Chapter 44. Con Merchant Guild (2)
Condor treated Verden with the utmost hospitality.
Since it was a thriving merchant guild, there were many snacks that one could hardly obtain elsewhere, even good enough to be served in the magic tower.
'But he talks too much.'
Condor chattered endlessly in front of him.
Though less than Conrad, it was still too much for Verden to bear. He partially blocked his hearing with magic power and focused on the sweets and tea.
When Condor finally stopped talking, Verden struck first.
"Where can I obtain magic items?"
"Magic items? Ah, you mean magic tools!"
In modern times, they were called magic items. In old terms, magic tools.
Stubborn mages of the magic tower all insisted on the latter. They said the term "magic item" lacked refinement or dignity.
Verden didn't really care about the terminology, so it didn't matter to him.
But for the merchant Condor, it was different.
Learning habits and details about the other person through conversation was a habit ingrained in him, a way to turn negotiations to his advantage.
'Not from the academy.'
But he couldn't be from the magic tower either. Far too young to have gone independent.
Most likely, just speculation, but perhaps he had learned from a renowned mage who retired in some small village.
A mage with looks like that and such promising talent, if he had lived in a city, rumors would have spread for sure.
Condor smiled and spoke.
"Here in Briente, not only nobles but also adventurers frequent the place. Many pieces of equipment and accessories line the shops. Are you planning to buy something?"
"I intend to commission one."
"Commission work… Well, there is one craftsman perfect for that. But, he has a bit of a flaw…"
"A flaw?"
"His name is Mort. In terms of skill, no one in this area can match him, but he's a drunkard and a gambling addict drowning in debt. Even though he's a craftsman of good repute, banks refuse to lend to him. Recently, loan sharks have started sniffing around."
He would introduce someone like that…?
Verden shot him a suspicious look, but Condor quickly waved his hands.
"You don't need to worry so much! He has always finished his commissions on time. And the quality, needless to say, is top-notch. If anything goes wrong, we'll take responsibility and get you the magic item you want. Please, trust us just once."
If he said that much, there was no reason not to go.
Verden nodded.
***
Verden immediately headed for the address Condor had given him.
Since it was a one-man workshop, it was located in a relatively quiet area. Because of that, the atmosphere of the street grew ever more still, until at last, he arrived in front of a shabby building.
Knock, knock.
He knocked on the door, but there was no response.
However, through mana detection, he clearly saw a man lying in the bedroom. With telekinesis, he tapped at the old lock until the door creaked open.
"..."
The workshop was a complete mess.
Hides of magical beasts that needed careful handling were strewn about, and all sorts of items were left abandoned under layers of dust.
'This is a craftsman?'
Any will to commission work vanished in an instant, but he held back and walked toward the room.
A middle-aged man, Mort, was sprawled on the floor, snoring loudly, reeking of alcohol. Only after being lightly kicked a few times did he stir.
Rubbing his eyes, Mort looked up at Verden and flinched in surprise.
"Wh-who are you?!"
"Are you Mort? I came to commission work."
"Oh… a customer? I thought you were debt collectors. Yaaawn, I'm sleepy now, so come back later with your order. Don't forget to bring a bottle of booze too."
Mort crawled back into bed and buried himself under the blanket.
What should he do? Rip off the blanket, or come back later? Verden was still debating when he sensed people outside.
"Huh, the door's open for once?"
"He didn't run off to the gambling den again, did he?"
Rough-looking men stepped one by one into the workshop. When they spotted Verden, a big scarred man, Bedin, swaggered forward.
"Hey there, ash-gray hair. What's your business here?"
"I came to commission work."
"A customer, eh? Sorry, but we're busy right now. That gambling bastard owes us. Hey, Mort! Stop pretending to sleep and get up!"
Mort flinched and cracked an eye open.
All eyes fell on him. Awkwardly scratching his head, Mort got to his feet.
"…It's time to pay up already?"
"Time to pay? It's long past, with interest piled on."
"But I don't have any money right now."
"No money, so that's the end? You either work it off right now, or get beaten to hell and back. Eight million Elk ain't some mutt's name, you know."
Bedin cracked his knuckles and growled, and Mort shrank back, scuttling into a corner.
Watching the scene, Verden pulled a wad of cash from his coat and tossed it onto the bed.
"…What's this?"
"Eight million Elk. I'll pay it back instead."
He had expected the commission cost to be around forty-five million Elk anyway.
It was money meant for Mort, so covering his debt and deducting it later was no issue.
Bedin reached for the stack of bills, but suddenly scowled and threw it aside.
Hundreds of notes scattered through the air.
"You little shit, acting cocky. You think I'm easy because I deal in loans? Think money solves everything? I'm in a foul mood already. Hey, drag this bastard out."
At Bedin's order, his underlings closed in on Verden.
In that instant, wooden splinters, sharp glass shards, and banknotes all rose into the air, aiming at their throats, drifting ever closer.
"Ma, magic?"
"Shit, why the hell's there a mage here…?!"
The loan sharks broke into cold sweat and backed away.
"…Step aside."
Bedin shoved his men aside and stepped forward.
With a grim face, he strode closer, as if he had some hidden card. His men looked at him with awe as he moved.
The floating shards all trained on Bedin, but still, he didn't falter, walking right up to Verden.
They faced each other, silence stretching.
And then, finally, the man moved.
Thud.
"Please spare me."
"…?"
***
In the past, Briente had not been the lively city it was now.
Before the duchy gained independence, during the war between the kingdom and the republic, this place had become utterly devastated, and it teemed with criminals of every sort.
It was an environment like the wild, where strength was everything.
Then, one day after the war ended, a mage appeared.
He looked weak. So, as always, they tried to rob and kill him. That was Briente's way. But, they should not have done so.
When they closed their eyes and opened them again, there was one corpse. The next time they blinked, there were ten corpses. And when they slowly opened their eyes again, a sea of blood had been formed.
All who rushed him were dead. Vicious murderers, former mercenaries, even the ruler of the backstreets who had once been a Platinum Rank adventurer.
Every one of them had their bones and flesh torn apart.
The man, Bedin, could do nothing but collapse and tremble.
The mage glanced at him, then simply walked past, as though he wasn't even worth killing. Behind him, more screams echoed.
Why did the world fear mad mages?
It was obvious. With appearances that seemed not strong at all, with no weapons in hand, they could kill more easily than anyone.
Bedin swore then.
Never again would he associate with mages. If anything involved a mage, he would never meddle.
And yet now, before his eyes.
The appearance was different, but the atmosphere was the same as that mad mage he had once seen.
'Hesitate even a little, and I'll die.'
Instinct.
So he fell to his knees.
"Please spare me."
"…?"
"I didn't know you were a mage. I beg you, forgive me just this once. I swear I'll never appear before you again, please…!"
Verden blinked at the sight of the man bowing his head, rubbing his hands together.
'I haven't even started yet.'
No matter if the opponent was a mage, he hadn't expected such submission… He hadn't intended to start a conflict anyway, but even the will to threaten him vanished. After all, Bedin hadn't truly wronged Verden.
Gathering his magic power back, Verden asked him.
"Is there someone above you?"
"Y-yes! There is! Our big boss, he's the one in charge of everything we do."
"Then guide me to him."
"…What?"
***
Nis, the man running loan sharking in Briente.
Because his work skirted the line between illegal and legal, he was always busy greasing palms here and there.
"Damn it. That Guard Captain, how much does that fat bastard have to eat to be satisfied, huh."
What good was lending money and collecting interest, if all it did was fill another man's belly.
Still, he had to endure it. Soon, a huge sum of money would come in, and he would be able to leave this life behind. Goodbye to this wretched business once and for all.
'Yes. Until then, endure. Endure.'
With a sigh, Nis entered the establishment.
But the atmosphere was strange.
All his men wore stiff expressions. One of them, face grim, approached him.
"B-boss. Brother Bedin asks that you come quickly to the room."
"…Suddenly? For what? And why do the faces of those who went for collection look so grim? Did you idiots cause trouble?"
"I-I… I don't…"
The subordinate averted his eyes.
Suspicious, Nis nevertheless climbed the stairs. Opening the door, he saw a man he had never seen before sitting there, and Bedin, standing frozen stiff.
'Who is this?'
Ah! Could it be a merchant's son, or a noble's heir?
If so, his subordinates' reactions were understandable.
'As expected, I really am good at business. Maybe this will make me rich after all.'
Straightening his posture, Nis approached Verden with a smile.
At that moment, Bedin came forward.
"Boss."
"Hey, if an honored guest has arrived, you should have contacted me sooner—"
"He says, you should kneel."
…?
Nis stared at Bedin's face.
It was stiff, and he was sweating cold. This wasn't a joke. Looking back and forth between Verden and Bedin, Nis whispered.
"He's not some noble's heir or merchant's son… is he?"
Bedin shook his head.
Then, a cup of water from the desk floated into Nis's hand. At last, he realized. The gray-haired man was a mage.
And it seemed there had already been a clash with his men.
'A mage? So what.'
Nis downed the water in a single gulp and strode forward, bold and unflinching.
He was bolder than Bedin, quicker-witted, and skilled in survival.
Thud.
"Speak, Mage."
A stranger mage was always dangerous.
Better to kneel once, than to end up dead testing his patience.