“So, rule number one,” Pyre said as they walked down the mist-filled streets of Grimguard, the early morning sun dawning over them. “No embarrassing me.”

“And how, exactly, would I do that?” Akemi said, chewing obnoxiously. They had just picked up breakfast at a nearby bakery—a very educational experience, considering she recognized almost none of the ingredients. “Please provide examples. Get as specific as possible.”

Pyre groaned. “Right. Like I’m falling into that trap.”

“You’re so boring.” Akemi gnawed at the last bit of her fanged venesia tart. It was apparently a carnivorous fruit that fed on small animals. It tasted a bit like blueberries. “So what’s the second rule?”

“Efficiency. No holding me up for hours like you did yesterday. Or, at the very least, if you’re going to go off exploring, give me a heads up so I don’t waste my own time.”

“I’ll try my best,” Akemi said, grinning mischievously.

She had to admit, she was having a little too much fun tormenting her new traveling companion.

As they walked, Akemi let her eyes trail over the menagerie of shops and offices.

She had her mind fixed on one shop in particular. She had spotted it on Kobe’s map when she was traveling to Grimguard.

“Aha.” She grinned, pointing at a decrepit cobblestone building. “Here we are.”

A weathered sign loomed over the building’s doorway: Grimguard Artificery.

“What do you mean, here we are? We haven’t gotten to the castle yet.”

“Small pitstop.”

As Pyre groaned, Akemi tried the door. It wasn’t locked, per se, but it didn’t exactly seem like it wanted to be opened. Akemi had to give it a solid shove with her shoulder before it moved even a slight bit from its frame. To make matters worse, it proceeded to make a terrible, deathly whining sound as she pushed it further.

“You’re about to put this place out of its misery if you push any harder,” Pyre muttered.

Akemi was about to argue with her, but the door made Pyre’s point for her—with one last push, it fell straight off its hinges, falling flat onto the floor in a plume of smoke. Akemi heard an uninspiring cracking sound when she tried to step over it and into the shop.

“My door!”

A creature the same as Bwog greeted them with a shriek. Only this creature—with the characteristic attention to one’s eyelashes, and a hint of blush—was distinctively female.

Logma | Level 23 Shopkeep / Level 21 Artificer

“You’ll be paying for that, you know,” Logma said, waving a large wooden staff at them.

Huh. This is the first person I’ve seen with two distinct classes in their profile.

Nocturne apparently has multiple, seeing as he can use Mindshaper skills, but I guess he has some kind of spell that hides them all behind the Accountant label.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh great,” Pyre whispered as Logma grabbed a broom, busying herself with cleaning up the door’s wooden debris. “Now we’re making enemies of the mirthlings.”

“The mirthlings?” Akemi said, full volume.

“Aye, that’s what I am,” Logma said, to Pyre’s great embarrassment. “And I’m proud of my heritage. You got a problem with it, human?”

“Don’t know enough to have a problem,” Akemi said. “What’s a mirthling?”

Logma glared at her. “You pulling my ear or something, lassie?”

Akemi regarded her ear. It had a very droopy earlobe, nearly down to her chin.

“It does look pullable,” Akemi said lowly, mostly to the amusement of herself.

“Oh my god, shut up,” Pyre said. She turned to Logma. “We’re so sorry, we’ll be on our way—”

“Not without paying for that door, you won’t.”

It seemed that the discussion had reached a moot point. Akemi reluctantly helped Logma pick up the ashes of the door before the mirthling was finally relaxed enough to talk business.

“That door will cost you three silver,” she said as they took a seat in the corner of the shop.

It hadn’t been easy finding a place where all three of them could fit. The store was claustrophobically stuffed with bookshelves; not ones that contained books, but amulets, jewels, mechanical toys and jars full of mysterious, glowing liquids.

Artificing materials.

“I don’t have any money, but I do have things for trade,” Akemi countered.

That had been her strategy from the beginning. She had saved all the miscellaneous clothing she had accumulated—the huntsman’s clothes, the cowboy hat and vest—to trade in exchange for the artificer to unlock the enchantment on the warlock pocket watch. The one she had looted off that cowboy, Mickey.

“That so?” Logma grumbled. “Let me see, then.”

Akemi produced the items from her inventory. Logma studied them with very little interest.

She gazed back at Akemi with dissatisfaction.

“This is all you have?”

“Well…” Akemi trailed off. She summoned the pocket watch, and placed it on the table. “And this. But it’s not for sale. I was hoping for you to help me with it, actually.”

As she summoned the clock, the System previewed its description yet again.

[Warlock’s Pocket Watch]

An eerie timepiece haunted by the spectral presence of a lost lover. It bears a gruesome history, having become forever frozen in time on the day its owner's fiancée tragically passed away. This haunting relic now serves as a melancholic reminder of a love lost in the depths of eternity.

Unlike the rest of Akemi’s sorry offerings, the watch seemed to pique Logma’s attention.

“Now this is interesting…”

Logma wrapped her wrinkled green hands around it and brought it up close to her face, examining it like a child might inspect a worm from the garden.

“This is a powerful enchantment,” she said after a while. “But you don’t have the sufficient level or class to wield it.”

Akemi frowned.

“More importantly,” Logma pressed, eyes narrowing. “You do not have the funds.”

Not yet, she thought. Once they accomplished this mission, she’d have a bucketload of silvers.

“Fine,” Akemi bristled. “Can you tell me the requirements to wield it, at least? So I know what to expect once I can get the enchantment unlocked?”

Logma scoffed. “No. You broke down my door. I’m not giving you anything for free.”

“How about for five silvers?” Pyre interjected.

Akemi’s eyebrows rose comically as her head snapped to face her companion.

Why would she help me?

Logma’s face lit up, and she put on a very polite, political smile.

“For five silvers… gladly.”

After the money changed hands between them, Logma easily obliged.

“First of all, it requires the Cutthroat Warlock class in order to equip. And secondly, it’s a Summoning, sort of. It allows you to summon the lost lover of the artifact’s original owner.”

“Oh, great,” Akemi rolled her eyes. “So I can summon the ex of the guy I killed? How helpful.”

Logma stared at her in mild horror when the words left her mouth, but it was obvious that she knew what kind of city she was in, because she didn’t comment on it.

“Summoning spirits is no small act. And this isn’t just some scorned housewife—this is a very powerful spirit. Years and years of rage have built up in this artifact. The deceased must have died horribly, that is for certain.” She passed the watch back to Akemi. “Invoking her on your enemies might be as powerful as any attack you could accomplish yourself.”

Akemi took back the pocket watch, her eyebrows raising.

Now that, she thought, is promising.