A large group of fifty or so people had gathered in front of the city walls.
Emil’s and Ira’s youthful faces stood out among the crowd, so they drew the gazes of a few curious people. But, everyone here qualified for the strength requirement, so they eventually moved on.
Standing at the lead of the group was a group of three. One was an elderly man with a stern, scarred face. He stood with his back ramrod straight and arms folded behind his back. Flanking his sides, two women stood in a similar manner with somber expressions. The immediate impression that anyone got from the trio was that they were uptight.
Ira let out a low whistle as she gazed at them, her crimson eyes glistening. “That old man might be worth something,” she appraised in a quiet voice.
Emil glanced at her then back at him before nodding his head. He got the sensation that the leader of the group was stronger than everyone here. He wondered what level he was at. Other than the Night Sage and Duke Alexander, this was the strongest person he’d laid his eyes on. He was weaker than them, though.
The man spoke in a deep, commanding voice, “The object of your mission is to investigate the manor left by our late master. You may take any items that you deem to be of value. All you are responsible for is building a clear path to the inheritance--of which, you are not allowed to touch. Do not even gaze at it.”
“Are you fine with that? Us taking anything we find? What if we take it all?” one man from the crowd spoke up.
His eyes slid over to the speaker. There was a barely perceptible sneer on his face. “That’s fine.”
“Ira,” Emil whispered.
“What?”
“For the first mission, did they offer the same rewards?”
“I believe so,” she stated while stretching out her arms. “Aren’t they cruel?”
Emil nodded his head and gazed towards the leader of the trio with a deep look in his eyes. “Well, whatever…”
Even if that was their intention, he didn’t plan on getting involved. He didn’t consider himself a warrior of justice, after all. He’d clear the mission, collect the ten gold, and move on. He looked at Ira. Based off her comment, she also knew what was going on. That was probably her intention, as well. Scratch that. She just wanted a fight, meaning she wouldn’t sweat the details.
Emil crossed his arms behind his head and sighed, his drooping eyelids shutting as the man continued to speak. The first few traps had already been dismantled by the initial group, which was the only thing worthwhile to listen to.
Ira wasn’t paying much attention either and was doing light warm-ups. “Emil, how fast are you?”
He shrugged. He went through physical training with the Night Sage, but he still wasn’t at Ira’s level. Still, Emil could move relatively fast.
“Well. Once they open up the gate, we’re charging in.”
“Why?”
She laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re ditching these guys.”
Emil looked around at the forty-eight others. He didn’t know how many others had caught on, so Ira’s plan of going off on their own was probably for the best. If not, they’d wind up getting involved. He rolled his neck. “I understand,” he stated plainly.
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Ira smirked at him, vague amusement evident on her face.
“Well, we’ll be opening the portal to the ruins now,” the elderly man, Reynold, stated. He then nodded at the women flanking his side.
They begin to whisper a spell underneath their breath after forming a triangle. Soon after, a dimensional rift opened up, large enough for a person to squeeze through. It was a dark, purple abyss that gave off an ominous feeling.
“This portal will remain open for one day. Please return back before then, we’ll be waiting here for you.”
“Let’s go,” Ira said, following the tide of the group around them as everyone headed into the gate.
The two of them easily weaved through the crowd and made their way to the front of those that were filing in. Few even noticed the duo breeze by them.
It was Emil’s first time going through a portal to a different dimension. Better yet, a demiplane. It existed in between realms and the laws of the world were manipulated a bit by the owner. There, they would usually store their prized possessions or seal themselves away to meditate. These were the two most common uses. The Night Sage had one as well, but Emil had never gone inside of it. But, it was connected to the basement that Emil had spent two years in.
Even though they could access these places anywhere, the dimensions required a root to the real world because they were not powerful enough to exist on their own. Wherever these roots were, the interactions between the demiplane and the real world always caused the anima to flow there and gather densely. The Night Sage’s was one where he meditated, which caused the anima to be even denser.
Generally speaking, powerful mage’s tended to pass their demiplanes through generations because they were expensive to maintain and very rare. Sometimes, the families were not strong enough to explore it on their on, so they hired outside help. This was one of those cases.
Emil was very interested in creating his own version with his spatial magic, but he was nowhere near powerful enough to do so yet. Actually, he knew that it was possible to create his own little world that didn’t rely on a root, but that was even further off than making a demiplane--it was something that only those who had reached the peak had managed.
The sensation of crossing into another realm was like moving through a thick, sticky liquid. The laws of the world here were different. If one didn’t understand the original ones well enough, their bodies would have a hard time adapting quickly.
Since these were trained mercenaries, the majority just shook their head and carried on, albeit slowly. There was still an effect, after all so no one would try to push themselves. It could harm their mana circuit.
As for Emil, his body strangely had no reaction to it. He felt in control, as usual. He wondered if it was because of his natural affinity or due to other reasons. He glanced at Ira, but she also seemed to be fine. If anything, she seemed to be more energized than before.
What was this girl made out of? Were all the Bloody Valkyries like this or was she an oddball? He felt tempted to ask.Ira had said she was the chieftain's daughter, which possibly meant her War Goddess’ bloodline was purer and she wouldn’t be affected by this much. He had learned a bit from the Night Sage about bloodline powers. Emil knew that the pure ones contained the mysteries of the powerful ancients, but his knowledge didn’t go deeper than that.
As he was thinking, Ira was casually stretching some more. “Ready?”
“Huh?” He blinked, drawn back to the situation at hand.
“Let’s go!” she exclaimed, getting down into a sprinting position.
Emil barely had time to blink before she shot off. He glanced down at the small dent in the ground she had left and wondered how he was supposed to catch up to her rapidly receding figure.
Part of him debated going off on his own. He did not think Ira was all bad once she stopped asking for duels. He had noticed that she was just lonely and far from home, but…
In his mind, Ira was one of the lucky people in the world. She was born blessed and talented with a life planned out for her. It was no wonder why she felt bored. But, he felt the slightest bit of irritation because of that. He couldn’t help but recall how his life had been just a few years ago--he didn’t have the luxury of being bored. In fact, he had been one of the weaklings she preached about.
He shook his head.
If it wasn’t for her strange friendship offer, he wouldn’t have gotten this job and he knew how to be grateful. And she was strong enough to provide an umbrella over him so Emil didn’t think he’d have to work hard.
With a light sigh, he began to run after her.