Ezra’s feet beat against the muddy road. “Typical, of course it goes wrong!”
Through the rain, Ezra spotted flashes of blue and green striking at Nobinar and his group.
He took a step closer and Nobinar shouted out, “To your left!”
Ezra dived forward into the mud. A breeze rustled the back of his cloak while wide eyes watched him as they passed. He picked himself up, snatching a glipse of the creature and its tag.
Rainstalker - Lv. 36
A sleek, low shape, its glossy hide reflecting the downpour like a living shadow. Its limbs were long, webbed claws. The rain cascaded off its body, distorting its outline before it melted back into the storm, vanishing as though it had never been there. Only the ripples in the puddles where it stood betrayed its passing.
“Ambush predator,” Ezra muttered. “Luckily for me…”
The trick when hunting an enemy with camouflage was never to find the whole creature—it was to find the small tell. The flash of color or shadow that gave it away.
And Ezra was very, very good at spotting small details like that.
“[Recall].” Filamenta appeared in his hand as a needle.
He reared her back and tossed her forward. The needle sailed through the air before hitting the creature in the head.
703/1000
Not as high as usual. He’d probably gotten the aim off. The color moved and disappeared into the rain. He ran forward, the glimmer of metal through the rain guiding his direction.
He jumped up, recalled Filamenta into his hand, and aimed down.
“[Air Attack]!”
He shot down, piercing into the Rainstalker’s vital organs. It let out a whimpering cry and fell over.
No EXP. He looked back and saw that the rest of the group was doing well, if not amazingly. They were sticking close together, leaving no openings. It was a smart strategy. It was also boring as hell.
Ezra squatted down, circling the wagon. If he was lucky…
A flash of blue. It was focused on the group, too busy to notice him. He approached the Rain Stalker and sprung forward, stabbing it in the back of the neck.
It cried out and jumped forward. Nobinar cleaved through the creature in a single go. He looked at Ezra and gave a quick nod.
The rest of the fight went much the same way. Ezra wasn’t able to finish the kill for most of them—probably because they kept jumping away and into that mage girl’s fireballs or Nobinar’s sword.
[You’ve leveled up!]
By the end of it, he was seriously irritated by the fact that he’d only gone up a level. Nobinar didn’t see it that way, apparently.
“That was excellent work, One-Eye,” Nobinar said. “We might’ve risked injury there, but the way you keep pushing them into our trap really kept them from being able to do any damage.
“Ah, yes, that was totally on purpose.”
“If you need a hand with something, call me up. I’d be glad to assist,” Nobinar said.
----------------------------------------
The rest of the night was painfully awkward. Ezra had wanted to get more grinding in, but he didn’t feel like testing his luck with Filamenta. He decided to go to bed early for once. He laid his head on the crappy pillow and remembered something.
He hated group projects, and this was why. When you had a partner, they would always raise objections and get in the way, thinking they knew better. This was obviously assumed, as Ezra always knew better. For now, Ezra didn’t have a choice. Filamenta was his ticket to the defeat of the Demon Lord. Her abilities were immensely useful and he’d grown to rely on them quite a bit. Could he make do with something else? Absolutely. He was tempted to figure out some way to break their bond and just pick up a sword or something.
But no, logically speaking it was better that he tolerate her for now. Perhaps, when he grew powerful enough, he’d be strong enough to throw her away. Right now, however, she was more useful to him as a weapon than as garbage. The next morning, he went through his normal routine. Filamenta was sat on the bedpost. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she sighed.
“So? What do you have in mind for today?” she said.
They were just going to pretend that last night hadn’t happened? That worked for Ezra.
“Simple.” He slipped his boots on. “I want to get to the bottom of these rumors that have been circling around me. I’m rather fed up with them.”
Filamenta wandered over to his shoulder and took up her normal place there.
“You’ll need a disguise,” she said. “Something that’ll make you unrecognizable.”
“Good idea.”
The words tasted like hot ash on Ezra’s mouth, but he figured he could say something nice. Just this once, to make sure she didn’t whine more.
“Finally listening to my advice,” she said. “Wise decision.”
Ezra rolled his eyes and reached for the strip of cloth that he usually used to cover his eyes.
“What are you planning?” Filamenta said.
Ezra reached up and wrapped the strip of cloth around his forehead into a bandana.
He tightened it, then nodded. “The perfect disguise.”
He waited to hear Filamenta’s reaction.
“Ezra… please tell me you’re not actually planning to go out there with a bandana,” she said.
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“Why not?”
“You’re wearing the same clothing that you normally wear.”
“Yup.”
“Black jacket, same hair… same everything. Except you have a bandana.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
Filamenta was quiet for a few seconds.
“You know what?” she said. “Whatever. It’ll be fun to see this all blow up in your face. I don’t care anymore.”
Ezra walked out of the inn and headed for the city gates. Filamenta grumbled on his shoulder, continuing to say something about how stupid it would be if this actually worked like the eye disguise.
When he approached the city gates, he spotted none other than Dumrivil. The man was speaking to a loose conglomerate of locals and fellow mercenaries. Ezra had to give him credit, he had a better social life than Ezra did.
“You could have one too if you bothered to try,” Filamenta said.
Oh yeah, she can read his mind. Sometimes. Ezra hoped that ability didn’t kick in at an awkward time.
“Awkward time? Like what?” she said.
Nothing at all. What was Ezra thinking about? Oh yeah, Dumrivil.
Dumrivil glanced over at Ezra, then looked back at the person he was talking with. He clearly hadn’t recognized Ezra.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Filamenta said.
Ezra stepped up to Dumrivil. Filamenta darted away to behind his neck and under his jacket collar.
Dumrivil paused and looked at Ezra. “Hello?”
“Good sirs and ladies.” Ezra smiled. “I’m new in town. Could you tell me what’s the latest news?”
Dumrivil put his hands on his hips and faced Ezra.
“Why, you’ve arrived just in time for the annual cheese festival,” Dumrivil said. “Just a few weeks from now. You have good timing, sir!”
“He doesn’t recognize you,” Filamenta said. “I give up. All these people are idiots.”
Ezra ignored her to focus on the far more important thing: Cheese festival? But they already had the damned Metamora festival, like, a few days ago! As if on cue, ten people dressed in cheese-shaped costumes passed behind Dumrivil.
“This town is so, so stupid,” Filamenta said. “Seriously.”
“For once, I think I agree with you,” Ezra said, under his breath.
A person standing at Ezra’s side smiled. “I can’t wait to enjoy all the different cheeses. We truly have some amazing cheese brands here in town.”
“It’s kind of a weird thing to be known for,” a man with a long mustache said. “We have so much history, but our most famous event is a cheese festival.”
Ezra tapped his fingers against his pants leg. How was he supposed to bring this back around to the One-Eyed Merc?
Well, there was the obvious method of just asking.
“Hey, what’s all this business about a One-Eyed Merc?” Ezra said.
“Oh, the One-Eyed merc?” the man with the mustache cupped his chin. “I remember him, he’s the one who defeated old Dumrivil over here.”
Dumrivil winced like he’d been punched. “I have no idea what you’re talking about—“
“I was there too, yeah! The One-Eyed Merc was incredible! He was able to dodge and weave through Dumrivil’s attacks like they were nothing at all!”
A passerby joined in. “The One-Eyed Merc? He’s the lost prince of Cortia, right? I mean, they say that he was taken to a foreign land. This could be him!”
A woman next to the passerby laughed. “No, no! He’s one of the Demon Lord’s generals in disguise! I mean, have you seen the way his eyes glow? Not to mention, his weird weapon—that’s demonic, right?”
“Ex-Demon King general!” a man said. “He’s reformed! After all, why else would he have killed fifty lesser demons?”
The conversation grew both in intensity and absurdity with each passing second. Ezra’s left eye twitched and his lips formed into a thin line. This was not what he’d been expecting. Filamenta giggled and shook from her position on the back of his neck. She suddenly stopped, then gasped.
“I have an idea,” she said.
Ezra something sink to the pit of his stomach.
“Perhaps—“ she said, her voice loud. “He’s secretly a cheese golem brought to life by the spirit of the festival.”
Wait… she hadn’t spoken to Ezra.
She’d spoken to the group.
They all stopped, and the conversation came to a halt as they searched for the speaker.
“My gods, she’s right!”
“That’s an interesting perspective… and it would explain the yellow glow in his eyes.”
“Hold on!” A young man put his foot down. “But how would the needle factor in?”
Ezra’s hands twitched.
“You know that you’ve just added another rumor to the mill, right?” he said.
“Yes,” Filamenta said.
“Why?”
“Because it was funny.”
Ezra had never felt such raw hatred before.
“What if,” a younger voice said. “He’s an Otherworlder? They have special abilities, right?”
Ezra froze. Was he about to have his cover blown by some snot-nosed brat? After nobody else managed to see through him?
A few chuckles rang out from the crowd.
Dumrivil smiled and shook his head. “No, kid. Otherworlders are always sent to the front lines. Besides, around these parts, they’d stick out like these costumes that everyone is wearing.”
“Yes, besides, he’s a prince.”
“No, a Demon Lord general!”
Perhaps Ezra could contribute and steer the rumors in a better direction?
“Is it possible that he’s just a regular mercenary?” Ezra said.
A woman waved him off. “No way! You weren’t here to see it, but I saw how he took down Dumrivil. There’s no way a regular guy could do something like that.”
Dumrivil scratched his chin.
“Yeah,” Dumrivil said. “There’s something odd about him. When I fought the guy, his technique was amateurish. Yet, his reflexes were razor-sharp and his strikes were rock solid. It was like it was his second or third time dueling a human enemy. There’s a mystery there.”
Ezra’s mind worked quickly. He needed something halfway plausible. “Maybe he’s nothing more than a retired mercenary trying to settle down in a smaller town?”
“Retired?” Dumrivil scoffed. “No, those were the swings and attacks of someone who spends almost every day in combat. I don’t believe for a second that this guy is retired.”
“Maybe he’s just some wandering adventurer, then,” Ezra said. “Just some random person who’d prefer to stay anonymous.”
Hushed murmurs filled the air. A few people looked and nodded at each other. For a moment, it seemed like Ezra had gotten through to the crowd.
“I heard that he’s a shape-shifting dragon!” someone yelled out.
“That would explain the sharp reflexes!” a man said.
“Yes, yes, I see your point! I think this theory holds some promise!”
Ezra slammed his palm against his face. He was surrounded by idiots.
Dumrivil marched to the center of the ring and crossed his arms.
“I think the key thing to start with,” he said. “Is the needle.”
Ezra clenched his jaw. If he was outed, he’d get a bounty on his head and every single one of the mercenaries would be out to get him. Many of whom would presumably have tracking skills of some sort. Not good.
“Why would such a skilled mercenary use such an unusual weapon?” Dumrivil said. “It’s odd, isn’t it? A needle, of all things? I mean, really, what kind of a weapon is that? There has to be something more at play.”
So then, what was Ezra supposed to do? Could he stop Dumrivil? No, that would be as good as giving himself away. No, he needed to discredit Dumrivil somehow.
“I think there’s only one possible answer,” Dumrivil said.
But his conclusions made sense! Ezra didn’t have any strong answer for why the audience shouldn’t believe Dumrivil. Not at the moment, anyway.
Dumrivil grinned. “He’s a spy from the Red Lotus Clan! Think about it—he uses a needle, the traditional weapon of the clan!”
Ezra felt his soul leave his body at that moment. Filamenta vibrated on his back from laughter.
“You were so scared!” she said. “I could feel it rolling off you!”
“Oh, shut up,” Ezra muttered. “It seemed like he was onto something.”
Before Ezra could say anymore, Dumrivil slammed his fist into his palm.
“What’s more, I’ll prove it!” he said. “I believe I’ve found the local Red Lotus Clan hideout. I will raid it, and bring back evidence of the One-Eyed Merc’s deceit!”
Ezra raised an eyebrow. Now what could he be talking about? What hideout?
“But Dumrivil!” someone said. “Wouldn’t that be incredibly dangerous?”
Dumrivil nodded. “Indeed. It’s rumored that this hideout I’ve discovered is guarded by a great monster. However…”
He took out a coin and flipped it. The coin sailed through the air before landing in Dumrivil’s held-out hand. He slammed it onto the back of his palm, looked at it, then put the coin back in his pocket. He nodded and gave a thumbs up to the questioner.
“The Mistress of Luck is on my side!” he said.
He walked off outside the gate and the crowd stared after him.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” someone said.
“Didn’t he do the coin flip thing before he got his ass kicked by the One-Eyed Merc?”
Ezra sighed, then followed after him. He took off his bandana and wrapped it back around his eye.
“Oh? You’re following after him?” Filamenta moved back to his shoulder.
“That serpent thing is probably worth a good deal of XP,” Ezra said.
“And here I was thinking that you had more noble intentions,” Filamenta said. “Well, try not to blow your cover, mister Red Lotus Clan spy.”
Ezra sighed. The things he did in the name of his goals…