Chapter 1:
The Search for Garrus
CLANG! Clang! Clang!
Alarm bells rang in the night as a large crowd of people ran toward safety. It was a normal reaction, given that a dangerous prisoner had just escaped from death row.
“Lady Miriam! We’ve received news of his last sighting!”
“Where is he?!”
“The military docks, ma’am!”
“Impossible!”
How was he at the docks already? I’d even posted more guards there!
“Carla, we’re heading down there!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
He’d managed to escape a maximum-security prison. He must’ve had help on the inside.
“Is he alone?”
“No. There are reports of him with the murderer brothers…”
“Confound it! They were in the same cell?”
“They escaped together. The guards have already suffered casualties.”
“At least we know where they’re going.”
“The Sea Dragons?”
“Valussa, to be specific. They’re still contracted. He’s going to take his Sea Dragon and run.”
The Sea Dragon-class vessels were Seedrun’s strongest battleships. We only had two actual Sea Dragons left to run them, which left only two vessels: my sister’s Warnate and my Aqouis. Wishkar, my uncle’s former vessel, was currently out at sea. My fool brother’s dragon, Valussa, was being treated after the damage Fran had done to it.
“We have to stop him from boarding Valussa.”
Valussa was still hooked up to its ship and, since we couldn’t get a new captain to form a contract with it, still connected to my brother. He couldn’t have picked a better time to break out of jail. Stealing Valussa must’ve been his plan all along.
“We can’t let Suarez take our Sea Dragon…!”
***
We left Ulmutt and ran toward Bulbola. Of course, Jet did most of the running, while Fran and I just rode on his back. The roads were beginning to look familiar. It had taken us four days to get to Ulmutt, so I was sure we would could make it back to Bulbola quicker.
As it turned out, that wasn’t to be. Two days later, we were most of the way there, but we ran into something we couldn’t ignore.
“H-help!”
“Eeek!”
“Gaaargh!”
Lesser Wyverns surrounded a band of merchants. The monsters were no match for us, but they were more than enough to terrify the businessmen. The sight reminded me of the Lesser Wyvern I fought back in the Demon Wolf’s Garden, back when I had just reincarnated. I fought it to the point of shattering, so I could only imagine the fear the merchants were feeling. There was a whole flock of the drakes, too. Over ten, at least.
“Jet.”
“Woof.”
At Fran’s signal, Jet broke into a full sprint.
“Oh gods!”
“As if those winged lizards weren’t enough, there’s a direwolf now, too?!”
“We’re done for!”
The sudden appearance of a giant wolf threw the merchants into further panic. None of them expected help to come riding on such a beast. They ran, although they looked like they’d given up. As panic turned into despair, they slowed down. Fran called out to reassure them.
“Friendly.”
“Wait, what? A girl?”
They finally noticed Fran.
“I-Is that your wolf, little lady?”
“Hey…you’re the Black Lightning Princess!”
“Hm.”
They knew Fran well enough. Now that their hope had been rekindled, they ran faster. Not bad for people whose main priority was money. At least it was better than curling up into a ball and crying.
“You guys need help?”
“Yes!”
“Please!”
“W-we’d really appreciate it!”
I wasn’t expecting much of a reward, but leaving them to die would haunt me in my sleep.
“I get to keep the materials.”
“Of course!”
“We’ll pay you!”
“Not handsomely maybe, but…”
“Shut up, you idiot!”
“What if she leaves us to fend for ourselves?!”
“Guys, she’s a high-rank adventurer! Do you really think we have enough money to pay for her services!”
“W-we may not have enough money now, but that can be arranged…”
The men were hopeful enough to start arguing. Was it all an act to get a price cut? It didn’t matter. I would’ve saved them for free, but if we did that, we risked getting underestimated in the future. If word got out that the Black Lightning Princess had a soft spot for innocents in trouble, a lot of not-so-innocent people would take advantage. But there was one problem: we didn’t know the going rate for saving people from immediate danger.
What do we do, Teacher?
Quoting a random price would only cause problems down the line. We’ll put aside the issue for now.
“Pay me later. In the meantime, you can discuss how much you think being saved is worth. I’ll take that as payment.”
“Huh? Uhh—”
“Now get going. You might get caught up in this.”
I buffed us with support magic and we ran faster. Before the merchants had a chance to open negotiations, Fran and Jet left them in the dust.
“Wait—”
“What should we—”
“Can we get a baseline price—”
Even as we left them behind, they were still shouting at Fran for a quote. I hoped they could settle that themselves, since we had no idea…
Maybe we were being too harsh. In effect, a C-Rank adventurer had asked how much their lives were worth. Pay Fran too little, and they risked rumors of their insincerity and cheapness, which would really spell the end of their business careers. Perhaps we should’ve told them to pay us at market rate.
Well, it was too late to worry about that now. We had Lesser Wyverns to kill. The monsters were little more than wild animals, and they felt Fran and Jet’s presence as an immediate threat. They stopped chasing after the merchants and hovered over us, glaring down from their vantage point. Whether they charged us or fled, they knew they were dead.
“Teacher.”
What’s up?
“There’s something I wanna try.”
What?
“Kanna Kamuy.”
Uh-huh…
We had tested the skill in dungeons before, but never in actual combat. When we’d used it at the fighting tournament, it was restricted by a barrier. Now was a good time to see what it could do.
“Let’s fire a shot and see what happens.”
Alright. I’ll get it ready, so make sure those drakes don’t get away.
“Hm.”
Kanna Kamuy was a Level 10 thunder spell, and very difficult to control. The slightest mistake in the incantation and I’d have to start all over again. That was probably why my version was significantly more powerful than Fran’s. The casting only took half the time for me, too. I had Speed Thinking, Double Mind, and Mage to thank for that.
There was one other problem. Casting Kanna Kamuy gave Fran fierce headaches. The first time she tried it, she got a nosebleed. The load it placed on her brain was just too much. I never wanted Fran to use it again. A spell which took such a great toll on her mind sounded like it might also shave a couple years off her life. Which meant that I was on Kanna Kamuy duty. As Fran and Jet Intimidated the Lesser Wyverns to prevent them from escaping, I focused my mana.
Okay, I’m good to go!
“Hm. The merchants are at a safe distance, too.”
There was no threat of them being caught in the explosion. I released the spell.
Kanna Kamuy!
A brilliant pillar of white lightning fell on the Lesser Wyverns. The spell’s destructive power was more visible out in the open. The light split the sky open and even seemed to singe the clouds. The flash was followed by an appropriately loud crack of thunder. The lightning was bright enough to blind, and its thunder loud enough to deafen. It caused a rumbling that reverberated to the pit of your stomach, like the descent of a furious thunder god.
Fran and Jet covered their ears, but the merchants could only shriek in fear. When the flash of lightning dissipated, Fran and Jet tilted their heads to look at what was left of the battlefield. I would’ve done the same, if I still had a head.
“Huh?”
“Woof?”
Oh?
The Lesser Wyverns were completely obliterated.
I guess that was too much.
There wasn’t a trace of them, not even ashes. All that was left was a crater, fifteen meters in circumference. The center of it had crystallized into glass, and the surrounding forest wasn’t spared from the lightning, either. What wasn’t disintegrated was burnt to a crisp and scattered by the explosive force of the thunderbolt. Using this spell in a city would spell disaster for hundreds of people.
Let’s not use this unless we absolutely have to.
If we had allies with us, they definitely would’ve been caught up in it. Even the merchants didn’t escape completely unscathed. The loud blast certainly damaged their eardrums and they were screaming in terror. Fran hurried to their side to administer healing magic.
I don’t see any crystals left, either.
“What a waste.”
“Woof.”
Jet barked in disappointment, having been denied fresh (or even burnt) wyvern meat.
“You okay?”
“…”
“…”
After Fran had healed the merchants, they got back up and surveyed their surroundings.
“Oh, uhh…”
“Thank you…”
“So about that payment…”
It took a while before they came back to their senses, and their faces were still pale. The spell was too intense for a civilian. Given the devastation we’d caused, there would be no bargaining. The merchants were probably still frightened for their lives.
“I’m so sorry, but the three of us only have 50,000G on us right now…”
That was quite a lot, but I guess it was necessary considering their trade. 50,000 didn’t sound like much to them—employing a high-rank adventurer must cost a lot more. Fran beat an A-Rank in the tournament, so she must have been worth more than the average C-Rank. Still, she consented to the price.
“I’ll take it.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Hm. You still got hit by my spell.”
Our experiment had hurt them, even though we managed to heal them in time. Having threatened their lives, it was only reasonable that we gave them a discount.
“Th-thank you very much.”
“You saved us big time!”
“We mean it!”
The businessmen thanked us, despite having to hand over all the money they had. The market rate must’ve been a lot. We parted ways and went ahead of them, still on the same highway. We planned to clear the way, not as an after-sales service, but just so they wouldn’t get in trouble again.
As we walked along the road, we found people marching from Bulbola to Ulmutt. The squadron looked too lightly armed to be knights, but they were far too uniform to be an adventuring party. Their discipline suggested that they were not your run-of-the-mill bandits, either. But they were certainly armed, and broadcast a violent atmosphere.
Well, what now? Hopefully, they would let us pass without batting an eye… But things might get hairy if they decided to pick a fight.
“Do we take a detour?”
No, they might misunderstand that.
We were already in their sights. Dropping off the main road would make it look like we were running away. We didn’t know what they wanted, but any suspicious moves on our part might provoke them.
Just be ready for a fight.
“Hm.”
“Woof.”
Jet slowed down, and we walked toward the mysterious squadron. As we drew closer, the unit readied their weapons. I even spotted an archer among them. They were wise enough not to attack on sight, mainly because we weren’t broadcasting any murderous intent. The unit wasn’t particularly strong, so they had every reason to be cautious. Each individual was around the same level as an E-Rank. Their leader might be on the cusp of hitting D-Rank.
Their gaze was fixed more on Jet than Fran. Fair enough. A powerful direwolf would give even the sleepiest of vanguards cause for concern. Jet was nothing more than a cute big dog to us, but to the unacquainted he was a gigantic menacing wolf.
Fran, get off of Jet and start walking. We don’t want to spook them.
“Hm. Got it.”
Jet, get in the shadows.
“Woof.”
Jet shrank and melted into Fran’s shadow, eliciting a startled cry from the squadron. Fran walked toward them. I readied myself to teleport us above them and rain down magical death if things went south.
Fran kept walking. Fifty, then forty, then thirty, then twenty meters. As we passed them, the leader of the squad called out to Fran.
“H-hey! You!”
“Hmm?”
“Where’d that wolf go?! A-anyway, how dare you just walk by us without saying a word!”
“Hi. Bye.”
“Get back here, girl!”
Oh boy, here we go again. What should we do? They were weak enough to be cut down and forgotten about, but…we still didn’t know who they were.
“You’ve never heard of the Dimmel Squad?”
No, of course not. Were all mercenaries like this? Fran frowned; their behavior reminded her of the Blue Pride group we encountered back in Ulmutt. I don’t think we’d met a single decent person among the mercenary class. I supposed it was a last-ditch occupation, which attracted the attention of outcasts from all walks of life.
The man leaped from one question to another, starting from Fran’s identity, to Jet’s whereabouts, to what lay ahead on road. He was getting increasingly frustrated at Fran’s flippant treatment, speaking louder with every word.
What now, Teacher?
Hmm. Just ignore him, I guess.
Just as we were about to move on, something stirred behind the vanguard. Backup had arrived, and there were enough of them now to present a mild threat. I charged my mana and observed the situation carefully. If it came to it, we might have to wipe them out.
“What’s the holdup, Vasque?”
“Dad—Boss. I was interrogating a foreign element.”
“Interrogate? Our job is to exterminate the Lesser Wyverns that are terrorizing the highway. Did you find a bandit scout?”
“Not exactly, no…”
“Then what is it? We didn’t come out here to play!”
“I’ll squeeze whatever information I can out of her, just wait a minute!”
Squeeze information out of Fran, you say? Interesting. I’d love to see you try. We could kill him and use the rest as target practice for Fran’s thunder magic. She looked like she was on board with the idea. She squinted and dropped into a ready position. As soon as the fighting started, she’d lop off Vasque’s head. After that, the squad would scatter.
Their leader sensed our growing battle urge. He pushed his son out of the way and stepped forward. Did he want to see who his enemy was? A single glance at us and he turned pale. The man turned around and punched his son squarely in the face.
“Gah! What are you doing, Dad!”
“You idiot! You stupid, stupid idiot!”
“Urk! Gah!”
He followed up with enough kicks to knock Vasque unconscious. The other mercenaries could only stare at him in confusion. We could relate. Did he think Fran was nobility?
“I am truly sorry for what my foolish subordinate did! We are no threat to you! Please forgive us!”
The men were even more startled now—their leader was on his knees, apologizing as if his life depended on it. He must have mistaken Fran for somebody important.
“On your knees, you lot! Now! Or I will cut you where you stand!”
The order was absurd, but the threat was not. The other men slowly got to their knees and bowed. The gesture was obviously insincere, but we dealt with it.
“I truly apologize for the rudeness of my men, Black Lightning Princess.”
I guess he knew exactly who he was talking to. Fran was famous enough now that mercenaries didn’t want to get on her bad side. At the very least, their boss knew that she could wipe them out with little more than a gesture.
“Th-that’s her?”
“They say she shows no mercy to her enemies…”
“Mess with her and you’ll get turned to dust…”
The mercenaries’ dissent soon dissipated. The Black Lightning Princess, for her part, did not care a tussle.
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Bye then.”
“We wish you safe passage!”
The mercs sent us off with uncharacteristic politeness. I guess we could let them off, since they didn’t do Fran any harm. But why was the leader so terrified? Sure, Fran was stronger than all of them combined, but his fear seemed a little disproportionate. I wondered what kind of rumors were already circulating about us.
***
A day later, we arrived at our destination.
It’s been a while, Bulbola.
“Hm.”
“Woof!”
A month later, and we were back. We passed through the gate and walked through the city. A month shouldn’t have been enough for any significant changes, but Bulbola was different. The town was nearly destroyed during the Fiend outbreak the last time we were here, but there was barely any rubble left. The repairs must’ve gone exceedingly well. It didn’t even look like a giant archfiend had blown up half the city.
Let’s start by visiting our acquaintances.
Our main goal was to get on a boat to the Beastman Nation, but it wasn’t like we had to go right away. We had enough time to visit our friends.
“Hmm!”
Fran nodded enthusiastically. First stop, the Chefs’ Guild.
I wonder if Meckam’s in.
“Hrmph.”
Come on, you still don’t like the guy?
Fran had yet to forgive Meckam for his initial harsh review of my curry. He looked like he walked out of the pages of a cooking manga, so I didn’t mind him. We converted him in the end, so there was no more reason for Fran to bear a grudge. Was she still upset?
“I’ll show him that your curry is universally delicious.”
The way she phrased it made it sound like the gourmet was a rival. Unfortunately for Fran, Old Meckam wasn’t in. Fortunately for me, it saved us the trouble of another argument.
Too bad.
“Hmm…”
Fran was disappointed. Just as we were about to leave, the receptionist called out.
“Fran, may I have a moment of your time?”
“Hmm?”
“Since you and your teacher qualify for a promotion, I would like to update your guild card.”
I forgot that Fran was registered in the Chefs’ Guild. We only did it so we could participate in the cooking contest. But why had we qualified for a promotion? If placing in the cooking contest was enough to rank us up, we should’ve gotten the promotion before we left. I didn’t remember doing anything else of note, either. Fran shared my bewilderment.
“How come?”
“The curry recipe the two of you developed has exploded. It’s only a matter of time until it spreads all over the country.”
“Wow.”
That was wonderful news. Fran was glad to hear that she could soon have curry wherever she went, and I was sure variations of my recipe were already being developed. I could use them as inspiration to create new recipes, which meant Fran could enjoy even more curry. Selling our recipe to the Lucille Trade Association was the right choice.
“Your economic and cultural achievements have qualified you for the Silver rank.”
I felt a little awkward about it, since all I did was copy an old Earth recipe. But there were no drawbacks to the promotion, and so we gladly accepted it.
“Here.”
“You have both of your cards on hand, I see.”
“Teacher asked me to take care of his.”
“May I pass your teacher’s card to you, then?”
“Sure.”
Fran exchanged our cards for two silver ones. The Chefs’ Guild was still in the analog era, and the cards didn’t have a trace of mana in them. Then again, maybe the Adventurer’s Guild just had a monopoly on fancy cards.
“Should you decide to conduct business in Bulbola, you will receive the full support of the Chefs’ Guild.”
“Alright.”
“However, if you don’t conduct any activities or develop any new recipes, you will eventually get demoted, so be careful.”
I see. Good thing we came here today. I didn’t mind getting demoted, but since we’d just gotten to Silver, it seemed like a waste of time.
Teacher?
Hmm. Let’s register a new recipe.
Our curry gave us enough points to get us to Silver, so perhaps a new recipe would work just as well. But which one?
What do you think we should give them, Fran?
Fran was a perfect measure for what the inhabitants of this world liked. Her tongue was reliable—if her favorite food was spreading, I was sure that whatever she picked would enjoy similar success.
Hmm…katsudon?
Katsudon…right.
It was another of Fran’s favorites. Fried foods were a rarity in this world, especially those that came with eggs on top. Soy sauce was also a rare condiment and it was difficult to substitute. I certainly hadn’t seen anything that came close to mimicking it.
I took Fran’s suggestion and we handed the recipe to the Chefs’ Guild. I could already see chefs deciding how to season the katsu. It could easily become as varied as curry.
The receptionist seemed to be a gourmet herself, and inspected the ingredients with great interest.
“This…this is amazing. Innovative, but with so much room for variation. A dish that uses rice and shoyu… These are not common here. Wonderful. Shall I register this recipe for you and your teacher?”
Not only was the concept for katsudon strange, but she’d complimented us on our use of the exotic ingredients. An increase in demand for rice and shoyu might even create a minor boom in the economy.
“Hm. Please.”
“Very well, I’ll register it into our database immediately. I have a feeling this is going to be in popular demand.”
“You think so?”
“Yes! You’ve established your names already, so there are a lot of chefs waiting for the next big thing. I daresay katsudon is going to take Bulbola by storm!”
I hoped so. I wasn’t going to tell her, but I had a hunch that imaginative cooks would soon combine katsudon and curry to make katsu curry. We left the Chefs’ Guild, and she sent us off with a big smile on her face.
That took longer than expected. Where to next?
“The orphanage.”
Oh yeah. We should drop by and say hello.
I was curious to know what had happened after we told Amanda about them. Hopefully the kids were doing a lot better, but we were shocked when we arrived. The formerly rundown house was no more. The building was freshly renovated. In fact, it looked like a whole new complex. The fence was a lot sturdier, and the garden was beautiful and inviting with freshly planted flowers and trees.
“Jet!”
“Fran!”
Good thing the kids were still the same. They ran over to us with the same innocent smiles. Their clothes were in a better state of repair this time. Everything fitted perfectly, and the fabric was no longer riddled with moth-eaten holes. Good old Amanda. She really didn’t hold back when kids were involved.
“You’re back!”
“Let’s play!”
“Jet! Let me fluff you!”
The kids still remembered us. They had been playing in the garden and immediately asked Fran to join the fun.
“Why hello, Fran.”
“Io.”
Having heard the commotion, a woman stepped out of the orphanage. Io was the orphans’ caretaker. She acted as a kind sister to the children and was also a talented cook.
“Thank you so much for your help. The kids are so much happier and we’re doing a lot better now.”
Io bowed deeply, though we insisted that we didn’t do anything. Amanda was the one who saved the orphanage.
“Perhaps, but Lady Amanda told me about how you asked her to help us.”
“That’s the only thing I did.”
“And the kids love your teacher’s curry recipe. We have curry day once a week and everyone looks forward to it.”
“We love Ms. Io’s curry!”
“It’s super delish!”
Io could make garbage soup taste like consommé. I was curious how much better her cooking was now that she had access to decent ingredients. Curry day was tomorrow, and Fran asked if she could join. Io agreed to prepare portions for both her and Jet. This was going to be good.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“We’ll be waiting for you.”
“See you soon!”
“Bye, Jet!”
“Hm.”
Fran left the orphanage with a bounce in her step. She was looking forward to eating with the orphans.
Can it be tomorrow already?
It’s still the afternoon, Fran.
What now? We could track down a ship at the LTA. The only other people Fran knew in this town were adventurers, most of whom were still in Ulmutt for the tournament.
“Garrus.”
Right. We should go look for him.
We promised that we would see him again when we got to Ulmutt, but the Bulbola reconstruction effort got in the way of that. That said, there was a good chance that the blacksmith was still in town. If he’d packed up and gone back to Ulmutt, we would have run into him already. There was only one road connecting the two cities.
But how do we look for him?
“Adventurer’s Guild?”
That could work.
Adventurers were always looking for a skilled blacksmith. Maybe we could get information on his whereabouts there. We could also visit the Blacksmiths’ Guild, since Garrus would need to check in to work in Bulbola.
Let’s hit the Adventurer’s Guild first.
“Got it.”
The guild was like home to Fran now. She had placed third in the fighting tournament and was acquainted with Gammod, the local Guildmaster. They wouldn’t turn her away.
We were on our way to the guildhouse when Fran and Jet suddenly stopped to look at the surroundings. Was there something amiss? They looked unsettled.
What’s wrong?
“I smell curry!”
“Woof!”
That explained it. Bulbola was in the middle of a curry boom, and street food stalls were getting in on the action. Fran floated to it like a bee to a fragrant flower. Her entire being longed for curry. If someone set a curry trap, I was sure she would willingly fall for it.
“Welcome!”
The stall was definitely selling curry but, strangely enough, they only had chopsticks.
“What’s this?”
“This here’s our specialty curry noodles!”
The cooks of Bulbola had already reached the noodle phase of curry development. Judging by the look of it, they had cooked the noodles in the broth. I wondered if the noodles would get too soft, but I was still interested. Fran wasted no time in buying two bowls—one for her and one for Jet.
“Here you go, Jet.”
“Bark!”
They dug right into their afternoon snack.
“Slurrp.”
“Munch munch.”
Fran lapped it up without so much as pausing.
Aah, don’t lick your lips! Wipe them with your napkin! And Jet has curry all over his muzzle, too! Well, I guessed he could be excused for eating the only way he knew how. I knew Fran liked the noodles, but I asked her anyway.
How is it?
“Good.”
“Woof woof!”
The noodles weren’t too soft?
“Hm.”
They must have been specially made for the curry. An extended interview revealed that the noodles had the texture of shirataki or glass noodles. Very impressive. I didn’t think they’d develop such an interesting dish so fast! I couldn’t wait to see what concoctions the other shops were selling.
We made our way to the Adventurer’s Guild, stopping at some food stalls here and there. Fran and Jet were satisfied with every purchase. In fact, they were so entranced that what was supposed to be a thirty-minute walk became an hour-long stroll.
We’re finally here. Time to get some info.
“Hm.”
The guildhouse was bustling with activity. There were still adventurers who gave Fran weird looks because of her age, but she held them in equal contempt.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure, how may I help you?”
While the receptionist didn’t know Fran, her etiquette was perfect. I couldn’t help but appreciate the guild’s standards.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“I see…”
The receptionist paused and gave it some thought. This wasn’t really a job for adventurers, but she still helped us.
“Would you like me to introduce you to an adventurer who is likely to have information? You can negotiate the rates later.”
An informant adventurer? We would love to know one regardless. It sounded shady, but I was sure the guild endorsed him for a reason.
“That works. Can I see him now?”
“Of course. He’s over there.”
The receptionist motioned to a lone adventurer who was standing a couple feet behind us. He seemed to have been listening, waiting for his name to come up. He grinned and greeted us with a casual wave.
A quick Identify revealed that he was a middle-aged scout. While lacking in combat prowess, he more than made up for it in detection, stealth, and negotiation. The adventurer definitely looked like he would make a reliable informant.
“Hey there. Heard you’re looking for someone.”
“Hm.”
“I mostly work the capital, but I’ve got a pretty good handle on the happenings in Bulbola.”
Mostly worked in the capital? I didn’t know adventurers could do that. If the capital was as big as Bulbola, they could make a pretty nice living there.
“Anyway, let’s get a table so we can talk. By the way, the name’s Reggs.”
“Fran.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Reggs sat us down in a corner of the guildhouse. He was casual, without underestimating Fran.
“So who are you looking for?”
“Garrus the blacksmith.”
“Aaah, the esteemed blacksmith himself, eh?”
“You know him? I want to know where he is.”
Reggs recognized the name, at least. We might be able to meet old Garrus sooner than I thought. The only thing left to negotiate was the price.
“Name your price.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Hmm? Why not?”
“One, I don’t have valuable information about Garrus—certainly not enough to charge the Black Lightning Princess. Besides, I’ve already come out ahead in this deal simply by making your acquaintance.”
No wonder he was so polite. The informant was worth his salt. He could probably hear faster than he could run. Reggs proceeded to tell us what he knew about Garrus.
“He was definitely in Bulbola ten days ago.”
“You’re sure of this?”
“Yeah. He was doing maintenance on the Guildmaster’s equipment.”
“I see.”
Garrus had taken a contract with the Adventurer’s Guild itself, but no one knew where he went after that. Reggs thought that the blacksmith had already left Bulbola.
“But he wasn’t in Ulmutt.”
“You’ve had no contact with him, either?”
“Hm.”
“I see. There are a few possibilities.”
Reggs counted them one by one on his fingers. First, there was the chance that something had happened to Garrus between Bulbola and Ulmutt. Like being attacked by monsters or robbed by bandits.
“But the highway was crowded thanks to the fighting tournament, and the road had more patrols posted on it than usual. I find it hard to believe that no one’s managed to spot him.”
Besides, Garrus was well trained in Hammer Mastery and Fire Magic. His hammer wasn’t just for smithing.
Another possibility was that something happened to him in Bulbola. He was an expert blacksmith, which could make him the target of slavers or underground syndicates.
Next, there was a chance that Garrus had undertaken some kind of confidential contract. The old dwarf tended to take jobs that pleased him, but maybe he was approached by a powerful noble or the royal family. He would have a difficult time refusing them, even if he wanted to. If that were the case, he might not be allowed to communicate with the outside at all.
Finally, he could just be swamped with work and forgot to get in touch with us. A plausible situation for a prolific craftsman like Garrus.
“I’ll look into it,” said Reggs. “Give me a day.”
“Thanks. Anything I can do to help?”
“Not really… I do my best work when people don’t see me coming. But do you know our Guildmaster, by any chance?”
“Hm.”
“You could ask them for information. And ask at the Blacksmiths’ Guild, too. No digging or espionage required.”
Reggs would probably do the digging for us, once Fran got him the initial information.
“Sure.”
“Alright. See you tomorrow.”
“Hm.”
After a quick debriefing, we parted ways. He charged a flat rate of 30,000G, regardless of what he dug up. It was a little higher than market rate, but Reggs assured us that he would be worth it. The rogue waved goodbye and left the building.
Let’s go and see what Gammod has for us.
We were already at the Adventurer’s Guild anyway, so we might as well visit the Guildmaster.
“Hm.”
We showed our guild card to the receptionist and asked to meet him. She processed us immediately. She had overheard our earlier conversation with Reggs. Fran’s moniker was well known throughout the Adventurer’s Guild now, and the receptionist’s former politeness was amplified. After a moment, someone showed up to lead us to the second floor.
“Been a while, little lady. I heard you had a lot of fun in Ulmutt.”
“Hm.”
Waiting for us in his office was the former A-Rank and Guildmaster of the Bulboa Adventurer’s Guild, Dragon Hammer Gammod. We had fought alongside him during the Fiend Riots. Armed with stout stature and an even stouter hammer, the dwarf was powerful enough to knock the giant Linford out of the sky.
“I would’ve watched you fight if I didn’t have to deal with the mess here.”
“Can’t be helped.”
“I would’ve loved to see how you took down Phelms! Those strings of his are more than a neat trick.”
The two former A-Ranks lived in the same city and had probably worked together. With nicknames like Dragon Hunter and Dragon Hammer, it was even likely they’d teamed up.
“You know Phelms?”
“Of course. Phelms is my old partner, you know.”
Gammod and Phelms really used to be in a party together? The A-Rank party Dragon Killers was quite legendary. Bragging about your party was cringe-inducing, but when you were an A-Rank it all sounded quite cool.
“So, what brings you here today? I doubt you just missed my face.”
Gammod was fast on the uptake. Fran asked about Garrus.
“So you’re looking for him…”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Sorry, but I don’t have a clue.” Gammod shook his head. “He did maintenance on my weapon ten days ago, so I know he was still in Bulbola then.” But Gammod hadn’t kept in touch with the blacksmith afterward. “He mentioned something about going to Ulmutt…but he didn’t say when he was leaving.”
“I see.”
Another dead end. With Gammod at a loss, we decided to go to the Blacksmiths’ Guild. Just as Fran got out of her seat, the Guildmaster called out to her.
“By the way, do you have something against mercenaries?”
“Hm?”
“I heard some weird rumors.”
“Elaborate.”
“About how the Black Lightning Princess hates mercenaries with a vengeance and goes out of her way to wipe them out. How ruthless she is about it depends on who you ask. Some say she fires a barrage of spells as soon as she spots one. Stuff like that.”
That’s what people were saying?
“There’s some mercenary bands in town and they’re all terrified. They asked me to make sure.”
“I don’t hate mercenaries in particular.”
“Oh, you don’t?”
“I beat up everyone who makes an enemy of me.”
“I see…”
“Hm.”
Fran did have a track record of wailing on mercenaries. Now that I thought about it, the first adventurer who picked a fight with her was a former mercenary. And then there was Blue Pride, the Blue Cat mercenary crew we ran into in Ulmutt. The Beast King wiped them out, but people who didn’t know the details might have attributed it to Fran.
Given such rumors, Dimmel Squad could be forgiven for being scared of her. The mercenaries we met on the way back to Bulbola knew they were up against an adventurer who could destroy them with ease, and worse, an adventurer who reportedly had some kind of personal grudge against them.
“I’ll tell them,” said Gammod.
“Please do.”
“Also, I have a job for you, if you’re up to it.”
“A job?”
“Yeah. You’ve clashed swords with some A-Ranks. I was wondering if you’d be interested in showing off your strength.”
Were there dangerous monsters that needed exterminating? Whatever it was, I hoped it wouldn’t take long.
“We have some promising adventurers here, but I want to show them what real strength is like. I was hoping you’d be interested in sparring.”
“Can’t you do it yourself?”
We didn’t know if we could beat Gammod. He said he would’ve had a hard time beating Phelms, but Phelms was a chef now, while Gammod was still Guildmaster. I could still hear the thwack of his hammer ramming into Linford’s body. If all he wanted was a show of strength, that would be enough. But Gammod shook his head.
“I’ve known them since they were kids. They’re too used to me and Forlund beating them. Tomorrow morning’s all I need. You in?”
Teacher, can I take this one? Fran sounded motivated. She had to be interested in Gammod’s star pupils.
I think it’s a good deal. Gammod will owe us after this, too.
“Hm. I’m in.”
“Nice! I’ll let the kids know. They’re all older than you, but still! Bust their noses open for me, eh? Ga ha ha!”
“Hm.”
Fran worked out the details with the Guildmaster before leaving the Adventurer’s Guild.
Next stop, the Blacksmiths’ Guild.
“Hm.”
We wasted no time asking where it was. The Blacksmiths’ Guild was located close to the harbor to allow for transport of ores and minerals, but we had to make one more stop before heading there.
We need to buy liquor.
“Where?”
A liquor store, I guess. We could check out some pubs and ask if they’re selling by the bottle, too.
Gammod had advised us to bring a gift if we were visiting. The Blacksmiths’ Guildmaster and higher-ups were mostly dwarves, and as such appreciated alcohol. They acted much like the dwarves I’d read about in the fantasy fiction back home. Hopefully we could bring them a drink that would make their beards stand on end.
I just hope there’s a good liquor store on the way.
“When are we stopping by Phelms’?”
Oh yeah. The Dragonhead is right around here, isn’t it?
Fran reminded me of the former A-Rank turned master chef. We weren’t too far from his restaurant. Maybe they had some decent alcohol.
Let’s stop by. The man already gave us a free meal ticket, anyway.
“Hm!”
It was a good time for lunch, so we headed off to Dragonhead.
“Can’t wait.”
“Woof woof!”
Fran skipped all the way there, knowing the deliciousness that was in store for her. Jet was going to be a problem, though. Restaurants didn’t usually allow normal pets in, let alone wolves. Phelms was acquainted with both Fran and Jet, but he would be hard-pressed to make an exception. I explained the circumstances to Fran and she reached her cruel conclusion.
“Stay in the shadows, Jet.”
“Arf…?”
No. The shop’s small enough as it is. I don’t think they allow ordinary pets in, anyway.
“Woof…” Jet pleaded to Fran with tearful puppy-dog eyes, but his cuteness wasn’t going to work on her today.
“No.”
“Arf…”
Utterly dejected, Jet took his time sinking into the shadows. I would have to cheer him up later with some equally good food. With Jet’s tiny rebellion out of the way, Fran set her eyes on the Dragonhead. She never forgot the location of good food and knew exactly which paths to take.
Good to see it’s the same. Not too loud, but not too shabby.
The shop was tucked away in a nice corner and had all the charm of a trendy restaurant. I would’ve had a hard time walking through its doors back on Earth. It reminded me of a classy French restaurant, tucked away in an obscure corner of a residential area.
A small name plaque was posted above the doorway. A window on the side allowed passersby to peer in. The place hadn’t changed a bit. Fran opened the door and went inside.
“Welcome! Table for one?”
“Hm.”
“Right this way.”
“Thanks.”
“Unfortunately, our head chef is away at the moment, so we won’t be able to serve you the entire array of our menu. Will that be alright?”
The waitress handed us a short menu. Normally there were over thirty dishes for sale, but right now there were only five.
I guess Phelms isn’t back yet.
Fran had fought the Dragonhead head chef only a few days ago in Ulmutt, and he probably didn’t travel as quickly as we did. In the meantime, cooking duties were assigned to his sous chef, but he was still in training and couldn’t prepare as many dishes as his master. The house specialty, Dragonbone Soup, was still available—Phelms had made sure to stock up before his departure.
“I’ll have everything on the menu.”
“Umm, all of it?”
“Hm. All of it.”
“Our portion sizes are quite generous. Are you sure?”
“Yeah, no problem. I’ve been here before.”
“A-alright then.”
“And here.”
Fran took out Phelms’s meal ticket and handed it to the waitress. Her eyes grew wider than plates and her hands trembled. She was making a really big deal out of a single meal ticket.
“Th-this is…”
“Phelms gave it to me.”
“I knew it! This is the legendary Immensely Invaluable Person Meal Ticket! Otherwise known as the Super VIP Ticket!”
Wow. That good? It looked like an ordinary coupon to me.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no! The owner’s away and that idiot’s the one doing the cooking! He’s not even a fraction as good as our owner! If his cooking upsets the Super VIP, Phlems will have our heads!”
The waitress didn’t pull her punches talking about her colleague. I assumed “that idiot” was Phelms’s pupil. I felt sorry for the poor guy.
“You don’t have to do anything special.”
“No! We can’t just serve something ordinary to someone with the Immensely Invaluable Person Meal Ticket…!”
Actually, this was a good opportunity. I felt slightly guilty about exploiting our superior position, but maybe we could use her panic to our advantage.
Fran, ask her if we can have some liquor.
“I’ll have some of your liquor, then. A bottle of your best should do it.”
“Yes, ma’am! Alcohol, right? I’ll be right back!”
The waitress left without taking our order. It felt like an actual offense. Whether we told Phelms about it would depend on the quality of alcohol.
Five minutes later, the woman returned, clearly out of breath. She brought a bottle of wine, encased in a beautiful wooden casket. The bottom of the bottle was wrapped in red velvet and screamed high quality.
“This is the greatest wine produced by the best vineyard in all of Granzell! This bottle has been preserved with magic for a hundred and twenty years!”
Okay, I don’t think we’re worthy of this wine!
“Unfortunately, we don’t sell this bottle in our restaurant…”
“Then how’d you get it?”
“The bottle came straight from the owner’s private wine collection! He is quite the connoisseur, you see!”
Whoa, no, stop. Phelms might actually have her head for that. I didn’t want us to be the cause of his bad mood. We refused her mad offer and asked her to bring the best wine they actually sold.
A bottle was worth 10,000G. It didn’t sound too bad. It was expensive enough to be high quality, and I didn’t think Phelms would stock his shop with bad wine. It was the perfect gift. Five bottles would do nicely.
“Are you sure this is enough? The owner has better wine in his cellar.”
“It’s fine. Anyway, I’m hungry.”
“Aaaah! O-of course! I-I’m so sorry! We’ll get your food ready right away!”
The waitress finally remembered to take Fran’s order. She rushed away to the kitchen, head still bowed in apology.
Is that girl going to be alright?
“Hm.”
You know it was bad when even Fran was worried. At least we got some nice bottles of wine out of it. After cleaning all five of her plates, Fran washed it down with a cup of tea.
How was it?
It was nice.
Her appetite was proof that the food was delicious. Still, she looked oddly satisfied. The chef came out of the kitchen. He was a stern-looking man with a shaved head. His angular face made him look much older than he was. This was “that idiot.” He came out of the kitchen to greet the owner of the VIP coupon.
“H-how do you find your meal?”
Despite his terrifying appearance, he was very modest.
“Phelms’s is better.”
“I-I see…”
Fran just came out and said it. She was never one to flatter. Actually, I didn’t think she knew how. I just hoped the chef wouldn’t feel too bad about it.
“How can I make it better?”
The man was more resilient than I thought. He asked Fran for advice without a hint of regret. He took out a notepad. He wasn’t an idiot in the kitchen, but he was probably an idiot about cooking. We’d do him a favor by giving straightforward advice.
Since I couldn’t eat any of it, Fran would be the one doing the critique. She’d been a slave for a long time, and most food was delicious to her. That said, she could still distinguish tasty from tasteless. An ordinary person might have five grades of deliciousness: Delicious, Tasty, Okay, Not Bad, and Bad. Fran also had five grades, but hers were more like: Super Delicious, Delicious, Okay, Not Bad, and Inedible. She calmly told the young chef which parts of his cooking needed work. Thanks to our maxed-out Cooking Skill, the advice was valid.
Twilight had fallen by the time we left the restaurant. The young chef was gathering himself off the floor after Fran’s harsh critique. He took it like a man to begin with, but soon collapsed under the weight of her words. I wished him all the best.
“What is it, Teacher?”
Nothing. We need to get going to the Blacksmiths’ Guild.
“Hm!”
Having broken the man’s spirit, Fran went on her way. Once we’d entered the blacksmith’s district, we immediately spotted the guild. It was a large building with a chimney. Men as hard as hammers walked through its doors. This was the place alright.
That one.
The emblem in the building’s plaque was two crossed hammers. We pushed open the heavy doors to find quite the intimidating atmosphere. The hall was dimly lit and the ceilings were low, making the guildhouse look more like a cavern. I could hear the clang of metal and the angry shouts of men. This was no place for the fairer sex.
“Hrmph. What do you want?” the receptionist grunted, lacking all the manners of the Adventurer’s Guild. The macho dwarf glared at Fran to make her go away.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“That’s not what we do here. Try the Adventurer’s Guild.”
Oh, but he sounded so cool. It reminded me of a bartender saying, We don’t serve that here, when the protagonist asks for milk. An ordinary woman would leave. Then again, he was probably equal in his treatment of outsiders. Men and women alike would flee for their lives. But then, Fran wasn’t your run-of-the-mill civilian.
“I’m looking for a blacksmith named Garrus.”
“Never heard of him. We done here?”
“No.”
This looked just like my old hardboiled detective adventures… I was tearing up. But the conversation was getting nowhere, so we brought out our present to grease the wheels.
“Bring me someone who has heard of him. I’ll make it worth their while.”
“Will you now?” The dwarf perked up as soon as he saw the bottle of wine. “What do we have here…?!”
The receptionist reached for the bottle, and Fran pulled it away. The dwarf glared at her, but she kept her cool and stowed it back into Pocket Dimension.
“Get me someone who knows Garrus. Someone who knows where he is.”
“Hang on…” The receptionist retreated to the back room for a good ten minutes. “Come with me.”
“Hm.”
He led us into a room in the basement. The door was large, but the room still felt a bit cramped—as though the door was too large on purpose. The only sources of light were in its four corners. Bottles of alcohol were strewn about the table, making it look more like a pub than an office.
“Here she is, boss.”
“Thanks.”
This must be the Guildmaster’s office. The dwarves must’ve really loved their hard drink to give us such high treatment—Fran hadn’t even introduced herself yet. Then again, maybe it was because we mentioned Garrus. Fran took out a bottle of wine and passed it to the receptionist.
“Hey now. You sure about this?”
“I have more.”
“Alright then. Don’t mind if I do.” The dwarf’s glare turned into a megawatt smile. This one definitely liked his drink.
“You brought wine?” asked the Guildmaster.
“Hm. It’s a gift. Take it.”
“Well then. Looks like I have another reason to treat the Black Lightning Princess well. I was afraid you’d blow up our guildhouse.”
He knew about Fran, even if that knowledge was limited to her appearance and her nickname. I could think of several reasons why people recognized her. Adventurers, and by extension anyone who worked with them, would know that the Black Lightning Princess had entered Bulbola. The blacksmiths outfitted all races and knew the abilities of each. One look at Fran told them that she was an abnormally strong Black Cat. Even the most businesslike blacksmith could sense her strength.
When Fran told the Guildmaster we were looking for Garrus, he frowned. That was the reaction we were looking for. I got the feeling he knew where to find him.
“Are you Fran, by any chance?”
“You don’t know?”
“I only know you as the Black Lightning Princess.”
“Yeah. My name is Fran.”
“And you were called the Swordceress before?”
“Hm.”
Why the need for verification?
“I see… Unfortunately, I don’t know where Garrus is.”
Teacher?
Truth. The Guildmaster genuinely didn’t know.
“I do have some information about him, but I must ask you not to tell a soul. Top secret stuff.”
“Hm. My lips are sealed.”
“I hope they are. Garrus is on a confidential task, commissioned by nobility.”
“Elaborate.”
“I don’t know the details…but suffice it to say it isn’t possible to turn down a powerful family. He had to accept, albeit begrudgingly.”
Garrus couldn’t escape the influence of nobility, either.
“They kidnapped him?”
“Nothing that drastic, although they were quite forcible. It’s still listed as an official task.”
“I see.”
No lies here, either. No wonder we couldn’t contact him. He was on a confidential quest.
“He gave me a letter and told me to deliver it to the Swordceress Fran. He said to see you as soon as you came here…”
But the Swordceress was no more. Then again, Garrus couldn’t have foreseen that. The Black Lightning Princess bore no trace of her old nickname, making it more difficult for the Guildmaster to track her down.
“Here you go. Still sealed.”
“Hm.”
The Guildmaster hadn’t gone snooping.
“Don’t read it here. The guild would be in trouble if details to a confidential quest got leaked. I’ve poked my nose in enough times already.”
It sounded like holding onto the letter was enough to land the Guildmaster in hot water. He still got it to Fran in one piece, though.
“Tell him I said hello when you see him.”
“Sure.”
Fran took the letter and left the bottles of wine behind. We didn’t know what was in Garrus’s letter, so we would need some privacy.
It’s getting late. Let’s get a room at an inn.
“Hm.”
We decided to stay at the inn closest to the Adventurer’s Guild. The establishment allowed familiars, and we needed to be at the guild first thing in the morning.
“Nice room.”
“Bark bark!”
Of course it’s nice.
The room came with a bathtub and it cost 15,000G a night. Fran didn’t mind getting a cheaper room, but the Black Lightning Princess couldn’t afford to be taken lightly. I was still quite the show-off, even as a sword. Still, the fact remained that her nickname was making the rounds, and it’d be better for everyone involved if they didn’t underestimate Fran.
Let’s read the letter.
“Hm.”
Whoa, don’t just rip it open like that! Easy now.
Fran tore open the envelope and a piece of paper fell out of it, covered in Garrus’s neat handwriting.
First, he told us that some powerful nobles had made a personal request that he couldn’t refuse. He wouldn’t be able to contact us until the quest was over, and he couldn’t tell us his exact location. However, he was certain that he would be in the capital by the time we read this. He asked us to come visit the equipment auctions to see if anything caught our eye. Also, he was making us a new scabbard and wanted to give it to us soon. He would eagerly await our arrival.
And that was it. Fortunately, we were bound for the capital regardless. We wanted to check out the crystal auctions.
Guess he’s not in Bulbola anymore.
“Hm. One more reason to go to the capital.”
Pretty much.
Meeting Garrus was our main reason for stopping here, but I guess he would have to wait.
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