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Chapter 162: Befuddled

Arwin pulled the door open.

“Hello. You must be Ifrit,” Madiv said, tiling his head back to make eye contact with Arwin and giving him a flat-lipped smile. His motions were so similar to the ones he’d done the first time Arwin had opened the door that they had to have been rehearsed.”

“Ah… yes. I am,” Arwin said.

“Very good.”

They stared at each other for a second. Arwin coughed into a fist. Their first interaction had been a little awkward, but this was painful. It hadn’t been quite as obvious that Madiv had rehearsed everything the previous time.

“So… what are you here for?” Arwin asked, trying to give the merchant a way to steer the conversation back on track.

“You know what I’m here for.”

“We’re pretending that I don’t. The whole point of this is to see if you can sell to a random human.”

Madiv’s features flattened. “Ah. Can we do this again?”

“That may be for the best,” Arwin said. He stepped back and closed the door. Then he waited. Nothing happened. After waiting another minute, he pulled the door open. Madiv stood on the other side. His arms were crossed and his features were creased in irritation.

“What took you so long?” Madiv demanded.

“You’re meant to knock on the door.”

The merchant swore under his breath. He gestured furiously at Arwin to back up, then slammed the door shut. Arwin glanced over his shoulder at Lillia just to make sure she was seeing the same thing and she shrugged. She was doing her best to hide a smile behind a hand, but her best wasn’t quite cutting it.

Madiv knocked on the door. Arwin opened it again.

“Hello,” Madiv said. “You must be Ifrit.”

“That I am,” Arwin said. He was grateful that his armor blocked his smile from view. “Am I wrong in assuming that you were the merchant I was waiting for?”

“I am. Vivian said you may be interested in establishing a… relationship.”

How much of the damn conversation did he rehearse? That’s the exact same thing he told me the last time, and in the same creepy tone as well. It sounds like he shouldn’t be allowed near anyone under the age of forty.

“If a relationship means you can get me metal, then I’m interested. I need smithing quality material, and a fair amount of it.”

“I may be able to be of aid. Are we going to discuss terms in the open?” Madiv’s eyes twinkled, and it struck Arwin that the man wasn’t acting like this because he was playing coy. He was trying to remember his lines and screwing his face up in the process.

“Out of curiosity, what would you do if I said yes?”

Madiv blinked in surprise. “That would be ill advised. We are in public. People could… see us.”

Why are you making it seem like we’re discussing a forbidden dalliance instead of a bloody business deal?

“Right. That would be the last thing I’d want,” Arwin said through a sigh. He backed up and walked over to a table, pulling a chair out to sit down, but Madiv hadn’t followed him. The strange merchant still stood at the door, waiting expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Madiv asked, shifting from foot to foot. “We don’t have all day.”

And, just like that, Arwin finally realized what monster Madiv was. He nearly slapped himself in the forehead. Madiv was possibly the worst possible monster to be a merchant. He was a vampire.

“Let’s say I didn’t,” Arwin said slowly. “What then?”

“Then I would rip you asunder for your disrespect.”

“You know what? I think I can see why you’ve got trouble selling to people. Come in.”

Madiv strode into the tavern. A haughty air enveloped him as he prowled over to the table Arwin had taken and sat down in a chair, interlacing his fingers and resting his elbows on the wood.

Arwin sat down across from him. Once more, a second of uneasy silence passed between them. It seemed that Madiv had absolutely no idea as to when he was meant to start speaking until someone else lead the conversation.

“So… what can you offer me?” Arwin asked.

“Metal.”

“You’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that. What kind of metal? What are your prices and turnaround times?” Arwin asked. “Do you have suppliers with rates that you can promise me or anything like that? It’s fine if you don’t, but I’d need at least a general estimate before I was able to promise anything.”

“I could get you the metal. That is my promise.”

This is doomed.

“Any metal?” Arwin pressed.

“Yes. I am sure I would be able to find it.” Madiv’s eyes flicked over to Lillia before returning to Arwin.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Is he trying to impress her by flexing that he can get any kind of metal he wants?

“What about starting with some Ivorin?” Arwin asked. “I need a lot of it. I know it’s relatively rare, but not all that common in smithing so the price shouldn’t be too high. Can you get that for me?”

“Of course I can. I did just say I could procure any metal. Finding this… Ivorin will be simple. Do we have a deal?”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“Depends on how much you’re going to charge me for it. I’m not promising to pay any amount. Set a price. How much for an ingot of it?”

“Five hundred gold.”

Arwin nearly choked on his own saliva. “Five hundred? Are you insane? Absolutely not. Thirty.”

“Thirty?” Madiv’s eyes boggled out of his head. “What am I, a rat? Three hundred gold. That is my final offer. It is a good deal.”

“It really isn’t. Ivorin costs fifty gold when I buy it from another smith who’s marking it up,” Arwin said as he crossed his arms. “Who in their right mind would ever agree to five hundred? That price is ludicrous. It doesn’t even feel like I can haggle something that high down to a reasonable level.”

Madiv’s brow furrowed. He looked around him superstitiously, then leaned closer to Arwin and lowered his voice so as to not be overheard by Lillia. “Is this part of the exercise?”

“No. Ivorin isn’t that bloody expensive.”

“Oh.” Madiv leaned back. “I can do fifty gold.”

“That’s the price I get it from the other smith. What’s with the huge markup?”

Granted, I don’t think I’m going to be getting it at that price again anytime soon. I get the feeling Taylor won’t be selling to me anymore. He definitely recognized me, even with my armor on. It probably wasn’t too hard to put things together when material made out of stuff sold to the only other new blacksmith in town keeps popping up on the market.

“Fine. Forty gold. That is my final offer.” Madiv extended a hand. His fingernails ended in thin points that Arwin couldn’t have missed even if he’d wanted to. Repressing a sigh, Arwin reached out and shook Madiv’s hand.

“Deal,” Arwin said.

“I am thrilled to see our future unfold together,” Madiv said with a ghastly smile. He paused for a moment, still not having released Arwin’s hand, then tilted his head to the side. “Now, would you inform me what Ivorin is?”

They stared at each other. Madiv’s face didn’t even so much as twitch. He was serious. Arwin’s shoulders slumped and he sank back into his chair. “How can you agree to source something when you don’t even know what it is? How do you know I didn’t scam you?”

“You are the Queen’s ser — ah, consort. You would not lie in her presence.”

“That wasn’t part of the bloody practice,” Arwin said. “You can’t just rely on that. Also, there is absolutely nothing that stops me from lying. I didn’t, but you won’t know that to be the case with others.”

Madiv’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in anger. “This is exactly the reason I dislike dealing with your kind. Everything is about who can cheat the other better. There is a distinct lack of honor.”

“Stupidity isn’t the same thing as lack of honor,” Arwin said. “It barely feels like you’re even trying to get a good deal. Have you seriously been acting as a merchant for years? What do you normally deal in?”

“Whatever needs dealing. I acquire directives from my clients and have teams of adventurers source the items I need. It is an efficient strategy.”

Ah. So that’s how Oddjobs comes into the picture. They’re one of the groups that he uses to get items without knowing what he’s actually selling. I suppose that works, but it’s a really odd way to go about it.

“And how do you avoid getting scammed? What if I’d told you that I’d buy Ivorin for five gold and you approved of it?”

“I would deliver the item as promised,” Madiv said with a smug expression. “And then I would kill you for your falsehoods.”

“And how many people have you done that to?”

“I have not kept track.”

Great. He’s just a literal murderer. Wait. How does he know if he’s been scammed, though? If he never figures out the price of the item, is he just guessing if people lie to him or not?

“How many people have you killed?” Arwin asked.

Madiv cleared his throat and looked away. “I do not see how this is relevant to our exercise. The only goal was to see if we could conduct business. We did. It went well.”

“It went horribly,” Arwin corrected. “Now answer the question. How many people have you killed?”

“Hundreds.” Something about his voice was off. It was almost embarrassed. Arwin’s eyes narrowed.

“And how many of them died because they scammed you rather than due to the war?”

Madiv’s eye twitched. He’d hit the nail on the head. The vampire reached up to scratch at his nose and mumbled an answer into his palm. When he realized that Arwin was still staring at him and waiting for a response, he let out an exasperated huff and threw his hands up.

“None. I don’t know when I’ve been scammed, you damn human. How would I know? But if I did get scammed, I am certain I would kill whoever drew my ire.”

“What’s the blood on your chest actually from?” Arwin asked.

Madiv’s jaw clenched shut and he turned away.

“Answer him,” Lillia said.

The vampire’s expression crumpled, but his devotion to Lillia proved to beat out any reluctance he had. “It’s not blood. I didn’t kill anyone.”

“What is it, then?” Arwin asked.

“It’s tomato paste,” Madiv said wearily. “I was eating a wrapped sausage and it slipped out of my hands. When I tried to grab it, the sauce squirted out of it and onto my clothes. I didn’t have time to clean it up before I arrived.”

Arwin burst into laughter. He couldn’t help himself. Madiv’s glare bored into his skull, but the vampire could do nothing but watch if he wanted to avoid drawing Lillia’s ire. “Why the hell didn’t you just say that?”

“People do not respect dropping sausages. They respect power.”

“So you thought insinuating you’d killed someone would somehow endear me to you?” Arwin asked in disbelief. “You’re trying to sell to me, not get hired as a mercenary. You should have just told the truth. It would have been a better opener.”

“I do not understand. The truth exposes weakness.”

“The truth makes you relatable,” Arwin corrected. He shook his head, then rose to his feet. He tapped a finger against a streak of ivory metal running through his chestplate. “This metal is Ivorin.”

Madiv leaned forward to peer at the armor, then lowered himself back into his chair. “Why do you show me this? Our exercise was purely theoretical.”

“Who said that? I don’t recall Lillia claiming it would be fake. She told you to show her how you deal with your normal customers. If you want to live up to her expectations, then get that Ivorin.”

Madiv studied Arwin for a few seconds. He turned to Lillia, who nodded to back up Arwin’s claim. The vampire let out a slow sigh and stood.

“Very well. I will acquire this Ivorin… for Lillian’s sake.”

“Lillia,” Lillia corrected.

“For her sake. I will not refuse an order.” Madiv proclaimed. He then leaned in closer to Arwin and lowered his voice. “Am I truly that foul at this?”

“Yes,” Arwin said. “I don’t think you could sell a piece of candy to a child. That’s probably for the best, though. You shouldn’t go anywhere near them until you figure out how to speak to people normally.”

“There’s something wrong with the way I speak?” Madiv genuinely sounded baffled. “I honed my tongue to be eloquent so as to blend in amongst nobility. Ah — I see. You are not nobility. Your sensibilities are of a baser sort.”

“Literally everyone you’re going to be speaking to in this town is going to be relatively normal. And you’re a merchant. Why would you speak like a noble?”

“You should emulate those who you desire to be.”

“You want to be a noble?”

“I want to be rich,” Madiv said. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed and lowered his voice even further. “Will you teach me? I do not wish to disappoint my Queen. I wish to be able to serve her to the best of my ability. If there is flaw in how I handle myself, I will bring her great shame.”

Arwin blinked. Then he sighed. “I’m no merchant… but I think I know someone who could help you so long as you agree to be polite.”

“I will do what is necessary in order to please my Queen.”

“First off, just stop talking like that,” Arwin advised. “Go look for the Ivorin and see what you can do. I’ll find out if the, uh, merchant expert is willing to train you.”

Madiv took a step back and gave him a sharp nod. “I will do as commanded. Await my return, I beseech you. It will be soon, and I shall not disappoint.”

With that, Madiv spun and strode out the door, leaving it open. A second passed. His hand slid back into view and silently pulled the door shut.

Arwin slowly turned to Lillia, who looked just as befuddled about the whole sequence of events as he felt.

How did things end up like this?