Unlike when I’d first visited Lucaris’s adventurer’s guild after coming to the city, I arrived to find it bustling with adventurers. Most of them were returning from the day’s work to hand in their commissions, which wasn’t a surprise—that routine was the same at all guilds.
The atmosphere was pretty close to Maalt’s as well, except for the fact that there was an air of refinement to the way the adventurers dressed. That was the difference between city and frontier folk, I supposed. I’d noticed the same thing when visiting the guild at Vistelya, Yaaran’s capital, but it was even more pronounced here.
While the adventurers of Maalt could easily be mistaken for ruffians, the adventurers of Lucaris even decorated their arms and armor—nothing that would impede their efficacy, obviously, but definitely enough to leave a fashionable impression.
Well, Lucaris was a busy port city in a nation with a thriving trade industry. A rural nation like Yaaran couldn’t hope to keep up with the latest trends in the same way the Ariana Maritime Republic could.
Anyway, my point was that I stood out. Granted, that likely wasn’t the fault of the two nations’ differing fashion trends—it was just how I looked. Masks and robes in and of themselves weren’t all that rare, but my mask was shaped like a skull, and any onlookers would be able to tell that my robe was good quality. Since the combination completely concealed my appearance, it probably gave the impression I was dangerous and unpredictable.
Which was why, as I waited in the refreshments hall next to the guild proper, sipping from the soup I’d ordered—which I’d mixed some of Lorraine’s blood into—and watching the reception area as adventurers handed in their commissions, I noticed myself getting no small share of suspicious glances.
Most of them seemed content to write me off as a wanderer, a new adventurer in town, or perhaps a rookie. Some came over to strike up a conversation, but while my appearance might have come off as highly suspicious, I hadn’t spent a decade as an adventurer for nothing. It seemed a bit pompous to call myself a veteran, but at the very least, I wasn’t some fresh-faced greenhorn—I knew perfectly well how to hold a casual conversation with another adventurer. That being the case, everyone who talked to me quickly seemed to realize that I was just a regular guy, despite how I looked.
In fact, only one interaction happened that could qualify as unusual.
“Hmm? What’s that seasoning you’ve got there? Looks tasty, but I haven’t seen it around these parts.”
That was the nation of trade for you—even the adventurers had a fondness for new discoveries. Some of the ones I’d spoken to earlier had explained that to me.
This particular adventurer and his companions seemed to think that the vial of Lorraine’s blood I’d left by my meal was some sort of unfamiliar spice. In fairness, it’d be easy to mistake it for some kind of liquid chili oil at first glance—and then when you realized its color was too dark for that, it would only be natural to be curious.
I gave the adventurer who’d asked the question a sinister grin. “Oh, this? It’s sheep’s blood,” I explained. “Couldn’t get any from a human, you see.”
I was joking, of course. I figured that if I could put them off with a little dark humor, maybe that’d convince them to stay clear of me in the future. It wasn’t because I was off-putting; I knew perfectly well how to mingle and read a room. Really.
From how the adventurers responded, however, it seemed that Lucaris’s rooms had a different language to them—one I was less than familiar with.
“Sheep’s blood, huh?” one said. “I’ve seen it hardened and made into sausages before, but never eaten raw. Is it a specialty from your hometown or something?”
“Human blood...” another mused. “Oh, were you cursed, perhaps? That’d explain why you have to drink it. I know how you feel, buddy. I found this cursed item in a dungeon the other day, and I figured, well, it’s from a shallower level, so the curse can’t be that bad, right? But when I used it—check this out—I grew these webs between my fingers. It used to be way worse too—the curse vendor told me it’d take another three days to go back to normal. We’ve both got it rough, huh?”
To my surprise, they seemed perfectly willing to take my words at face value. I supposed living in a country with thriving trade—and cursed items in common circulation—made you a lot more open-minded than living in a rural frontier town like Maalt. If no one had a problem with me sipping blood in broad daylight, maybe life here could be pretty comfortable for a guy like me.
Then again, it could’ve just been that only the adventurers were, well...adventurous like that.
As I ruminated on the surprising cultural differences, I noticed a familiar face walk into the guild’s entrance. “Sorry,” I told the adventurer in front of me as I stood up. “Looks like the guy I was waiting for just arrived.”
“No worries,” he replied, giving me a smile and a wave. “See you ’round.”
Huh. Maybe Niedz and his friends were actually the rarer kind in this city. Or had I just run into a particularly friendly bunch?
Whatever, I could think about it later. First...
“Capitan,” I called out.
“Hmm?” He turned, and his expression immediately became one of shock. “Whoa! Rentt?! What are you doing here in Lucaris?!”
While I knew Capitan’s mastery over spirit would’ve let him sense someone approaching from behind, it wasn’t like he could tell exactly who that person was. He could probably make a good guess, in ordinary circumstances, but this was probably the last place he’d have expected me to show up. After all, Lucaris was farther from Maalt than Hathara was. Hardly an easy weekend jaunt.
✦ ✦ ✦
✦ ✦ ✦
Well, given the travel method Capitan and I had access to, technically it could be. Just for us, though.
“A number of reasons, but mainly, I want you to train me from the ground up,” I explained.
Capitan cocked his head. “Train you?”
I gave him the story of how I’d come to be here. When I finished, he nodded.
“On your way to Silver-class, huh?” he said. “Good to see your adventuring career is going well. Looking at you now, it seems so long ago that you were all depressed about never making it out of Bronze.”
“It’s kind of a shame that I didn’t get here through my own skill, though,” I admitted. “A number of lucky coincidences lined up, is all.”
“A person can run into a lucky coincidence every day and still not get anywhere if they’re a lost cause to begin with. You got to where you are now because of all the steady effort and achievements you accumulated. It’s never good to get cocky, but you can’t be too humble either. You’ve gotta be able to objectively assess yourself.”
I wasn’t used to such direct praise, so his words caught me by surprise, slipping past my guard and landing like a heavy blow. “Yeah...” I said. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Capitan.”