“Didn’t you use floating screens before?” asked Agravain as the angel perused the very much physical tome.

She was not flipping the pages so much as commanding the pages to flip itself, while hovering her hands over the rapidly moving parchments.

“Gotta keep up the appearance, you know,” she said, strongly suggesting it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I’m still an angel after all. A book is simply more setting-appropriate.”

So she said, while still slouching in her tracksuit.

To be completely fair, floating screens of unknown material would no doubt raise more questions from the locals than just strange attire.

It worked on Soraya, at least. The young princess was staring in complete fascination at the pictures and text written on the codex’s parchment.

“Can you find my sister’s location with this?” she asked in a voice full of wonderment.

“I said this was the book of everything and anything, didn’t I? Of course I can. Though there are certain rules. The method I use to gather and update the information in here can’t track other Player Characters’ activities. Literally anything else in the realm of mortal knowledge is fair game. Just give me a name. Ayesha, is it? Hmm an Ayesha of house Macaeda, let’s see, First Princess of the Tartarian Empire.”

“Macaeda, you say!” Agravain cried.

“Yeah?” Soraya was startled.

This went beyond being convenient. So that was what that name was: he had heard it once before, during the jumble interrogation full of confusion with the palace guards. They had used that name then, prompted by the similiarities of his appearance with those of the royal family.

The pages of the Codex Of Everything and Anything was flipping at dizzying speed.

On and on.

And then it stopped on the very last page. An empty page.

“No good,” Jophiel said, “I can’t find her.”

“Wait, then is she...” Soraya paled.

“Nope, not dead. This thing records even those who have passed away. Unless she had been captured by some eldritch creature to another universe, my best guess is she got involved in the Quest in some capacity.”

“Wait,” Agravain pointed out, “Didn’t you say only people summoned from another world can look for it?”

“Well, in this case and so early into the game at that, it’s most likely because she’s used as a hook for one of the other Player Characters. Just like Soraya here.”

Soraya pouted, “Then what do we even use this book for?”

“Quick to judge, aren’t we?” the angel arched an eyebrow. “You could think of it as slight blessing, though. By pursuing the Mundane Egg, we would find her eventually along the way. And incidentally, that’s my main job and all, gunning for that Egg.”

Soraya did not look much more convinced. “But where do we even begin to look?”

“That’s where this place comes in!” Jophiel declared, as though it was the most natural course of action ever. “We use this place as a base of operation. There’s so much we can find out by setting out blindly in any direction. Nope, this is the kind of thing the network of a state is necessary. Or at the very least a wide net of informants and scouts to every corner of the world to seek information for the Egg.”

“Eh? That’s a bit, you know,” Soraya frowned, “I have some personal funds from my estates, but it’s not enough to sustain something on such a scale.”

“Not yet, anyway. As I said, this place serves as a starting point. You can build it up from there. It’s not like the Egg’s location would be revealed in a day or two. This gang being situated in a heavily trafficked port can only work to our advantage.”

It sounded awfully like she was passing the responsibility to someone else, but Agravain was not one to talk. He had begun to tuned out of the conversation, having already long decided to wipe his hands clean from anything not involving punching a guy.

“Very well,” the nodded with a strong sense of irresponsibility, “do what you like. When you find it, if you ever find it, I can just beat anyone who stands in our way.”

“What!” the angel eyed him sidelong, “what are you, a sloth? Look, you are going to work hard because of your dumb class. Yeah, I’m gonna work you to the bone, train you up, and obtain all the necessary equipment so we can kick the first Player Character’s ass coming along. Understood?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he gave a tremendous yawn, “as I said, do what you want. I’m fine with punching and kicking stuff. But that’s enough for me today. I’m spent, remember? We can start doing whatever training you want tomorrow.”

“Whaaat!” with an even longer shriek than before, she pinched his ear and started dragging him along out of the room. It didn’t hurt at all. Nor did he move an inch. “You won’t fight but there’s a shitload for you to do around here. Need I remind you that your class is shit? It’s shitty! Come along! We must start recruiting! Why won’t you move you ass!”

He was standing rooted in place, and tried as she might, either because of her immaterial nature or inherent weak physicality, the angel could not get him to budge. He was busy judging the situation, scanning the room.

Soraya was giving a forlorn look.

“Hm, where is it?” After a while, his eyes caught what he was looking for in a corner.

It was stuck under the table so he hadn’t seen it at first--Soraya’s wheelchair. Unlike the ones he was used to in his original world, this one was made entirely of wood and amply padded with cloth and cushions, and still were light enough for the user to move the wheel themselves.

It took the girl by surprise, but effortlessly the barbarian transferred her over before she could voice a protest. God knows how many times he had helped his sister with this, so he was used to it.

“It’s fine, you know,” she said sheepishly. “Just go do whatever you have to, I can wait here.”

“Nah, you are in this now. So you are going to have to be involved in everything I do, you hear? Take responsibility as my summoner!”

“Eh? What a pain!”

So she said, but Agravain knew her, or at least her doppelganger on the other side, well enough to know when she was happy inside.

They exited the room.

It took some convincing to get the crime boss, Mauven, to recognize Soraya as the princess. Even then, he was not sure if the guy bought it wholly.

“Of course, boss,” the man said, “Whatever you and your friends want to call yourself.”

He probably didn’t buy it one bit after all.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t,” the barbarian shrugged, “I’m going to toss you somewhere out of sight anyway, or if Soraya’s so inclined, in her palace’s dungeon.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you don’t get to decide that by yourself!” Jophiel cried.

“I do actually, I’m the boss here.”

“Yeah, but I’m the boss’s manager, so whatever I say, goes.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I’m saying this guy can be of use.” She slammed the Codex on the table. Again the pages flipped by itself.

As he sighed, Agravain caught the former crime boss’s glance at the self-flipping book. The man had been told by the angel to go stand at a corner and had obliged without complaint. If he found the magical device or the sudden appearance of an angel strange, he didn’t betray any strong reactions.

This time it arrived at a page somewhere in the middle. The portrait of the man himself was neatly painted on the page in black ink, and following it were several lines denoting his name and information.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Mauven

Class: Merchant

Focus: Charisma, Intelligence

Trait: Expert Tradesman, Adept Diplomat, Silver Tongue, Frail, Coward, Shrewd.

“Curious, eh?” the angel asked smugly, “Well, the first two traits you see here are called vocational traits, calculated from your various skill levels. You can just look at the traits to assume what someone in this world is good at. The Expert descriptor means he’s among the top five percent of this country in the field. You can usually expect to see them in the service of kings and other heads of state.

“While vocational traits act as the base for how well he does his job, the other traits act as various modifiers. For example, Silver Tongue adds to his Charisma and Leadership, or more practically, improves prices when purchasing or selling goods. The others, Coward and Shrewd all add nice bonuses to his job as a merchant. There are almost as many traits as there are people out there, so it’s not always useful to compare one with another, and it’s not like their whole personality is reflected in such few words, but think of it as the most vital part of one’s resume. Their core when the fluff is stripped off.”

“Well, so?”

The angel sighed, “What I’m saying is, not only is it rare enough that you can get someone this good at his job to serve you, but this trait combination on its own is simply way too good to pass off. The trait Frail basically is not a beneficial trait as it reduces his combat skills, but this works to our advantage, since he would be just as less likely to betray us. Get it now?”

Agravain looked sidelong at the man still quietly standing in a corner of the room. Just like when he was prostrating, the man seemed obedient enough, but that was how someone who was shrewd would like to appear.

“I still feel like we can’t trust him.”

“Well, this would help, somewhat.” Jophiel balled her fist, then unrolled it again to reveal a pair of rings within. One was embedded with an emerald stone and the other with a white crystal.

“As you are now, you won’t be able to make effective use of many of these, so use them sparsely,” she said and held up the emerald ring, “this one is the master ring. The other is a servant ring. They don’t have any binding magic in them or anything. But a connection will be established between you and the ones wearing servant rings. It helps me read deeper information in them and other advantages. Your contracted servants can still betray you of course, hell, they may even work with your enemies behind your back, but the connection works like a non-aggression pact. As soon as they seek to harm you in some way, you will be alerted that the connection has been broken.”

“So I wear this, and be the master, and those who wear rings like the other one will be my servants? Isn’t this just like in--”

“Shut up! Don’t say it out loud! Don’t even think about it!”

“Fine.”

He called the former crime boss over and explained the use of the ring to him.

“Sure,” Mauven said simply and slipped it on his finger.

The guy clearly didn’t buy it at all!

What a rational and clever guy.

So this is what they meant when they say smart people are usually stupid in some ways.

Having done musing the nature of his new employee, Agravain turned to the angel, having just then remembered a vital issue.

“So you want me to employ him, but to do what?”

“Run this business, duh! He’s good at this job, so just let him keep doing what he’s doing, while taking a cut and using the profit to send spies out to search for the information on the Source of Magic.”

“Hm, I don’t know, Jophiel. I mislike the business he’s conducting. Of course it is all just business to him, but Iranon was quite adamant that his organization worked as nothing more than daylight robber.”

Speaking of, he wondered where that bard had gone.

He gave the room a quick scan, but that youth was truly nowhere to be found.

“Hmm,” Agravain lifted his head, “Isn’t that him?”

And by “that”, he meant a scream just then rising to high heaven.

For a moment, Agravain hesitated. Wouldn’t it be better to leave Soraya behind to go investigate the noise alone? There was no way he could tell if he would be able to protect her while dealing with what danger down there.

But then he thought, what the hell.

He could just punch the shit out whatever it was.

There’s such a thing as being too cautious.

So with one swift motion, he hauled the little princess overhead, wheelchair and all. The whole mass must have weighed two hundred pounds, yet did not burden him much more than a puppy would have a normal person.

In that acrobatic manner, he carried her downstairs, jumping two steps at a time while the girl was screaming her lungs out.

By the time he had reached ground level and Soraya’s shriek had died down, Iranon’s rose to a crescendo new. He followed the sound to the front hall, and then to the storerooms in the building’s wing.

All along, the bard’s scream never ceased, though at times faltered before rising anew. Guy did have a powerful voice. That’s a singer for you.

Soraya’s eyes went wide as they crossed the hall strewing with bodies. “Did you kill all of them?”

“Hmm? I think some. Most of them are probably just sleeping.”

A very deep sleep, at any rate.

Only when he had crossed into the wings and was searching the room was the bard’s desperate plea for help silenced. In its place, the muffled sound of him kicking and struggling led them to an unlocked door.

Since the door was left open, he could peer inside and saw the youth lying at the opposite wall, all tied up and gagged. He was still conscious, fairly energetic even, seeing that he could still thrash mumbling inarticulately behind the gag.

As though the bard was trying to tell him something.

There was around him a messy assortment of crates and random junk, some had been toppled, broken and scattered. He must have been trying to look for his harp before entering into a struggle with whoever had tied him up.

There was no one else in sight.

Hm, how suspicious.

Better investigate.

The barbarian boldly strode into the room.

As soon as he had crossed the threshold, something came down on his head hard.

No, not just a trap or anything, judging from the trajectory and the force behind it, someone had swung a hard object, as large as a board, at his head with all their might.

Geez, he really should’ve expected this.

Maybe next time.

Having promised himself this, the barbarian turned around to look for the culprit behind the sneak attack. Meeting his eyes was a glare containing unmistakable hatred. The owner of the glare was holding up a chair’s back in both hands. A girl, who judging from the look could not be much older than Soraya.

Now this was a dilemma, he couldn’t bring himself to just thwack the girl’s face. Call him old school or whatever, but Agravain just couldn’t do it. True, one of his victims back in his violent teaching days had been female, but he had plenty of reasons to be angry then.

The strike, though without any holding back on the girl’s part, had not caused him much trouble. He could not muster enough anger to just punch her.

As though reading his mind and reluctance, the chair came down again without hesitation, squarely aimed at his forehead.

No scruple at all!

It struck his temple so hard, sending splinters clattering on the floor afterward.

“Rania!” Soraya finally wheeled into the room with a cry.

“Princess!” the girl called Rania dropped the chair at once and leaped for her princess, inserting herself between her princess and the barbarian. And turning about, she gave him that scathing glare again.

“Now, now, I’m fine, totally fine,” Soraya poked the girl’s back. “Oh, and don’t worry, Agravain. This girl is my handmaid. Rania, say hi. He’s the one I summoned, remember? He’s just saved me from the bad guys too.”

The girl really struggled to follow this order. For a good second she glared Agravain up and down, until it seemed to her satisfaction that he would not make any sudden move, she took a step back, and gave a curt bow. “I thank you. I understand that it was thanks to you that the princess is safe.”

“Hey Soraya,” the barbarian said with doubt, “are you sure she understands? She’s still glaring at me hard.”

“Oh right,” the little princess struck her own temple, “I was wondering what was missing. Can you look for her glasses, Agravain, it must have dropped somewhere.”

“Sure.”

The bard was still struggling on the floor.

“Just relax, I will be done in a minute,” he grumbled. “Here it is.”

The pair of glasses lay in a corner, the drop seemed to have scratched the rims, but thankfully the lenses were still intact.

“Still, I must say, Iranon. It is kinda embarrassing that not only did you get beaten and tied up by a girl, the best you did in retaliation was knocking her glasses off.”

Really embarrassing.

“Oh come one, I just didn’t expect a girl to come for me with a chair like that,” the bard spurted out as soon as his mouth had been freed from the gag. “I mean, what ordinary girl would tie me up so calmly even when I was screaming for help! She’s weird, I tell you!”

The weird girl had commenced wiping her glasses with a handkerchief, not saying so much as a word in protest.

“I apologize,” she bowed again, “I didn’t realize he was here to help the princess.”

“You don’t seem sorry at all--”

Agravain cut the bard off with a pat on his back, hard.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “he didn’t help any, now that I think about it.”

The entire time Iranon had just been collecting loot. And now that Agravain thought about it, was there any point in having him pick up spare coins when they were just going to take over this place’s business anyway?

What a waste of time.

“Aww,” Soraya was examining her handmaid’s back, “Your hair is all frayed, and I took care of your braid so well too.”

Seeing them like this, the princess fussing with her little fingers around the handmaid’s long braid, one wondered which one was the lady, and which the servant. Rania at the least didn’t seem to mind, she allowed Soraya to attend to her hair without protest, while standing rigid and scanning the room. Now with her glasses on, her face had relaxed and the glare was gone. Though still appearing formal, or should he say, professional? she was not on guard anymore.

And, this perhaps was rather slow of him, but only then, when her braid had been fixed and her glasses put on that he recognized the maid as that girl who helped Soraya escape back when he was confronted by the palace’s guards.

“She was trained in personal combat, you know,” Soraya said, “so it’s understandable that your friend was caught off guard.”

Looking at the bard rubbing the places the rope had bitten into his flesh, Agravain shrugged. “I’m not sure if we are even friends,” the barbarian said, “how come you got caught then, with a servant who could fight on your side.”

“Ahaha,” the little princess laughed weakly, “I accidentally wandered away and gave them the slip, I guess.”

Accidentally?

Not that he would scold her for it. For someone who spent most of her life confined in the palace, she probably just wanted to experience a bit of her rare freedom when she was at it.

“Ah, right, Rania,” the princess suddenly tapped the handmaid’s back, “Where’s Lamia? She’s fine, right? I can’t imagine someone like her would come to any harm.”

“Oh her,” Rania clapped her hand. “As soon as there were sounds of fighting outside, she called one of the thugs over and choked him with her legs. Then she got me free and went to rescue you.”

With her legs?

“Another of your handmaids?” Agravain asked the princess.

“Aye. Then I wonder where she is now. You don’t think she got caught...”

Someone dropped on Agravain’s head.

Or rather, phased through the ceiling over his head.

Jophiel clutched his head while still floating midair. “Be quick! Someone’s murdering my rare character!”