Novels2Search
The Garden
Book 2: Chapter 8

Book 2: Chapter 8

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I woke to the sound of a door opening. Benson was there, a pensive look on his face.

“What time is it?” I asked, sitting upright. My voice was rough.

“It’s early morning,” replied Benson. “You slept for a full day. I paid for an extra night here already.”

“A full day,” I repeated under my breath, reeling from the shock. I knew I was tired, but to sleep a full day away… I didn’t have a lot of time until the meeting at the Capitol. Every day mattered, and missing one wasn’t excusable. Plans began to take form in my mind. I needed to make up for lost time.

“I caught three thieves watching your room,” Benson said, breaking my concentration. “I tied them and turned them in to the city guard. You paying five High Marks up front to the Captain put you on the city’s radar, Mistress.”

“That’s fine,” I said, still gathering my thoughts. “I want them to know I have money. I intend to open a shop here, after all. Them knowing I have the capital to rent or buy will help move things along faster. We should use this morning to look at the wares for sale in the city and their prices. We’ll find Guine after that and see about meeting her father. She mentioned that he could help us out… Oh, how did the meeting with the Captain go, Benson?”

“The man was staunch but likable,” Benson replied, an odd smile on his face.

“He didn’t seem to like you too much when we met…” I said, the skepticism in my voice apparent.

“The Captain respects two things, The Law and Strength,” said Benson. “He didn’t like me because I disobeyed the law when I entered the labyrinth without going through the check in. He started liking me when I fought him and won.”

“You fought him?” I asked.

“Yes. He asked me to reveal the real reason why we entered the labyrinth. I refused. He challenged me to a duel with the information as his stake, and our five High Mark payment back as ours.”

“And you accepted?”

“Of course,” he replied with a vicious grin.

I sighed. “Benson you definitely aren’t suited for subtlety, huh?”

He almost looked hurt. “Mistress, I am an expert on stealth…”

I waved my hands, stopping him. “I know, Benson. Does this Inn have a bath I can use to clean up? My armor may be self cleaning, but I’m not.”

“There is a shared washbasin in the backyard. It has wooden stalls for privacy,” said Benson, seemingly happy for a change of subject. I shuddered at the exhibitionist nature behind such a system. I think I would rather try to swim in Mire’s Lake with the Venom Wyrms.

For breakfast we opted to eat from our rations. Benson produced some strange jerky; it tasted almost like a mix between beef and venison. It was sweeter than I expected without sugars or other common spices.

With our stomachs sated, public baths avoided, and mind magics slept off we headed towards the market.

The early morning city was abuzz with people, completely opposite from Golden Thrush Town. Twice I almost bumped into a man delivering bottles of milk to homes and apartments. The city even seemed to have a newspaper of sorts too.

I paid a Low Mark to one of the delivery boys and was handed a thick papyrus-based newspaper. The headline, for some terrifying reason, featured a sketch-drawn image of me by the Labyrinth door. The headline read: “C Rank Adventurer Explores Labyrinth Alone, Comes Out Without Scratch!”

I paled a bit, but my nervousness faded when I realized just how ‘off’ the sketch of me really was. The picture was black and white, for one thing, so the hair color couldn’t give me away. The second thing to note was how small the image made me seem. Perhaps it added to the ‘David versus Goliath’ setup from the headline if they showed a tiny woman challenging the Labyrinth alone. It didn’t look like I could be identified from it, thankfully. A world without cameras would make reporting news a difficult profession.

I flipped through the rest of the articles in the paper, smiling at how sleazy they all seemed. Most either accused local clergy of having affairs, questioned the ethics of the Pope’s tolerance towards ‘demi-humans’, or speculated on whether Aunty Selina’s Candy Factory was secretly using human remains in their newest invention, caramel.

It was a tabloid. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t read everything in it, either. The writing didn’t seem to be in English, but I had no problem translating it. It felt natural, and it weirded me out. It reminded me of when, under Cerberus’s control, I could read the word ‘Labyrinth’ over the massive entryway. Could his mind-magics have permanent effects on me? A shiver ran down my spine.

Forcing the thought to the back of my mind, I stealthily slipped the tabloid into my ‘Inventory’ to look over in more depth later.

We arrived at a large square with shops lining both sides. The storefronts seemed to be connected to larger buildings in the back, the workshops where the goods were manufactured.

“Benson, keep your eyes open. Pick out the highest ranked equipment you can,” I said, keeping my voice low so we couldn’t be overheard.

“I propose we split up to cover more ground, Mistress,” Benson replied.

“I’d normally agree, Benson, but it’s more important we stay together. I want people to know you’re with me.”

As we walked through the marketplace, I had a hard time finding a single piece of Ranked Equipment. Most were unranked and, quite frankly, awful. The people in this world seemed much higher level than their gear by comparison. It was astounding how low the quality of weapons and armors were.

Benson and I had a hard time even finding an apothecary. When we did, the potions available were lackluster. I found three basic salves that almost qualified as Rank 1. They were very low grade and, to be fair, would heal minor injuries only.

At my wits end, I walked into the rumored ‘best smithy’ in the city: ‘Bayne’s Sword and Chord’.

The shop stood in the corner of the square but a large number of people moved in and out of it. Swords, armors, and -oddly- guitars were on display. The name of the place made sense, now, but I was still a bit concerned. I didn’t know much about the evolution of instruments, but I was fairly certain the modern acoustic guitars weren’t around in the middle ages. I knew lutes and other predecessors existed… This world seemed to be closer to the industrial revolution in terms of development. Paper existed, even if it was crude, and magic-powered machines were used on farmsteads back at Golden Thrush. Perhaps I had let my own preconceptions and assumptions cloud my judgement. This world wasn’t equivalent to the middle ages, and I needed to stop thinking it was.

The inside of the shop surprised me. It was much larger than I expected, with the opening foyer stretching as much as a gymnasium into a large room. Several armored men stood guard at intervals, with those intervals increasing the further in the building I went. Near the outside of the shop I found several cheap-looking guitars and low unranked swords, but as I moved inwards the quality shot up drastically. After passing the third guard, every other sword or armor on display met the requirements for Rank 1. The guitars improved in designs as well, from rough wooden lumbering things to sleek efficient designs with magic amplification runes engraved on the sides.

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Finally Benson and I came to a wall of guards standing in front of a display case. Behind them, on a pedestal, sat a Rank 3 weapon. The engraving on the pedestal read:

Master Bayne’s Treasure: This sword, found in the depths of the Labyrinth, has been repaired by the master smith Bayne himself. The blade holds its edge no matter how many blows it strikes and it cuts through armors with ease… But the sword bears a curse. He who wields it is slowly drained of their magic, until nothing is left.

I wanted hit someone. I could see the magic circuits on the sword. They took mana from the user and converted them into sharpness and resilience runes, but there was no limiter. It was shoddy workmanship. Seeing something I loved, like magic circuits, butchered to this degree hurt my soul.

“It’s a beauty isn ‘er?” Asked a man’s voice. I turned to my side to see a tall fellow with a square jaw. His hair, brown and short, curled a bit over his forehead and his cheeks were lined with stubble. His arms hung forward, almost like a gorilla's, and his back hunched a bit.

“No,” I replied, my voice cold. “The magic circuits are shoddy and there’s no limiter. Whoever designed them made a mess of things. It looks like the work of a butcher not a craftsman.”

“Oh?” The man replied, his voice tinged with curiosity. “You know about weapon enchantments, lass?”

“Yes, and this is no treasure. It’s a failed product,” I said, almost forgetting myself.

“Interesting. Do you think you could show me what you mean?” The man asked as he walked forward, parting the guards. He took the sword in both hands and motioned me towards a workbench in the back of the room. It was at this point I realized my mistake… But I also saw an opportunity. If this was the best smithy in town this would surely be the key to any kind of craftsman guild where I could gather information from.

I followed the man and pulled tools from my storage. His were too shoddy to work with.

“You even have an interspatial storage! Now I’m even excited. So, lass, show me what you can do with this magic circuit.”

I didn’t wait and quickly got to work on altering the sharpening runes. I carved a limiter, something low level warriors could handle, and then I added reinforcements to the runes themselves. I didn’t even notice the time slipping away nor the old man’s staring. I quickly was wrapped up in the euphoria of crafting, something I had sorely been missing over the last few days of travel and rest. It felt like a lullaby for my soul. I moved to the rhythm as I carved out the circuits, and I started to hum.

When I finished, the man’s voice woke me from my stupor. “My daughter told me you were skilled, but I’ve never even seen a master enchanter work half as skilled as you, lass.”

I looked down at the sword, clearly a Rank 5 weapon now, and could only give a sheepish grin to the man.

“My guess is you’re Guine’s father…” I said in a quiet voice.

“That’s right, lass. She pointed you out to me when you walked in the store. She’s over there,” he pointed towards one of the service counters. Guine was waving.

I returned her wave with a more timid version. I had gone overboard. I spent the morning berating Benson for his lack of subtlety and then I did something like this.

I shook my head in an attempt to gather my bearings.

“I understand you want to open your own shop here in town?” Asked Guine’s father.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice small.

“With this quality of work, you’d probably run me out of business, lass. How about we set you up a workshop and you make goods for my store instead. We’ll publicize you as the creator and that way you won't make a rival out of me,” said Guine’s father. His voice veiled the threat, but I picked it out without a problem; anger bloomed inside me. I never took kindly to threats.

“Trying to take advantage of me?” I asked, my confidence returning in a huge surge and my voice laced with venom. “The way I see it, you owe me about 30 High Marks for the work done on this sword here. Now you’re demanding I work for you? Not to mention you expect to do business with me when you haven’t even introduced yourself," I paused to give an appropriate bow. "My name is November, the Artisan Supreme, and if you think your threat of becoming enemies holds any sway on me then you’re sorely mistaken. My bodyguard can take on a Venom Wyrm without getting injured,” I pointed towards Benson, a sadistic smile on my lips. “You can even ask your daughter about that. Now you can either introduce yourself properly, promptly shut your mouth, and listen to my proposal; or you can make me your enemy, and -trust me- you don’t want me as your enemy.”

I released a surge of my mana, focusing it towards the old man. He nearly crumpled from the weight. His guards tried to step forward to protect him, but none could even move under the strain my mana induced. I wasn’t strong in a fight, but I was still maximum level back in Xternity. The sheer quantity of mana I had at my disposal dwarfed anything this podunk labyrinth town could produce -Outside of Cerberus himself, of course-.

“M-my name is Charles Bayne,” replied Guine’s father, sweat running down his forehead. He hit his knees and stopped talking.

All at once I canceled out my mana pressure. “Good. I’m glad you understand your position in this business relationship,” I said with a smile. “Now I’ll be opening up my own store in town where I will sell top-quality goods... by your standards. I will not be taking many of your customers due to the excessive prices, so you needn’t worry about having your livelihood ruined. I will also sell you a percentage of my goods in exchange for information. This information can pertain to anything, so long as it’s interesting. I will determine the value of the information in goods when you relay it to me. If you have a problem with these terms I can always have your daughter inherit this store. I’m certain she’d be more than willing to cooperate with me…”

I flashed a devil’s grin as I reached down to lift Charles off his knees. I even dusted his shoulders for him. During our conversation his guards didn’t try to intervene because he held his hand up to stop them; such proper actions deserved to be rewarded.

“W-what kind of information in particular do you want?” Charles asked, getting to the crux of the issue.

“I’m glad you asked,” I said, my smile finally touching the corners of my eyes. “I can tell, Charles, that we’re going to have a beautiful business relationship.”

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