Chapter 126: Rewards of a Job Well Done
After their report was finished and submitted, the next day the team was summoned to the Adventure Society.
Mona Fenhu, the Adventure Society official that oversaw Nara’s examination, overlooked the documents along with somebody else, a new face Nara hadn’t seen before.
“This is Jago Dahl. One of the Adventure Society officials investigating the movements of Nekroz and related orders.”
“Call me Jago. Pleasure’s all mine, good fellows!”
Jago was a hearty man, a leonid of snow-white fur and light blue eyes. He originated from the north; a kingdom called Kallid. Like most leonids, he wore little; a brown pair of what looked like reindeer leather pants, and a furred cloak slung over his jacked shoulders, like it was originally a shirt that had ripped off his bulging muscles, forming a cloak instead. Nara wondered what the point of his coat was if he wasn’t going to wear it properly.
She knew the answer—it looked cool.
He one by one offered them a strong handshake before sitting back down, dwarfing his chair.
“You’ve gotten your hands on some vampire’s phylactery? Intact?” He asked.
“I have. You might want something to prevent the materialization process. I don’t really know how it works, but I’m guessing that’s what it supposed to do.”
“I’ve got you covered, lassie. Leave it to me.” He pulled out a crystal box, like a display case. The base was inky obsidian stone carved densely with glowing runes. Aliyah gazed at it curiously, but she wouldn’t be able to analyze the magic on it without having one to play around with herself.
Jago activated some magic on the cube, and the top panel popped off, allowing him to easily remove it.
“Just pop it right in here,” he said, gesturing to the box.
Nara did, removing the phylactery from her inventory. It was still crystalline and grotesque, the warped soul of a twisted vampire stuffed into a cube. Nara wondered if everyone else made any mention of it, since they did not seem to react. Did she see things differently, for some reason? Perhaps entrance into her Astral Domain afforded her greater insight?
She placed the phylactery in, and Jago placed the transparent crystal lid back on, the crystal sealing box at the edges.
“…Hello?” Siyu’s voice came from the box. “I can speak?” He seemed nervous, uncertain. It reminded of Nara of the time she spent in delirium, unsure of what was reality and what was another trick of the mind, a vision concocted of drugs and pain.
“How fascinating,” Aliayah said, gazing at the transparent container. “It allows for transmission of his voice.”
“It has to do with the properties of a vampire’s phylactery,” said Jago. “Wouldn’t work with much else.”
“A vampire’s phylactery was always meant to recreate their body.” Aliyah’s sharp mind concluded. “You’re borrowing that function. In this case, you’re utilizing it to recreate just the voice.”
“You’re spot on, youngin’,” He pressed a different location on the case, darkening the originally transparent crystal. Siyu’s voice no longer escaped.
To Jago, who was a gold ranker, everyone on the team was young. Aliyah didn’t mind, and Jago was affable and friendly. The snow white leonid may be covered entirely in white fur, but not from his age. If he was old for a gold ranker, Nara couldn’t tell. If he was old, he had the bulging muscles and frame beyond anything humanly possible, a juggernaut snowball.
“You have some papers for me?” he asked.
“Here they are,” Aliyah said, holding out the papers to him. “These are the originals. It’s everything we’ve found within Siyu’s secret storeroom—secret communications, rituals, timelines, reference books, research papers, and rough plans.”
“You’ve all done a mighty fine job as iron rankers,” Jago said, beaming. “Handled it all mighty fine. Well done, well done.”
The praise elicited mixed emotions from Nara. It wasn’t their fault, but a few townsfolk had died. She was slowly gaining a sense of the important role adventurers played in society. Towards the townsfolk, they were the local authorities—above even the real ones, if they didn’t have essence users maintaining peace.
The responsibility an adventurer chose was in some way chosen by themselves, and in other ways they had no choice. She could take on only 1 star monster contracts for the rest of her life; there was nothing wrong with that, and many adventurers did. There was beauty in that simplicity. Monsters were easy enemies. They had no good arguments, sympathetic backgrounds, or big pictures. No names. Sometimes, there was no choice. When a group of bandits attacks a town or when there is an invasion from cultists, what other options is there but to fight? As a person with the ability to fight back, running was criminal.
Siyu was a piece of trash that Nara spared no sympathy for. That would not be the case for future enemies that she’d no doubt see on 2-star contracts. Those born into cults, the thieves that stole for a better life, those blackmailed, those that went down with their families.
Had Eufemia not escaped Nekroz, would she have just been another vampire to be slain?
Jago was speaking in the language of the Shian Union for the benefit of everyone else here, but he had the clear accent of a foreigner. A sort of folksy, rough drawl that made it clear he was used to speaking an entirely different language. To a gold ranker, learning a new language took only days. They were superhumans in mind and body.
“Could you fine folks hand me your society membership cards?” Jago said.
The team glanced at each other but did so.
He hummed, glancing at each card briefly. Mona handed him some small device, that looked almost like a hole puncher. He clicked the device once on each card, his palm dwarfing the device.
“There you are.” He said, handing them back. “You’re all three star adventurers now!”
“Is that okay?” Nara said, unable to help herself. “Just like that?”
“No problem, no problem at all,” Jago assured. “Most of you are peak iron rank. It will only be for a while,” He leaned in, whispering, “Looks good for guild recruitment. Just a little something to help you all out.” He looked at Nara’s worried face. “Not the type to like politics, eh? I understand. I completely agree.” He gave her a reassuring nod.
Mona supplemented an explanation. “You handled a difficult investigation where others had failed, coordinated with the local authority in order to protect the townsfolk, and ultimately dealt with the threat. We find nothing to criticize in your performance.”
Stars on a guild card only lasted until rank up, at which point they had to be re-earned. Adventurers chasing fame or an official society position would complete high difficulty contracts to earn stars, but no one in the team had any desire to intentionally get themselves involved in political messes.
“Was the report insufficient?” Sen asked.
“It’s not that at all lad, do not worry! In this report, you evacuated all the townsfolk into your teammate’s storage ability?”
The team was silent as Nara debated what she should say. Jago’s attention made it clear he knew she was the one with the ability. As a gold ranker, he could tell from her aura. Strong as it was, it couldn’t compare in rank disparity.
“It’s my ability,” Nara finally said, “It’s not really a storage ability. Just something like one.”
“A whole town entered something like a storage ability? Your file didn’t have this ability in it.”
“It’s an Outworlder ability,” Nara said. “One that I prefer to keep to myself,” she added.
“I understand. If you are concerned the Adventure Society would ask you to use this ability beyond what you are comfortable with, there is no need. This is a volunteer organization. We won’t be asking you to separate from you team or constantly travel around this world to evacuate people. I ask in the case of emergencies that you are a part of, if we can rely on you.”
Nara’s brow knit with hesitation. She didn’t have any reason to distrust authority beyond her general distaste for the governments of Earth, as well as Oswald’s actions. He hadn’t even done anything terrible; he just trusted the wrong trickster, who by her own words, was acting for the good of this world. Nara didn’t care much for that mindset; she has had enough of those deciding they knew better than everyone else, that their will superseded everyone else’s.
She had accepted a lack of informational privacy of a lost cause on Earth, but now she did have some, and it was important to her—worth its weight in diamond spirit coins.
“Respectfully, mister Dahl, I understand your prospective of wanting as much information as possible. On my world, we’ve known for a long time that information is power. The rich and powerful are master manipulators of information, sparking both literal and culture wars with manipulation of information. During an emergency, as you say, I will communicate what I can and cannot do. However, mister Dahl, it is not an emergency.”
Nara was sure they’d conduct their own investigation for their records. The Adventure Society was thorough. She’d confirm nothing further.
Nara’s original stance in this world was to say as much as possible. If everyone knew what she knew, what she knew wasn’t valuable. For a fruit basket of reasons, that was no longer a viable fruit to juice. Knowledge didn’t want Earth science spreading prematurely. Nara didn’t have the requisite mastery to be written in the records of Erras as the mother, father, progenitor, and founder of electronics, biology, physics, quantum physics, and chemistry nor did she want to be. Her nature and Astral Domain itself were curiosities she’d rather not talk about, not only by the advice of Chelea, but of the already unwanted attention they’ve garnered her.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Total secrecy wasn’t an option either. She had exposed Astral Domain to protect the people of Crystal Quarry 6. She didn’t regret that. If she hadn’t, the monsters Siyu released would have killed hundreds. They would have ripped through the town that night, smashing houses to tear at the people within, to drink their warm blood and consume their hot flesh, driven onwards by Siyu’s vampiric command.
The Adventure Society had systems of evacuation that didn’t require her, so there she drew her line. It was a line carved of her experiences of this world; upon the blank stone slate that she once was, a new line had eroded upon it.
Nara stared down Jago Dahl. His lion eyes were the color of icy water just as spring warmed the soil and started life anew.
“I understand, lassie,” he said. “Us adventurers all have our secrets and misgivings. It’s our job as officials to work around them, not against them.”
“If the Adventure Society is genuine in this mindset, I’d appreciate no further question on my racial abilities in the future. Or I’ll resort to more extreme measures.”
“Extreme measures?” Jago chuckled. It was adorable that an iron ranker was threatening him. What could an iron ranker possibly do that he’d consider extreme measures?
“I’ve recently found out that whenever I try to spill some secrets about the science of my world, it calls down a rather miffed goddess. If the Adventure Society doesn’t try to spill my beans, I won’t spill the beans.”
Oh.
There was a knock at the meeting room door. Mona got up from her position to answer the door. She opened it to see a tired looking Knowledge priest, as if he had pulled consecutive all-nighters studying for an examination he could only take once a year. Mona gestured to Jago, and they stepped out into the hallway, activating a privacy screen for the three of them.
“High priest Dai Zhuko? What brings an esteemed fellow like you here?” Jago said. All High priests were at least gold rank; there weren’t many around Sanshi with its low magic. They were a gods most trusted followers, those that exemplified what they sought in the world.
“Mister Dahl,” he greeted, “My presence here is very simple. I am but my goddess’ messenger. Miss Edea is quite serious in her ultimatum and would prefer that the Adventure Society at large does not press her again on this particular topic. We know your stance on this, mister Dahl, but the Adventure Society is not a monolith. We are not asking for anything the Adventure Society does not already provide.”
“You want us to seal the information on her racial abilities. We don’t know much about them anyways. There isn’t much to seal.”
“And yet, the Adventure Society keeps asking.”
“If we seal it,” Mona thought through the priest’s proposition, “Those that are curious will think we have the information. Rather than ask her, they’ll go to the Adventure Society for it.”
“And therefore,” the priest concluded drearily, “Stop bothering her for what she does not want to provide nor knows.”
“She doesn’t know?”
“Mister Dahl, she is an outworlder from a world that has no magic. Her present lack of knowledge over how a racial ability only she possesses is expected.”
“And what if there’s an emergency? From the reports, it’s a portable and defensible position. Even if it has no defenses of its own, we all know the value of a chokepoint.”
“Mister Dahl, since when have Adventurers had to give up their secrets because it is an emergency, or provide aid beyond what they accept a contract for? This is only an issue because she is of iron rank. If she was a silver ranker or a gold ranker, the Adventure Society would not ask at all.”
Jago grunted his acknowledgement of the high priest’s point. “Fine point, high priest.” He had needed a reminder of that. It seemed like being a gold ranker had gotten to his head. “I can arrange for that.”
“Then, that will be all, mister Dahl. I thank you for the Adventure Society’s cooperation on this matter.”
“Everyone’s happy. That’s what matters. And I think it will be a relief to that lassie. She’s had a rough go of it.”
With his role complete, the high priest left, and Mona and Jago returned to the meeting room. Six sets of eyes were on him as he and Mona returned to their side of the meeting room.
“I will propose to the Adventure Society to seal your information, lassie,” Jago said.
“That is unusual. For what reason? Sen asked.
“It’s clear she doesn’t like being asked about her abilities which,” Jago held his furred hands up apologetically, “Is completely my fault. I get a little zealous. You know, I even got a talking to by a Knowledge priest.” Jago thumbed towards the closed doorway.
“Additionally, since you are a person of interest for the Advent,” Mona added, “Anyone asking for your information too insistently is suspicious. Those that do, we can investigate for ties to the Advent. If anyone presses you about your abilities, tell them about the Adventure Society seal and say you are not able to say.”
Jago held his hands out, wide grin on his face, “And so it all works out. We stop asking. Those that don’t stop have a little surprise coming for them.”
“That is a nice arrangement,” Nara said, pleasantly surprised. “I’m happy with that.”
“Other than that, just one last thing. Rewards!” Jago said cheerfully, “We have the standard contract payment, of course, but I happen to think a bronze rank evacuation and full town evacuation deserves a little more than the base pay. Can’t have others say the Adventure Society doesn’t recognize good work.”
“What rewards?”
“There’s the standard—money,” Jago said, rubbing his fingers together, “but there’s one other thing we think some almost-bronze-rankers may appreciate. We’re talking growth items.”
“You have some on hand?” Encio said, his voice clear with surprise. Even diamond rankers with all of their resources don’t get their hands on growth items easily. Compounded with the difficulty of finding an item that meshes with an ability set, they may not find something for themselves or their families for hundreds of years.
“Now slow down there, lad,” Jago said, “Even the Adventure Society don’t have that sort of reach. I suppose you haven’t heard much of my hometown, Kallid?” Jago said, eyes beaming with pride.
“Just the usual. Kallid, the Kingdom of Snow and Frost. The living crystal forests, the eternal storm, and the ruins of ancient civilizations,” Encio said, listing off tidbits about the nation.
“There’s something a little special about Kallid,” Jago said, crossing his arms, “We have the Mausoleum of the Manistrengja.”
“The Manistrengja?” Nara asked.
“It’s one of the local legends,” Encio explained, “The Einvaldi and his legion of the moon, who protected the lands against the threat of the threat of the Svartrsoelis.”
“…Is this how you all feel when I make pop culture references of Earth?” Nara asked, drawing a big cultural blank.
“Yes,” was said with great exasperation.
“What is a pop culture reference?” asked Aliyah, but her question went unanswered.
“You’re very knowledgeable lad,” Jago praised. “Our Kallid is small compared to Rona.”
“Because who wants to live in a land of eternal winter,” grumbled Eufemia.
“I think lassie, you’ll be surprised; and the eternal snow is a bit of a misconception. Our Kallid has more than just snow to offer you. The Mausoleum is known for its treasures, growth items included. Kallid has all rights to the mausoleum, but we limit the number of objects that can be taken from it—don’t want to go wiping it clean first thing. So, your allowed to take one growth item from the mausoleum.”
“That’s pretty generous,” Encio said, “Anyone would jump at the opportunity for a single growth item.”
“That’s why there’s one final stipulation. Kallid doesn’t want bandits trying to break this rule and poach the treasures, so the Adventure Society helps manage the mausoleum in exchange for entrance passes.”
“Oh?”
“It’s nothing too official, but the Adventure Society can give out these passes for accomplishments. You’ll still have to go out and find your very own treasure, but there is no better fun than exploring an ancient ruin for treasure, now is there? It doubles as research—you protect the researcher who’s also your guide for the labyrinth, and you get your pick of the pot of gold. Not to mention the ambient magic of Kallid is around what your team needs next. What do you think?”
The team looked at each other. Ancient ruins, treasure, a mystical land of snow. Everyone but Eufemia was enthused.
“There is no greater reward than adventure,” Sen said grinning.
“Eh! That’s the spirit, lad!” Jago removed six plaques from his dimension bag. They were transparent and looked to be carved of ice. They glistened, almost slick, as if they were always melting. On it was carved a barren tree with a crescent moon.
“These’ll be your passes. You’ll need them at the gate of the mausoleum to enter. It’s dimensionally blocked to prevent unwanted trespass.”
“Didn’t you just say there were poachers?”
“Them tricky folk,” was his concise explanation. “Anyway, you’ll be needing these.”
The team nodded.
“The best time to enter Kallid is in the summer,” Jago said, “Otherwise the storms get rather muddling and snarly. You’ll need to fetch yourself someone who can portal to Kallid, and there aren’t that many. Even then, portals get a bit wonky up there. The unstable conditions and lingering magic make things a little unreliable. I bet you Ol’ Honorary Duke Aciano could get you there.”
Mona raised an eyebrow at Jago’s too casual tone with the diamond ranker’s name. He gave him the proper title, but the verbal respect wasn’t quite there.
“Don’t let that ol’ duke portal you there. Take the trek there. The scenery is something else.”
“Part of the reward is the journey,” Nara agreed. For the one who could teleport almost anywhere in the world, she did enjoy the physical act of traveling. However, she hadn’t been to Kallid before.
“If you have any further questions, contact me anytime,” he paused. “There is one other thing…”
“Jago,” Mona said, “What did I say about personal matters in official meetings?”
“I…I may contact you about a personal matter. Another day, youngin’s.”
The team was a little confused, but Jago excused himself and Mona accompanied them to the exit of the Adventure Society.
“What was that about?” Nara asked her.
Mona sighed, debating whether she’d discuss Jago’s personal matters with them.
“Jago has a rather unruly son in Kallid.”
“He’s a father? I’m never going to get used to how young you all look.”
Mona pointed to herself. “I have a daughter too.”
“That only reinforces my point,” Mona looked young, fit, and beautiful, but she was actually in her late fifties. “So, what’s this about his son?”
“He’s become antisocial over the years. He hates interacting with others, rejects forming teams, and won’t craft items for strangers.”
“He’s a crafter?” Sen asked.
“A blacksmith,” Mona confirmed. “There was an incident that soured his relationship with others as a whole. Theodore—Jago’s son—was a part of a small team of three. They’d been friends for many years, a light adventuring team who took their time ranking up. Theodore had to spend time crafting as well as combat, so it naturally took a little longer for him. At the time, he managed to craft a growth weapon for both his teammates.”
“That all sounds good but what cracked the pot?” Eufemia asked, “What drove him to reject others?”
“It all started with a prince.”
“Doesn’t it always,” was Eufemia’s snide comment.
Mona chuckled. “This foreign prince was leading a small party of adventurers there for the Mausoleum of Kallid. Theodore’s team had originally all agreed on their modus operandi of a casual adventuring team, but their engagements with the prince changed their mindset. They wanted to be adventurers that pursued fame and achievements. Kallid had felt like a cage to them after many years, so they joined the prince’s party which happened to have two open spots, and left him behind.”
Sen crossed his arms, angry for Theodore.
“At the time his former teammates left they were iron rank,” Mona explained. “But they came back after they realized something about growth weapons.”
“What?”
“The maximum rank of growth weapons is determined by the rank of the crafter at the time they forged it,” Mona said. “The original crafter needs to reforge the weapon to raise its maximum rank.”
“They didn’t!” Eufemia exclaimed, aghast. “They abandoned him for a flashy prince and came back and brazenly asked for the teammate they left behind to improve their weapons he made for them?”
She grimaced. “That’s exactly what happened. The former teammates had a loud and public fight, which informed others to Theodore’s ability to make growth weapons.”
“Everyone wanted to be his ‘friend’ so he’d craft them a growth weapon,” Sen concluded.
Mona nodded, “He didn’t trust anyone in Kallid after that, and decided to just stick to honing his craft. Jago’s concerned because he will only go on solo contracts, and a crafter needs to craft for other people. In the same way that an adventurer needs to challenge themselves with a variety of monsters, Theodore needs to challenge himself with what others need in their weapons. For what Jago may request of you, I’ll let him say so. He may decide to leave it be. Any request to cozy up to his son may drive him to become more antisocial.”
“Thank you for the explanation, miss Fenhu.”
Mona shook her head. “It wasn’t really my place to say, but as a parent I understand Jago’s worries.”
Mona had been Jago’s close acquaintance and colleague for years now, and the two had talked at length about the difficulties in raising children. Jago often traveled due to his specialty and knowledge of forces of the church of undead, as the church was extending its threat beyond the borders of Nekroz. Since Kallid was famously cold and snowy, it was also a frequent target of undead incursions. Jago’s son was in his thirties, so he wasn’t neglecting his son by traveling.
“Did he end up reforging their weapons?” Nara asked.
“No,” Mona said, “He didn’t.”