At 1:34 PM, the streets of Raerno pulsed with life.
The cobblestone alleys wound through buildings of light stone, their slanted roofs adorned with red tiles and flower-filled balconies.
The air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, unfamiliar spices, and the sweet smoke rising from street vendors' carts.
Every now and then, a group of children darted through the crowd, laughing, while merchants shouted enticing offers, vying for the attention of passersby.
Blake strode ahead with a confident swagger, as if he knew every corner of the city like the back of his hand.
Mirac and Carmen followed a few steps behind.
After a few turns through bustling alleys and lively squares, Blake stopped in front of a cozy-looking inn, nestled between two taller buildings.
A wooden sign, held by sturdy iron chains, swayed gently in the breeze.
On it, a glowing copper pot was depicted, wrapped in stylized flames that seemed to dance.
Next to it, carefully carved, was the inn's name:
"The Blazing Pot"
A stone arch framed the entrance, decorated with blooming vines and a deep red linen curtain shielding it from the light.
"Here we are!" Blake announced, turning to his companions with a beaming smile. "The best inn in Raerno, I guarantee it!"
Carmen observed the inn with a serene expression.
"It does look cozy," she commented, fully convinced by the aroma of food wafting out.
Mirac said nothing, but deep down, he was starting to feel a spark of anticipation.
From the slightly ajar door, lively music and cheerful voices spilled out, accompanied by the rich scent of spices, roasted meats, craft beer, and warm bread.
Blake didn't hesitate. "Come on, let's head inside!"
With a theatrical push, he swung open the oak door, inviting his mercenary friends to enter, and a wave of warmth and aromas enveloped them instantly.
The inn's interior was welcoming, a blend of rustic and refined that immediately caught the eye of newcomers.
Rough-hewn walls were adorned with hunting trophies, old shields, and faded maps of distant, perhaps imaginary, lands.
To the right, a crackling fireplace emitted a gentle warmth, casting dancing reflections on the worn but polished dark wood floor, a testament to the passage of countless patrons.
Solid wooden tables, some round, others rectangular, were arranged in an orderly yet casual manner, occupied by all sorts of patrons: scarred Mercenaries with weapons resting nearby, merchants heatedly discussing business, and the occasional lone traveler sipping beer in a corner.
Above them, wrought-iron lamps hung from the ceiling beams, casting a soft amber glow that gave the space an intimate feel.
The air was filled with an enveloping aroma: fragrant bread, juicy meat roasted over an open flame, and a faint hint of wild herbs tickling the nose.
'Wow!' Mirac exclaimed inwardly. 'It's exactly how I always imagined it!'
In his previous life, as a young boy, he had devoured dozens of fantasy novels, and nearly every story featured taverns: warm, noisy places brimming with scents, laughter, and secrets, wielding an irresistible charm over readers.
Mirac was no exception, and so he lingered a moment longer, soaking in every detail of the atmosphere before Blake pointed to an empty table.
"Let's sit there!"
Without hesitation, the three settled at the indicated table, next to a window overlooking the bustling street, where passersby, carts, and the occasional rider animated Raerno's afternoon.
On the table, perfectly aligned along its four sides, lay four leather-bound menus, their surfaces slightly cracked with age and corners softened by use.
As soon as they sat, a young woman approached the trio with a warm smile.
She wore a uniform of red and burgundy vertical stripes, typical of the inn's barmaids, with a white apron tied at the waist.
Her brown hair, neatly braided, fell over one shoulder, and her green eyes sparkled with contagious energy.
"Long time no see, Blake!" she exclaimed, her tone betraying a longstanding familiarity. "What's new with you?"
"Hey, Tabita!" Blake laughed, scratching the back of his neck with a slightly awkward gesture. "Not much, actually. I'm here today to celebrate with my new friends. Meet Isaac and Ananya. They're new in town, but they've already become Mercenaries of Rectified Blade rank!"
Tabita paused for a moment, studying the two newcomers carefully.
She didn't ask any personal questions—nothing about how they met or the unusual appearance of the masked boy—since, working in a tavern, she was used to serving all kinds of patrons daily.
Curiosity tugged at her, but she kept it to herself, choosing not to bombard them with questions on their first meeting.
Instead, with a warm smile directed at the trio, she greeted them enthusiastically: "Nice to meet you, and welcome to 'The Blazing Pot'!"
She pulled a notebook from her apron pocket and, pen in hand, asked: "What can I bring you?"
Blake didn't even glance at the menu. "The usual for me: wild boar stew with potatoes and a mug of plum juice."
Tabita laughed, jotting it down with an amused nod. "Got it. And for you two?" she asked, turning her gaze to Mirac and Carmen.
The two exchanged a quick glance before looking down at the leather-bound menus.
Mirac scanned the options quickly, his brow slightly furrowed as he considered. 'Let's see…'
He didn't want to burden Blake's wallet too much but also didn't want to settle for the usual meat-and-potatoes dish.
He sought a balance between quality and price, and finally, his eyes landed on an intriguing item:
"I'll have the steamed trout fillet with a side of rosemary flatbread," he ordered, his tone measured.
Carmen, after flipping through a couple more pages of the menu, looked up at Tabita. "I'll take the spiced vegetable soup."
"Great choices!" Tabita said, scribbling quickly in her notebook.
Then, she gathered the four menus and headed toward the kitchen, her braid swaying with each step, her light gait blending into the warm, steady hum of the inn.
As soon as they were alone, Blake stood, flashing a smile. "I'm gonna wash my hands, be right back!"
With that, he disappeared down a side corridor, leaving Mirac and Carmen at the table.
Finally alone, Carmen leaned slightly toward Mirac, lowering her voice:
"What do you think of Jun and his proposal?" she asked, her eyes studying the masked boy with her usual intensity.
Mirac leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. "He's clever," he replied, his voice low but firm. "He promoted us to Rectified Blade to ensure we were qualified for the upcoming Raid."
Carmen nodded, her lips pressed into a thoughtful line. "I agree. But as much as he tried to hide it, I think there's another reason behind the decisions he made today…"
She paused, letting her words linger, then lowered her voice further. "Did you notice how he insisted on telling us about Thalor Island? Specifically, about that sudden transformation that turned the Boss into a demonic hybrid… It wasn't a necessary detail for his explanation. He could've just said he was injured in battle by a Corrupted Mana attack from a magical beast, which cost him the ability to use his Mana Core. Instead, he chose to describe the entire mission in meticulous detail, emphasizing that 'sudden' transformation…"
Mirac tilted his head slightly, the edge of his mask catching a glint of sunlight.
"I've been thinking about that too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That transformation… a Varkhul suddenly turning into a demonic hybrid? Without external intervention, it's completely impossible for that to happen. The President knows this, and I'd bet he mentioned the transformation deliberately to drop that detail as a clue. Most likely, he wanted to hint that the Varkhul's transformation and the mysterious reappearance of the Rogthars are somehow connected…"
Carmen narrowed her eyes, a spark of insight flashing in her gaze.
"Exactly. He didn't say it outright, but the way he described the transformation, and then the Rogthars… it was like he was pushing us to put two and two together. As you said, the President probably suspects that the same force that transformed that Varkhul is behind the Rogthars' return. And if that's true, that Dungeon could be far more dangerous than he's letting on!"
After a brief pause, Carmen continued:
"So, the upcoming Raid at the Rogthars' cave… it's undoubtedly an opportunity for us to investigate and figure out how those demonic beasts reappeared after a thousand years. But on the other hand, it's also a huge risk! We don't know what awaits us in that Dungeon, and the idea of diving in blind doesn't sit well with me. That's why I decided not to accept the President's invitation right away and to wait for the scouting team's report first. Only then will we decide how to proceed: whether to join the primary suppression team, operate in the rear with the defense unit, or support the secondary suppression team. But if the Dungeon turns out to be too dangerous, my plan was already to join the gathering and transport team, which steps in at the end of the Raid."
Mirac nodded in approval. "Yeah, good idea. The Mercenary license from the Association gives us unique flexibility: we can freely choose which team to join, as long as there are open spots, we meet the requirements, and the Guild in charge of clearing the Dungeon accepts us and officially assigns us to that team. However, this freedom comes with a downside: since we're not full Guild members, our pay will be lower than that of the Adventurers officially employed for the mission. But for us, money isn't the top priority, so, as you said, the best thing to do is wait and decide carefully which team to join."
Carmen fixed her gaze on him for a moment, then a faint smile curved her lips. "Good. Then it's settled!"
At that moment, Blake returned, rubbing his hands with a satisfied air. "Here I am!" he exclaimed, sitting down with a wide grin.
Shortly after, Mirac stood and headed to the bathroom. A moment later, Carmen followed, going to the women's restroom.
After washing their hands, they returned to the table in the same order they'd left, and they began chatting, letting the conversation flow aimlessly.
Blake dominated the discussion, sharing anecdotes about his adventures in the city and the quirks of some local merchants:
"You know, one time, while I was crossing a deserted street at sunset, I ran into this really weird hooded guy… Straight up, he told me he could predict my future! So, being curious, I paid him with everything I had in my wallet at the time. Then he sat down, closed his eyes, and after meditating for about a minute, he told me that one day I'd face a Giant!" Blake laughed, shaking his head. "And that was it, he didn't say anything else! He vanished right after, and I haven't seen him since! But honestly… I still feel like I got scammed that day…"
'You think so?' Mirac thought, holding back a sigh or the urge to rub his temples.
He occasionally responded with brief, ironic comments, while Carmen offered only nods or monosyllables, her gaze often drifting elsewhere, as if searching for someone in the crowd…
A few minutes later, Tabita returned with their dishes.
Blake's wild boar stew was a steaming dish, brimming with juicy chunks of meat, carrots, onions, and a dark, herb-infused gravy with a hint of black pepper. Next to it, a mug of plum juice completed his meal, the dark liquid reflecting the inn's amber light.
Mirac's steamed trout fillet rested on a bed of fresh lettuce, garnished with thin lemon slices and paired with fragrant rosemary flatbread, its golden crust lightly slick with oil.
In front of Carmen was a bowl brimming with spiced vegetable soup: a vibrant medley of potatoes, beans, zucchini, and tomatoes swimming in an amber broth, enriched with aromatic herbs and a touch of chili.
The dishes were simple but well-prepared, and their inviting aroma made all three of their mouths water.
"Enjoy your meal!" Tabita said, setting down the last dish with a smile before walking away.
"B… Bon appétit!" Blake echoed, then dove into his plate.
As always, Mirac slightly lifted his scarred black mask, just enough to get the fork to his mouth.
Then, he and Carmen began eating slowly, savoring each bite.
Soon, though—without showing it—they both felt the urge to devour their meals with the same enthusiasm as the tall, thin boy.
'This is so good!' the two Mercenaries thought, almost in unison.
As they ate, the conversation grew lighter.
Between bites of his wild boar stew, Blake continued to entertain Mirac and Carmen with exaggerated tales of his adventures, gesturing enthusiastically and making his mug of plum juice clink on the table.
Mirac, despite his reserved demeanor, let out a few muffled laughs.
Carmen, meanwhile, listened with a subtle smile, savoring her spiced soup, the chili's warmth pleasantly tingling her tongue.
Mirac's trout fillet was cooked to perfection, tender and juicy, with the rosemary flatbread crumbling slightly under his teeth, leaving an aromatic aftertaste that made him sigh in satisfaction.
Every now and then, the three paused to comment on the food, praising the kitchen's skill in turning simple ingredients into unforgettable flavors.
About seventeen minutes later, they finished their dishes almost simultaneously, leaving empty plates with only a few crumbs of bread or flatbread on the table.
Blake leaned back with a satisfied sigh, rubbing his full stomach. "So, what do you think?" he asked, with a self-satisfied grin.
Mirac nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I've got to admit, not bad," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of irony. "You really do eat well here."
Carmen confirmed with a nod, and Blake, seeing their approval, chuckled proudly: "Heh, no surprise there… it's Raerno's best inn for a reason!"
A few seconds later, Tabita returned to clear the table, complimenting them for "wiping their plates clean."
"Anything else? Maybe some dessert?" she suggested with her usual infectious smile.
Blake raised a hand as if to decline but then reconsidered.
"You know what? Three slices of apple and cinnamon pie, one for each of us, thanks!" he said, glancing at his companions for confirmation.
Mirac and Carmen nodded in unison, unable to resist the prospect of dessert.
Tabita nodded, jotting down the order in her notebook before disappearing toward the kitchen.
Soon after, she returned with three steaming slices of pie, their golden crusts dusted with sugar and the aroma of apples and cinnamon wafting through the air.
The three savored it slowly, enjoying the contrast between the fruit's sweetness and the spicy kick of cinnamon.
When Blake swept up the last crumb of his dessert, he stood with a smile. "While you guys finish, I'll go settle the bill," he said, heading toward the counter.
Taking advantage of his absence, Carmen turned to Mirac, lowering her voice again:
"This afternoon, I'll head back to Blake's house to grab the sack of Rogthar organs and sell them at the spots he mentioned yesterday. In the meantime, you could explore the city, check out the districts and markets… And who knows, maybe you'll stumble upon one of those 'Fortuitous Knowledge' you told me about yesterday. If you happen to get a vision tied to some unsolved mystery, it'd be a golden opportunity: our organization thrives on uncovering and neutralizing what lurks in the shadows…"
Mirac kept his gaze fixed on Carmen, his face hidden by the mask, but his mind raced, recalling their conversation from the previous night.
Mirac had invented the story of "Fortuitous Knowledge" to conceal the true nature of his powers, which provided various types of information—abilities grouped under the name "Instant Knowledge."
These abilities were far from mystical or prophetic, merely revealing concrete details like the exact dimensions of an object, the precise number of elements in a scene, or a person's weight or height.
Useful details, sure, but far from visions of dark secrets or hidden conspiracies!
The ruse of disguising them as another power was solely to prevent Carmen from discovering the identity of the entity he was in Syntony with: Math!
But now, after Carmen's suggestion, Mirac couldn't help but wonder if his lie had been too convincing.
After all, it seemed the red-haired woman had completely misunderstood the scope of the "power" behind his "Fortuitous Knowledge." She likely believed his visions could reveal both trivial details and, with the right trigger, the world's greatest mysteries.
Or, Mirac thought, perhaps Carmen hadn't misunderstood at all…
Knowing the redhead's cunning, he realized her suggestion to explore the city might not be random but a subtle test—a way to probe the true nature of the entity he was in Syntony with and gauge, at the same time, how useful his so-called "Fortuitous Knowledge" could really be.
'Oh, Carmen… so you really think the entity I'm in Syntony with is omniscient and can feed me secrets about the world?' Mirac, of course, didn't voice any of this.
Instead, he nodded slowly, his tone steady despite the inner turmoil. "Alright," he said, accepting Carmen's proposal, letting his response sound like a commitment while a plan took shape in his mind. 'If Carmen expects me to come back with some mystery or shady deal to report, then maybe finding one—even by pure chance—wouldn't be a bad idea. It's not the top priority, sure, but presenting something intriguing enough to satisfy her curiosity down the line would definitely reinforce and protect the image of my "Fortuitous Knowledge"…'
It was an effort he was willing to make to safeguard his Syntony with Math!
Because no one, not even Carmen, could ever be allowed to learn of the entity that fused Math and Magic…
* * *
When Mirac and Carmen finished hashing out the final details of their afternoon plan, they also swallowed the last spoonful of their dessert.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Mirac lowered his mask again, sliding it down to fully cover his face.
A few moments later, Blake returned to the table with his usual dazzling smile.
"All done!" he announced triumphantly, holding up the receipt like a trophy. "We can head out now."
Without wasting time, the two stood and left the inn with Blake, greeted once more by the warm sunlight filtering through Raerno's red slate rooftops.
Once outside, Carmen paused at the edge of the street and turned to Blake with a casual but measured tone.
"You know, Blake, I was thinking of heading back to your place to grab the sack of Rogthar organs. I want to sell them at the spots you mentioned yesterday to make some coin and settle our debt with you."
Mirac, following the script, stepped forward. "Want me to come with you?"
Carmen shook her head, the gesture quick and natural. "No need, Isaac. The house is far, and the selling points are pretty spread out. It'll take me a while for sure. So instead of wasting your afternoon, why not take the chance to explore the city? Getting familiar with Raerno could come in handy sooner or later."
Blake, as expected, took the bait. "Hey, great idea! Isaac, leave it to me—I'll be your guide! I know this city like the back of my hand. I'll take you to the coolest spots, you'll see!"
Mirac held back a smile under his mask, exchanging a fleeting glance with Carmen.
"Alright, sounds good to me," he replied, keeping his tone calm but with a note of genuine interest. "Thanks."
"No problem!" Blake exclaimed. "Oh, by the way!"
He paused for a moment and, with a quick gesture, unhooked a set of keys attached to a carabiner dangling from his belt.
"Here, Ananya, these are the house keys. The back door's a bit tricky, so use the big one and go through the main entrance. Give it a firm push, but don't break the door down, alright?" Blake explained, handing her the keys with an ironic smile.
'Are you seriously handing your house keys to two complete strangers?' Mirac thought, exhaling lightly as he tried to figure out if Blake was just overly kind or excessively naive.
Carmen took the keys, slipping them casually into her pants pocket. "Thanks, Blake."
Then, with a final nod, the red-haired woman walked off down the street.
But after just a few steps, she stopped.
She stood still for a moment before turning slightly, just enough to catch them in her peripheral vision.
"Be careful, and don't stay out too late, alright…?" she said in a calm voice, but with a subtle note of genuine concern.
Then, she resumed walking and vanished into the city's crowd.
At Carmen's parting words, Mirac furrowed his brow.
He couldn't tell if they were a real warning, a premonition… or just one of those generic things paranoid mothers say to their kids before leaving them alone.
'Same as always…'
In the end, he shrugged it off, dismissing the thought.
Blake didn't even notice and, as soon as Carmen was gone, clapped a hand on Mirac's shoulder, brimming with enthusiasm. "Come on, Isaac! Let's get moving!"
And so, the group split up: Carmen heading toward the Adson house, and Mirac ready to explore the city under Blake's exuberant guidance, while a silent plan took shape in the folds of their thoughts.
But at that very moment, as the group dispersed down two different paths, someone hooded in the crowd was watching them intently…