"Rei, are you here!?"
Looking at the man who came bursting in with that shout, Rei thought for a fleeting second before immediately realizing who stood before him.
This was Mult, an adventurer employed by Boruntar of the Azoth Firm—the very people Rei had been contemplating how to handle.
"Yeah, I'm here. What's all the racket?"
The man was bleeding from several spots. Rei caught a glimpse of his left shoulder and saw an arrow lodged in it from behind. It wasn't a sight one expected in the heart of a city that was supposed to be peaceful. As Rei asked his question, he flicked his wrist and threw a dagger held in his right hand.
"Whoa!"
The dagger flew straight toward him. Frozen by an attack faster than any arrow, Mult let out a panicked yelp, but the blade whistled past his head.
"Gugh!"
The dagger sank into the right shoulder of a man who had been a split second away from plunging a knife into the back of Mult's neck. The strike with inhuman physical strength sent the would-be assassin flying backward.
"You've brought some dangerous company with you," Rei remarked.
"Eh? Ah, yeah. No..."
Realizing just how close he’d come to death, Mult gasped and scrambled deeper into the workshop.
"Good grief. I just get back from a job and trouble follows me through the door. Hey, kid. Get over here!"
Phron hauled Mult inside and forced a nearby scrap of cloth between his teeth.
"Mmph!"
Mult groaned at the sudden manhandling, but Phron ignored his protests. She stripped off his leather armor with brute force, tore the clothes underneath, and reached for the arrow embedded in his left shoulder.
"Walking around with this sticking out of you is just a nuisance. This might sting a bit, but bear with it... hup!"
Taking advantage of the fact that Mult was gagged, she grabbed the shaft and yanked the arrow out in one fluid motion.
"Gugh, gummmphhh!?"
Mult bit down hard on the cloth as pain flared through him. Phron, seemingly practiced in field medicine, inspected the arrowhead.
"Hmm. At least it's not a poison arrow. Call it luck, or maybe they weren't trying to kill him outright. Well, whatever. Pamidoor, this is a blacksmith workshop—you must have a potion or two on hand for accidents. Let me borrow one."
"Well... we need to hear what this guy has to say, so I suppose it can't be helped. Here. I’m lending it to you, so make sure I get a replacement. It’s a high-quality potion, you know."
"Don't bill me, bill the kid."
Phron ignored Mult’s whimpers and tipped the vial, pouring the liquid onto the raw wound.
"Gugh... huff, huff, huff..."
As the potion took effect, the agony subsided—though most of that pain had been caused by Phron's rough removal of the arrow in the first place. Mult's breathing finally slowed. Watching him stabilize, Rei stepped outside the workshop to scan the area.
The first thing he saw were two men who looked like thieves collapsed on the ground. The final one, a thief with a short spear, was currently being swatted by Set. The gryphon’s forepaw struck with enough force to send the man crashing into a wall, where he slumped over, unconscious.
That left only one more: a man standing at a distance, aiming a bow and arrow at the gryphon.
"Come out. I know exactly where you're hiding," Rei called out, glancing toward the shadow of a nearby building.
No one emerged.
Rei waited for thirty seconds, but when the shadows remained still, he sighed and approached the man pinned to the wall by his dagger.
"Sorry about this. If you want to hold a grudge, blame the friends who abandoned you."
Rei grasped the hilt of the dagger buried deep in the man's right shoulder and yanked it out. Even unconscious, the man convulsed as the blade left his flesh.
Rei looked at his own dagger, then at the sword the man had been clutching. It was a cheap iron longsword, nothing special. Still, with iron ore prices currently inflated by the Harpy incident, it was worth a decent amount. Rei didn't care about the profit; he simply picked up the weapon.
"Hah!"
He gripped the hilt and hurled the sword at the building's shadow.
Normally, a sword is a slashing weapon, not a missile. Its center of gravity makes it tumble end-over-end when thrown. However, Rei released the hilt at the precise moment the blade was aligned in a straight line. The sword didn't spin; it sliced through the air like a needle, flying true.
"Tch!"
With a click of the tongue, two men stepped out from the gloom—one with a spear and one with a club. They weren't wearing metal armor; instead, they wore thick clothes that muffled their movements, dyed black to blend into the night.
"I see. Specialized for night combat. Are you supposed to be the Azoth Firm Assassination Unit or something? You don't seem nearly skilled enough to deserve such a grand name."
Rei laughed mockingly, hoping to goad them. They were clearly the Azoth Firm's underground personnel. They raised their weapons, eyes darting as they looked for an opening in Rei's defense.
"What's the matter? Your target is inside this workshop. If you want to get to him, you have to go through me. Come on."
Rei beckoned with a finger, but the two men didn't rise to the bait. They held their stance for a moment before one of them whispered.
"We're withdrawing."
They turned and vanished into the labyrinth of back alleys, fleeing like rabbits. They clearly knew these streets by heart, disappearing into the darkness without a hitch in their stride.
By the time Rei looked back, the man with the bow and arrow—who had been pinned down by Set’s predatory gaze—was also gone. The moment Set had looked away, he had taken the chance to bolt.
"Guruuu?"
Set chirped, asking if they should pursue. Rei patted its head and shook his head.
(That should be enough. Mult’s contact with me will be reported back to Boruntar. He won’t be able to move so brazenly now. ...Besides.)
He thought back to his meeting with Daskar at the Lord's Mansion. Margrave Larcus had seen this as the perfect opportunity to excise Boruntar, whom he called the City of Gilm's Pathogen. It was a decisive move, characteristic of Daskar’s martial nature.
Daskar had likely calculated that removing Boruntar wouldn't cause long-term instability because there was already a successor of the Azoth Firm ready to step in. Chaos in Gilm would inevitably drag in the adventurers and put innocent citizens at risk. In a frontier town constantly threatened by monsters, such instability was unacceptable.
"Well, I suppose that’s for the high-ranking nobles to worry about, not a mere adventurer like me."
"Guruu?"
Rei gave Set one last pat and headed back inside. Set lay down near the entrance, acting as a silent sentinel.
"What happened to our guests?" Phron asked as he entered.
"They realized they were outclassed. They left without a word. They weren't particularly strong, but they were smart enough to know when they were beat."
"I see. Well, we still need to hear the whole story from this guy, but..."
Mult had run through the streets, sustaining wounds all over his body before taking an arrow to the shoulder. Now that the arrow was out and the potion had closed his wounds, the sheer exhaustion had finally claimed him. He was out cold.
"He's a wreck. What do we do? Wake him up?"
"Hmm... I'm not sure."
Mult, who had been too terrified to stand during the meeting with Boruntar, had still dragged himself here to find Rei. The specifics were still a mystery, but it clearly involved the Azoth Firm. Rei wanted to grill him for information immediately, but...
He glanced toward the back of the workshop, where Kumito was hiding. If they held the interrogation here, Pamidoor and his son would be caught in the crossfire.
Sensing Rei’s hesitation, Brasso let out a small sigh and easily hoisted Mult’s unconscious body onto his shoulder. Rei couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration at how effortlessly the dwarf-kin handled the weight of a grown man.
"Well then. If we stay here, we'll only bring more trouble to Pamidoor's doorstep. It is best we hear his story elsewhere."
"You're right... but wait. This is my mess. There’s no reason for you two to get involved. This is going to be a massive headache, you know?"
Brasso gave a small shake of his head, and Phron simply shrugged.
"It's a bit late for that," she said. "We were at the Lord's Mansion when this all started. Besides, it’s bad form to abandon a comrade you’ve shared life and death with, isn't it?"
"Exactly," Brasso added. "And there is a matter of pragmatism. Anyone with a modicum of influence in the Guild can find out we were together on the Harpy quest. The people who control the city's weapon trade will have no trouble discovering our temporary partnership."
He looked at Rei, letting the implication hang.
(Right. They might be targeted as hostages if they're alone. With their skill, I doubt they'd be captured easily, but there's always a 'what if.' It's safer if we stay together.)
"Fine. Then I'll count on your help."
"Good. And there is one more thing..." Brasso gestured toward the Flame Ore sitting on the work desk. "If the Azoth Firm finds out about this... you can imagine the consequences."
"Yeah... I know."
Rei sighed, touched the ore, and used Store to put it back into the Misty Ring.
The Firm was already hounding him for his magic items and Set. If they learned he could produce Flame Ore, they would stop at nothing to get their hands on a literal gold mine.
"Sorry for the mess, Pamidoor."
"Hmph. Don't worry about it. Just come back when the dust settles. I'll give your sword a proper maintenance then."
Pamidoor’s voice was gruff. Personally, he wanted to help his old friends, but he had a family to think of. He looked toward the forge at his son, whose soft features didn't seem like they could belong to a man like him. Back at home, he had a wife who loved him despite his rough edges. He couldn't drag them into a war with the powerhouse of the City of Gilm.
(Pathetic. Five... no, ten years ago, I would've been right there with them, tearing things up.)
He felt a surge of self-loathing for choosing safety over his friends.
Noticing the blacksmith’s inner turmoil, Brasso offered a small, knowing smile.
"Do not fret. You have a family to protect. It is only right that you put them first."
"Yeah, yeah. Besides, you've got a wife who actually agreed to marry a face like yours," Phron teased. "A woman with such unique taste is a rare treasure."
Pamidoor looked sheepish for a moment before his face broke into a grin—though to any normal person, his smile looked more like a predator about to lunge.
Brasso and Phron, long accustomed to his expressions, simply nodded. Rei gave a small, understanding nod as well.
"Well, we'll be going. We'll stop back once this is over to have our weapons maintained."
"Count on it. Just make sure you finish that business quickly."
"Give my best to Kumito," Phron said.
"The kid calls you 'Big Sister' for some reason, so you better stay safe."
"Thanks for the work on the dagger," Rei added.
"Anytime. I'm always open for maintenance."
With those final words, the three of them—plus their unconscious passenger—departed from the workshop.