"...Is he drooling?"
Glenn groaned, tossing and turning in his sleep. The floor was particularly uncomfortable, especially compared to the large bed he'd been able to enjoy since upgrading to Gold rank.
'Wait, I didn't even get to try out Dark-Gold's facilities!' The dismay he felt woke him completely, and he opened his eyes to the whole group looking at him strangely.
"What, I can't even sleep now?" spat Glenn as he straightened up while dusting off his clothes. The moons were still high in the sky, the sun not about to rise.
"Of course you can, dear Fixer! Would you... Would you like some tea, wait, I hear you like that sort of thing..." An excited, slightly shy voice exclaimed behind him, making him groan with annoyance.
A man swiftly approached him, bearing a bottle of Fire Spirit. He had a blue coat of luxurious fabric on a white shirt and bore golden-rimmed glasses. The man was balding slightly, but what was left of his blond hair could let anyone imagine his past glory.
"Thanks, but no thanks, Monsieur Maron," Glenn politely refused, ignoring the disappointment in Maron's eyes. After accepting the escort/request in the Cleaner's Workshop, the team departed, not losing any seconds. The contractor was also in a hurry, so it ended up suiting everyone.
It wasn't every day that the requester moved alongside the Fixers, so Glenn had been quite curious about him. Monsieur Maron was a merchant who dealt in all kinds of stuff, as long as it brought money back to him. He had invested in a local brewery outside of King's Rise in Palancar and had fallen in despair when he heard the news of the village's destruction.
"Hum, I simply don't get why you would invest outside of King's Rise safety. There's plenty of space in the Fringes free to be used, as long as you clear a few Rifts here and there," Tarana asked with curiosity while sharpening her twin falx.
The merchant's eyes shone brightly, and he slipped his hand into a small leather pouch attached to his waist, somewhat similar in design to Glenn's. He pulled out a very comfortable-looking chair from the pouch, before sitting on it as if everything was normal.
"Well, there is a reason I needed this business in Palancar to work," He began, picking the bottle of Fire Spirit he previously placed on the ground and playing with it.
"You should have heard of the shortages of Fire Spirit, right?" He looked at the team members, who nodded hesitantly. Glenn rubbed his chin, thinking back to what he previously learned.
"What does that have to do with it? Isn't Fire Spirit made in the Southern Continent?" He stated, remembering the snippets of rumors he inadvertently listened to. The merchant nodded approvingly, pushing the bottle inside his dimensional pouch.
"Indeed, it's a product exclusively cultivated in Salaphos, one of the most powerful kingdoms of the Southern Continent. The Fire Spirit owes its name to the ambient Mana the main ingredients are growing in," The man scavenged through his pouch, smiling when he found what he wanted.
He pulled out a beautifully drawn map showing the countries of this world. Glenn's eyes widened as this was the first time he'd had the opportunity to check the situation of this world. He could have done so earlier, but the young man was always too focused on getting stronger and improving his spells. Who cares about geography, anyway?
'I do, you monkey! This is interesting...' Diamanes exclaimed, before concentrating on said map. Both the entity and its host had their attention drawn by a glowing dot on the map that blinked dimly. It was placed on the biggest land, in between two landmarks named respectively Palancar and King's Rise. The first was in the West, while the other was in the East. They were both in the country of Munirp, created by the respected First King if Glenn remembered well. Monsieur Maron placed his finger on the dot.
"So this is us," He then moved his finger to show the lower part of the map, where, separated by quite the distance of water, was a huge land almost comparable in size to Munirp. It was named the Southern Continent, and the first country closest to them was...
"...and that's Salaphos, our main commercial allies." The merchant gave them a few seconds to study the map, before clapping his hands together, drawing the team's attention once again.
"As you've probably noticed, there is quite a distance between us and Salaphos. So even if we have an excellent relationship and trade relatively often..." He trailed off at the end, letting the others think of themselves.
"...The distance makes it so that the goods take a long time to arrive, if they ever do," Sahro finished, to the surprise of everyone. Monsieur Maron nodded before moving his finger to Munirp, pointing at Palancar.
"So, to overcome this problem, and in case our relationship with Salaphos deteriorates, I tried to set up a brewery in Palancar, where one of my experts found an environment similar to the original one," He then made a dispirited expression, sighing loudly.
"A plan that got completely ruined by the recent Blood Moon," Tarana theorized, summoning another nod from Maron.
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"...And so we're here to rebuild the brewery, or at least protect your workers while they do it. Well, I think I've got the gist of it," Glenn declared before standing up and stretching. He looked at the caravan they were escorting, where some twenty workers were having a meal in small groups.
There were also a few lower-ranking mercenaries, but they weren't invited to Monsieur Maron's private group. Glenn's team was a cut above the others, after all. Their strength was incomparable to even fifty Silver-ranked Fixers, even more with the addition of Sahro.
The Black Heir was still at Gold-Rank, but Glenn knew that in a spar against, he could only guarantee a 50/50 chance of winning. Hum, maybe 51...?
"What else is there to know about Palancar?" Tarana asked, curious. She sheathed back her swords and crossed her arms, listening intently to the merchant. The latter took the map back, to Glenn and Diamanes' dismay, and shrugged without much care.
"Well, it's...no, it was a small village near the Still Peak and Retni's Plains. Their main production was lumber and leather, and sometimes oats, but you can guess it wasn't very fruitful nor profitable," He leaned in his chair, crossing his fingers together as he looked at the starry sky.
A hint of worry could be seen in his eyes, as the man probably wondered whether he would profit from this expedition.
Glenn followed his gaze, staring at the two white moons high in the sky. He could still see the blood-like red moon illuminate the canopy like another sun from his memories, spitting out atrocities one after the other.
"...And to say that I witnessed that village's destruction..." The young man muttered through his teeth before shaking his head and leaning against a nearby tree.
He remained oblivious to Javier's strange gaze that followed him no matter what he did, the silent man staying as mute as possible.
The expedition left at dawn, not losing another minute. It was an uneventful journey, as they did not even meet a single wolf or other creature. This was quite surprising, from what Monsieur Maron had said, as the outside of King's Rise had a reputation for being quite dangerous, supposed to be almost crawling with abominations everywhere.
But no, the most dangerous being they encountered was probably the squirrel that tried to steal some nuts from Javier. The animal ended up on a spit, roasting over the fire.
The caravan proceeded without any issue, and finally, at the twilight of the third day of travel, they arrived at Palancar.
...Well, more like what was left of it.
After leaving the edge of the forest, they came to a clearing of scorched earth. The trees were charred black and a few burnt stones served as witnesses of the houses that were previously built there.
Strangely, even though the village was practically wiped off from this world's face, it was quite active, to say the least.
Both men and women were moving block after block of stones, carrying timber and construction materials.
"They seem a bit too happy to be villagers..." Glenn questioned, surprised by their spirit. Monsieur Maron grabbed his shoulder from behind, before coming next to him.
"That's because they're not villagers. They're probably some other company's employees," He explained before looking back at his workforce.
He turned around and left to discuss with the workers of the project, leaving Glenn to his thoughts.
"That's kind of surprising so many people are interested in this place when it's truly nothing but a ruin..." He scoffed, before yawning loudly.
'I mean, I can understand them. Such a place is perfect for production: resources get naturally infused with Fire Mana, making them of higher quality,' Diamanes commented, making Glenn ponder silently. Could he also profit from this place somehow? He doubted he would ever come back to it after all.
"...But are there no villagers? At all?" Glenn heard a curious female voice behind him. He rejoined his team and looked at Tarana, concerned. She seemed a little disturbed, which was understandable considering the woman's deep connection to nature. A place like this... where everything is dead and burnt, would certainly feel uncomfortable.
"I heard from Maron that they took refuge in the forest when the fire came but still suffered some casualties. It was a Blood Moon after all, it's generally not a good idea to come out of your house during those times," Sahro stated, his arms crossed while he sat on a tree trunk.
Glenn grabbed Tarana's shoulder, smiling warmly as he tried to comfort her.
"Don't worry, this place gives me the creeps too, but you know, money...?"
The woman's eyes, previously filled with distrust and worry, shone brightly once again with an illusory light of gold.
"Right! Money!" She pumped her fist in the air as if to give herself some strength, before leaving to some unknown business. Javier was...as usual, doing his things, whatever those were.
"I'm going to check out the place, wanna come along?" Glenn turned toward Sahro, who shrugged without much care. The two men strolled through the land of ash, their feet leaving traces as if they were walking in the snow.
Sahro suddenly crouched, going through the ash. Glenn looked without questioning him, his eyes squinting when he saw what the Black Heir pulled out.
It was a small puppet, left untouched by the flames somehow.
They both sighed, before continuing their walk in the village. They weren't just taking in the sight of this burned land, they also needed to have an idea of how the place looked if a battle had to happen. It wouldn't be the best place to fight if they were pushed into the communal grave, for example.
They finished their quick tour of Palancar before Glenn noticed something in the ash. It was a large trail of something getting dragged on the ground, maybe a rock.
There was no way to know.
Without much else to do, Glenn followed the trail, Sahro walking behind him. The ash path led them back into the forest, where the traces were still present deep in the ground. They soon arrived at a small wooden hut that seemed to have survived the destruction of the village. Glenn hesitantly came to the door, knocking politely on it.
The door slowly opened by itself, hanging off its hinges. A loud, ominous creasing noise rang out, as they discovered an empty hut. There was nothing there, no trace of whatever was dragged through the ash and forest.
"Weird..." Glenn muttered, inviting himself inside. There wasn't much, a chimney and an old bed, as well as a stone stove. Quite frugal, to say the least. Not that the people here had any choice in the matter.
Sahro bent down, inspecting the stone ground.
"There are traces of something huge scratching here. Did the owner of the house drag a huge rock inside or something?" The Black Heir blurted out, confused. Glenn was about to answer him when the door creased again, and a voice hollered at them.
"What...What are you doing in my house?!?"
An old man was standing in the doorway, huffing and puffing. Glenn and Sahro looked at each other and sighed together.
They were caught red-handed this time.