"What luck. Maybe I should start believing in the Goddess too."
"Heh, you've got so many secrets buried in you, kid. Even if you believed in Her, you wouldn't be seeing the pearly gates."
Glenn chuckled.
As an elite warrior, he had noticed Garlan's hands—calloused and tempered by years of brutal training—the very first time they met. He knew Garlan was a seasoned fighter. It was because of that early slip-up that Garlan now wore white gloves every time he left the house, determined to keep his past life under wraps.
Fortunately, legends of the Shadow Warriors weren't common in the Northern Lands; they primarily operated in the dark corners of the Central Lands. People here just thought Garlan was an eccentric—a warrior who traded his sword for a mortar and pestle, perhaps out of some strange personal hobby.
But Garlan's true fear was the Organization. He lived in constant dread that they would rediscover him and tear his peaceful life to shreds.
Is there someone out there who still remembers this face? Heaven only knows what the future holds.
And now, with Lia by his side, he felt as though he had added another heavy pack to his shoulders.
Maybe I really shouldn't have taken her in. My compassion is going to be the death of me...
"Then the Goddess is truly heartless," Garlan replied dryly. "Anyway, talk business. How much do you need this time?"
"Hmm—"
Glenn crouched down, inspecting the vials with a keen eye.
"I trust your craft implicitly. How about ten vials for twelve Strahl silver coins?"
"Add twenty copper coins."
"Come on, we're old friends. Can't you give me a discount?"
"I'm giving you that price because we're friends."
Glenn laughed and didn't push further. He knew Garlan's stubborn streak, and frankly, these potions were worth every cent.
"Pleasure doing business. May the Goddess watch over you."
As Garlan took the coins, the solid, heavy weight in his palm sent a wave of warmth through him.
It feels good to have money.
"By the way, since you're here, I actually have a request for you."
"Oh? You're issuing a commission?"
Garlan was surprised. Why would a professional adventurer, a man who made his living solving other people's problems, be looking to hire someone?
"It's about my injury," Glenn said, gesturing to his heavily bandaged right arm. "This was left by a demon who specialized in toxins. He was a nasty piece of work. Even though I've stopped the poison from spreading further, I can't even lift my sword anymore."
He tried to draw the greatsword from his back with his right hand, but despite several attempts, his fingers wouldn't even close around the hilt. It was a grim sight; no wonder he had used his left hand to handle the money.
"But I'm just a pharmacist. If it's poison analysis you need, shouldn't you find a priest? Anti-venom isn't exactly my specialty."
Garlan spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. It wasn't that he didn't want to help, but this felt out of his league. Neutralizing magical toxins was usually the domain of priests wielding Goddess Magic.
"The local priests in Rohguri are stumped. To reach the nearest major city with a high-ranking cleric would take ten days. By the time I get there, my arm will be a lost cause. That's why I'm looking for an alternative."
He pulled a scroll from his vest and unfurled it before Garlan.
"The Panacea of Ten Thousand Venoms. It's a legendary universal antidote. I paid a fortune for this recipe in a tiny village in the Northern Highlands. It should be able to purge the toxins from my arm."
Garlan's eyes widened as he scanned the scroll. Suddenly, the shiny coins in his pocket didn't seem nearly as interesting.
A universal antidote, rumored to cure any poison in existence... it actually existed. He had seen references to it in ancient texts, but he never imagined a recipe from the Mythical Era would still be in circulation.
"I really might have to start believing in the Goddess. Your luck is terrifying, Glenn."
"Don't mock me. I'm about to lose my best sword-arm."
He gave a wry smile, then turned serious.
"If you can brew this for me, you can keep the recipe as your commission fee. How about it? I've already gathered most of the ingredients, but I can't find Red Mirror Flowers or Sun-Moon Grass anywhere. I'll have to leave those to you."
"I have some Sun-Moon Grass in my collection, but the Red Mirror Flower..."
Garlan trailed off, his expression turning grim. It sounded like they were only missing one ingredient, but the reality was far more dangerous.
"You really like making my life difficult, don't you? That herb only grows near the nests of Red Mirror Dragons. To get that, I'd have to face a dragon. I can't exactly walk into its house and tell it I'm just there for some gardening. I'm not tired of living yet..."
The Red Mirror Dragon was one of the most ferocious species of dragon-kind. Most adventurers wouldn't survive a chance encounter, let alone an intentional raid on its nest. Finding the flower and escaping with your life was a tall order for anyone.
"I know it's asking the impossible, but I'm out of options... Forget it. Losing a hand is a small price to pay for taking down a Demon General. I'll live."
He spoke bravely, but Garlan could sense the hollow ache in his voice. Anyone would be devastated to lose their dominant hand in their prime. The hero's sun hadn't set, yet his heart was already being forced into retirement.
"Well, that's all. I won't hold up your business. I'll head over to the Adventurers' Guild and see if any veterans are crazy enough to take the job."
They both knew the truth. Any veteran with enough experience to survive a dragon would also have enough sense to stay far away from such a commission. No amount of gold was worth that risk.
Glenn was likely only saying it so Garlan wouldn't worry. He was a man of deep sentiment; he had risked his life countless times to save teammates in the heat of battle. Many of his scars were earned protecting others.
If a man like this can't get help when he needs it, his faith in the Goddess really will crumble.
The Goddess, huh? Truly unreliable. In the end, you have to count on yourself.
"Fine, fine. I'll take the commission."
Glenn, who had already turned to walk away with his potions, froze in his tracks.
"Is that so?"
"Shouldn't you be more excited? Maybe hug me and cry some tears of gratitude?"
"I am 'Black Sword' Glenn. I don't lose my composure like that."
"Really? Then who was it that got so drunk last time that they clung to me and sobbed like a baby...?"
"Shut it! I give up, you win."
Glenn turned back, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"It seems the Goddess is looking out for me after all."
"The one looking out for you is me, Glenn. Don't forget to buy me a drink later. And this time, I'm drinking you under the table."