"But we are alive," Katashi said in his characteristic ostentatiously indifferent manner, examining the small bouquet of wildflowers in my hand.
"I'm not arguing with that fact," I smirked in response. "But someone apparently decided that we had ended up staying in the Garnet Grotto forever."
"Well, it happens," shrugged the Japanese. "We'll go and explain that they were wrong and that we coped with the clearing."
"Of course, we'll go," I fully supported the blacksmith. "And we'll explain... Definitely, we'll explain..."
"Sometimes I find it hard to understand people," Katashi grimaced, then added, "but it seemed to me that you were somewhat angry just now."
"Let's just say, according to local beliefs, declaring someone dead prematurely is far from a good omen," I struggled with the urge to crush the bouquet and throw it away, explaining some nuances to the Japanese, "And given that magic exists in Ain and various rituals are practiced, people take folk omens much more seriously here than in our common homeland."
"But we are alive," the blacksmith repeated his thought, not understanding my reaction.
"Alive, alive..." I nodded. "Let's go visit Ilakris. First, we need to settle up. And second, as you suggested, we'll explain to him and the local sheriff how they were mistaken in declaring us dead so hastily."
To my relief, Katashi did not notice the obvious sarcasm in my voice and did not ask for clarification. Halfway to the village, I made the Japanese don the remains of his armor. Katashi was reluctant to do so, but I insisted, and he had to comply, creating quite a pitiful sight, which was exactly what I needed. I also insisted again that I would be the one talking with the locals, and his job was to stand aside and nod. Nod, even if he didn't quite understand what was being discussed. Many earthlings would object to such a role of a silent bobblehead, but having grown up in a patriarchal Japanese family, Katashi understood better than many what social division is and how important the formal status of the interlocutors can be.
As we walked along the winding path, I mulled over possible outcomes for my upcoming conversation with Ilakris. The sun had already set, and the best scenario would have been if the head of the local tunnellers was already asleep, and here we, the ones he had written off as dead, would suddenly show up at his house. It was a moment that could be played very effectively, and I even imagined in detail how I would act out such a scene.
Unfortunately, despite it being after sunset, Ilakris was not asleep. One of the peasants, with whom I had exchanged a few words yesterday, hinted that the sheriff and the captain of the tunnellers had left for the river a couple of hours ago with a large basket in tow. They had been seen not long ago sitting on the steep bank, chatting over a bottle of strong wine. I thanked the peasant for the information and, nodding at Katashi to keep up, headed in the indicated direction.
Ilakris and Sheriff Romer were easy to find. This pair of not-so-young men had comfortably settled on the riverbank. They had lit a small but cozy fire, laid out mats, spread snacks on the grass, and were leisurely drinking from deep bowls.
For greater theatrical effect, as I approached closer, I activated "Flashlight," adjusting its intensity so that the spell illuminated me with a dim, ghostly light.
Romer was the first to notice our approach. The sheriff was quietly replying to the head of the tunnellers and, getting carried away, waved his hand and turned towards the village. Of course, he immediately spotted us. The sheriff's eyes widened, and the recently consumed wine nearly shot out of his nose. He tried to shout something, but instead of coherent speech, only a gurgle escaped his throat. Romer jumped to his feet, instinctively reaching for his sword, but then his feet slipped on the unreliable riverbank slope, and he, flailing his arms absurdly, unbecoming of a warrior of Steel, tumbled backward and plunged right into the river.
Ilakris's reaction was not as violent. Turning pale as a freshly laundered sheet, the head of the tunnellers watched the sheriff's fall from the corner of his eye but made no sudden movements himself. Instead of shouting or fussing, he drew his sword, and the air around him trembled with the protective spells of the Air Element.
I was very curious about how Katashi was reacting to all this, but it was inappropriate to turn around and look, so I had to be content with guesses.
Ignoring Ilakris's clearly hostile preparations, I continued walking forward without changing my pace. With each step, I gradually dimmed the effect of the "Flashlight" so that by the time I was only a few steps from the campfire, the spell had faded away on its own. Yes, all this smacked of low-grade theater, but nevertheless, judging by how the sword trembled in the hands of the experienced warrior of Wootz, I played the scene right, and the "audience" was moved. Moreover, the silent Katashi following me, with his usual expressionless face and dressed in the tatters of once beautiful armor, clearly added to the atmosphere of the event.
Approaching within five steps, I stopped, not daring to come closer so as not to provoke the already nervous Ilakris. A fight with the head of the local tunnellers was not in my plans, and I had entirely different intentions for this scene and the upcoming dialogue…
"Explain yourself," I said dryly, cawing like a raven, intensifying the effect with the play of shadows on my already bird-like face, and threw a bouquet of field flowers I picked at the entrance to the Garnet Grotto at Ilakris's feet.
Watching the flight of the gatekeeper bundle, the tunneller said nothing, only gripping the hilt of his sword tighter, as if preparing for a final battle with the undead coming for his soul. To avoid escalating the situation to a real fight, I reached out to the blade of Striking Whisper, intending to slightly cut my hand and show that ordinary blood flowed in me. This was meant to prove that I was not an undead but a normal person.
But my plan was not meant to work. Just at that moment, one of the barely held-together parts of what was left of Katashi's armor apparently tore and fell to the ground with a characteristic metallic screech. This sharp and unexpected sound was the last straw that overwhelmed Ilakris' nervous tension. And with a scream:
"In the name of Antares!"
The tunneller rushed towards me, raising his sword to cleave what he thought was an undead risen from non-existence into two halves.
Well. It seems I overdid it a bit with my act...
Due to the speed and surprise of the attack, I no longer had time to explain, so I had to engage in battle. The shaft of Striking Whisper met the blade of the opponent's sword, deflecting the blow to the side, thus winning me a fraction of a second. A fraction enough for me to counterattack.
Normally, the undead in the world of Ain are stronger and more resilient than living creatures, but they are slower. Since Ilakris considered me as such an undead at that moment, he clearly was not ready for the speed with which I responded to the attack. He overcommitted in his lunge and failed to bring the hand gripping the sword back to a defensive stance in time. I took advantage of this, and my palm, bearing a drawn with the Illusion Magic Rune of Destruction, reached his forearm.
Of course, killing Ilakris was not part of my plans, but playing softly with an experienced Wootz warrior, who definitely had more than one ace up his sleeve, would be quite unwise. So, I decided to end the fight as quickly as possible, albeit rather harshly, but without bringing it to a killing point. As for broken bones, they can always be healed.
"Des." My lips whispered.
The activated Rune threw Ilakris half a meter to the side. However, contrary to my calculations, he not only did not lose the ability to fight, but he didn't even drop his sword. And his arm did not turn into a crushed mess of bones and flesh. Yes, the tunneller was significantly shaken, but no more, and he did not sustain any serious injuries from the Rune's activation.
"Spirit Armor" was not a technique every warrior of Wootz rank could master, but it seemed Ilakris was one of those who were up to the challenge. This technique, widespread in the Precious Coil, was precisely why the simple magic of individual Runes was losing its relevance. By surrounding their body with a layer of condensed prana flowing in a specific pattern, the user of this technique negated the simplest spells aimed at them and prevented any harmful signs from being inflicted on their body. By the way, I should have learned this technique long ago, too, but I was always running somewhere, hurrying, missing out on many fundamental things.
Nevertheless, my unexpected attack granted me a certain tactical advantage, which I did not fail to exploit. Striking Whisper soared into the air and, spinning wildly, unleashed a barrage of strikes on the off-balance tunneller. The whirlwind I spun up to my available limits tore through the air with such ferocity that it could only wail helplessly, unable to clear the path of the spear's shaft quickly enough. This wailing, coupled with the recent pale light from the Flashlight and my ghastly voice, apparently convinced Ilakris that he was dealing with some sort of undead creature. The initial pallor left his face, and in the tunneller's eyes, I saw a resolute determination to put the dead to rest and thus protect his native village. It seemed he had no doubt that after dealing with him and the sheriff, we would return and slaughter the entire settlement.
Despite the speed of my attacks, Ilakris, having switched to full defense, managed to parry each of my thrusts. He made only one mistake in the first few seconds, but if I had exploited his lapse, I would have had to deliver a fatal blow, so at the last moment, I stayed my hand, as killing the tunneller was not part of my plans. To my great annoyance, Ilakris proved to be one of those who, despite being stuck at Wootz and unable to cross the First Wall, did not give up but continued to train and improve. A skilled warrior who, unlike me, possessed a diverse assortment of spells, techniques, and maneuvers. A duel with such an opponent would grace any Wootz rank tournament.
In addition to the sword and Wind, the tunneller, as it turned out, mastered Water Magic, which almost caught me off guard. I thought he was retreating under the barrage of my strikes, barely managing to parry them and not even thinking about attacking. But, in reality, all this time, the tunneller was moving closer to the river. And when he got close enough, I was hit by the spell "Water Column" in the side. And he almost caught me with that move! I was only able to dodge the ramming hit of the condensed water at the last moment, at the cost of having to stop the flurry of my attacks.
Disrupting the pattern of my fight, Ilakris, as befits an experienced warrior, immediately launched a counterattack, not giving me a chance to recover. Noticing the characteristic trembling of the air on the edge of the tunneller's sword, I was forced to fall on my back, letting the "Wind Blade" spell pass over me. If I had been wearing proper armor, I might have risked taking the magic on it, but in this case, I had to dodge.
As I somersaulted away from Ilakris's next cascade of attacks, I noticed that the sheriff had meanwhile emerged from the river and immediately attacked Katashi. And while the Japanese was at Wootz and Romer at Steel, the smith, armed only with a one-handed war hammer, clearly had a tough time.
This change in the situation fundamentally altered my attitude towards what was happening. If just a second ago it seemed like an annoying, but generally fixable misunderstanding, now everything had become much more serious. Because I could not risk Katashi's life. And that meant I had to finish my duel with the head of the tunnellers right now. Even if it meant I had to kill Ilakris. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it. He chose this fate himself by attacking us out of fright.
No matter how experienced Ilakris was and how many dungeons he had cleared in his life, it was evident that he was used to fighting against monsters and dungeon creatures, not against people. His swordsmanship was good for clearing dungeons, but it had critical flaws when facing another human. Like many in Ain, he paid little attention to protecting his hands and was quite easily fooled by feints, which was no wonder, as most monsters attacked straightforwardly.
Pretending to stumble, I swung my spear awkwardly, as it seemed from the outside, trying to maintain my balance. My opponent decided to take advantage of this immediately. With "Wind Fist," he tried to hit my knee to exacerbate my loss of balance, while simultaneously executing a swift attack. That's when I caught him. Instead of firmly standing up, I continued the falling motion, but at the last moment, I stopped my fall with the shaft of the spear and, pushing off the ground with Striking Whisper like a pole, I lunged at Ilakris, catching him off-guard. The Lightning Dagger, pulled from my belt, flashed like a silver fish under the guard of his sword and headed for the tunneller's belly. But at the last moment, I saw another opportunity, and the blade of the dagger veered higher, slicing through the bend of Ilakris's right elbow. With a muffled cry, the tunneller immediately dropped his sword. And I, flipping the dagger to a reverse grip and using the weapon as a weight, enhanced myself with Bull's Strength and connected with Ilakris's jaw. Wootz warriors are, of course, very strong and resilient, but after such a hit, the tunneller's eyes rolled back, and he started to fall onto the grass.
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Wasting no time, I added another hit with the handle to the back of his head and immediately turned around, ready to assist Katashi. But the Japanese didn't need any help. Engaging in a clinch with the sheriff, the smith, contrary to all local combat rules, spun around, exposing his back. But before Romer could take advantage of this "mistake," Katashi's elbow, following his rotation, impressively connected with the sheriff's temple, sending the latter into a world of dreams.
Not bad at all! Honestly. I appreciated it and gave a thumbs up. Shrugging, accepting my praise as a matter of course, the Japanese managed to catch Romer's sagging body and neatly laid him on the ground.
"You have a rather strange idea of how to conduct business negotiations," Katashi said with undisguised sarcasm.
"The first stage of the negotiations went a bit rough, but I have everything under control," I replied with the most innocent of smiles. "Now, let's disarm this overly nervous pair and then bring them back to consciousness."
We didn't bother to bind or immobilize the stunned men. We seated them, propped up by their shoulders so they wouldn't fall backward, after which, without any coddling, I placed my hands on their legs and struck them both with Discharge. A minimal impulse, of course, but it was enough to wake the pair up.
I must give them credit: neither the tunneller captain nor the local sheriff showed overt fear upon regaining consciousness, although their looks clearly indicated that they understood they had lost and were at the mercy of those they had mistaken for risen undead or something similar.
Before saying anything and trying to convince them of their mistake, I removed the guild's Sign from my chest. I twirled it before the locals' eyes, letting them examine all the details, including the Ishid Scroll engraved on its surface. Then, deliberately slowly, I cut my left palm with the sharp edge of the Sign. I let the heavy red drops of blood fall into the fire, and to dispel all doubts completely, I ignited the Symbol of Affinity with Light above the bloodied hand. After that, I raised a calm but ominous gaze on the locals.
For a second, a look of relief flashed in the eyes of the fighters sitting opposite, as they realized that they were not captured by some undead. But this relief was short-lived because both the tunneller captain and the local law enforcer quickly realized what they had done by attacking a Guild Sheriff without just cause. By local laws and rules, I could kill them right here and now. And then simply affirm the statement that they attacked me first by invoking the Symbol of Affinity with Light or by placing my hand on the Book of Ishid at any branch of the Tunnellers' Guild. Everyone would recognize my full right to execute these two. This realization was clearly visible in the eyes of those sitting opposite.
"So..." I began deliberately slowly, "the Garnet Grotto is cleared. Anyone can see this by inspecting the Entrance Gate of the dungeon. As you can see, we're alive." As I spoke, I dripped a few drops of healing potion onto my cut palm. "And I would very much like to know why you declared us dead despite all the unwritten rules and customs, not waiting for the required twelve hours before the dungeon's Reset." To strengthen the effect, I threw a bouquet of nearly dried flowers that I had picked up earlier onto the ground.
Ilakris and Romer initially started talking at the same time. They stopped, realizing they were interrupting each other, exchanged glances, and with a nod, the sheriff "gave the floor" to his companion, who had a higher rank.
The captain of the tunnellers wasn't eloquent to begin with, which was further aggravated by his understanding of how seriously they had messed up. His speech was choppy and disjointed. He would start talking about one thing and then suddenly jump to another. I could have taken control of the conversation and started asking leading questions, but I didn't want to disrupt the tunneller's flow of thought. His poorly connected, disorganized, and fragmented story could be boiled down to just a few sentences. As it turned out, they initially didn't believe that the two of us could clear the Garnet Grotto. That is, from the very beginning, they were quite pessimistic. According to their assumptions, we both had only recently ascended to Wootz, poorly understood the complexity of dungeons of this Rank, and misjudged our capabilities. Yes, Romer, in their argument, bet that we would manage, but he did it more out of a sense of contradiction than he really believed in our success.
Both Ilakris and Romer had heard multiple stories of overconfident young warriors and mages who thought they were better than others and tried to advance up the Stairway of Ascension as quickly as possible. Each of these rookies, if they didn't come to their senses in time, would eventually bite off more than they could chew, and their rapid Ascension would ingloriously end. It was to such upstarts that this pair had classified us. And to give Ilakris credit, he honestly tried to dissuade me from attempting to clear the dungeon with such small forces from the very beginning.
These initial expectations of the locals were compounded by the fact that barely an hour after we entered the Garnet Grotto, both the tunneller captain and the sheriff simultaneously felt what they called the "Breath of Death." Ilakris named this sensation quite dramatically, and Romer immediately confirmed the tunneller's statement. According to them, it wasn't a vague or barely perceptible feeling, but rather like a tangible sense of death's presence right nearby. "As if She is breathing over your shoulder." Moreover, this "breath" clearly emanated from the Gate of the Garnet Grotto. At this point, Ilakris's narrative became very incoherent and erratic, as if he was trying to convince me that he hadn't gone mad, and that he hadn't imagined it all, but that it was indeed real.
Hearing about this "Breath of Death," I exchanged glances with Katashi. Indeed, around that time, I came under the influence of the Lethal Beauty. Apparently, the close presence of such a powerful Aspect of Non-Existence was felt by Ilakris and Romer. But since they couldn't know what was actually happening in the dungeon at that moment, they both concluded that they had sensed our doom. Since the feeling of imminent death that they experienced was so complete and even "tangible," and they both felt it at the same time, the conclusion they eventually reached was, in its own way, logical.
Nevertheless, they didn't "declare us dead" right away. According to Ilakris, their group usually took four hours to clear the Grotto, but they waited for us twice as long. Only when eight hours had passed since Katashi and I went through the Gate did the tunneller and the sheriff decide that further waiting was pointless. Ilakris personally picked gatekeeper flowers, tied them into a small bouquet, and laid it at the Entrance. After that, they returned to the village and, grabbing a basket of provisions and a bottle of strong wine, headed here, to the riverbank, to "mourn" us. We caught them in this sad activity, appearing quite unexpectedly from the night's darkness, surrounded by a pale ghostly light.
"One question." Having listened to this disjointed story for the second time, I leaned forward. "Before considering us dead, wouldn't it be simpler to try entering the dungeon?" They just blinked, not understanding, so I had to clarify. "Because if we were dead, the Gate would be Open, but if we were still alive, the dungeon would still be occupied, and the Gate, accordingly, Closed."
"Uh..." Ilakris tried to say something but immediately fell silent, helplessly exchanging glances with Romer, who only responded with an equally bewildered look.
It was clear; such a simple solution had not even occurred to them. It happens; what seems obvious to one is an insurmountable puzzle to another. Having watched enough of this pair exchanging glances, I clapped my hands sharply and said:
"Alright, we've heard you and even understood. Now, we need to decide what to do next. As you realize, I can hardly turn a blind eye to an attempt on the life of a Guild Sheriff, even under the pretext that you mistook my partner and me for some unknown undead..."
***
"I would never believe that not only did we not give away the share we were supposed to according to the preliminary rental agreement for the Garnet Grotto... But they also paid all the taxes for us and even gave us a solatium, albeit small and largely symbolic," Katashi began with a smirk after we had parted ways with Ilakris and Sheriff Romer and were walking back towards Bordum on the trade route. "It all seemed to happen by itself; I can hardly believe it."
"Are you unhappy about something?" I asked without turning around, patting my purse demonstratively. "Did you really want to give away almost half of our haul to strangers?"
"You intimidated them so much that not even the regional sheriff thought to ask how many and what kind of stones we found. They calculated the taxes and shares based on an average, and you didn't correct them."
"That's not true," I objected, shrugging. "I didn't intimidate anyone. They offered to do the calculations themselves; I just didn't stop them."
"Really?" The sarcasm in the blacksmith's voice was hard to miss.
"Really. Because it wasn't about intimidating them, it was about pressuring them based on an actual crime committed against us. And notice, Ilakris and Romer were incredibly pleased to get off so lightly. I didn't need to intimidate them; they managed that perfectly well on their own."
"Something tells me that as soon as you noticed that bouquet at the entrance, you immediately thought of something similar."
"Partly," I didn't feel the need to justify myself. "Of course, I didn't expect the captain of the tunnellers and the sheriff to react so violently. Their attack was as much a surprise to me as it was to you. But you are right that I wanted to use the story with the bouquet to our advantage," I added, remembering the straightforward nature of the Japanese. "Such a bouquet essentially means a funeral for the still living, which, by local standards, is considered a rather grave offense. This is somewhat understandable, as local magic is largely built on symbolism and similarity, meaning such 'funerals' are thought to attract death to the living. Naturally, noticing such an oversight by Ilakris, I wanted to use the presence of the 'farewell bouquet' as an additional bargaining chip," I explain further with a heavy sigh. "But I could never have imagined that the situation would go this far."
"Could never have imagined..." Katashi snorted. "Yet you used the situation to the fullest, squeezing out everything possible, and even seemingly impossible, from the locals to the extent that they ended up owing us, promising to sell me stones at cost in the future."
"If you're unhappy with something, just say it." I turned to the Japanese and slapped the backpack on his back with my palm. "If something bothers you, you can go back and 'share' your portion with Ilakris."
"What bothers me is that everything ultimately turned out very differently from what was agreed upon beforehand," the smith retorted sharply, meeting my gaze.
"And I would understand your indignation if it had been me who suggested revising the initial agreement," I said, not hiding a smirk. "But notice, it was Ilakris who suggested it himself! I didn't even broach the topic. Everything else, including the solatium and the future sale of the stones to you at minimal markup, he also suggested on his own. Wasn't it so?"
"It was."
"Also, if you were so dissatisfied with the situation, why didn't you object?"
"I promised to keep silent, and I did," the Japanese snapped back immediately.
"Speak clearly: do you want to accuse me of dishonest business practices?"
"Formally, there's nothing to complain about. You indeed just took advantage of the situation," Katashi agreed after a brief consideration.
"So what's the problem then?"
"The thing is, I was about to agree to your offer and take on the task of crafting the armor you conceived..." the smith answered with a wry smile. "But now I fear that as a result of this work, I'll not only earn nothing but will also end up owing you."
"How about you check your backpack to see whether it's profitable to deal with me or not?" Understanding that any justification led to defeat, I counterattacked immediately.
Katashi was clearly unprepared for such a turn in the dialogue and found nothing to say in response. After a minute of silence, I added:
"I adhere to preliminary agreements, but not when the other party tries to kill me."
"Looking at the situation from that perspective..." It seemed I'd gotten through to the Japanese, and he no longer perceived the situation so one-sidedly.
Realizing that further dialogue would lead nowhere, I left the Japanese in silence. Let him think for himself. I personally genuinely believed I did nothing wrong. Yes, I took advantage of the situation and "didn't share" with the locals as previously agreed. That was true! But there was also a pretty substantial reason to reconsider the initial agreement; there was no need to attack us with drawn weapons and try to kill us. Essentially, I could have executed Ilakris and Romer on the spot or killed them both in combat, and it would have been within my rights. So, the fact that they got off very easily, paying only a formal solatium and losing out on a profit they didn't even know about, can hardly be called a loss as such.
However, I also understood Katashi's concern. As a rational person, he looked at the situation from the angle of "Won't this Raven pull something similar on me?" The real problem was that, caught up in preserving the loot from the Garnet Grotto, I hadn't even considered how my negotiation tactics might look from the blacksmith's perspective. This was a true oversight. A mistake that could no longer be corrected.
We walked side by side all night in silence, not uttering a single word. What the blacksmith thought was unknown to me, and I remained quiet for fear of making things even worse. So, in complete silence, with the first rays of the sun rising over the horizon, we reached the outskirts of Hamna.
When only about ten minutes of leisurely walking remained to his smithy, Katashi stepped off the path and descended to the river. Without asking anything, I followed him. The Japanese dropped his things on the ground, leisurely washed his face in the flowing water, and then watched the sunrise for almost a minute before turning sharply to me.
"I'll accept your offer," he said, crossing his arms. "But I'll do it my way. The only thing I can promise is that I'll try to consider all your wishes. Nothing more. If I decide to do differently than you would like, you will not stop me." Not hearing any objections from me, he continued. "Regarding the money. I won't take a copper from you for the work, but all materials are at your expense, as is the payment for external labor. By external labor, I mean those tasks that are easier for me to hand over to other masters without loss of quality. Without such outsourcing, I alone will be making the armor you need for no less than three weeks, perhaps even a month, which will probably not suit you. Furthermore..." Here, he paused and fell silent, noticing that I was not listening but rummaging through my purse. "Not interested?" the Japanese asked sharply and displeased.
"Interested," I waved him off, actually busy with something else. "And I accept all your terms. But there's one nuance."
"And what is that?" he asked, clearly annoyed and, apparently, fearing a catch.
"You'll have to start alone," I said, examining a broken signal artifact in my palm, the other half of which I had left with Arien just over a week ago...
End of Volume 6.