54. The Drunken Fighter

Whether he realized he had messed up or not, the receptionist looked like he was on the verge of tears. I could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes in the hall shifting toward me.

Wait, it wasn’t me! I’m not the one who made him cry!

Sure, leaking info unnecessarily was a bit of a problem, but my rank was right there on my Adventurer's Plate for anyone to see. Besides, it wasn’t like the details of a completed request were some deep state secret. I didn't think it was anything worth crying over, but...

The man’s face had gone pale, and I didn't know how to respond, making the whole situation incredibly awkward. Just then, a booming voice rang out, blowing the tense atmosphere away.

"Heh, not bad, kids. C-Rank, huh? And Moonlight Lily-of-the-Valley plus Goldidilla? Those are some serious rarities. You guys must have some real skin in the game."

The voice belonged to Zephyr. It was way too loud for someone just chatting with Lowell. Is he doing that on purpose?

"They didn’t get there just by picking weeds," Lowell added, his own voice carrying across the room. "Apparently, they were diving into dungeons back in Cygnil. I’ve traveled with them for a bit, and I can vouch that their skills are the real deal."

Lowell’s tone was strangely explanatory. There was no doubt about it—they were putting on a show for the benefit of the surrounding adventurers.

Was this... a deterrent?

Kids like us being C-Rank was a recipe for jealousy. People would probably suspect we’d cheated or bought our way up. Combine that with the fact that we were hauling rare plants and a whole lot of coin, and we were basically magnets for every low-life adventurer in the room.

However, Lowell was guaranteeing that our strength matched our rank, and Zephyr was backing him up. By having two established locals acknowledge us, they were sending a clear message to anyone thinking of messing with us to back off.

Whether they understood the nuance or not, Halfa was beaming at the praise, and Shiroru was vigorously wagging his tail. They were both in great moods.

For some reason, even the receptionist looked relieved. Maybe he’d been worried about us getting targeted because of his slip of the tongue. If so, I felt a little bad for making him worry.

Wait. No, no. This was his fault to begin with. We hadn't done anything wrong.

Regardless, I collected my reward of six Gold Coins for the completed request. Now, for the rest...

"Is it possible to turn in more Goldidilla?"

"Eh? Yes. Since there's a Standing Request for precious medicinal herbs, we can accept them, but... don't tell me you have more!?"

The receptionist looked genuinely shocked. These things were apparently even more valuable than I’d realized. I flicked a glance toward Lowell, whose expression clearly shouted at me to exercise some restraint. Releasing the whole stockpile at once was definitely a bad idea.

"Um, well... I'll turn in ten stalks, then."

"Eeehhh!?"

The second the number left my mouth, the receptionist let out a strangled shriek.

...He really didn't have to react that loudly.

That was my first thought, but then I saw Lowell holding his head in his hands. Apparently, even ten stalks was overdoing it. That was a bit of a problem. I still had nearly ninety more tucked away in storage. What on earth was I supposed to do with the rest?

"Gah-haha! Tort, you’re something else! I’ve never met someone who was actually stressed about having too many rare materials!"

Zephyr’s jovial voice echoed through the tavern. We were at a typical adventurer’s hangout, the kind of place frequented by C-Ranks. After finishing up at the guild, Zephyr had invited us along. He was a C-Rank himself and a regular here. He’d told me that polite speech wasn't necessary among peers, so I’d dropped the formalities.

Our group was sitting around a large table with Lowell and Zephyr. When I asked Lowell if it was okay to leave Spira alone, he mentioned there was someone at his house to look after her. That made sense; he couldn't exactly drag her along to a rowdy tavern.

As for the drinks, we children obviously weren't having any. Lowell didn't seem like much of a drinker either, having only had a small glass at the start. Zephyr, on the other hand, was knocking them back.

"Hey, Zephyr. That's the fourth time you've told that story."

Zephyr was well into his cups and had started repeating himself. Just as Lowell pointed out, this was the fourth time he’d brought up the Goldidilla.

『Hey, what’s wrong with Zephyr? His face is bright red. Is he sick?』

"That's just the alcohol," I whispered back to Shiroru. "People act like that when they've had too much to drink."

『I-I see! So that's why Halfa and Tort don't touch the stuff. I was curious, but I think I’ll pass!』

Halfa and Shiroru were whispering urgently to each other. It looked like Zephyr was serving as an excellent bad example. Judging by how spooked Shiroru looked, I didn't think he realized the effect was temporary. It was a little mean, but I decided to let him keep that misunderstanding for his own good.

Still, did Shiroru really not know about alcohol? Come to think of it, despite being such a glutton, his knowledge of food was surprisingly limited. It was strange, considering how much he knew about dungeons and monsters.

Anyway, Zephyr was now completely wasted. He’d actually invited us to join his party and Lowell on a Goblin Subjugation request. I intended to accept, but seeing the state he was in, I wasn't sure how it would work out.

Knowing Zephyr, he probably hadn't even consulted his own party members yet. Since he’d only brought it up after he started drinking, I wasn't even sure if he’d remember it in the morning.

As if reading my mind, Lowell let out a long sigh.

"We won't be heading out tomorrow," he muttered. "Better to talk this over again when he’s sober."

I figured as much.