Rog went about extracting the bear’s core while Red gathered his ruined iron plates. He didn’t want to leave evidence of his formation lying around in the forest.
When the hunter was done with the bear, he approached Red with a curious gaze.
“Do you think you could sell this to other people?” Rog asked.
Red frowned. “Maybe, but I’m not sure it’s wise. There would not be many people capable of buying it in town, and it would bring me unnecessary attention.”
In fact, the only people with enough resources to buy his formations would likely be Gustav and the Baron. There weren’t enough clients to justify Red’s effort, not to mention half of them were the sect’s direct rivals, which limited the youth’s choice to a single person.
There was also the matter of the attention he would receive. Arcane scripture was almost exclusively learnt by people in organizations with the means and knowledge to teach it. Red, on the other hand, was learning on his own with a manual, and if people were to learn about his expertise, it wasn’t far-fetched for some people to connect the dots.
This could spell his doom, much more so when he was still trying to hide his involvement with the inheritance seven years ago.
Rog scratched his beard at Red’s words. “It’s a shame. You could make a fortune this way.”
‘You’re telling me.’
Unfortunately, until Red could find a safe channel to sell these kinds of products, he didn’t dare tempt fate.
They quickly gathered their belongings and started to make their way back to town. This trip hadn’t taken them too far into the forest. In fact, the proximity of the bear to town was part of the reason Red and Rog had been sent to hunt and kill it, a matter that had taken less than a day.
It took them just a few hours before they saw the lights of the town in the distance. Compared to six years ago, the settlement had grown substantially.
Just like his companions had predicted back then, many refugees decided against moving back to their villages during these times of war. Instead, these people had settled on the outer edges of town, using abandoned ruins and building their own shacks to inhabit. This had substantially increased the reaches of the town proper, not to mention it had added to its chaotic atmosphere even further.
The Baron did his best to keep order in his town, but there was only so much he could do without simply barring refugees in the first place. Suffice it to say, the Baron was too kindhearted for that.
This was made evident by the increasing hubbub as Red and Rog neared the place. Even at the dead of the night, there was still a lot of activity in the slums. People drinking, laughing, and no small amount of fights too. The amount of ruffians and petty crimes also increased with the influx of people, but the Baron managed to keep a semblance of peace in his town, however fickle it was.
Still, no matter how one looked at it, the peace they enjoyed under the Baron’s governance was a privilege in times of war, and everyone living under his protection appreciated the man’s efforts. The rest of the kingdom, on the other hand, wasn’t in a very peaceful state.
Red and Rog walked through the streets, not bothering to hide themselves. The town was so overpopulated that their previous hidden routes were useless now. Thankfully, no one paid attention to or recognized the two of them, or if they did, they thought better than to mess with them.
They walked up the hill, passing a handful of guard patrols and drunken revelries on the way to their sect. Their property was still isolated from the rest of the town, even if over the years some newcomers were foolish enough to try to settle in their street. They were quick to learn their lesson when Hector acted, though.
Once Red got close to the sect, he felt a fluctuation waiting for them behind the gate.
He stopped walking and frowned.
Rog noticed his change in expression. “Someone waiting for us?”
Red nodded and continued to walk forward. He opened the gate and was met with Domeron sitting on his reclining chair as he waited for them.
The man had likewise not changed much in appearance over the past six years.
“You took your time.” the swordsman said as he took a sip from his mug.
“What happened?” Red went straight to the point.
Domeron smiled. “… It’s Allen.”
“Well, I’m going to sleep.” Rog slipped away as soon as he heard these words.
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Red sighed and massaged his temple.
He looked back at Domeron. “What is it now?”
“He’s out drinking again.” Domeron said.
“… Where?”
“In the Adventurer’s Guild.”
‘Gustav’s place.’
Red frowned. “How do you know this?”
“He told me before he left.”
“… Why didn’t you stop him?”
“It is not my duty to do so.” Domeron shrugged. “You said you would take care of it.”
Red stared at the man, trying to look through his impassive expression. The youth couldn’t discern what kind of game he was playing at, though, so he just nodded.
“I’ll bring him back.” Red said and turned around to leave.
“Do try not to make too big of a mess, please.” Domeron said as the youth walked away.
Red would obviously try to heed his advice, but if Allen was already inside the Adventurer’s Guild, then the mess was already made.
Red pulled his hood up and wandered down the streets towards the Guild. This was another place that had seen a substantial increase in visitors, as adventurers from all around the kingdom sought some refuge from the war. This, of course, only benefitted Gustav, whose business was booming and was as rich and powerful as he had ever been.
His subordinates often found excuses to make trouble for the Water Dragon Sect, and although Red and his companions responded with equivalent force, it had made their lives in town much more difficult these past few years. Not to mention that with Narcha and Eiwin gone, the sect had lost a substantial amount of power, while Gustav continued to grow stronger.
This didn’t mean they took their harassment passively, though. In fact, Red could imagine Allen had gone to the Adventurer’s Guild with revenge in mind.
The youth pulled his hood tighter over his head as he approached the guild. He didn’t hear sounds of combat, which was a good sign as far as he was concerned. However, as he got closer, he noticed how silent the guild, which was supposed to be bustling at this time of night, was.
There was only one loud voice that could be heard coming from inside the building.
“Come on, bring me another drink!”
‘Moron…’
Red could already tell it was Allen with his crimson sense. He was able to enter the building without any issues, and inside he witnessed the awkward atmosphere around the place.
There were dozens of patrons sitting around the place, in the process of drinking and eating deep into the night. However, they weren’t talking like Red was used to, and they were instead staring at a certain individual sitting at a table in the center of the room.
A blond, tall young master was in the process of downing a big mug of ale. Unlike Red, this individual was wearing fancy clothes, befitting his status and appearance. His facial features were dignified and graceful, fitting for a heroic youth - that would be the case, of course, if it wasn’t for the drunken red flush that tinged his cheeks.
This was none other than Allen.
Like Red, the years had seen him become a fine young man. Unlike Red, the years had also seen him change for the worse, judging by the empty mugs on his table.
“Come on! I need another mug!” Allen called out to a waitress not too far from him.
The woman frowned. “You still haven’t paid for the first ten.”
Allen glared at her. “Are you doubting the word of the Water Dragon Sect’s young master?! I will pay when I’m done drinking! Just bring me another one!”
The waitress didn’t say anything and walked away to the bar.
Allen seemed completely unaffected by the unfriendly gazes people were throwing his way, and he continue to sip at what remained in his empty mugs. No one approached the young master, but Red saw a few individuals talking in whispers behind the bar’s counter as they threw glances at Allen.
He couldn’t imagine the peaceful situation would last much longer, so he needed to get his companion out of here quickly.
Red approached the young man, drawing quite a few glances himself.
“Allen, we need to leave.” he said as he got to the young master’s side.
“Huh? What are you-” Allen’s expression changed as he looked at the face beneath the hood. “Red, you’re here!”
His loud announcement made the entire room stir in surprise, and now Red was drawing the same unfriendly gazes to himself. He sighed.
‘There goes my last hope of remaining anonymous.’
“Come on, join me for a drink!” Allen pointed at a seat by his side.
Red frowned. “You know I don’t drink.”
“It’s fine! We can just get you some water!” The young master looked towards the bar counter with a drunken gaze. “Waitress, bring a large mug of your finest water to my friend here!”
Allen got no response from the woman as she looked at the duo with a frown.
Allen grunted. “Ugh, the service in this place is horrible!”
“Allen, we need to leave.” Red repeated his words.
“Why?!” The young master frowned. “I’m just getting started!”
Almost on cue, Red noticed heavily armored men walk down from upstairs, carrying all kinds of weapons on their person. They looked at the sect duo, and then spread around the room, surrounding the two of them ever so slowly.
Red frowned. “Allen, we are leaving right now.”
Allen also noticed the hostile men getting ready to act, and he sighed in annoyance. “I wanted to stay a bit more, but I guess we have no choice.” The young master got up from his chair and looked at the waitress. “Your service is horrible! You won’t be getting a tip!”
Allen fetched a few coins from his pouch and tossed them on the table. Then, without ceremony, he started to walk towards the exit with an unsteady gait.
Red followed behind him, relieved that things didn’t break down into a fight.
And that was when he heard one of the armored guild guards snort as they passed him.
“Pathetic.” the man said with a sneer. “At least those two bitches weren’t cowards like you who fled at the first sign of trouble.”
The only response the man got was Allen’s fist to his face. He went flying, crashing against a table.
At that moment, all hell broke loose.