There were four horsemen wearing that gleaming white and gold armor of a Holy Knight. Two of them with golden flowing locks and two with dark short hair, each probably in their late thirties. Their calm yet assertive demeanor told me they were seasoned in their line of work. None of them wore their full helms. Maybe it was too much to ask for in this heat.

They quickly surrounded us and pointed swords. Elfindor and I put our hands up instinctively.

“What are you doing?”

I froze. They’d practically caught us just as we had gotten up from covering the hole. Had they seen us?

Elfindor bowed. “Holy Knights, I am the chief of Little Rock village. We were just on our way to Fuoril’s capital city.”

One of them ground his teeth as he spoke. “Then why have you stopped?”

I patted my face with my palms. Snap out of it.

I had to be the one to speak. I’d forgotten to tell Elfindor about the lie detector card. If one of them had one and he made something up, we’d be toast.

I coughed and slapped his shoulder hard. ‘Greetings, Holy Knights. I am his assistant. I hope you don’t mind me speaking for my chief. I’m usually the one to greet guests. If it pleases you, I will answer your questions.”

I shot him a look to stay quiet and plastered an innocent grin on my face for the knights.

“Very well,” one of them said. “Explain yourselves.”

Two of them dismounted their horses, sheathed their swords, and stepped onto the cart, checking for gaps between the wood, patting down bumps, and just searching everywhere for something.

They’re looking for cards.

My breaths were starting to get short. “We were just stopping for a moment before making it to the village.”

“What for?” he pressured.

Fuck! Fuck!! What do I say?

“Ah… you see…” I said, scratching my head. “Well, the chief had to tell me something important before we entered. It’s a personal matter. And we’re very close. I hope you’ll understand.”

“Is that so? Treybar, search them.”

The knight Treybar ordered us to take off our shoes. Then they patted our clothes and even grabbed into the crotch, where I always carried them. If Elfindor hadn’t thought ahead and made us dig the hole just now… well I didn’t want to think about it. I noticed that even while patting us down and searching through our stuff, these guys always had a hand around their hilts.

Treybar looked at me, thoroughly scanning me from head to toe. “Why have you dirt on your hands?”

A simple enough question. But answering it would get us killed. As I cocked my eyes for inspiration—anything that would give me an idea, Elfindor simply said, “He’s quite dirty, isn’t he? He’ll have to wash off in town. We’re planning to go to the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“The guild?”

“Yes, we’re on our way to sell horns from horned wolves.”

“Wait a minute, Captain Donhol,” Treybar said with a hand up, as if lost in thought. “You,” he pointed to Elfindor. “We caught some men earlier saying they ran away from such monsters. Were they with you?”

Elfindor shook his head. “No, Your Grace. Our party returned to our village before dusk. We processed the corpses and are on our way to sell the horns in town.”

Captain Donhol asked the two who had inspected our stuff. They confirmed our story.

“Show me.”

Elfindor went to the back and unraveled the package of horns. Captain Donhol nodded.

“Very well. Let’s go, men. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

At his whistle, the other knights sheathed their swords and the horses galloped away. I couldn’t believe a diversion like that would work, but I was glad Elfindor spoke up when he did. I explained the reason I wanted him quiet and he questioned me endlessly on how such a card worked.

As if I know.

I told him to shut up so we could get out of here before more knights showed up.

At the gate, four guards inspected our cargo and patted us down from head to toe. But they were much less thorough than the Holy Knights. We got a thumbs up.

“Four copper entry.”

That sounded like a lot. Elfindor had taught me more or less the value of money in the city. Just one copper could get you a decent meal. Part of me wanted to just climb the walls while no one was looking and have Elfindor wait outside. But at over ten feet tall with no protruding edges to grab onto, I thought twice. The other half of me wanted to tell them to fuck off. But they didn’t make the rules. Elfindor handed the man the coins and they let us in.

Once past, Elfindor grumbled. “I really hate coming here. Four copper costs like three day’s worth of meat. Callum’s entire savings was like 10 copper when I took over this body. Now I’m down to 2.”

I clenched my fist. “The info on the monsters better be worth it.”

* * *

The city was big. I underestimated its size from the walls surrounding it, but there were more buildings than my eyes could take in. Some one-story shops, others two-story, likely a store with a residential area where the owners or workers slept. There were outdoor stalls in various marketplaces for peddlers that got a lot of traffic.

The roads were wide enough for two full carts to pass each other seamlessly. There was even a manhole on the street, making me wonder if it led to sewers. Did these people have indoor plumbing? The thought of not having to shit into a bucket made me less angry at the amount of money we spent.

Elfindor told me we were near the poorer districts of the city. The city was designed in a way that put the common people closer to harm if the city was ever raided. Such a scumbag design allowed the wealthier people to purchase homes closer to the center. The lord’s estate was also around the center, closer to the knights’ station. The inner districts had the most upscale stores, some three stories tall where the rich could shop for clothes, art, décor, and other luxuries.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“The guild is down this street, though. So we can just keep going,” he said pointing straight down the road.

Children played with chalk on the streets, making boxes to jump in. Women hung clothes onto lines stretching between buildings. Unlike the village, the city seemed to emphasize space management so communal housing and apartment-style buildings were in vogue here. Men of all ages pushed wheelbarrows, moved crates, and did work along the streets.

The fourth building down the street we were on was the Adventurer’s Guild, a two-story brick building with a wooden sign hanging outside with a picture of a green-looking monster. There was an area marked as Waiting where a lot of horses and carts were parked.

“Good day, sirs!” a bright-looking young guy in a hat and uniform said. “Will you be heading inside the guild? I can watch over your cart for you.”

We nodded and handed him the yolk.

Armed people in groups littered the outside, but the inside wasn’t much better. The place reeked of tobacco and alcohol. Waitresses in skimpy black-and-white outfits served food to tables. Bartenders served drinks in front of the bar table from barrels placed against the wall. There was a bulletin board as wide as an entire room with notes nailed to it and dozens of people crowding it.

We got some weird looks as we passed by the restaurant part of it, since we were probably the only ones besides the staff without weapons. We kept going and found the guild reception desk near the back. It had a waiting area with sofas for people to sit and we got a number. There was a glass card hanging from the ceiling that glowed with a number.

“Guess they have one here, too,” Elfindor said. “Remember the empty card we have for the daily report?”

Oh yeah. That thing Trent uses every morning. I wonder how those things work.

Elfindor grabbed a wooden ticket with the number 41 on it from a table.

“Number 37!” a girl called out from behind the counter. Glass windows mounted over the counters prevented physical contact. Number 37 was a tall man in a suit wearing a mask.

“Mr. Elquine. It is good to see you again,” the receptionist said. Mr. Elquine slid an ID under the glass. He seemed in a hurry and didn’t respond.

His request was quickly processed and the number on the card went to 38. Then 38, 39. 40.

“Number 41, please.”

Our turn. We got up and the lady asked how she could help us.

“We want to sell horns from a horned wolf. And also—”

“Do you have a quest?”

“What?”

“An extermination quest for horned wolves?”

“No…”

She glanced at us weirdly. I didn’t like it. It only lasted for half a second, but it stayed with me. It was a mix of doubt and contempt.

Cordially, she announced, “Well then you can’t sell them here. Number 42, please!”

“Wait!” I said. “We also need information about monsters.”

“Upstairs, third room to the right. That’s where the monster specialist is.”

We nodded and walked off. Out of the corner of my eye as I looked back, I saw her call over a colleague to take care of number 42 while she left to take care of something.

Is she on break? Or something else?

I got an odd feeling about it but shrugged it off.

We walked around the several open rooms and found the only staircase leading up. The second floor was just a hallway with about eight rooms, four on each side. There were cards on the outside. One of them said Guildmaster’s Quarters. There was another one that said Medical Ward.

And just where the lady said, we found the room for the Monster Specialist.

I knocked on the door and a soft female voice said, “Come in.”

Inside, someone who looked like she could pass for either fourteen or twenty-eight motioned us to sit down. She had raspberry-colored hair, probably dyed, and a black witch’s hat and matching top.

“You’re the monster specialist?” I asked bluntly.

“If you’re rude to me, I can refuse to see you,” she reminded us.

Elfindor jabbed me hard in the arm. “Forgive him. I was wondering if you could help us. We want to know about spellcard drop rates and which cards are dropped from which monsters.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you and just about everyone else. “

“What?” I blurted out. “This place is a guild, right? Isn’t that kind of information something you should know?”

“Nobody hunts enough monsters to keep track of that. If someone is lucky enough to get a spellcard, they stop working and retire to a life of luxury. Well, depending on the rarity of the card.”

“Do all monsters drop them? Could we get a list?”

“Well, sure. That much we do know,” she replied coolly. She handed us a flyer with the names of monsters that were known to drop cards. It was a common enough request that the guild had made a bunch of flyers ready to hand out.

Horned Wolf – utility, normal cards

Sand Wyrm – utility, normal cards

Troll – utility, normal cards

Wyvern – utility, normal, great cards

Giants (unconfirmed) - unknown

Dragon (unconfirmed) – unknown

Griffin (unconfirmed) – unknown

There was also a list of common monsters that didn’t drop them.

Goblins. Kobolds, undead.

“Is this all?” I asked.

“All that we know of. Dragons and griffins are too powerful to fight, but given that they are magical creatures, we suspect they have the card synthesis ability. We estimate they would drop at least Epic tier cards. The rest have been confirmed during extermination quests.”

Epic, huh?

“By the way, is there info on where these monsters can be found?” Elfindor asked.

“Y-yes,” the specialist said with a softer tone. She got a piece of parchment and quill pen and started writing the relative locations. Goblins and Kobolds were common in the forests, but adventurers around here hunted them like crazy so they were rarer. Horned wolves could be found in the Renerr Desert just outside the lord’s territory. But we knew that already. Sand Wyrms were also in the Renerr Desert.

Trolls made their homes on mountain ranges and the closest one was, again, the Renerr Desert. Wyverns were nomadic and could be seen flying just about anywhere. They were only aggressive if you attacked first. No one attacked one because it was considered very bad luck.

As for giants, no one had ever seen a giant and lived to tell the tale. Dragons flew high in the clouds, so it was rare to see one. Griffins were at least a day’s walk, known to gather in a mystical forest called Gertrude’s Prairie. The specialist said they guarded the entrance to a dungeon.

Elfindor’s eyes twinkled. “Dungeon? Like a place where monsters spawn and treasure can be found?”

She giggled and nodded. “Indeed. Are you interested in dungeons? It’s said they contain great treasure.”

I don’t like this. She’s way nicer to Elfindor than to me.

“He’s married,” I said bluntly. “Also yeah, tell us more about this treasure.”

Glaring at me, she replied, “Enchanted gear. Maybe spellcards, too.”

“Cool.”

Next we asked about weaknesses. Specifically for horned wolves. She said they were weak to crushing weapons but that they were very strong overall and only recommended to adventurers of high rank. Their horns allowed them to use magic that controls the wind, making them very tough opponents.

Magic?

I didn’t remember seeing anything flashy. We told her about our recent encounter with some.

“Those must have been pups, from what you describe. Adults are much bigger, and their magic is nothing to scoff at. Also I hope you don’t mind me asking, but just how in the world did you survive an encounter with a pack of pups? It is advised to be at least Rank C with a large party. You two don’t look like adventurers.”

As I felt the tingling sensation of suspicion brought against us, I quickly added, “Our men went hunting. We’re from a pretty strong village.”

Her eyes were slit.

I laughed nervously. “Anyway, you’ve been a pretty big help. Thanks, little lady.”

It dawned on me that we’d gotten lucky. If we had run into an adult with magic, we probably would’ve been totally screwed. She said that pups like to hunt to prove themselves to their packs, so it wasn’t uncommon to see them.

We ended up getting a lot of good info out of her. Since the guild wasn’t going to buy our horns, we decided to hit up the markets and see if anyone wanted them.

Or so I thought, but I felt a cold hand grip my shoulder tightly as we walked out of her room. A gigantic man, probably seven foot, salt and pepper hair with a viking beard gripped my shoulder tightly with his monstrous hand.

The look on his face was just like what I’ve seen the receptionist make. Only he didn’t try to hide it. That sinking feeling came back. Like we’d just gotten ourselves in deep shit.