Chapter 561 – Caught
"Ladies and gentlemen! This, let me tell you, is honey harvested from bees that fed on the sap of a tree that looks to be a hundred years old! A small jar for 29,900 Elk, a large jar for 49,900 Elk! Today, you can taste it lightly and make a purchase if you wish!"
"Fresh fruits that came in this very morning! To see something like this again, you'd have to wait about five days... hey! If you're not buying, don't touch it!"
"A pouch of dried chicken jerky for just 1,100 Elk! Buy two for 2,000 Elk! Ah, thank you, customer!"
A sunlit alley slanted with golden rays bustled with people.
Merchants running stalls were individuals not belonging to any trading guilds, straining their throats just to sell even one item.
Spectators lured in by the hawking stopped from time to time, repeating the cycle.
But there was no need to force his way through such a noisy, narrow street. Verden used
'It's difficult to precisely locate a Gluttony's implant host with
Even though he could spread mana discreetly through Arcane, the Demon King's mana manipulation method, it was by no means absolute.
For the organization called Gluttony possessed powers that defied understanding.
'If I recklessly scatter mana and get discovered, or even arouse suspicion tantamount to that, I'd lose the advantage of infiltration.'
There's a reason aberrant species are classified as aberrations. Their alien peculiarities are never something one can be too cautious against.
Still, identifying Gluttony's implant hosts posed no real obstacle. Even without using [Compass of the Black Hour].
Verden's insight could sense the fragments of Gluttony dwelling within. Through
Adrian, with his keenly honed senses, could recall and compare the impressions of implant hosts he had encountered, to judge them.
And Isabella possessed the Brilliant Eye that could discern the essence of her targets.
In terms of comprehensive accuracy, Isabella ranked first, followed by Verden second, and Adrian third.
Well, whichever stood superior didn't matter much, as long as the three of them, if within sight or close enough, could track down implant hosts.
'But even if I specify the location of every enemy, eliminating them without collateral damage is impossible.'
Blue eyes scanned the crowd.
Already, in this marketplace, Verden had spotted six implant hosts.
Weak ones, to be sure.
But should they suddenly go on a rampage without warning, each one of them could slaughter dozens of citizens nearby.
'That's why the head leading the group must be severed first.'
Once command structure collapses abruptly, the limbs won't function properly. What mattered was sowing confusion.
Accustomed to Daunt's streets, Verden quickened his search pace. Alpha too, scouted around, observing the ground closely.
Meanwhile, in the market alleys, a young girl───Aisha felt something pass overhead, and raised her gaze.
"...Huh? The mage?"
The Principality of Riviant, city of Cohen.
At the Beehive's rest inn, Aisha had once stumbled running inside, only to be caught by the gray-haired mage who also floated her falling ice cream back to her with magic.
And not long ago, her grandmother had shown her a divination with the very same result as before.
───Hello, mister mage! Did you come to have your fortune read by Grandma?
───Just passing through.
───Aw, don't say that, just once! My grandma is really accurate!
Remembering her conversation with the fortune-teller grandmother's granddaughter, Aisha started to run.
***
Though he hardly wanted to, Adrian ended up sitting across from a merchant in the underground marketplace, who introduced himself as a sales agent.
"So then... even though the world seems peaceful, disputes abound. Big and small. Yes, even the trivial act of beating goblins to death with a club in the woods counts as a dispute. And because of such disputes, people die every day. Even skilled adventurers aren't exceptions. Then, what happens to the gear they once carried?"
The merchant held a glass of cool water he had just poured. Under Adrian's pressing gaze, he wasted no time and gulped it down.
"Khmm, hem. Ordinary gear, broken or not, can just be melted down and reused, but enchanted ones are troublesome to dispose of. Namely, those of low to mid grade."
"Because repairing them yields mediocre performance, costs too much labor, profit is small, and finding buyers is cumbersome, right?"
"Oh, spot on. But tossing them away brings no value either. A waste, in other words. That's why there are guilds who buy them a little more expensively."
In fixing damaged magic items, the important parts were material cost and labor cost. Of these, the latter was the real issue.
Leaving them to a forge incurred heavy expenses.
But if one could handle it alone without outsourcing, how much profit would that bring? That was why technical skills were prized.
"My role is the middle ground. From those in the western continent who want to dispose of dubious or awkward-to-sell weapons, I take the goods and deliver them to customers. A so-called distribution agent. But... here's where legal controversy comes in."
The merchant lowered his voice slightly.
"If you move a handful of enchanted weapons, it's just trade... but once the number piles up, what is it called? Strategic materials, in grand terms. If you go legit, taxes are taxes, procedures complicated, a huge nuisance. For both the Empire and us."
He traced a circle in the air.
"So instead, the route detours around the Desert of Silence. This is the traditional path. Otherwise, how could different continents interact back in the days without intercontinental teleport circles? Crossing uncharted lands, everyone would've perished. Ah, but one man was the exception. You know of him of course? About three centuries ago, the one who first established the Adventurers Guild—the 'First Adventurer'."
The First Adventurer.
The very one who offered humanity salvation from the chronic threat of demi-humans and aberrant species.
The tragic figure who had to shoulder all the conflicts accumulated through ages between humans and elves, beastkin, and dwarves... and the historic existence who reached transcendence by crossing worlds.
'Many followed him into the uncharted zones, but though some returned, none could cross to the other side. Be it the Desert of Silence or the Demon Realm.'
Adrian recalled the history of the continents taught by his master during childhood, then soon discarded the thought.
That wasn't what mattered now.
"So, where do the weapons go?"
"I don't really know myself?. Oh wait. Honestly. Loosen your grip. I seriously don't know much. I'm just a middle link, what use is it to me to pry into the rest? But, if I had to guess, they scatter across the continent. To no man's lands, to other guilds."
"Which guilds do you trade with most?"
"There are several, but two are the largest. 'The Path of Sinners', and 'Brandt Trading Guild'. Strange name, the first one, right? Who knows who founded it or when, but rumors say they have absurdly deep pockets. Occasionally such guilds emerge now and then."
The Path of Sinners.
Even Adrian wasn't too familiar with that name.
"And the man earlier, which was he affiliated with?"
"Brandt Trading Guild. They move across the continents periodically, and compared to the locals here, they're quite large. In pursuit of profit, they cut corners or dabble in illegality, flaws here and there, but still, an ordinary guild. They said they'll buy as many weapons as possible, so I told them I'd have them ready within two days."
Brandt Trading Guild.
Though the middle-aged man who made the deal was an implant host, it did not guarantee that every guild member colluded with Gluttony.
Hadn't his lord spoken so?
Even if one of the principality's two pillars, Marquis Gardran, shook hands with Gluttony, that didn't necessarily mean the principality itself was involved.
Gluttony specialized in hiding among the crowd.
At that moment, the merchant said,
"Come to think of it, I heard today the Daunt Merchants Guild is having a big meeting. They supposedly invited a 'famous consultant'. The Brandt guildmaster will attend too."
***
By now, the number of implant hosts Isabella had confirmed in the plaza market alone had long exceeded ten fingers.
"...A meeting at the guild? Where?"
───At the Merchants Guild headquarters, in the center of the plaza market.
Upon receiving Adrian's information, she made inquiries and stepped into the wide plaza encircled by large buildings.
Following the main street further, one artificial structure stood out. A sprawling three-story building, wide in horizontal length.
Around it, fully armed soldiers kept vigilant watch. Not only the rooftop, but several windows as well.
"...!"
A man standing still at a second-floor window abruptly turned his head.
Those eyes were chilling.
Instinctively, Isabella averted her gaze, and hid behind the building.
That guard.
He was an implant host bearing a crimson fragment.
'Whew, just a glance and the reaction's that sharp. Getting any closer won't work.'
Having gauged the opponent's detection range, Isabella stepped into a nearby restaurant.
Without leaving the building, she sat on the third-floor terrace, ordered food, and discreetly observed the Merchants Guild.
There was something inside.
Whether that was the answer or not, she would know once the guild's meeting concluded.
***
The members of the Daunt Merchants Guild, or rather, the guildmasters of each trading house who were their guests, had gathered.
Including the Brandt Trading Guild, they were all figures of commerce who moved at the scale of nations or continents, dealing with sums of money that ordinary people could not even dream of.
The only reason they had organized this meeting was because of one man.
"...So, you are saying, there's no great need to be overly wary of the Arnak Empire?"
"Of course. The Empire, too, is ultimately a mountain built by people, so there are gaps. Since it does not fall under legal jurisdiction, there is absolutely no issue. Naturally, you should not be reckless, and should exercise at least minimal flexibility. That, however, depends on each man's purse, and is not for me to meddle in."
The merchants' consultant, Hegin.
A counselor who offered legal advice to merchants, who were forever seeking loopholes in the law to save even a single coin.
This old man was versed not only in international law, but also in the laws of many nations, and with his unique interpretations, he walked the seams of legality.
What the world might call expediency, was in truth not illegal.
Hegin was a man who wielded no small influence in the world of trade. For merchants, saving enormous sums was simply too enticing.
Of course, that made his fees steep, and meeting him difficult.
"So this is why one invites a consultant...! Then, in our case...!"
"Hold, it is my turn!"
"Excuse me, my nationality is the Republic of Beldirn, and the inheritance tax is crushing. To reduce it somehow... and the tariffs as well...."
Merchants who claimed to have weathered all manner of storms now clamored, each raising their voice to secure advice first.
Time was limited.
To receive as much counsel as possible was directly to maximize profit.
"Hoho, my friends, truly. Calm yourselves. You can see the counselor is troubled, can you not? Let us follow the arrangement we made beforehand, from the left, one by one. That is the dignified way, is it not?"
The aged Brandt guildmaster restrained them.
He was not wrong.
Needless commotion only wasted time. In the end, the guildmasters had to curb their greed, and wait their turns.
The consultations ended only several hours later.
After the long discussions, moistening his parched lips, Hegin stepped outside, where the twilight was already bathing Daunt.
The Brandt guildmaster extended an invitation.
"I heard you enjoy walking, but judging by your face, you look quite weary. Allow me to see you home, please ride."
"My legs are indeed heavy today. I will not decline."
With the farewells of proud guildmasters behind him, Hegin and his assistant Ruyten boarded a luxurious carriage.
"Hyah!"
A man of the Brandt Guild, formerly a mercenary, doubled as both guard and coachman, urging the horses forward.
Inside the comfortable carriage, the two conversed quietly.
"You have worked hard today. But I hear you will be leaving soon."
"So it has come about. Long ago, fortune-tellers told me so. That I was fated never to linger long in one place, but to wander forever."
"A fate like money itself. Until recently, I too took interest in such things... but these days, I refrain. Disappointed, perhaps. Late last year, before a major deal, I sought one out, but was given a most absurd prophecy. Trusting it as it was, I took quite a loss. I was furious."
Merchants trusted and revered numbers, yet they dealt with people, and people's minds were as waves upon the sea.
Certainty was never assured, so reliance on superstition was hardly rare.
"At any rate, to depart early on a journey, it must be hard on you. No need to guess, I know well. As fellow old men, we cannot but understand each other's burdens. I too must leave Daunt in a few days. In any case, I'll see to it you may rest quickly. I'll have us take a shortcut."
The Brandt guildmaster knocked on the carriage window. A signal to hurry.
As they rode, admiring the streets and talking on, it happened.
Neighhh!
Suddenly, the guard yanked the reins.
Startled, the horses cried out and skidded to an abrupt halt.
Thud.
The carriage jolted, and the guildmaster struck his head on the corner.
"Ugh... what the...!!"
"M-my apologies, guildmaster. Someone suddenly blocked the road...!"
By this hour, around four or five in the afternoon, most stall merchants had closed up and gone home, leaving alleys largely deserted.
Yet at the center of the path stood a robed figure, hood drawn deep, motionless. Judging by the build, a woman.
Bang!
The infuriated Brandt guildmaster stormed out of the carriage. To be shamed before the consultant, of all people!
"You crazy wench! Have you lost your mind?! Standing in the middle of the road like this! Move at once, or I'll have you beaten and dragged aside!"
With his guard at his side, the guildmaster jabbed his finger, spilling rage.
But the woman—Isabella—paid no heed to the furious bluster.
"Black brain, and black stomach. And multiple crimson fragments besides. Truly, you are leagues apart from the others."
Speaking words no ordinary person could comprehend, she stretched out her right arm.
Fwoosh!
The mana she thrust forward pierced resistance, seized the guildmaster and his guard with
At the same time, she subtly altered their blood flow───knocking their minds unconscious, and flung their bodies into a 'safe' side alley.
"Tch..."
Watching from within the carriage, Hegin and Ruyten's eyes widened. Instinctive vigilance spiked.
Yet their instincts pointed not at the woman before them, but to the side.
Hegin shouted.
"Dodge!!!"
Kraaaash!
Bursting through a building wall, Verden smashed the carriage apart, and without pause lunged, seizing Hegin and Ruyten by the throats.
"Ghk?!"
Bones snapped.
Jagged fragments tore apart their windpipes, blood spraying forth. A wound fatal enough to kill an ordinary man instantly.
But neither died. Their consciousness remained intact, their eyes only filled with panic and shock.
Amid flying debris, Verden whispered.
"Did you think, if you hid, I couldn't find you?"
Gluttony's fangs.
Caught.
In an instant, Verden leapt beyond space, dragging his prey with him.