After leaving the arena sand, I immediately headed to my designated room, where I washed up, changed into my own clothes, and instead of going to the stands, I lay on the bench, having first asked that Aun be brought to me as soon as the young man showed up. I had no desire whatsoever to watch the rest of the fights today.
Propping my hands behind my head and staring at the stone ceiling, I thought about how I had reacted too emotionally to Tarroy's use of the Sacred Barrier. Thankfully, being in character, I didn't let my feelings show on my face then.
Not so long ago, I used essentially the same technique to attack a pirate boatswain, "scrambled" his brains, and then finished him off. But that was in real combat, in a life-or-death struggle, where there are no rules or conventions. The rules of this tournament, however, prohibited external enhancements on participants. And the Sacred Barrier, since it was not imposed by Tarroy himself, but apparently by someone from his family and much more powerful, fell into this category of such external enhancements. Most likely, this is how this Khethno native won before. He would get close to his opponent and, biding his time, tell them the truth about his origins. The Sacred Barrier imposed on him would immediately react, throwing his opponent into a brief confusion.
The only question was: why none of those defeated by Tarroy had complained about an unfair fight? But I quickly found the answer to that, too. The Sacred Barrier is very rare magic, and most inhabitants of Ain go their whole lives without ever encountering it. Not everyone has as much life experience as Ender, the sheriff of Unudo. This spell can easily be mistaken for a regular Mental magic attack. Yes, Mental magic is very complex and usually not studied until the Sapphire level, that's true. But there are exceptions and prodigies in every rule who have managed to master a couple of spells, even at the Bronze level. Or maybe it's even simpler. Since the blow of the Sacred Barrier was accompanied by words, Tarroy could refer to his knowledge of such a branch of Air magic as Sound spells. It's not the most common skill either, but its power is tied to words, and the effect is often similar to Mental spells. Bards and harpists usually operate this subcategory of magic, but no one forbids anyone else from studying it if they have the inclination. So, if Tarroy's opponents had not previously encountered the manifestation of Sacred Barriers, they could easily mistake its use for a disorienting Sound attack.
Moreover, the Sacred Barrier is a secret magic, and it's incredibly difficult for an outsider to track its use. If the steward judged fights from the sand, he might have identified a rule violation, but since all the judges were in the stands, they might simply not have noticed the use of such subtle and quite specific magic. Despite Tarroy's partial success, I still thought using the Sacred Barrier in this tournament was too risky and short-sighted. Tarroy's actions could have been noticed at any moment, immediately leading to disqualification.
Having sorted this out for myself, I plunged into deep meditation to understand the reason for my breakdown. Even when faced with such a dirty trick, I shouldn't have reacted as I did, turning the enemy into a broken doll writhing in pain. It would have been enough to simply knock him out, but I acted differently, allowing anger to overcome reason.
By the time Aun appeared at the room's threshold, I had roughly sorted myself out. Most likely, the cause of my breakdown was the same unresolved murder of Cristo and another dozen people. This thought, like a hot needle, still sat in my head, causing me to react particularly sharply to some irritants. As if the unavenged death of Cristo was my Angron's Nails[1].
"Master!" After closing the door behind him, Aun sat down on a stool and looked at me with a worried gaze. "Are you all right?"
"Everything is fine," I nodded, adopting a sitting position.
"Are you sure? Because I was really scared... Scared when you, with an absolutely impassive face, monotonously began to break the bones of that Tarroy! You were like not a human but a magical golem without feelings and emotions. The crunch of bones echoed throughout the Arena, and your eyes were so calm..." The young man shivered. "Atrocity. Absolute atrocity!"
"I repeat, I'm fine," I said with a warm, genuine smile.
"He did say something to you, right? That's why you... I understood correctly, right? And because of his words, you..." The boy didn't finish, just swallowed a lump in his throat.
"You understood correctly, he said something. Something he shouldn't have said. And he paid for it."
"Master, can I never know what he said to you?" The boy's face looked as if he feared becoming an accomplice in a crime punishable by dismemberment.
"Agreed," I quickly consented and asked. "And how about you? Found anything about the future of the 'Blood Wave'?"
"Master!" Aun even jumped on his stool. "Are you really concerned about that right now?"
"Well, since I asked, it seems I am." My smile was not at all malicious.
"Oh, I spent an hour and a half almost in vain!" The boy brushed it off. "The further fate of the galley is a matter of the fleet, and no one in the municipality knows anything at all. No matter who I asked, no one knows."
"You said you spent time 'almost' in vain." I clarify just in case.
"I don't even know whether to tell or not. It's not information, but rather a hint."
"Speak."
"I accidentally heard two naval officers mention in a conversation between themselves that tomorrow, after sunset, there will be some big drinking at the 'Oars Up.' Remember, I told you about that old tavern, almost in the slums."
"I remember your story but don't quite understand the connection."
"In recent years, at the 'Oars Up,' it's been customary to celebrate only promotion to the captain. Since no new ships were launched this month and no existing captains have been discharged, I thought that... they might be celebrating an appointment specifically to the 'Bloody Wave.' It might be nonsense, of course, and I'm just making things up..." The lad stumbled and fell silent, his gaze dropping to the floor.
"Yes, you've done well!" It was an excellent lead for my unofficial investigation.
No, I was not going to avenge Cristo's death personally. But I also didn't plan to forget such a thing. The one who arranged the burning of the former pirate slaves would pay for his cunning game, which caused so many deaths. He would pay, if not now, then later, but he would. Right now, I'm too weak to take justice into my own hands. As far as I remember, that officer was at Wootz and looked like a truly experienced fighter. The risk is too high, and a lot can go wrong. However eager I am, I can't afford to risk it. Nevertheless, I can now gather additional evidence and find out who's behind it all. And then, later, when I reach Ruby or higher, I'll come back here and break his neck. Or, if I'm too busy for such a journey, I won't skimp on gold to hire professionals. But for that, I need to know all the details to avoid accidentally "ordering" an innocent person. This fully-formed plan worked on me like a bucket of tranquilizer, which Aun didn't fail to notice.
"Now I see that you're alright, your eyes are lively again!" The young man happily said.
"That's good! Since I don't plan to watch the final fight, let's go and eat somewhere, and we'll eat well!"
With these words, I pushed Aun out of the room and followed him out.
"By the way, since I didn't see any fights after my own, tell me that Paravi Malik lost her duel."
"I can't." The boy squeaked quietly. "She won."
"What a disaster! Just once during the entire tournament, luck could've been on my side, but no!" I slapped my thighs in frustration.
"Why are you so worried, Master? She's clearly out of your league." Aun didn't understand my exclamation.
"She's out of my league, yes, but if I accidentally damage her beautiful face, her crowd of admirers will tear me to pieces!"
"Master, you're exaggerating." The boy laughed carelessly.
"I wish." The "old me" had personally witnessed such a lynching, though, of course, not in Tries, but in Feyst, a city where Sino's tower stands.
When we left the Arena and stepped onto the central square, it was immediately apparent that people's attitude towards me had changed a bit. They no longer approached me, attempting to touch me casually; rather, they made way as soon as they saw me. I think, after such a "performance" on Earth, people would have scattered in fear, but here they rather respectfully avoided me. In Ain, they appreciated many things, including brutality demonstrated towards enemies or even random opponents. I didn't notice even a hint of condemnation in any glance thrown at me. And if these people knew why I had so brutally beaten Tarroy from Khetno, they could well carry me to the best pub in town on their shoulders. "Cheaters" and "rats" are despised not only on Earth but in Ain too.
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We crossed the square diagonally, turned north, passed a couple more blocks, and pivoted onto a small, quiet street. After about a hundred steps, we entered through a nondescript door into a modest-looking tavern. Despite it being midday, ten out of fifteen tables were occupied. Without a second thought, Aun headed towards a free table and sat down, gesturing for me to join him.
"By suggesting a tasty meal, I thought you'd take me to the affluent districts," I commented after sitting down.
"Master! They cook the best ramen in town here!" The boy said, demonstratively licking his lips.
I couldn't exactly be called a big fan of ramen, but since I was a little tired of seafood, I ordered a dish with chicken meat.
"By the way," Aun leaned back in his chair after our order was taken and turned to me, "have you considered staying in the city a bit longer after the tournament ends?"
"What's your question about?"
"Just..." The young man hesitated but, encouraged by my gesture, continued, "While wandering around the municipality today, some quite influential people approached me..."
"And?"
"It may have seemed like they were just coming up to exchange a couple of phrases with me, but there was more to it. They were gauging my influence on you. I think, regardless of how the Alchemists' Guild Tournament ends, you'll find many excellent job offers in Tries."
"I'm not interested," I cut him off.
"I was approached by representatives of very influential and very wealthy families." The boy fell silent for a moment as our food arrived, and once the servant left, he repeated, "Very!"
"I have my own Path, and following it, I need to leave Tries right after the grand finale." I closed this topic in a language that Aun would understand.
The ramen really was excellent, on par with Michelin-starred restaurants, but new thoughts were distracting me from enjoying its rich and flavorful broth. These thoughts were practically screaming that I should get out of Tries as soon as possible after the award ceremony. I had drawn the attention of the powerful, and it seemed that many of them had decided to get me under their control. I would have to refuse, and such people are very sensitive; they might take such a refusal as an insult, leading to problems. However, I had not planned to stay in the city anyway, and now I had received yet another reason to follow my plans.
The image I was crafting, my persona, was needed for further interaction with the Alchemists' Guild and, through them, with other major guilds, not with the nobility of the free cities of the southeast continent. However, as often happens, one thing pulls another, then a third, and so on. Having shown myself to be so much stronger than all the other participants in the Bronze tournament, I could not help but pique the interest of the locals. This was part of my original plan, as I intended to flee from Tries before this interest negatively impacted me.
"What are our plans for today?" Aun asked, waiting for me to leisurely finish my rather large portion of food. "Will we train?" Where did he get all that energy?
"Training with a full stomach?" I was too lazy to even get up from my chair, and he was talking about exercising. "First, we need to take a walk for a better digestion."
"And where are we going?"
"You know where in the city you can look at artifacts for travelers offered for sale and get a sense of their price?"
"Of course, I know." The boy nodded. "There are three places in the city. The first is the caravan market, where foreigners trade. Mostly cheap junk, but sometimes unique things turn up, as my father used to say. The second is a small alley off the central market, but, according to my grandfather, everything there is 'simple.' It's hard to find something interesting there, but if you need a basic tunneller's equipment, it's best to stock up there. And the third is private auctions of the nobility. There are unique offers there, but I don't have access." Aun said with slight regret.
"Then, while the sun is still not setting, let's go to the caravan market," I announced my choice.
Of course, I understood that the broadest selection of intriguing equipment is in Deytran, the world's trade capital, and that's where I planned to stock up. But even so far from Pentapolis, one could find something curious and often literally at a throwaway price, as sellers might not understand the true value of certain specific artifacts. Not that I really expected to find something unique and cheap in Tries, but to check such a possibility, since there was free time, was not superfluous.
Unlike the city's central trading location, which looked relatively civilized with neat stalls and clean shops, the caravan market was more reminiscent of an unsupervised eastern bazaar. Instead of stalls and counters, there were heaps right on the pavement; instead of shops, trading took place from tents. All of this was accompanied by the constant cries of loud haggling, often escalating into overt threats. Melancholic city guards, who seemed to care about nothing, didn't even pretend to maintain order: they played dice and drank beer, and some blatantly dozed off.
"Master, be careful, it's easy to get robbed here," Aun warned me as if I couldn't have thought of it myself.
The caravan market of Tries not only looked like an eastern bazaar in a not-so-prosperous country but essentially was one. Here, you were not only actively invited to buy something. Particularly eager sellers could grab a potential buyer by the sleeve and drag them into their tent. Hawkers shouted right in your ear. Individuals wrapped in dark clothes from head to toe, without any shame or fear, offered dark rituals forbidden in Tries. Loud trading here and there escalated into small scuffles. Even Aun, who had clearly been here before, tried to stay closer to me. On the one hand, going here with the boy while we haven't figured out who is behind the assassination attempts on his life was risky. On the other hand, I not only wanted to look at the trading offers but also to provoke the killers to make the next move, and I was ready for anything.
Seemingly by some unique intuition of a hereditary trader, Aun accurately determined where we needed to go, what to ask whom, and which inconspicuous tent to peek into. In just an hour, I had seen so many fakes, imitations, and poor copies of various artifacts that I would not have seen in a week in Deytran. Meanwhile, each of these merchants assured that they had genuine and unique items and could even swear on the portable altar of Kamo standing nearby. However, all these altars were also fake and carried not a grain of divine grace.
At the end of the second hour, I had found only two interesting items. The first, upon closer examination, turned out to be a very high-quality copy. But the second was much more curious. It looked like a pin for long hair, made of silver, adorned by a small but purest emerald. At first glance, it was just a beautiful but ordinary decoration that would suit my new hairstyle. And if I hadn't seen something similar in the Last Cycle, I would have walked by without even a second glance. Asking the merchant to let me look at the pin closer, I took it in my hands and began to examine it more attentively. Thanks to the boosted Aura of Perception, I managed to see a very tiny script that spiraled along the pin's spike.
"Oh! You have spotted it!" The skinny-as-a-stick merchant immediately noted my reaction. "Vely fine wolk! So many wlitten on such a small pin!" His speech was unintelligible due to the lack of front teeth. "If you look closely, you'll see, the famous velse flom Ishia's bioglaphy. A velse about pulity. This hailpin not only looks exkisite, but it also keeps youl hail flee flom bad insects!"
The merchant was wrong; that verse was not about hair purity but the purity of mind. However, to understand the difference and nuances of verse writing, one has to be a priest or read the gods' biographies themselves. In fact, this hairpin was a signal artifact, notifying the owner of Mental magic. "Chime of Pure Mind" was its name, and on the Deytran market, such an item cost over six hundred full-weight gold pieces. Expensive - because only a Legendary Coil Mental master could create it, and they did not particularly like to make artifacts complicating their work. Yes, this item did not provide any protection; it only warned with a quiet mental ring about an attack, but even this was very good. Good, because the main danger of Mental magic is that you often don't suspect you've been bewitched until the very end.
"How much?" I asked with a bored voice.
"Thiltee thlee gold and thlee silvel!"
"I'm looking for a gift for a widow with whom I spent a pleasant night." I blatantly yawned at this proposal. "And such a sum for one night seems too big to me. So I'll pass." Having said that, I threw the hairpin on the carpet laid out in front of the merchant - as if it wasn't worth anything at all.
"Master!" The seller immediately yelled, "How could you! The stone alone costs two dozen!" His bad speech disappeared as if it never existed, becoming quite understandable and clear.
"Three, three gold is what such a small stone costs," I brought down the merchant.
"Where have you seen such prices?!!" The seller was carried away, and he jumped to his feet. "Three gold for an emerald of such purity?!!"
Bargaining at markets is a real art, a performance, a spectacle. Alas, I don't get pleasure from it, but my "past life" taught me this skill. So I haggled selflessly, to the point of hoarseness, even leaving the tent twice, but both times allowing the merchant to bring me back. This bargaining lasted almost an hour, and as a result, I left this toothless merchant with a purchase.
"Master," Aun spoke up when we were a dozen steps away from that stall, "I'm certainly impressed that you managed to drop the price from thirty-three gold and three silver to just twelve gold and ten silver. I say this as a merchant. But, Master, doesn't even twelve gold seem to you like too much to spend on a gift for one night of love?" The boy's voice was filled with unhidden judgment.
"I didn't buy this ornament for Miss Talia." I smile in response. "But for myself." To confirm my words, I immediately inserted the hairpin into my braid.
"Oh!" Aun's eyes widen as if they were saucers.
"And by the way," I lean toward the boy's ear and whisper, "do you know how much a similar thing sells for in the market of Deytran?"
"Is it really more than thirty-three gold?" The boy grins.
"More than six hundred. And yes, you heard right, more than six hundred gold."
These words shocked the boy so much that I had to push him forward because his legs seemed to fail him for a moment.
"So if anyone tells you that reading divine biographies is a useless endeavor, remember this case. The merchant didn't read and sold an expensive thing for a pittance, while I read and was able to identify this thing, spending almost six hundred less than its real cost. So reading holy texts is not only good for the soul, but also for the pocket!"
Aun clearly did not expect such a sermon from me, but I saw that my words fell on fertile ground. Such a striking demonstration as a profitable deal would touch any trader deeply.
We strolled through the market until almost sunset but found nothing else of interest. Also, nobody tried to harm Aun, although I could sense we were being watched. But no matter how much I looked around, I couldn't figure out who was observing us. So, to avoid risking it, we left the caravan market before the sun began to set beyond the city wall. Staying here in the evening twilight was unjustifiably dangerous.
Interestingly, throughout the entire time we spent at the caravan market, no one attempted to rob us. I think the reason for that is the spectacle I put on in the Arena today, and any thief could vividly imagine what would happen to him if he were caught by me.
[1] AN: If this comparison tells you nothing, just pass it by, it's not a critical reference.
TLN: I googled it anyway: "These cortical implants were also used on the Primarch Angron when he was enslaved by the ruling Nucerian elite of the city-state of Desh'ea, turning him into a killer the likes of which they had never before seen. He became Angron Thal'kyr, Lord of the Red Sands, the greatest gladiator that world had ever known."
(https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Butcher%27s_Nails).