Chapter 291 - Embark (1)
What Verden demanded from the back-alley factions was information.
The price varied depending on its quality, but handing over hard cash instead of some vague goods was a reward that couldn't be refused.
Especially in times as difficult as now.
The first to receive money was a thief, Tif.
He mentioned information regarding the carriage raid that targeted Padreld, and instantly became the center of attention.
And when he promised to bring back the full details, he received word from Verden that depending on its importance, he would be paid several times the reward.
It was both a demonstration to motivate others, and a promise was a promise.
Tif gathered multiple pieces of information, and also set to work on that incident.
But progress was slower than expected.
He was skilled at theft, but he knew little of the smuggling underworld.
So he sought a collaborator.
───You, work with me.
───Eh? Me?
That collaborator was Padreld himself.
Within the territory, there was no one with more knowledge and experience in the matter. Though some old grudges lingered, it didn't matter.
When a performance-based bonus was on the line, who would care about that?
Thus the two clasped hands and began cooperating.
First, the clue Padreld held.
When passing through the Smuggler's Canyon on their way into the Midros Territory, Padreld, who was riding the carriage with Verden, was ambushed on the road.
The raid had been arranged by smugglers, who hired former mercenaries and criminals.
Only thanks to Verden were they able to not only handle the ambush without a single loss, but also annihilate the enemy and capture six perpetrators alive.
Immediately after, through interrogation, they discovered that one of the smugglers who ordered the attack was named Homens.
And then the clue Tif held.
Recently, smugglers had been fighting each other over money.
The reason was that in regions outside this city, within the territory, goods were being sold for exorbitant prices.
Not just weapons, potions, and magic items, but even tobacco, whose distribution was permitted only in the Central Continent, was being traded in the shadows.
───This… if we put it together, something might come out.
───I was thinking the same.
With a flash of insight, the two moved swiftly.
Padreld tracked down the hiding Homens.
───Did you think you couldn't be found if you holed yourself up inside a building? Before you're skinned alive, you'd best answer my questions sincerely.
───I, I'll talk! I'll talk! It's my fault, just spare my life!
Tif, meanwhile, inquired around villages and towns outside the city.
The demi-humans who came to attack were subjugated using privately hired adventurers. Though costly, it wasn't wasteful, since he was reimbursed with expenses.
As a result, he found three individuals who matched the conditions.
All were merchants hoping to purchase tobacco.
He judged that through dealings with them, something might be uncovered.
Because at this point, there was reason to suspect that the one who had slaughtered the underclass—including the Rats—might be addicted to tobacco.
That was the reason Verden summoned the two.
The basement of the mansion within the territory.
Padreld and Tif pointed at a map as they explained.
"Currently these three are active in the north, southeast, and northeast of the territory, respectively. Not only tobacco, but they've also placed bounties for Faver. And the two I mentioned earlier are the ones who hired others to attack me."
Information obtained from Aldamia's Clowns.
It was presumed that the hostile force against the magic tower was located to the east or south.
'So we exclude the north.'
The remaining candidates were two.
Verden spoke.
"The southeast and the northeast. Which one is larger in scale?"
"The northeast is larger."
"And the costs for tobacco and Faver?"
"Likewise, the one in the northeast is buying at a higher price. His name is 'Big Hand, Jerik.' Never heard of him before, but while I was away in the Estiria Kingdom, he seems to have gained fame through smuggling on a considerable scale."
"Well, whether he's called Big Hand or whatever, in this world, making a name for yourself is easy as long as you've got money."
Tif added his words.
Verden stroked his chin, piecing together the clues.
'The hostile force against the Bohemirn Magic Tower is closely tied with the territorial lord and the two magic towers.'
Whether it was cooperation or hierarchy.
So long as the towers were involved, money wouldn't be a concern.
As long as they weren't deemed useless and discarded along the way, they could live in abundance.
'If necessary, they could even procure tobacco.'
By that logic, the strongest candidate was the northeast.
It wasn't certainty, but the likelihood that they were linked to a third faction was highest.
"The location of this smuggler, Jerik?"
"A village nestled between mountain ranges. With the money he made from smuggling, he practically privatized the area and plays at being a noble."
"I see."
Verden nodded.
Then he asked about the locations of the other smugglers as well, in case Jerik wasn't actually one of their associates.
Thus, the necessary information was secured.
Having judged and decided, next came action.
"I will head northeast. The two of you will head southeast."
"We also… ah, no. Understood."
"…Got it."
Ethan and Rebecca accepted Verden's gaze.
Their pace of movement was different anyway, and dividing was more reasonable.
The decisive factor in their judgment was the fact that Verden had reached the level of the 6th tier or higher.
"But Sir Asher, what if you go to the wrong place? Shouldn't we at least leave behind some record of where each of us is headed after meeting the smugglers, just in case?"
"Yes, at least that much information."
That much was doable.
Verden turned his head.
Padreld and Tif flinched their shoulders.
"Bonuses will be paid after you return. And if it turns out I find what I'm looking for, I'll pay even more than what I originally promised. Enough that you can look forward to it."
"Th, thank you. But…"
Tif pointed at the two of Aldamia's Clowns.
"…are those two the culprits who started the fire in the slums?"
His voice carried killing intent as he said it. It was fury at the burning of the city he lived in.
For a moment, Padreld's eyes twitched, heavy hostility pooling in them as well.
"If you want revenge, I will hand them over to you."
"R, really?!"
It was Verden who captured Aldamia's Clowns.
He was the one who stopped the terror in the northern district, the one who quelled the great fire. There was no room for anyone else to intervene.
"But it would be better not to kill them. Not for my sake, but for yours."
"For us…?"
They tilted their heads, not understanding.
What did their lives have to do with the fate of those madmen?
Verden, as if he had already given his advice, simply walked past Tif and Padreld. Ethan and Rebecca followed behind him.
"Ah, and I'll be taking the Faver. Payment will be made later."
He stopped by Padreld's warehouse and stored away all the black tobacco into subspace.
Soon, the three mages left the city.
***
`The territorial lord was a selfish man.
He was someone who would do anything for his own safety and glory.
Claiming there were no eternal comrades in this world, he cast aside hands he once held and grasped new ones, depending on what benefit he could gain.
Shallow human relationships.
A flimsy art of survival, which he thought he had carefully devised.
Those were the foundations of the territorial lord.
When he accepted the offers from the Magic Tower of the Volcanic Island and the Larrian Magic Tower, and sought to erase the influence of the Bohemirn Magic Tower within the territory, it was for the same reason.
That, was his mistake.
Even if separated by the vast scale of the continent, the Bohemirn Magic Tower was not something to be taken lightly. No one could be blamed.
It was simply the way he had lived.
Thud, thud, crash!
The chopped remains of the territorial lord were scattered out of the carriage.
Demi-humans and magical beasts, drawn by the scent of blood, rushed in and devoured the human remains with ravenous greed.
And when the food was gone, they turned on each other, tearing and devouring their own kind.
Inside the rattling carriage.
Leader Aldamia tossed his bloodstained apron outside.
"Hahaha, it has been truly long since I enjoyed such a delightful time. A pity that the lord's tongue was too loose for his title, but, well, it wasn't all that bad."
Neatly arranging his attire, he pressed down the purple silk hat on his head.
"Now then, the hostile force of the Bohemirn Magic Tower… mm, that's too long. Since there's a fellow among them called Kendras, why don't we just call them that?"
"That sounds good, Leader."
"Good suggestion. Then we've roughly identified Kendras location. Their base is Wells Town, famous for its vast wheat fields. Though the exact position is unclear…"
From the corner, Adrian stared intently.
Aldamia shrugged, dismissing the chilling gaze with a laugh and a wave of his hand.
"No need to glare like that. We already know where Kendras contact resides. You heard all the information gathering too, didn't you?"
"..."
"Mm! A man should be taciturn! In any case, once we track down that contact and uncover Kendras stronghold, our commission will be complete! Nothing to worry about!"
Aldamia spun on his heel and stood sharply to attention.
"Torture, disguise, and acting, those are my specialties, aren't they, everyone!"
"Y, yes, Leader!!"
"Honestly, no one can match your acting."
"Hahaha! Thank you! Since Devoni and Mashi are stirring up a carnival in the city, we too must put on a performance worthy of them!"
Mad laughter rang out.
Amidst it, Adrian sank back into his memories.
No matter how much he recalled, the countless scenes brought forth no emotion, only drifting before his consciousness.
Their destination was Wells Town.
The command etched into the magic circle was nearing its end.
***
"Big Hand" Jerik was living the greatest peak of his life.
He was merely acting as a middleman, smuggling goods upon request, yet each deal brought commissions that made his mouth water, wealth falling straight into his lap.
Assets he could not have glimpsed even if he worked himself to the bone for years, were amassed in just a few months… it was beyond his wildest dreams.
'The only concern, is that I don't know who exactly is requesting these goods.'
But truthfully, he didn't want to know.
The work was simple: prepare the goods, deliver them at the appointed time, receive payment in cash or kind.
Whatever the backstory, whatever their identity, he had no thought of quitting.
Who would walk away from such easy, enormous profits?
'Frankly, if I cut ties now, who knows what revenge they'd take…'
It was far too late to stop, now that he had started.
Yes, better to bet big, than to beg for scraps at the bottom forever.
There was no guarantee that he wouldn't become entrenched in this business like the old fox Padreld. He would turn this village into another Smuggler's Canyon.
Jerik vowed so as he stepped out of the bath.
Drying himself, he put on a luxurious robe and walked down the cold corridor.
It was chilly because the hallway was open to the outside for the inner garden, but this too was a luxury.
He went down to the lower floor with quick steps.
His new pastime was lying on the plush sofa he had recently purchased, and sipping wine that didn't even suit his palate.
But today, there was a guest.
"You're finally here."
Ash-gray hair, blue eyes.
A robe so radiant it dazzled the eyes.
A man whose very presence was in another dimension compared to Jerik sat on the sofa.
"Who…?"
"Sit. I have something to tell you about the clients you've been trading with."
A solemn, oppressive voice.
'Could it be… a robber?'
That was all he could think of.
Feeling a chill down his spine, Jerik called for the mercenaries he had hired.
"Guards! Guards! There's a rob—"
But he fell silent mid-cry.
On the balcony outside the window, his mercenaries lay slumped, lifeless.
"Hiccup."
Now, the unnatural quiet of the house pressed upon him with dread. Straining his ears, he heard nothing.
It seemed he was the only one still awake.
Step, step.
Jerik approached and sat on a chair.
His posture was meek, his back curved into a bow.
"Ah… what did you just say?"
"I heard you've been dealing tobacco."
Verden took out a small box from his robes.
When Jerik saw the bundle of black tobacco inside, his eyes widened.
"T, this is Faver?"
"You recognized it quickly."
"Of course, my clients…"
Clap. Jerik covered his mouth with his hand.
Speaking about client information was forbidden…!
But it was too late to take it back.
"I currently hold quite a large supply of Faver. I hear it sells for a high price."
"Y, yes. Since it's a new product from the Central Continent, that is true…"
"So then."
Verden leaned back.
Resting his chin on the back of his hand, he spoke quietly.
"I want to open dealings with your client as well."
Naturally, refusal was not an option.
This was no request or suggestion, but a threat.
The third force Verden was searching for.
At last, he stood at the very doorstep of contact with them.
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