Solo Strategy

Leaving the former captain's house, I roughly calculated how much money I had left and, with some bitterness, admitted I'd have to tighten my belt and postpone buying materials for the glider for a while. However, in the next two weeks, I planned to focus on intense training, so I wasn't expecting to spend much anyway. Besides, before working on the glider, I needed to visit Katashi and make arrangements with him. Only after that would I figure out where to get the money.

Pondering this, I decided to stop by the Sea Market, where goods from all over the world were traded. In its numerous shops, you could find practically any ingredient.

The Sea Market of Deytran sprawled along the southwestern edge of the port, occupying a wide, curved quay where the bay's water almost touched the first rows of stalls. Here, people didn't shout; they spoke in undertones, but every word was worth gold. Not figuratively—literally. This was the place where all the trade arteries of Ain converged into a single, boiling vein—pulsating, alive, smelling of salt, spices, wet wood, and hot iron.

Under carved wooden canopies stretched with canvas stood rows of stalls and booths, filled with everything the world itself could offer. Piled there were bundles of dried herbs and powders tied with braided cords, emanating sharp, viscous, enveloping aromas, from the tart bark of eastern slopes to the spicy stamens of steppe flowers. A little further, there were crates with shimmering minerals, rare metals, bronze ignots shining with gold, light-colored obsidian from volcanic mountains, sea monster tusks, and feathers of flying reptiles. Everything was mixed, yet not in chaos, but rather, in an intricate—like a woven pattern—trade system, where everyone knew what they came for and what they sought.

Wandering through this market meant inhaling the scents of distant shores. Oily cloves from Indjinn, sweet incense from the Charred Isles, capricious, almost alive, roots of the gray vine, which could only be found in the flooded caves of Attar. And next to them, cages with creatures: from colorful birds singing strange melodies to translucent eels writhing in barrels of brackish water.

This was a market not of goods but of meanings. Everything that ended up here bore the marks of a long journey, sea, storm, deal, risk, and bounty. Some goods were marked "by order," and you were allowed near them only after a preliminary conversation. Others, on the contrary, lay on the stalls with ostentatious carelessness, like a chance occurrence carrying a secret message for those who knew where to look.

The sea market wasn't particularly decorated—it decorated itself on its own. The chaos of displayed goods, smells, voices, gestures, and dialects merged into a strange symphony, quiet but rich. Here, people bought not only rarities but also access to secrets: the recipe for a nameless poison, fibers of a fabric that remained dry even under deep-sea pressure, grain that yielded crops even in salty soil.

After strolling through the market rows, I found a couple of stalls selling Ptah skywood. This was a special timber, very light, hollow inside like bamboo, yet hard and strong. Moreover, it "conducted" Air magic exceptionally well. This wood, along with valirium, was what I planned to use for the frame of my future hang glider.

The price for skywood was, to put it mildly, biting hard, as such trees grew very far away—somewhere on the southern islands inhabited by numerous monsters, where, according to legends, great Rukhs nested. And delivering this material to Deytran was no easy task, either, due to the unstable wind rose and swift currents.

Leaving the Sea Market area, I realized I had forgotten to ask the former captain if he knew a spell called Air Bubble. Most likely, he did, but tomorrow I would need to confirm and ask him to teach me, after which I could consider my finances for the near future entirely settled. For now... For now, I had enough for all daily expenses and for alchemy.

With these thoughts, I continued strolling through the city, enjoying its unusual beauty, which seemed to have stepped out of illustrations in ancient history textbooks. During this walk, I got hungry and, trusting my memory of the future, I stopped at one of the cauponae—as taverns for the wealthy were called in Deytran. In them, you could not only enjoy delicious food but also performances by bards and the company of a charming conversationalist. These conversationalists were girls whom we earthlings immediately dubbed geishas.

I wasn't interested in chatting with the fairer sex, but I did want a good meal, so I entered a caupona familiar from the Last Cycle, bearing the somewhat suggestive name "Wayward Doe." At this time of day, the place was mostly empty, with more than two-thirds of the tables free.

I was about to take my usual corner spot, which offered a great view of both the entrance and the kitchen door, when, passing by a small group of young people drinking some wine, I happened to overhear them discussing last night's concert. That piqued my interest, and I sat down nearby. Of course, I made it look like I was only interested in the food, but I did activate my Perception aura. However, I could have openly eavesdropped—the youth didn't care if anyone was listening. On the contrary, they spoke loudly, trying to prove something to each other.

When a servant offered to invite a young lady to my table for conversation, I politely refused, ordering only food and something to drink, as usual preferring good beer even to the most exquisite wine.

My memory of the future didn't let me down—the food here was excellent, each dish a true masterpiece worthy of Michelin stars. But, of course, expensive. What one could spend here on a single lunch would keep an average city family well-fed for a week, and not even have to deny themselves much. Nevertheless, after tasting the first dish that was served, I immediately agreed that the prices were justified. And the beer here was a real deal, on par with the best Czech brews. Taking a sip of this drink, I caught myself every time squeezing my eyes shut in delight, savoring its bitterness and lingering aftertaste.

In short, I got genuine pleasure from the food and beer, and for a while, I felt not like a tired traveler who had crossed almost the entire continent in just three months, but like some wealthy sybarite. And I couldn't say that this role was repulsive or unpleasant to me. Besides, the conversation I overheard turned out to be interesting as well.

In particular, I learned that the bard girl hadn't performed alone, but with a small troupe that provided musical accompaniment to her performance. The girl herself played some kind of string instrument—judging by the overheard descriptions, it was nothing more than an earthly guitar. But no less than the bard herself, the youths remembered one of her assistants, who played "on five drums at once"! And he beat out such a spirited rhythm that "your feet just itched to start dancing."

Hearing all that, I arrived at an unequivocal conclusion that not only the bard girl was an earthling, but also those who accompanied her. The youngsters emphasized far too much that it was the first time they had seen such musical instruments as the troupe performed with. Yes, they resembled what was already known in Ain, but they were different and, most importantly, sounded in a new way.

I also found out that meeting the conqueror of young hearts wouldn't be possible for now, as right after the performance, the bard girl and her assistants boarded one of the Trade League ships and sailed off in an unknown direction. One of the young men at the next table suggested that they'd gone on tour to other cities in Ain. And in principle, there was a certain grain of sense in that assumption.

After eating my fill—so much that I even had to loosen my belt a little—I got up from the table with some difficulty. The youngsters, on their part, clearly intended to continue their revelry, inviting four geishas to their table to entertain them with conversations. Mentally wishing the young people a good evening, I left the "Wayward Doe."

As luck would have it, my cheerful mood was somewhat spoiled by an untimely rain. The nasty kind, drizzling, cold. Because of it, I postponed my further walk around the city and headed straight to the Kindhearted Profit.

By this time, the workers, under the strict supervision of the quarter headman, had almost finished. The house I rented sparkled with cleanliness, the courtyard was swept, and even the small indoor fountain was repainted. New bed linen had also been purchased, and after I looked at it and approved the headman's choice, two not-so-young maids began to make the beds.

While they were busy with that, I went to the marshal and retrieved my belongings. I also introduced myself to the guard sergeant and chatted with him a bit, ensuring he formed the impression I needed of the new tenant. I didn't lie much in this conversation, just presented myself in a favorable light and barely touched on the adventures that had befallen me.

The sun was already beginning to dip toward the horizon when, in a relatively formal setting, I was handed the keys to the house and the weapon cabinet, along with an amulet managing the protective spells. After that, the headman once again explained the accepted norms of behavior in the insula. Nothing special, just the usual rules of communal living: don't make too much noise, don't bring suspicious people into the house, and if I decided to throw orgies, make sure they didn't affect the neighbors. This was all fine by me, so I agreed to everything and assured the headman that I would be an exemplary resident.

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If I had bought this house instead of renting it, the local etiquette would have required me to lay out a feast and invite all the neighbors to a housewarming, so they could form an opinion about the new resident. But since I was renting, I was, so to speak, exempt from this duty. So, as soon as the workers and maids finished their tasks, I talked to the headman for a few minutes and was left alone, firmly closing the door behind me and not forgetting to drop the bar.

First, I checked the protective spells. There was nothing special about them, just the usual set: protection against spying and eavesdropping, and something like a magical alarm. Everything worked as it should and was linked to the amulet the headman had given me, along with the massive key to the front door. I could have also checked the house for any secrets, but thanks to my memory of the future, I knew the building was clean in that regard and held no surprises.

So, after checking the rooms, I donned my armor and, taking Striking Whisper in hand, descended into the courtyard. Even though I planned to focus on improving my magical skills in the near future, I couldn't neglect training with the spear either.

I started with standard routines and then began to recall the combinations I used during the Dance, trying to make these intuitive moves more conscious. At the same time, I was getting used not only to the armor but also to wearing a helmet. My goal was to make the armor and helmet feel like a second skin, and I was still far from achieving that. This was especially evident when I tried to combine spear techniques with gymnastic skills—no matter how good my armor was, it still imposed limitations.

After about an hour of intense training, I briefly felt something akin to conscious satori, and then I spent almost as much time trying to re-enter that state. Unfortunately, I couldn't yet manage it, but I felt that this time I had gotten a bit closer to controlling the Dance. True, I was still far from full control, but every journey begins with a single step.

After finishing my training, I filled a tub with water from the fountain, warmed it using household magic, and washed up, cleaning off the sweat and tidying myself. Then I lit a fire in the hearth, and while the water in the kettle was boiling, I changed into casual clothes.

Once the water boiled, I took the kettle off the fire and tossed in a few pinches of ground tea leaves I had bought at one of the shops in Sea Market. Pouring the hot drink into a travel mug, I thought about how I ought to buy a tableware set and maybe change the table too, as well as get at least a couple of wicker chairs, so I wouldn't be embarrassed to invite anyone over. I had no doubt that I would have guests.

Enjoying the bittersweet taste of the tea, I reflected for a while on how I could improve the house, but soon my thoughts drifted elsewhere. The conversation with Joanna and her brother came to mind again.

Alas, since that meeting, I still hadn't decided what to do with the new knowledge and guesses thrust upon me out of nowhere. Ignore the Righteous Elevation Sect? More precisely, as Kiadi suggested, simply wait for them to contact me? Or should I actively search for this mysterious organization myself? I preferred the latter, as I didn't like to wait for things to happen. Yet for now, I did not know how to go about this matter.

Even at its peak, the Righteous Elevation Sect never spread its influence west of the Great Ridge. So, to find them, I'd have to return east. For example, to the same Tries, which, as Aun had told me, was once under the sect's control. Even though it was many years ago, there must have been some documents, testimonies, or something similar left behind. And someone had been paying for the VIP box at the Tries Arena all these years. I was sure that if I started digging in that direction, I would find at least some clue. Moreover, unlike Kiadi, I would have access to information from the Shadow. If I asked the Man of a Thousand Faces to write a letter of recommendation to the Eastern Brothers in Shadow, I didn't think he would refuse me such a small favor.

Only, a journey to the East, especially now that I've finally reached Pentapolis, would ruin all my other plans.

Of course, there were also Kiadi's words about a girl resembling Reygyana being seen in Deytran, but I didn't believe those rumors. No way a spellcaster with an excellent level of Illusion and Mental magic, over a century of experience, and used to hiding would expose themselves so carelessly to be recognized. That was something Joanna and her brother might believe in as a "coincidence," but let's face it, that pair was blinded by the thirst for revenge. I understood that those rumors were likely nothing more than lies. Or, worse yet, an expertly devised trap, the sort I definitely shouldn't have stuck my head into.

As for me, the sect had already shown interest in me thrice. And the worst part was, I didn't know why they were interested. Especially since, in the Last Cycle, I hadn't heard of this organization at all. Not just me, none of the earthlings I knew mentioned it either.

What sparked the sect's interest in me in this Cycle? Its first display was the appearance of a woman in the box during my performance at the tournament. But that could be explained by the fact that my duels were indeed very unusual. And what I showed in the Arena piqued the interest of many.

Yet this interest seemed trivial compared to the sect orchestrating a Transition malfunction for me, using their deeply undercover agent. And to that encounter with Reygyana in the Wicked Woods, too... After all, the position that damned "girl" held in the sect was clearly far from the lowest.

I couldn't make sense of it…

Unless the Righteous Elevation Sect somehow found out that I remembered the future? But in that case, they should have acted far more harshly! If they really aimed to free Eyrat and open the Road to Giard, then they had to realize that someone with memory of the future would want to try to stop them. This meant that the most logical action on their part would have been to eliminate me physically. Especially since for a mage of Rey's level, killing me in that forest would have been a simple and straightforward task. If she could handle a squad of Sidhe with one spell, she could wipe me out with a snap of her fingers. I had no illusions about that. So, the assumption that they knew about my memory of the future didn't hold up either. But then... Another dead end.

At this point, I was already eager to find this sect and discover what had caught their interest in me. However, I had no idea how to approach this matter without dropping everything and returning to Tries. Rushing headlong to the other side of the world based solely on the words of Joanna and Kiadi seemed, to put it mildly, reckless and unwise. If I were certain that everything the brother and sister had said was true and not their conjecture, then it might have been worth serious consideration. But I always had to keep in mind that their information was not only incomplete but also based on assumptions, rumors, and ambiguous records of centuries past.

Night had long taken hold when I reluctantly decided not to rush. After all, what had Kiadi asked of me? Not much, really. To live in Pentapolis, preferably in Deytran, and as soon as representatives of the sect approached me or showed any interest, to immediately inform either him or his sister. So, by training and studying magic, I was essentially following the plan of the officer of the Alchemists' Guild.

And to delve into these searches myself, risking encountering an opponent like Reygyana if successful? No, I wasn't ready for such adversaries yet. Not at Sapphire—that much was certain, but honestly, I wasn't sure that even at Mithril, I would be able to handle such a powerful "girl."

Maybe I should have sent Scully to search for the sect? No, not an option. Even if I managed to interest the huntress, which I doubted, the story of the Last Cycle could repeat itself, where the Aussie, driven by her instincts, would go after an enemy beyond her power and get killed. I couldn't risk the life of a Shard, especially without concrete evidence that success would prevent the invasion. And such evidence I did not have.

Besides, leaving Pentapolis right now was definitely not the best option. Very soon, Arien would bring the Ainuminati to this area. Katashi was supposed to appear here any day now. Dice was having fun somewhere nearby, hopefully still in Feyst. Scully was also around. Ronin, if I was correct, would also end up in Deytran in the next couple of months. And if my memory of the future was to be trusted, then Morpheus and Nate were about to "appear on the horizon."

No, definitely, no search for a mysterious sect was worth wrecking all my plans and ideas. Of course, I would always keep the factor of the Righteous Elevation Sect in mind, but I wasn't going to adjust my main plan to fit their search. Too much was at stake to risk like that and put all my eggs in one basket based only on Joanna and Kiadi's stories. Maybe someday I would regret such a choice. Or maybe, on the contrary, I'd praise myself in the future for sticking to the main strategy. In any case, it would be the result of my choice, and I was ready to take responsibility for it.

With this thought, I went upstairs and hung my armor in the weapon cabinet, leaving it open. However, I took Striking Whisper with me. For my personal room, I chose the bedroom right across from the "office" and next to the staircase leading to the first floor. Sitting on the bed, I unbuckled my belt and bared the First Feather, placing it on my lap.

"I haven't chatted with you in a while..." I began my story.

I had long noticed that "talking" with Katashi's Firstborn calmed me and helped with organizing my thoughts. They say a similar effect is observed in those who keep a diary, and there's even some scientific explanation for this phenomenon.

My detailed narration, interspersed with my own thoughts on various matters, lasted almost half an hour.

"By the way, as I'm telling you this," I ran my index finger along the blade, "a thought came to me. The thought is this. I'm a Sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild, yet I hardly use the opportunities this position offers. And that's wrong. For example, I can post some notice on the Board. As I recall from the Last Cycle, many earthlings joined this Guild. So, I can write something useful on the Guild Task Board. And I can do it in English, for instance. I'm sure such a note would catch the eye of any earthling who glances at the Board. But what should I write in this notice? Maybe something simple and basic? For example, define terms? Questers, sortudo. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to record a story about the island that sank due to a cataclysm, and thus my tale could become something like the official version. What do you think, is it a good idea or not?" Naturally, the blade lying on my lap left this question unanswered. "Even if the effect of such a notice is minimal, someone will still read it. Moreover, it wouldn't cost me much. Just have to go to the Guild branch, write a few copies, and pay for their placement on all the Boards in Pentapolis, and possibly in nearby cities. Right, I should do this, maybe even tomorrow, after training with Eddart. But for now—it's time to sleep. Good night, First Feather..."