"Good morning. Is Grumpy Shaman here?" I asked politely, keeping my tone light, almost cheerful, though my eyes never softened.
"Depends on who is asking." The receptionist, a woman who looked more worn down than the counter she sat behind, narrowed her eyes at me. Her voice was sharp and defensive—like a cornered rat baring teeth.
I didn't answer right away. I simply stared. My gaze tightened, one eye narrowing with that slow weight I knew carried more force than words. Her bravado faltered almost instantly.
"I don't know if he is—"
"Woman," I interrupted coldly, taking one deliberate step forward, "that was a yes or no question." My eyes didn't leave hers, and she visibly trembled.
'I just want to know whether it's his real name or not,' I thought with a faint curl of amusement tugging at my lips. 'How hard is that?'
"B-Boss!" The woman suddenly shouted, turned on her heel, and hurried toward the back like a rabbit fleeing into its hole.
I let out a long, drawn-out sigh and muttered under my breath. "Ugh, this is why I hate the slums so much. Everyone reacts to my eyes like I'm about to gut them."
I glanced around while waiting, letting my gaze wander across the interior. My lips pressed into a thin line.
"…It's exactly like Steve Smith's," I whispered to myself. "And I mean exactly. Same layout, same placement of shelves, the size of the room, even where the doors are. Reception desk, everything." I could've closed my eyes and navigated it like I was back in Steve's smithy. That… was unsettling.
The sound of heavy boots thudded against the wooden floor.
"Who dares?!" A voice bellowed.
A dwarf stomped out from the same back door the receptionist had fled through, hammer clutched in his hand. His beard was soot-stained, his eyes bloodshot, and he carried the kind of energy that screamed temperamental drunk uncle.
"Oh, Mister Grumpy, you are here," I said casually, as if we were long-lost friends catching up. My hand drifted lazily to the table beside me, picking up a small dagger that rested there.
"And who are you?" The dwarf demanded, gripping his hammer so tightly his knuckles turned pale beneath the grime.
"Oh, I wonder who I might be? Your mother?" My tone snapped suddenly, my words cracking like a whip. "Who the fuck do you think I am, you stupid dwarf?" I snarled, hurling the dagger at his feet. Lightning crackled across the blade on impact, sparks leaping up the floorboards.
The dwarf froze.
'I wonder if my tactic will work,' I thought, suppressing a grin as I watched his eyes widen, his brain stumbling over itself.
Then, like flipping a switch, his entire demeanor collapsed.
"This—I am terribly sorry, Lady Pendragon!" He blurted, his voice trembling. He dropped to his knees with a thud and smashed his forehead into the floor so hard the wood cracked beneath him. "I have sinned by not recognizing you! Forgive me, Lady Pendragon!"
I blinked once, taken aback.
'Pendragon? Another reincarnation? Or just some idiot's half-memory of a story?' I thought. Either way, he even said it wrong. Unoriginal fool.'
"Pendragon, you fool." I let magic lace my voice, just enough to make the air around me hum faintly.
"I am sorry, I have sinned again!" The dwarf's forehead smacked the floor a second time, louder, leaving a fresh crack.
"Whatever. Make sure you get it right next time." I huffed and flicked my hair back, as if I were dismissing him from my royal presence.
"Yes, ma'am. Ma'am, might I know where your bodyguards are?" He asked carefully, his eyes darting around the room as though expecting hidden soldiers to emerge.
I leaned down slightly, sneering. "Sigh… do I, Lady Pendragon, need something like a bodyguard?"
"I know ma'am is a commander in the mighty Federation army, but"—his words dripped venom—"the Draig territory crawls with those disgusting black ops soldiers."
I rolled my eyes. "Let's stop with the nonsense and get to business."
"Yes, ma'am." He straightened up, still kneeling, but his hammer was now lowered in obedience.
"Now, tell me what you've been selling me." My voice sharpened, but I kept my posture lazy, letting the arrogance drip off me like perfume.
"I don't quite understand what ma'am means by that," the dwarf said, feigning confusion.
"…Right. Blacksmiths really are dumb." I gave him a long, pointed look. "You already know we're the reason the Dead Forest is so stirred up, don't you?"
"Uh… yes?"
"Well, our operation has failed." I tilted my head, glaring at him as though it were entirely his fault.
"What?! I—I am sorry, ma'am! I only made the armor stronger and faster!" His voice broke, and his head dropped again in shame.
"That is true," I admitted grudgingly.
His eyes flicked up cautiously. "Ma'am, this might sound arrogant, but… will ma'am still require the big sets of armor?"
I hummed thoughtfully, letting silence stretch, watching him squirm.
"Sorry, ma'am!" He panicked again, slamming his forehead against the ground. Blood spotted the wood this time.
"They might come in useful," I finally said. "Show me the way, then."
"Yes, ma'am."
'I hate acting as someone else,' I thought sourly as I followed him through a set of double doors. 'At least I'm alone… well, mostly alone.'
"They're right behind these doors," the dwarf announced, pushing them open.
My breath caught.
Two massive suits of armor stood gleaming in the dim light.
'What the fuck… They're completely made of Adamite?' My eyes narrowed, trying to process the sight.
"When did you finish them?" I asked smoothly, masking my shock.
"Both of these armors are made entirely of Adamite," the dwarf explained with pride. "Each has artifacts embedded within to boost defenses. Despite their size, they're lighter than standard steel."
I stepped closer, fingers brushing the cold, shimmering surface. "It worries me, knowing you've used so much Adamite. People will start asking questions."
"Do not worry, ma'am. I have used my contacts to acquire every scrap without raising alarms." He puffed out his chest smugly.
My lips curled. "Hmm. Those contacts sound useful. Give them to me."
He hesitated. "Sor—ugh!"
My fist shot into his gut, making him wheeze and double over.
"If I tell you to give me something, you give it," I snapped. "Worried about payment? You'll be compensated later."
'Dwarves are so short it's annoying to hit them properly,' I thought irritably, flexing my knuckles.
"Yes, ma'am," he croaked.
"Good. Go write them down. I'll continue the inspection." I waved him off like an insect.
"Y-yes, ma'am!" He scurried out, clutching his stomach.
"Hey, Shadow," I whispered, glancing at the floor beneath me.
"Yes, ma'am?" A girl emerged from the darkness of my shadow itself, bowing respectfully.
"Don't tell anyone about my acting," I said coldly, flaring my killing intent just enough to make her swallow hard.
"Yes, ma'am." She saluted.
"Good. Once we reach a safe distance, please have your squad set up camp here.
"I already sent the order, ma'am." She melted back into the shadow.
"Oh. Okay."
I hate it when Kayda or Mom assign shadows to me. Having someone live in your shadow is just... irritating, I thought with a sigh.
I turned back to the armor, placing my hands on it. Mana flared invisibly around me. Thousands of blades sliced outward, shredding the suits into glittering fragments.
"As I thought. He's nowhere near Steve's level," I muttered, storing the ruined pieces away.
"Ma'am, we have a problem." The shadow reappeared suddenly, her tone nervous.
"What's wrong?"
"The real Pendragon is here."
I facepalmed. "Ah, fuck. Well, improv time. You'll have to get out without me."
"Are you sure, ma'am?"
"Yeah. If a fight starts, then come drag me out."
"Understood."
The building shook as a woman's voice thundered. "Who dares impersonate me, Dea Pendragon."
"Well, shit," I muttered, coughing awkwardly as dust fell from the rafters.
A tiger demi-human stormed into the room, fury blazing in her eyes. She jabbed a finger at me. "You!"
I dropped smoothly to one knee, bowing my head. "My Lady Pendragon. It's been a while."
Her anger faltered. "…Candy!? What are you doing here?" Dea's voice softened, almost timid compared to the explosion seconds ago.
'Candy? Who the fuck is Candy?' I thought, though my face remained composed.
"I heard some of my lady's plans had gone astray," I said smoothly, "so I came to help."
"I see. So he already knows," Dea muttered, shaking her head.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, bowing slightly.
She sighed, waving a hand. "Hah, I knew he'd find out anyway. Don't feel awkward about it."
I stayed silent.
"Oh, you already stored the armor? Good. We can leave, then." She gestured casually.
"I'm just waiting for the dwarf to provide extra contacts," I lied smoothly.
"I already have them; don't worry," Dea said with a smile.
"…Might I see it?" I asked, lowering my head with one hand extended.
"Of course. You're my brother's right hand, after all." She handed me a folded slip.
"Thank you, my lady." I scanned the names quickly, burning them in memory before handing them back.
"Huh? You're not keeping it?"
"I'd leave such matters to you, my lady," I said, smiling faintly.
"Hehe, I love you, Candy. You're the best." She beamed at me, making my stomach twist in awkwardness.
"Lady Pendragon! We need to leave!" A bodyguard burst in, sweat streaking his face.
"What's wrong?"
"Candy—ma'am—we're surrounded!"
"By whom?"
"Black Ops Shadows."
Dea gritted her teeth and cursed. "The special squad? Fuck! Now what?"
'So they were special,' I thought.
"Candy, you have a plan," Dea demanded, turning to me.
"Uh… yes, but I'm not sure it'll work."
"I'm listening."
"Right." I turned and, in one swift motion, slashed my hand across the bodyguard—splitting him into neat pieces. Blood sprayed the floorboards.
Dea's eyes went wide with horror.
I straightened and let my illusion drop.
"Kitsuna Draig," she hissed, fury igniting as her hand gripped her sword.
"Hehe. Hello," I purred, appearing before her and grabbing her face in one clawed hand.
"You! What did you do to Candy?!" she shouted, struggling.
"Nothing. I don't even know who the fuck Candy is." I shrugged, grinning. "But thanks for being gullible."
"Fuck you! Eeeeh!!" She shrieked as my hand gripped her tail, sending a jolt through her.
"Just shut up and let's go, Miss Shadow," I said. The shadows beneath us swelled, swallowing us whole as we vanished from the room.