NOVEL NEXT Chapter 122: Marketplace
The Second Ring was a marketplace, and that was an understatement. Dozens of shops lined the streets, displaying their own catalogue of goods on rows upon rows of stalls that attracted numerous passersby.
But it wasn't the stalls themselves that gave Valens a pause. No, it was what was being displayed over them.
Giant claws and long, thick furs. Eyeballs the size of Valens's fist. Nails thicker than his arm. Feet so wide that they covered a whole stall by themselves.
Is this a wicked rethinking of a bazaar? What are all… these?
There was a nasty stench throughout all of it, but people seemed scarcely interested in a protest against it. They strode along in groups of two or three, haggling with the shop-owners, pointing with excited fingers to certain parts, seemingly in peace with this monster butchery of all things.
It was kind of creepy, perhaps, but Valens decided to visit one of the shops to learn the deal behind it. Why would they sell monster parts here? And why did all those parts look like they belonged to animal-like creatures with a rather twisted nature?
A living, breathing sort of folk, here, is it? The dwellers were not all too shadowy and slick, I've heard.
"Good day, Sir, how may I help you?" the shop-owner greeted the moment Valens passed through a number of stalls with a dozen different sets of nails being displayed over them and into the two-story building where a woman with long, black hair welcomed him, green eyes widening in expectation.
"Oh," Valens muttered, staring around the shelves lining the sides of the shop. "I was just curious."
"You've something in your mind?" the woman said, stepping round the counter and over to the shelves, tight-leather leggings creaking slightly with the movement. She waved a hand at a particularly bright part of the shelves that housed a variety of feathers. "This batch has been recently delivered as you can see by the condition of the feathers."
They're certainly good feathers. Flashy, and colorful, but what would you do with a bunch of feathers?
"And you use these for what, exactly?" Valens decided to ask. He was a newcomer here, and other than the fact that he'd faced a half apocalypse in Belgrave, there wasn't much he had to hide.
Can't blame a man for being curious.
"First time in Broken Lands?" the woman eyed him down with a glint in her eyes to which Valens nodded. "Fancy. You must have had quite the tutelage considering you're a Level 150 Arcane Magister. A special Mage Class, I suppose?"
"Eh," Valens said, slightly taken aback. "You could say that, yes."
"You can be at ease," the woman chuckled. "Rules are different here than in Haven's Reach. Life is different, as well."
"So I've heard," Valens said, then frowned across the shelves. "But what are these? What would anyone do with these feathers and those nails, the eyeballs and your richly decorated collection of weird things?"
"Not familiar with Alchemists, I see," the woman shaded her smile with a hand, reaching out and picking a blue feather from the shelf. "Peelbeak feathers are the most sought-after ingredient for Skarnveil poisoning. Even an apprentice Alchemist could work up a good antidote with a feather of this quality."
"Oh?" Valens arched an eyebrow as the woman led him through the opposite shelves, where he was confronted by a great deal of glasses inside of which rested masterfully tucked organs of different magnitudes. "And these, I suppose, have their uses as well?"
"Depends on your field of activity," the woman said. "If you're out hunting in the Wavering Tides, for example, you're going to need a good set of Cursed Artifacts with you. Not just any weapon would keep you safe in that place. A sword fashioned from brightsteel and dipped in a concoction made with Manticore Liver, for one, would have it glow as a warning in the presence of Tide Creepers. One could argue if there's ever a better value for your crowns if it means keeping your neck away from those creatures."
Glow as a warning? Manticore Liver? So it's not just Alchemy that they use these things. How fascinating!
"And these?" Valens sprang up toward another part where there was a rack of veil-like skins hung expertly side by side. Each one was painfully thin that he could see through them with ease. "Skin to wrap it around your body for a fashionable disguise? Or is there anything else at play here?"
"Again, depends on the job," the woman's smile widened, and she bound her hands behind her back, stepping gently beside Valens as if he was a little child asking obvious questions. "Wearing the skin of a Witherlaced would let you walk amongst Hollows as if you're one of their own. Perfect disguise for those who are in need of discretion."
"How much?" Valens asked.
The woman eyed him once again, this time lingering as if in deliberate consideration. "Three hundred crowns."
That's… expensive, right?
"Rather steep," Valens said.
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"That's because it's delicate work," the woman said. "The skin of a Witherlaced is much similar to a shrunken, dried bark of a tree that would break off if you're in the least inattentive during the skinning process. Not to mention, there are hardly more than a few skinners who could handle the job. Half the price is for their expertise."
"So you buy these from adventurers, I presume?" Valens said, waving a hand around the shop. "Sort of like a normal shop where instead of getting a delivery of boxes, you'd get certain corpses of dwellers and have them skinned or split into valuable parts."
"Exactly," the woman nodded. "You can't bring these things to Haven's Reach since the boundaries would burn them into ashes the moment they come in touch with the very air of our little paradise. But I guess things are changing. You've heard the recent news from Melton?"
"Melton?" Valens froze. "Never been there myself, but do tell me those news. What do they say?"
"Belgrave is no more. A part of the boundaries fell," the woman said, face creasing into a scowl. "They say a group of Terrors took hold of the city, with two Dreads being present in their ranks. The Divine Orders sent their valuable men to keep the tides from spilling out into the other cities. But that isn't the end of it."
"Oh?" Valens arched an eyebrow. "Is there something else?"
"There's talk about some man," the woman said, whispering as if there were ears behind the shelves trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. "Nobody knows who he is, but supposedly he saved thousands of people from that chaos. Even a Dread halted against his presence. They say he could be related to the Ancients."
"Surely not!" Valens said. "Ancients are long gone, right?"
"I doubt they're dead," the woman shook her head. "A storm is coming. Already, the prices are going up. More people are risking a trip to the Broken Lands. They want to get stronger to be prepared against… whatever is approaching. I—"
Then she stopped, blinking at Valens for a second before clearing her throat. "Anyway," she muttered. "Is there something else I can help you with? I take it that you're not here to buy anything, as it is."
"Ah, thanks," Valens was rather surprised by the woman's sudden change of topic. "You've been the most helpful. I suppose there's so much I need to learn here. I'll see myself out."
"The name's Seris," the woman said, smiling him a good smile. "I'd be glad to help a young Mage out anytime."
……
The Second Ring was full of similar shops, and by the time the crimson sun of the Broken Lands gave way to the cool winds of the night, Valens's head was troubled with all the things he'd seen during his outing.
Percival once told me that they have two different worlds, but the difference is rather stark. There's a magical medievality to it here in the Broken Lands.
That involved skinners, monster hunters, adventurers, creatures, shadowy lands, and ancient sites. There were maps of so-called hunting grounds, but the entirety of the Broken Lands has yet to be mapped after hundreds of years. According to a shop owner, there was no end to it, and without the Gates set in certain cities, it was way too easy to get lost in the endless acres of this place.
That sparked something within Valens, though. A sense of excitement, a call of yearning. Off with the twisted riddles he'd left behind in the Haven's Reach. That could be a possibility. Then he'd get Nomad and the others, and they would set off on a grand adventure.
Nothing too complicated. They could live a life here, and Valens rather thought he'd be a good adventurer, considering the field was often related to one's ability to fend for oneself in the Broken Lands. He could even pick up the skinning as a part-time job rather than displaying his healing skills and gathering unnecessary attention.
We're in desperate need of money.
Before he made a decision, however, he had the mind to have a chat with the rest of his company to see how they'd feel about that. Granted, he was only entertaining the thought since, after a week or two, they would go out for Celme's Trial, but a part of him believed it could solve the question of Selin's class removal quite easily.
How expensive could it be, right?
Back at the Crowd House Inn, he found the group waiting for him in the same hall, Nomad pretending to stab a fork at his food, Selin taking little bites out of her greasy chicken, Celme having already devoured whatever had been on her plate.
"What a fascinating trip it was!" Valens said as he poured himself over into a chair, the wooden thing creaking happily under him. "Did you know they use monsters for all kinds of things? Weapons. Elixirs. Potions. Cloaks! Is there truly an end to the possibilities?"
"There's not," Celme said, giving him a look. "But to actually enjoy those things you need money, which we don't have."
"It'll be easy work once we go out hunting," Nomad said confidently. "A couple hundred Skarnveils or Manticores will solve the money problem quick. I'm a bit of a butcher myself, so I can handle the job once we have enough bodies. But to actually secure connections, we'll have to join the Adventurer's Guild."
"What?!" Celme's eyes went wide. "We can't do that. We're not like those slackwit fools. The only good they do is for themselves. They don't care about the others—"
"Hold on," Nomad said, shaking his head. "We're not trying to change the game here. It'll be just for the perks. A golden badge from the Adventurer's Guild can help us open a lot of doors."
"Golden badge?" Valens asked.
"Uh," Nomad grunted. "They have badges for the people. You start from bronze, then go all the way up to brightsteel. You have silver, gold, diamond in between. Getting the silver badges shouldn't be a problem. We're both Proven, and our little Berserker's about to become one. A golden one, though, will be tricky."
"And why would we need the Adventurer's Guild badges?" Valens couldn't help but ask. "I mean, what's the point? I already have a Master badge from the Resni's Guild, and I couldn't find any other use for it other than an occasional chat with a certain Magus."
"You have what now?" Celme asked, eyes widening further to the point that they looked like they were about to pop out. "A Master Mage's badge? As in, a true Master Mage?"
"I believe you're repeating the same words," Valens said.
"That's big," Nomad muttered.
"Is it?" Valens leaned closer.
"Resni's Guild is everywhere," Celme said, narrowing her eyes at him. "They should have an office in the Ashen City as well. They'll welcome you like a King if you were to visit them."
"A King, you say?" Valens muttered thoughtfully.
Right… The Guild has a wide array of knowledge. I could ask a few questions about the City of Magisters while at it.
"Still, building a reputation through the Adventurer's Guild is a must," Nomad said after a while. "We need a solid story. An explanation when people start asking questions when we visit other cities."
"Right," Valens said. "I suppose my being a Master wouldn't be much of a help to you guys. By the way, I found a solution to the money problem. I'll become a skinner for a change."
"A skinner?" Celme frowned. "You mean those people who carve the monsters out like butchers?"
"My Master has once told me I have the most delicate fingers he's ever seen," Valens said, and it was true. "I daresay I can handle myself with a few dried husks and corpses. It'll help us move to a bigger inn, as well. We all deserve a little break from chaos, don't you think? Well, here we are, a week away from venturing out into the unknown. Might as well enjoy it."
……