to be just right.

Jet, stop sniffing the spice bowls. Your breath is enough to blow them away! Oh no, now Fran’s sneezing from the spices in the air! Anyway, I’ll stay in sword form and organize the spices now.

“Hm.”

“Arf…”

I asked Fran to prep the rest of the ingredients.

“You got it.”

“Ruff?”

There’s not really anything you can do, Jet.

“Arf, arf…”

You can give me puppy dog eyes all you want, but them’s the facts.

“Woof, woof!”

He was really energetic today.

“Bark…!”

Standing on your hind legs isn’t going to help…

His legs were shaking now, too. I was worried he’d fall over something. Jet really wanted to help, and I wondered if there was something he could do. He’d have to use either his front paws or his mouth. Maybe he could use his mouth to hold on to something…

Oh, I know. You can help us make butter.

“Arf?”

Hang on.

I took out a barrel of monster milk from the Pocket Dimension. We’d ordered a few barrels of the stuff from Rengill. It was expensive, but the captain said it was worth every penny. Drinking the milk by itself was good, but that wasn’t all it could do. Its composition meant it could be turned into butter easier than regular milk.

I was going to use magic to save time but decided to delegate to Jet instead. I asked him to turn himself into his former size.

Say “aah,” Jet.

“Aarf…?”

I placed a barrel in his gaping maw.

Whatever you do, don’t bite into it. It’s just a wooden barrel and you might get splinters.

“Ruff.”

All right, now I want you to shake that barrel as hard as you can.

“A-arf?”

You’re the one who said you wanted to help. Now, get shaking, boy!

“W-woof!”

Jet started to headbang on my mark. At his rate, we’d have butter within the hour. I went back to cooking and lost myself in it. Next thing I knew, it was getting dark. How time flies when you’re in the zone.

Jet was curled up in a corner after an hour of non-stop headbanging. Even a direwolf couldn’t keep his head straight after that.

The sun was almost fully set now.

Fran, how about we take a break and have a look around the festival? The Festival of the Moons started when night fell.

“Hm. Food stalls.”

Sure, but I think there’s a parade, too.

“Yeah. Lots of good food.”

Well, whatever makes you happy.

That was what mattered most.

“Come on, Jet.”

“A-arf…”

Jet staggered as he followed Fran out the back door. Even in his dazed state, he was still set on protecting his master. He truly deserved the title “Beastman’s Best Friend.” Not that it actually popped up on his status sheet.

“So many people.”

“Woof.”

The stars were out, but there were as many people as during the afternoon. No, there were probably more. The streets were lit up and lively tonight, and the silence of midnight was interrupted by laughter. Food stalls lined either side of the street, reminding me of the festivals back on Earth, albeit with a lack of chocolate-covered bananas, hot dogs, and fried noodles. Instead, they sold skewers of grilled and salted fish, mystery meat, and the tongue of some unknown creature. Things I could never find back on Earth.

It sure is lively tonight.

“Hm. Munch, munch.”

What’s that you’re eating?

“Grilled squid thing.”

“Munch, munch.”

Is that a ham hock, Jet? You sure found your appetite quick. We haven’t even been out that long.

And here I thought Jet was still reeling from churning the butter.

“The good food is calling us.”

“Woof.”

Jet’s appetite overpowered his drowsiness. They wandered from stall to stall, letting their stomachs lead the way. Eventually, we reached the square and heard the sound of music. It sounded western and quite unlike anything I’d heard at Japanese shrine festivals. The rhythm sounded somewhat Latin.

We walked to the source and found the band. I recognized something that looked like a violin and a bagpipe among the unique instruments.

“This festival’s a lot of fun.”

“Woof!”

As we took in the atmosphere, a roar of applause boomed through the crowd.

Sounds like there’s something coming this way.

“It’s huge.”

Something was making its way along the main road, and the crowd parted to watch.

Looks like a parade float. Who’s that on it?

“Priestess.”

Ooh. Yeah, I guess her outfit does look quite holy.

A quick Identify revealed her class was Oracle. I wondered if she could really hear the voices of the gods. They were proven beings in this world, after all.

The float was headed to the temple square, where the oracle would offer a dance and a prayer to the gods. We would’ve followed her, but the crowd became too thick to navigate. Everyone wanted to see the ceremony.

Fran, let’s get to higher ground.

“Hm.”

We decided to use our unfair advantage to get special seats.

We separated from the crowd and leapt to the roof of a nearby house. We could take the rooftops all the way to the temple.

Fran carried on using Air Hike, sometimes jumping from a conveniently planted tree, and eventually up onto a high spire right next to the temple where the ceremony would take place. We had a perfect view of the temple square.

The multitude of people pushed and shoved below, reminding me of the fully packed trains on Earth. We would’ve been stuck there if we’d gone on foot… Fran wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. Good thing we cheated a little.

I returned my gaze to the main street and saw that the float had almost arrived. Perfect timing.

An altar and stage were set up especially in the temple square. We watched the spectacle from our spire as the float stopped in front of the temple.

They’re here.

“Hm.”

The priestess came down from the float, singing prayers to her god.

Her divine song had a calming effect on a crowd, and for a moment, the characteristic silence of midnight returned. The band serenaded her, now with the Japanese sounds of a flute and koto.

Her prayers reached their crescendo, and the priestess broke out into a dance. The other women who joined her were all slightly older than Fran and looked far more delicate. Their short silver hair fluttered in the night wind.

“Is that Charlotte?”

Didn’t think we’d see her here…

Charlotte, the girl from the orphanage, was among them. Her kind expression had been replaced with a serious mask as she danced.

“She’s so pretty.”

Yeah.

We would’ve been content spending the rest of the night watching the ceremony, but our attention drifted elsewhere.

“Something…feels off.”

Yeah. Looks like tourists aren’t the only ones in the audience.

We sensed something dangerous from one of the alleyways, which linked the temple square to the city slums. There were people there. They were ready to fight, and they had an intense hatred of Charlotte.

The alleyway was behind the temple and otherwise deserted. It would be easy for the assailants to sneak up to the stage and attack her.

Teacher.

I know. We can’t let this one slide.

I’m going in!

Fran leapt into action before we decided on a plan of attack.

Wait! The festival’s still going on, so don’t cause too much of a scene!

Got it.

Fran used Air Hike to quietly circle around. There were five of them, all men, and all capable of handling themselves in a fight.

I Identified them. Their leader, Boran, was pretty strong. If he were a registered adventurer, he’d be a D-Rank. He bore the title Sadist and could use both Sword Arts and Magic. I doubted he was one of the good guys.

The rest of his team were cut from the same cloth. Their skills and titles revealed them as members of the underground.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“When did you—?!”

The man jumped back at Fran’s sudden appearance. He sighed in relief when he saw she was nothing more than a little girl.

“Get outta here, kid. You don’t wanna be around for this.”

“Don’t blame us if you start crying.”

“Are you in a hurry?” Fran asked. “Why? Are you part of the ceremony?”

The man clicked his tongue. “Shut it!” he yelled, losing his patience. “You better stop talking if you know what’s good for you.”

“What are you going to do? Are you a bad man?”

Fran didn’t miss a beat. You could see the man’s veins pulse with anger as he glared at her. He reached out to grab her, no longer caring about witnesses. Fran dodged it easily with a quick backstep; any other child wouldn’t have been as fortunate.

“What is this kid?!”

As the man got ready to activate another Skill, Boran stepped in to put him back in line.

“Leave her! We’re running out of time! The dance is almost over!”

“S-sorry, boss.”

“This kid isn’t the reason why we’re here. Focus on the target!”

“Yes, boss!”

Now, who was their target? I was sure a few minutes of interrogation would answer that question.

“Gyaa!”

“Guaah!”

The men were about to proceed when two of them suddenly fell to the ground. They held their legs and writhed in agony.

“Wh-what happened? Hey—!”

“Th-there’s something here!”

Jet. The festival lights deprived him of the shadows he needed, but he could still hide far more easily than he could under the midday sun. The lights failed to reach the alleyway, making it no brighter than an average night. Lacking Night Vision, the men couldn’t see what was biting their ankles.

Remaining hidden, Jet continued his ambush. They didn’t know what hit them. Boran, already wincing on the ground, continued glaring at Fran. He suspected she was the source of the attack despite knowing that was impossible. He took his eyes off her and scanned his surroundings. He really was an elite soldier to keep a cool head in a situation like this.

“Run away, gyaa!”

“Oof!”

The five men were helpless against Jet’s ambush, and he locked them in place. He bit their ankles from the shadows, and they all rolled around in pain. They’d had the awful luck of encountering a shadow-manipulating wolf. This wolf in particular was still annoyed from churning butter, and I suspected he was taking his frustrations out on them.

Now, let’s get some answers from… Wait.

I stopped, sensing more people coming, but tension soon dissolved into relief as three town guards rushed into the alleyway.

They were on routine patrol when they heard the agonized screams of the gang.

“Hey! What’s going on in there?!”

“You all right?!”

“What happened here?!”

Well, this was an unwanted interference. We couldn’t interrogate the men with these guards around. Now that the thugs were incapacitated, the guards would probably arrest them. Worst of all, we might get implicated, too. I doubted the writhing hoodlums would say that Fran had nothing to do with it. We couldn’t get involved.

“What on earth… Did you see anything, little girl?” the guard asked.

I don’t think he suspected Fran of any crimes, but he was cautious of her.

“I came here to watch the festival. Then I overheard these guys saying they were going to kidnap someone.”

“Is that so? What happened to these guys then?”

“I don’t know. They just started falling on their faces.”

“And…you had nothing to do with it?”

“Nope.”

He didn’t look satisfied with that. In fact, he became more suspicious. I could tell from the guard’s tone of voice that he’d gone from treating Fran as an innocent onlooker to a reasonable suspect. His gaze sharpened.

“Surely you must’ve seen something.”

“It was too dark to see anything.”

“Now, miss—”

“Hey!”

One of his friends stopped him before he could press Fran further.

I felt like I’d seen this one before. He huddled with his friends and whispered something to them with a most grave look on his face.

“I’ve seen this girl before.”

“What? You mean she’s the Count’s—”

“She has ties to the Phyllians?!”

And then I remembered. Our friend was among the first people we met when we were headed to the Count’s mansion.

“W-we deeply apologize for taking up your time, ma’am!”

“Thank you for your cooperation!”

The guards immediately changed their tune. To them, Fran was friends with royalty, and getting in her way would spell disaster for their careers. To that end, she was not to be bothered with any formal statements or other such bothersome protocol. The color drained from the face of the guard that was questioning her. I kind of felt sorry for the guy.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Indeed you didn’t, ma’am!”

Any attempt at clarification fell on deaf ears. Well, at least we prevented this from turning into a full-blown incident.

“Can I go now?”

“Let her through!”

“Thanks.”

We avoided wasting any more time, but we needed to warn them before we went on our way.

“Those guys are really strong. You better call for backup.”

“Yes, ma’am! Thank you for warning us!”

“Go on, blow that whistle.”

The thugs wouldn’t be able to get away now. The guards were well trained, but they were outranked both in strength and number. 

Still, I wondered what the thugs wanted. Were they really just here to interrupt the festivities? Or did they have something bigger in mind? Well, it was up to the boys and girls at the Knight Brigade to figure that out.

“They’re still going.”

Looks like we’re just in time for the ending.

We returned to our vantage point and watched Charlotte dance. The beat had gotten faster, and her movements were more intense now. The performance was nearing its end.

“Charlotte’s doing great…”

Yeah.

She entranced us with her dance, and we silently watched to its conclusion. Her body looked like it was glowing with light. Mana surged through her, perhaps as a part of the ritual. Soft blue light further increased her divine aura. She looked like a goddess descended to earth. Even the beads of sweat flicked off of her hair were divine.

Fran snuggled up to Jet and got comfortable, losing herself in Charlotte’s performance.

I joined Fran in silence, and we watched the ritual all the way to its end.

Shrine bells chimed through the square, and Charlotte struck a pose, thrusting one hand in the air and touching her face with the other.

The blue light enveloping her flashed, illuminating the entire stage. It was magical, but that wasn’t all. The pallid light surrounding the stage was charged with divine energy. So much so that it moved the onlookers to tears of reverence.

The ritual was both an offering to the gods and a way to use mana to cleanse the area of evil spirits. I assumed it only worked on the weaker spirits, but that made me wonder why the men from earlier had wanted to interrupt it.

“It’s over.”

That sure was pretty.

“Charlotte was really pretty,” Fran said, looking both sad and satisfied. 

I was glad she enjoyed it.

All right, let’s head back and get to cooking again.

“Yeah!”

It was a well-deserved change of pace after all our adventuring. Recharged, we returned to our kitchen—stopping at whatever food stall Fran wanted to try along the way.

I’m going to have to kick it into high gear. You and Jet can go to bed if you’re tired. I’ll take care of the rest.

I was going to pull an all-nighter tonight. We’d told Sebastian that we would either be back late or not at all, so we wouldn’t worry our hosts. I doubted Fran and Jet would mind if we stayed here for the rest of our trip. We had sleeping bags stowed in our Pocket Dimension, so all we needed was a roof over our heads.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help.”

“Woof.”

You sure? Well, I guess I’ll need your help then.

“You got it!”

Watching the festivities had refreshed my companions despite the late hour.

You can continue prepping the vegetables, Fran.

“Got it.”

Jet…you’re on butter duty again.

“A-arf…”

I floated him another barrel of monster milk. It was time for him to channel his inner metalhead again. We should have enough now to make a whole lot of curry bread. Butter by itself was a luxury, and the monster butter in the market was expensive. We saved a lot of money making our own. Unsalted, it tasted quite fresh and delicious.

Jet held the barrel in his jaws with a look of slight exasperation and then moved to a part of the shop which had more headspace. He was going to need it.

Which leaves me to handle the dough making.

What’s going on? My head feels like it’s floating in nothingness. I was making curry bread and then… 

And then what?

My short-term memory was fogged over.

Darkness was all around me. Infinite and impenetrable darkness.

Strange. Did my sight bug out on me? Was I damaged? Which part of me was tied to my sight anyway? I think I would’ve noticed if parts of my body were broken.

As I pondered my current situation, a ray of light finally punched a hole through the darkness. Nothing was wrong with my vision after all, and I let out a sigh of relief. Then again, I still had no idea where I was. That was definitely a cause for concern.

I was within a ten-meter-long gray box made of neither stone nor wood.

The mysterious structure lacked any entry point. How did I get in here?

As I searched the walls for anything familiar, I saw a figure about ten meters away. A middle-aged man. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing long, flowing robes. He looked lean, but I could tell there was muscle underneath. His eyes were sharp and narrow, and his lips set in a terrifying nihilistic grin. Long canines showed between his lips, adding a hint of ferocity. He might have been a gentleman, but he was still a beastman underneath. The apparent contradiction added to his mystery.

Yet, despite his presence, I couldn’t feel his aura. He was like a phantasm. I tried to get closer so I could get a better look…

I can’t move.

My body had stiffened. The man didn’t approach me, either.

Who are you?

The man didn’t answer, but opened and closed his hands in front of his mouth.

Why are you gesturing to me?

“—” 

What’s that? I can’t hear you.

“—” 

You can’t talk?

That seemed to be the correct answer. He pointed, as if commending me. He still had something to tell me, though, and resumed his charade.

At least I wasn’t getting reincarnated again. I watched the man’s movements, trying to make sense of them. He used both his hands to form an upside down triangle in the air. Then, he moved his hands back and forth.

Is it an upside-down pyramid?

“—” 

The man shook his head. I guess that wasn’t it. I really couldn’t tell.

Sensing my confusion, he gestured again. He shifted his face to an idiotic expression, half-opened his mouth, and stuck both his arms forward. Then, he slowly shuffled his way towards me.

This was easy enough.

Zombie?

He gave me a thumbs up.

The man repeated the zombie gesture along with the upside-down triangle. The subject of zombies reminded me of the dungeon on the floating island.

Hey, wait a second… Is that upside down triangle supposed to be the floating island?

“—” 

He gave me another thumbs up.

What next?

The man dropped into a stance and put his hands next to his hips. Balling them up into fists, he concentrated until he shook. His body radiated with the faint glow of mana.

Kaio-ken?

“—” 

Well, I didn’t expect him to know that move anyway. The man repeated the gesture.

Hmm… You’re charging up for a big attack?

I was getting closer now, though I hadn’t quite hit the mark. The man snapped his fingers in a show of delighted frustration.

You’re firing a charged-up attack?

The man pointed at me. I was getting warmer. A charged-up attack on the floating island?

Oh, Unleash Potential!

This time, he gave me two thumbs up. He took his right hand to his mouth and opened and closed it, as if mimicking moving lips.

A conversation during Unleash Potential?

The Lich?

He made a cross with his arms. Wrong answer.

Who else did I talk to during Unleash Potential? There was the Lich and then…the P.A.?

Another X.

There was that mysterious male voice. Oh, you’re the one who told me about the P.A.!

The man nodded. He bowed his head regretfully, as if apologizing. Then, he went back to miming talking lips. He repeated this for a while. He was probably apologizing for what he said back then… I tried to recall our conversation.

Hey, who are you?

Well, I was planning to reveal my identity to you later down the road, but…we’re scheduled to meet in less than a month, you know. At least, our minds will.

Aww, come on. There’s no need to put on airs now. You could just tell me now, and it’ll be just as good.

You’re taking this very much in stride…

It’s because you don’t seem like a stranger to me.

All right, then. I’ll tell you. My name is— 

That was where our conversation ended. The fact that he was apologizing now must mean…

You’re sorry that you won’t be able to make our meeting?

Another nod.

You wanted to introduce yourself, but it’s hard because you can’t talk?

More nodding.

The man in front of me was the owner of the voice that spoke to me from time to time. But then, why couldn’t he talk today?

The man dropped into his Unleash Potential pose and pointed at himself, then got on his knees and stuck out his tongue like he was moaning.

Is it because of Unleash Potential?

Using Unleash Potential had the same effect on this man as on the P.A. 

He posed like he was swinging a sword and…now his arm was up in what looked like the Snake Fist pose? He extended his arms, put them together, and then opened them like a snake’s mouth. The mimed snake looked like it was blasting something from its mouth.

Sword, snake, blast…?

“—”

The man pointed to the butt of his sword. The hilt? The snake came out of the sword’s hilt and wrapped around it.

I get it! It was that fight with Valuza! You said you would seal the energy that I released that day…!

“—”

That blast of energy, and Unleash Potential, had taken this man’s speech.

Are you inside of me?

He nodded.

Are you the voice I heard on the first day of my reincarnation?

He nodded.

I knew it. Now, there was something I absolutely needed to ask.

Who are you?

The question had been on my mind since I got here.

He heaved a sigh and shook his head. Explaining himself was going to be difficult.

Will we meet again?

The man pointed up, and I followed his gaze. The ceiling had disappeared, and the moon was hanging above me.

The moon…?

Why now?

I recalled that our first conversation was on my first day of reincarnation, before the episode with Unleash Potential. That meant it was around the time of the last Festival of the Moons. And now the festival had come again.

Does it have something to do with the Festival of the Moons?

He nodded.

I was right. Which meant— 

Will we meet again at the next one?

The man grinned, and then stuck up his thumb.

He was fading now, and I was sad that it was over so fast.

Wait, I still have questions!

The man replied with another bow of apology. Then, he vanished. Our time had run out.

Just when we’re getting to the good part!

And with that final yell…

Huh…

Uhh, what happened? 

My sight cleared along with my thoughts.

I looked around and found that I was still in the kitchen. There was unfinished curry bread in front of me. 

Was that a dream? I didn’t know a sword could dream. I didn’t need sleep—couldn’t, in fact, even if I wanted to. Did I daydream then? It felt like something similar had happened in the past…

I checked the clock. Not a single minute had gone by. I felt like I had been spirited away.

Was I really dreaming…?

Despite my doubts, I was sure my vision was no dream. That man existed, and we’d actually had that conversation via charades.

The next Festival of the Moons is in three months. I hope you’ll feel like talking by then, mister.

He said he was inside me. I was sure that he could hear.

***

“I heard something went wrong with our plans again. What is going on?”

“I’d like to know myself. I sent one of the Ythra thugs over to the orphanage, but he came back spouting nonsense.”

“What kind of nonsense?”

“He said he was suffering from a deadly disease, and it was his last day on earth. I knocked some sense into him, though.”

“And then? Don’t tell me that was enough to put a stop to all our plans.”

“Of course not. But then something happened during the ritual. The mercenaries haven’t returned.”

“Mercenaries? You mean my men?”

“Yes. You said I could use them however I saw fit, did you not? So I obliged. I think his name was Boran.”

“Ah, Boran. He’s strong, but he also has a good head on his shoulders. He has accomplished more than all my other subordinates. You’re saying he failed?”

“He hasn’t reported back, that’s for sure.”

“Something’s going on out there.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“Boran should have no trouble dealing with the city guards and low-rank adventurers. There has to be someone else involved…”

“Indeed. Either way, we were unable to either kidnap Charlotte or stop the Fiend Crusher ritual. The slum folk who consumed the Fiend Water are mostly cleansed of its effects now.”

“Damn it. Could things get any worse?”

“Don’t go about tempting fate. Our Cure Turmeric was stolen, Charlotte got away, the people have been purified…”

“It’s like someone knows our plans… Or is it coincidence?”

“I don’t know… It would appear our plans are being scuttled by someone who knows of them. Actually, the Chimera Soul I had delivered to the Ythra Trade Association was stolen the other day.”

“Really?”

“I asked my contact, since delivery was taking too long. Apparently, it was sent with the Cure Turmeric.”

“You mean to say that whoever stole the Cure Turmeric also stole the Chimera Soul?”

“Most likely. Those fools at Ythra are saying they’ll make it up to me and find another bottle…”

“One that can match the Soul Essence of a Chimera? I doubt it. That thing’s worth millions—no, even more. You destroyed everything else when you left the Raydossian Alchemist Guild.” 

“I know. This is why I detest working with laymen. I made it very clear that I wanted it found, but I doubt if they’ll have any luck.”

“We’ll have to reformulate our plans.”

“We have no other choice.”

“How I wish these strange occurrences would stop.”