Cursed Explorer of the Arcana

"No, but… Why does this place look so damn shiny?" I look around in awe. "Are we still in Turan?" We traveled at a solid pace, so seeing this level of change in a single day of travel between towns is baffling.

It's a completely fair question. This level of splendor is just a step below the stuff I saw in Mythralis, and maybe another step below Serban. And the place isn't even some sort of grand capital or crucial trade center, yet money around here doesn't seem to be in short supply.

Still, I keep both my tiara and gloves in my backpack. They're pricey pieces, and I have a long and bleak record of tempting my luck.

Kayla and Victor seem equally wordless, and Mom takes this opportunity to show off her wanderer wisdom. She's been traveling as an adventurer for what, twenty-plus years, so it's not too shabby at all.

"We're in Katona, birthplace of the former Battle King." She explains before furrowing her brows. "Or maybe the one before him… Doesn't matter. The point is that almost all prestigious martial schools within the country call this place home. This is where knights of Turan's dynasties are made."

"Oh wow…" I try to at least pretend I'm interested. She already lost me at the 'swordmanship' part, but it doesn't really matter in the first place. "Well, we're not here for sightseeing, so where do we begin?"

"First, we give it a thought." Alvaro answers and sits down on a nearby bench. His armor is imposing even amongst the militaristic people of Turan, however, his attitude is that of an old, retired, and well-fed grandma. "We're talking about robberies, high-stakes ones, and without ever witnessing the thief. Why here?" He asks and motions for us to join his game.

"Well, the place is rich…" I begin because this sort of thing is very much to my liking. "But it's also quite secure from what I've seen. The risk just isn't worth it."

Victor's jaw drops before I can continue. He realised something.

"But hired help moved southwest. There is a vacuum…" He points out. "The guards are stretched thin."

"Indeed." The old man nods with a satisfied smile. "But still, why here?"

That's not the main question on my mind. Why go around robbing in any city? For a quick profit, of course, but adventurers are rarely, if ever, hired for that sort of work.

"What did they take?" I ask the question to which it all points. "Jewelry, coin, or-"

Of all the people, it's Kayla who speaks up. "People. The schools…"

"Indeed." Alvaro's face darkens, and he fishes out the contract from his bag. "It doesn't state here what they were after, only the places where they struck. Two smithies, an auctionhouse, and five schools."

Of course. Which parent wouldn't be willing to fork out all they had for their children, for the heirs of their family? It's worth more than any gold or gem.

"Of course, this is only a hypothesis." Alvaro continues. "But it'd explain why the request is so vague, and why we're only meant to find clues and not retrieve anything. As well as to why the authorities can't act openly."

It'd be a complete embarrassment.

I don't know what's scarier… The fact that we're after a band ballsy enough to anger an entire nation, or that the old man was able to deduce this much from a simple job posting alone. Or maybe he already had an idea back when he accepted it.

"And I guess you want us to take the lead on this one. Because whether the families pay, or anyone dies, isn't our problem." Victor says and folds his arms. His voice does sound empty and callous, but that's not because he's uncaring.

There are already scenarios and the odds running through his mind. The sole reason I'm willing to put up with him acting like he can order me around. When it comes to putting the pieces together, he's the best, but we simply know too little.

Our escort knight and teacher remains silent and smiling on the bench, meaning we're on our own. Sure, Mom and Dad are around, but I'd rather not have them lend a hand in the first place.

"We need to know more. The problem is, I doubt the guards or any self-respecting swordsmaster would fill us in." If anyone knows how troublesome pride can be, then it is me. "Do we know when the last incident was? Have they even asked for ransom yet?"

Alvaro only shrugs. "I shared all we know. It's obvious why nobody took this quest in the first place. And don't forget that we're most likely on a time crunch."He grins widely and throws Victor a pouch with some coins. "In case you need to bribe someone… Now have a good hunt, children of Krieg."

The three of us share a look, and our reality sinks in. This challenge is perhaps even more troublesome than herding the migrating hills. Back then, the task was right in front of our eyes… Now we don't even know where to begin.

So I hold out my hand. "The contract!" I politely ask for the piece of paper that proves we're working and should soothe some nerves. And more importantly, we need locations.

Victor huddles closer, and we get a few names at the very least.

Victor taps the auction house as his choice. "Kayla, can you find some smarter birds, crows maybe, for scouting?" Then he gets a feel for the pouch's weight he just received, getting a rough estimate of its worth. "With this, maybe we can learn something around there."

Yeah, this bastard has already gambled enough to count money just by feeling the quantity and weight. Of course, our cheery elf – who usually acts very much unlike an elf despite being twice as elf as me – nods and makes a call. She whispers loudly, uncaring about all the gazes she draws.

I like the initiative, however, I had something else in mind.

"You do that. I'll check these smithies, see what they stole, and look around." I say, well aware that it might be a bootless errand. "People of the craft tend to speak the same language." Or can't stand each other like socks and sandals, but those are the more circumstantial cases.

"Brilliant. Meanwhile, I'll see if we can cash in the job you three have splendidly completed." The old man joins the chatter as if we were a team. "Dinner is on me!"

We earned that money in the first place, you know…

Mom held back splendidly until now, but she finally buts in. "It's too early to split up. There's no need to rush, so take things one step at a time. You first need to look around the city, study the layout, mood, and take care of lodgings."

I'm not a big fan of conventions. "Good, we'll do that on the go, and you'll take care of the last one. I expect the softest bed!" Throwing my words over my shoulder, I turn to head out.

But Dad grabs my shoulder. "Eli, you know how this usually ends…"

Goog Gods, even they noticed the pattern by now, although I've been doing a decent job of avoiding kidnappings recently. It's not like I'm totally helpless either.

"Look, you won't always hold my hand… And besides, if anyone tries anything funny, I'll just burn down half a district, so you'll know. Okay?" I ask with an innocent smile. I love them to the bone, I really do, but I need them to back down this time.

And they do. This trip is equal parts family vacation and me learning the ins and outs of a job I can't exactly weasel my way out of. Working for the Fist was part of the deal from the start, so them tagging along is just a bonus. Although Val is somewhat missing from here…

With roles arranged, we all head out.

Despite brushing her off, Mom's advice comes in handy right away. First, I totally have no clue where I'm headed, and second, the mood around the streets is a little odd. And I mean odd, because besides some of the posh, regal aura of the place, nothing feels off whatsoever.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

As if a chain of high-end robberies – or kidnappings, in case our theory is right – were all just a big hoax. My attire, dirty and functional without any extra apparel, does draw a few eyes, marking me as an outsider, but that's normal. If anything, this trip has already opened my eyes to these tidbits.

While walking, again, just like back in the days, I talk to myself again. "People can say so much even without opening their mouths." And I prefer it this way, quiet and less irritating. "But the contract isn't about solving anything. We only need clues, so as long as I don't sniff into this crap too deep, this should go smoothly."

Famous last words, but this time I'll try to keep myself to them.

Only when I stop for some snacks does it dawn on me that all the money without responsibilities was left with Victor, so I'm forced to pay from my own thin pouch of coins. A single silver – which is hella expensive for a sandwich, regardless of the Feral Rose Turkey meat – makes me feel quite poor, even though I'm not.

That hedgehog job should pay about twenty gold, and then there's whatever treasure Val and I left with Martha. Yeah, we'll need that money, and probably some more, so let's keep up the tempo.

Now looking like a proper traveler, stuffing my mouth with actual food at last, and covered in the dust of the road, I start asking around. There's no shame in stopping people; worst case, they curse you and walk away. Of course, I'm not interrogating them about who went missing and all the delicate details… Oh no, I'm merely looking for a place to have my stuff maintained and a few odd jobs.

Jobs that might as well be related to my case, along with their circumstances.

I rinse and repeat until both of the smithies come up, and I'm even pointed towards a certain hunter's lodge at the eastern edge of the city. In no particular order, I visit the smities because hunter's hut is nowhere nearby. Unfortunately, the first stop turns out to be a dud.

"Closed?" I can perfectly read the sign, but it's still the middle of the day, way too early to close. "Well, this hasn't stopped me before…"

Backhorn Arms

At least I know before trying to push the door open. No luck.

Now, this is not Solermo, I can't just break in to snoop around without consequences. Sure, men of the law are scarce, but these people all around do hold their chins high, meaning they won't overlook what even I'd consider daylight burglary at first glance.

That doesn't stop me from walking around the building and checking the alleyway that leads to the back. Besides the special lock, I sensed no mana at the front, and the buggers we're after must've entered somehow.

At a glance, the place is nothing outstanding, definitely not a grand target in my eyes. And after I've taken a good look… My opinion remains the same. The only person I find nearby is a ragged ram demikin, smoking his pipe in the very back.

He throws me a glance before barking over his shoulder. "We're closed!"

We? You look both hungover and constipated at the same time, wearing clothes I wouldn't use as cleaning rugs… Now I definitely can't see what's worth- or what was worth robbing about this place.

"What? They stole your skill, or you're just scared they might be back?" I ask with a hint of mockery. There's no better way to rile up an artisan.

And of course, it works.

"Listen here, you little shit!" He throws his pipe at me with gusto. "I'll carve damn drying runes into your fucking skin, watch you wither, and you use as a doormat to wipe the dirt from my shoes! It's only my tools gone, not my dignity!" He rages freely, huffing once he has no more words for me.

I might steal that line, but let's keep pushing a little while the iron is hot.

So I open my mouth again. "Then buy new ones! I'm in a hurry, and your place seemed the cheapest. I'll be back by-"

"Don't you ever fucking dare come here!" The massive man of a ram walks into my face and points down the alley. "There's no replacing my essence forge, and the last thing I need is your yapping." He leans closer and growls into my face. "Leave!"

And leaving, I promptly do.

I might've made a pseudo-enemy today, but what he said was more interesting than I expected. An essence forge, huh… Those things are mainly used to enhance material by melting their essence in hopes of creating something new. A highly regulated and ridiculously hazardous technique. Besides a few very precise and tested recipes, it's basically gambling with both the materials and one's life.

Pure essence is basically mana with dissolved matter, and it's prone to… boom boom.

"At the same time, it's also the size of a proper furnace, and then some." I tap my chin and make my way towards my second destination. "Stealing it without a trace… that's pretty damn impressive. Most likely some machinations with earth, but then it'd also need to be iron. Perhaps space and some dark…"

I keep thinking about how I'd approach a hush-hush gig like that, and my odds would be bleak.

However, no kidnapping here. An essence furnace was likely the most outrageously expensive item in the shop and possibly even within the range of a dozen blocks. It'd be worth checking if the city has a black market to ask around.

Anyway, it's too early to draw conclusions, so I head towards Smithy 2.

While the great schools of martial prowess could be said to be largely focused towards the north and east of the city, my first stop was to the west, and this time I'm heading for roughly the center. I don't see a pattern, and that's gonna complicate things.

Soon enough – maybe twenty or so minutes of leisurely walk – and I stand before a much grander workshop of steel and fire. This one proudly calls itself the Silver Antler and is still open to business, thank the Gods.

"Let's hope it's not another sandal and socks situation…" I say that, and knock on the doorframe as I enter. "My luck can't be that bad."

Upon entry, something even more peculiar catches my attention.

Sure, there are a bunch of armed gents and ladies around, especially since this shop had both arms and armors in droves, however, not all of them are customers. Identify shows each of them to as Warriors two around level 250, while another is beyond my reach.

Being around people who are dangerous and murderous tends to sharpen the senses in a peculiar way. And I'm razor sharp, something the strongest of them keenly notices.

The woman should be about Mom's age, intimidating as they get, and very, very well armed. And I'm not talking about the steel, despite the location.

"What is your business?" She questions me straight away.

Although her visage betrays no violence, I can feel the tension in the air. She's ready to strike me down at a moment's notice. It's best not to tempt fate too much.

"True, I'm not here to buy any stupid swords…" I try not to look at the scabbard at her waist. "But I do have business with the owner, and maybe take a glance at a few pieces of armor. I'm expecting pay and a lot of work, so safety first." To appear harmless, I also throw in my charming smile.

"Can't meet the owner." She states coldly, and from the corner of my eye, I catch the other two shifting their position slightly closer.

"That's a shame, I bet he'd be interested."

"What do you want with him?" The woman asks, her stance and face remaining unfazed.

Instead of replying, I fish the contract out of my back and present it instead of beating around the bush any longer. We need clues, and she does appear to be on the side of the law, although definitely not part of the regular guards.

Her eyes narrow as her gaze sweeps through the lines, but instead of relief, her face turns towards suspicion. "Someone like you shouldn't have that. Who are you working for?" The woman pulls me aside.

Gods, lady, do I really need to reveal all my cards?

There's another piece of paper in my stash, one used to pass checkpoints and help me out when people get nosy about my work. Identification is one step towards the favorable side of the law, and mine is somewhat special. The insignia of the Fist is a universal key.

"I'm just asking around, and as you can guess, my superior more than fits the requirements for this delicate matter." I say with my voice turning from innocent to unamused. "So?"

Reputation is worth more than money. Perhaps that's also the reason I'm worth so much to the avaricious mercenaries, and why I enjoy wielding that reputation so smugly.

My trick works, and the facade of confidence cracks in an instant. After all, the Fist's armies are a large reason why the Elder Line still stands.

"A cadet… So be it, but I'm going with you." The woman relents in the end and leads the way.

Our little chat has drawn a few gazes, but neither of us gives the curious consumers much attention. We walk past the shelves and showcases, past the clerks, and through the door to the back.

We're welcomed by furnaces burning bright, and five stations with top-of-the-line equipment playing a song of iron on their anvils. It's a sight I'm familiar with after spending about a third of my time in the academy cooped up in the workshop. Heat, loud noises, and the taste of ash and iron in the air…

"Fancy." I compliment the place for its organization.

In the very middle, an elf is hard at work. The man looks beyond his prime by human standards, which means he's lived centuries by that very same standard. His grip on the hammer is relaxed and confident, while his concentration doesn't waver even for a second.

It's considered rude to break that concentration, so I stop and wait instead. Instead of caution, I'd call it respect for the craft. His golden hair isn't graying yet, and his eyes, green as mine, show plenty of vigor, but with age comes a certain increase in value for respect.

Me personally, I'd just love to get things done, but if I were him and someone waltzed in and started bugging me while I'm in the middle of something… I'd be pissed.

"So why all this security?" Instead of the master, I decide to ask the guard dog instead. "Did they take something precious, or are you concerned they'd be back for more?"

"Neither." The woman folds her arms, waiting by my side. "We're afraid they'd be back for the witness."

A witness? Why didn't you start with that?