Chapter 34. Information Broker, Pale
Verden headed straight for Cohen.
Since there was no party he had to travel with, he raised his speed to the maximum without hesitation. Maintaining flight for several hours was quite a tiring ordeal, but it allowed him to cut down travel time considerably.
Rather than hiring people to camp comfortably, he judged it better to reach the city as soon as possible and shake off the fatigue of travel.
And so, about three days passed.
He washed himself with water created from magic power, and sustained himself with jerky and water. Finally, the sight of the city began to appear before him.
After a brief inspection, he entered the city.
'Bigger than Martes.'
Cohen was a kind of industrial city, focused particularly on manufacturing.
Producing necessities was repetitive and not overly complicated work. It wasn't something that earned great income, but at the same time there was almost no risk of danger.
It was only natural that people seeking stable jobs, safe from demi-humans or bandit raids, would gather here.
But the wealth gap was the same.
Because of the flood of incoming people, Cohen's slums were broader and harsher than any other city in the principality.
Good housing was limited, so those who lost out in the competition gathered to form slums. With the population far outstripping the security forces, it was a perfect place for someone to hide.
Verden needed to find a place there called "Pale Arrowhead."
'First, I should settle down. I also have business at the workshop.'
He walked through Cohen's bleak streets and entered the inn that looked the most decent.
"Welcome—oh…."
The clerk's eyes widened.
His attire befitted a mage, and his mysterious appearance stood out. Not an ordinary guest. Before the blinking clerk could react, the innkeeper quickly rushed over to attend him.
"Welcome to the Honeybee's Rest. I am the owner, Fabre. If you wish, I can assist you with guidance. What do you think?"
Verden glanced around.
The faintly sweet fragrance in the air, the bright-colored interior. The customers drinking in the dining hall looked far more lively than the people walking the streets outside.
There was no need to search for another inn.
"Do you have a vacant room on the top floor?"
"Of course. That's our suite, the only room among the city's inns where you can enjoy Cohen's panoramic view. Furthermore, it has a magic elevator, so moving around is no inconvenience. The rate is 40,000 Elk per night, or 53,000 Elk including three freshly cooked meals daily."
"I'll rent the suite for two weeks. Leave the meals in front of my door."
A rare big-spending guest in Cohen. The sound of sales skyrocketing could almost be heard.
When Verden handed over a card, Fabre bent low and received it with both hands.
"I'll escort you right away."
***
There was still time before nightfall.
Verden took Mahbat's leather and the Rusty ring, and headed toward the street where the workshops were. Though unfamiliar with the city, the innkeeper kindly explained and even gave him a map.
Before long, he saw the first smithy.
Clang! Clang!
The blacksmiths moved busily, hammering at iron. They looked so busy that even placing an order would be difficult. If he left something there, the quality aside, his turn might be delayed by more than a month.
So he passed by the smithy bustling with customers.
"...Hm?"
A smithy tucked into a corner.
A bearded middle-aged man sat in a chair, nodding off, looking rather idle. As Verden drew closer, he carefully examined the swords and armor displayed outside.
'Looks decent enough.'
Not being an expert he couldn't be sure, but at a glance it didn't fall behind compared to other smithies.
Why there were no customers was puzzling.
At that moment, the blacksmith's head jerked down.
"Ah, damn, my neck…."
He rubbed his neck lightly and stretched, then locked eyes with Verden.
"Well, well, a customer. Ahem, so, what are you looking for?"
"I came to place a custom order."
The blacksmith furrowed his brow.
"Are you from a guild? Sorry, but try another smithy. I don't make mass-production stuff. If you want iron utensils or practice swords, the smithy over there does that well. So, good day."
Folding his arms, he closed his eyes again.
It seemed there was a misunderstanding. Without another word, Verden untied the bundle he carried. At the rustling sound, the blacksmith opened his eyes, and saw the hide shimmering with a deep green hue.
What's this… he thought blankly, then his eyes widened.
"Huh? Mahbat?"
He snatched the leather immediately.
The coarse texture under his fingertips, the scent of the wild. By all measures, it was genuine.
Verden spoke.
"I intend to have it made into an upper and lower set. Is it possible?"
"Of course it is!"
The blacksmith answered without hesitation, then set the leather down and cleared his throat.
"My apologies. I failed to recognize a proper customer. Around here, a custom order usually means mass-production work, so I misunderstood. Please forgive that."
He spread the leather out on an empty desk.
After a light inspection, he stroked his chin.
"If I make the top into a vest, it'll be a close call… can I make it thinner?"
"As long as it serves its role as armor, that's fine. For the rest, refer to this."
Verden handed him a note with directions for the design.
After a quick read, the blacksmith nodded.
"I see how I should make it. But because of the leather's nature, it'll take quite a bit of work, so the cost will be high. Is that all right?"
"Would it be fine if I pay in advance?"
"No need. When I take money first, my motivation tends to drop. And looking at your face, you don't seem like a con man. I have all the necessary materials, so about six days should do. Anything else you need?"
"There's one more thing."
Verden brought out the Rusty Ring.
The blacksmith pulled out a special magnifier and examined it closely.
"Hm, looks easily over thirty years old. Where did you even find such an antique?"
"Is restoration possible?"
"That's an easy job. I'll do it as a service, so I'll have it ready by the time you return."
"Thank you."
"I should be the one thanking you. Thanks to you, I get to do proper blacksmith work again after a long while. Now then, take care."
With that, his business at the smithy was finished.
Now the only task left was to find Pale Arrowhead in the slums. Since it wasn't hidden, he could probably find it by asking locals.
As the blacksmith was seeing him off, Verden turned and asked,
"By any chance, do you know where the place called Pale Arrowhead is?"
***
The slums of Cohen.
Unlike the center, here stood old, shabby houses in abundance. The further in he went, the darker the atmosphere grew, and wary gazes could be felt from all directions, suspicious of the stranger.
'At least there's no stench.'
Surprisingly clean for its size. Of course, only for a slum.
Compared to other cities he had visited, it was still overwhelmingly poor.
Verden stopped before one building.
A shop with a sign that read "Pale Arrowhead."
Through the window, he saw various bows and arrows on display.
'So this is where the information broker is.'
On the outside, it looked ordinary. Since Galliark said he would give a heads-up, perhaps he only needed to go in.
Gripping the handle, he opened the door, and a small chime rang softly. An old man with round spectacles, a pipe in his mouth, spoke without lifting his eyes from the newspaper.
"We're not taking custom orders right now, so pick from what's here. Prices are written below."
"I've come for another matter."
"Another matter?"
Only then did the old man raise his head.
After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke again.
"Gray hair, blue eyes… just to confirm, your name?"
"My name is Asher."
"Asher, just as I heard."
The old man pointed toward the inner door.
"Go through there and head down to the basement, someone will guide you. Since you have the Butcher's credit, I'll skip the procedures… but it's best not to think about causing trouble. Unless you want both sides to end up tired."
A small warning from the old man.
Verden nodded, and stepped deeper into the building. Taking the staircase in the corner down, an old warehouse came into view.
After a short wait, someone emerged from the darkness. A man wrapped head to toe in bandages, wearing old cloth over them.
"This. Way. Please. Come. Asher. Sir."
A cracked, rasping voice.
Without a word, Verden followed behind. At the same time, he quietly drew magic power together and sharpened his senses. Just in case something happened.
In a place where no trust had yet been built, keeping minimum vigilance was only natural.
When the bandaged man placed his hand on the wall, a clicking sound rang out, and a hidden passage opened.
No magical reaction was felt, so it seemed mechanical. Following him deeper down, a corridor appeared.
He walked the length of that passage, and soon a wide space opened before him.
'…A tavern?'
A bartender polishing cups behind the counter. Customers sipping drinks at their tables. Verden quickly observed their attire.
'One mage, two swordsmen, one archer, and one unconfirmed.'
Were they guards of this place, or people here to take requests like himself? Judging from the atmosphere, they were no ordinary folk.
Whatever the case, this was clearly the Gray that Galliark had spoken of. The bandaged man pointed at the door at the end.
"Guide. Ends. Here. From now. Please. Go. Down. This. Way."
The bandaged man gave a bow, then disappeared the way he had come.
Watching his retreating back for a moment, Verden soon placed his hand on the door.
Creeeak.
The rusted door let out a small shriek.
What lay beyond was a strange scene—iron bars and glass enclosing the room, and a single chair in the center. Then, footsteps approached from the opposite side of the glass.
"Pleased to meet you, Sir Asher. I am Pale, the information broker of the southern Gray of the Duchy of Riviant."
A body so gaunt his cheekbones jutted out, yet his voice carried strength.
"I am Asher."
"Yes, I heard through the contact from Lord Galliark. And as I was told, you do indeed have a striking appearance. Thanks to that, you were not difficult to find.
Pale gestured to the chair.
"Please, take a seat. And it would be appreciated if you speak comfortably."
"…Very well."
"Good."
Verden sat down.
Pale picked up a sheet of paper.
"In the Pythe territory, you subjugated a demi-human who killed a former adventurer turned thief and a Gold-rank adventurer. On the road to Martes, you saved adventurers and fought assassins in the city. Lastly, in the Viron Territory, together with the Butcher, you subjugated the Undead known as the Wailing Knight. A brilliant record in such a short time."
"You investigated me?"
"It was necessary. As an information broker, I am sensitive to rumors. Now then, let me ask first. For what purpose have you come to us? A request, or information?"
Verden replied.
"I need both."
"Both, hmm. Since you have achievements, I can connect you with requests, but high-paying jobs and information are restricted according to the ranks we classify."
"Ranks?"
"The value of information always carries responsibility. If we, blinded by money, sell information to just anyone, the consequences inevitably fall upon the broker as well. Like the information dealer in the past who sold to one noble during a dispute, only to vanish without a trace afterward. Requests follow the same principle."
Pale interlaced his fingers.
"Know your place. That is the phrase one must never forget to survive as an information broker of Gray. There are absolutely no exceptions to these ranks. That is the law of this underworld."
His voice was so firm, it felt as if even a blade at his throat would not change his mind.
Of course, Verden had no thought of making such threats in the first place.
"How can I raise my rank?"
"Simply put, the most important things are strength and credit. No matter how trustworthy you are, if you are weak, information can be stolen from you. And no matter how strong you are, without trust, who knows what will happen."
"Strength and credit…"
'Not something I can resolve right away.'
The Breath of Element, the mana crystal, and so on.
The information he needed to use the treasures of the magic tower would surely be in the higher ranks. He didn't even need to ask to be certain.
But there was no real problem. Ranks aside, at present he didn't have the money to buy such information, nor the situation to use it.
He only needed to raise his rank while preparing at the same time. For that, he would need to take on Pale's requests.
"Can I choose the request?"
"We narrow down several candidates and then offer you the choice. But before taking on a request, please fill out this survey first."
Pale slid a sheet of paper and pen through beneath the glass.
Drawing them in with Telekinesis, Verden examined the contents. Do you have qualms about killing, can you commit minor illegal acts, and so on. Questions about his tendencies.
'So this is how they select requests suited for me.'
He quickly filled it out and handed it back.
Pale read silently, then nodded.
"You lean more toward an adventurer's disposition than a mercenary's. Fortunately, that fits us well. And just in time, there is a request well suited for you."
Snap.
Pale flicked his fingers, and a file flew over from the back.
There was no trace of magic, yet Verden's senses couldn't detect the slightest presence.
Pale received the file as if nothing unusual, then opened it to a marked section.
"This request is not so different from what you've done before. Subjugating a creature that harms humans, very straightforward. I think this would be sufficient to prove yourself, Sir Asher."
"A subjugation of demi-humans?"
"Requests against demi-humans do come in, but this time, no."
Carefully, Pale drew out a sheet of paper from the file.
Then he flipped it over to show Verden. On the top, in large letters, was written the word "Magical Beast."
"Roar Wolf. A magical beast hiding in Count Ladran's territory, the task is to subjugate it."