Chapter 17
The quiet training room.
With the Mana Lamp on the wall flickering gently, I stood in a formal stance and caught my breath.
"Phew... Haa."
I gathered mana at my fingertips.
It was a slow, agonizingly slow flow welling up and settling beneath my heart.
It sluggishly moved toward my hands, but then.
Gasp!
It immediately collapsed and scattered into the air.
An energy that vanished before it could take shape.
It was a failure.
"Another failure? How many times is that?" The voice from behind belonged to the disciple, Cael. He snorted and looked at me.
"Hah, at this rate, it's embarrassing to even call you a fellow Magic Apprentice, let alone a Magician."
Lisa, who was standing nearby, rolled her eyes.
"It's getting pathetic at this point. Seeing as you can't even handle Condensation, you really must have gotten in purely through your noble backing, huh?"
"If you truly wanted to learn magic, you should have at least come with the basics down."
Jaren chimed in. He deliberately mimicked my voice.
"'Phew... Haa~!' What is this, breathing exercises?"
Laughter echoed throughout the training room.
I kept my mouth shut and stared only at the floor.
Talking back would only earn me deeper mockery.
A familiar scene. A familiar humiliation.
But something... was bizarrely out of place.
Everything was too familiar, yet strangely vivid.
"Riv."
A low, dry voice rang out.
It was Master Croy.
He slowly walked over, leaning on a staff engraved with magic circles.
His fine white beard swayed beneath his chin, and his eyes gleamed like cold crystals.
"Staring into the void is not practice."
"I apologize, Master."
"Mana is not a sensation. Sensation is a fluke, and knowledge is a weapon. You lack both."
He turned his back to me and waved his hand.
Instantly, the flow of mana in the air reacted, drawing a blue magic circle.
"This is order. Understanding, calculating, and commanding. With your senses, you won't be able to draw a single line of it for the rest of your life."
Right then, something brushed past with a click, as if shifting out of place.
Stagger.
My vision wavered.
A faint crest surfaced on the floor.
The light was blue, but its shape was foreign and bizarre.
Complex lines I had never seen anywhere before.
And what those lines drew... was a cold, profound resonance.
At that moment, I was certain.
It was a taboo.
A token forged with something humanity was never meant to cross.
It was then.
"...Riv."
Master Croy's voice sounded... slightly different.
When I raised my head, he was completely motionless, as if time had stopped.
Cael, Lisa, and Jaren were the same.
Everyone was frozen still like living statues.
And beyond the wall of the training room, the shadow no one had noticed began to move.
A black form.
The thing that looked like a Robe slowly walked over, revealing itself as if a curtain had been drawn back on a stage.
Swish.
It lifted its head and looked at me.
It had no eyes and no expression.
Yet, a soundless smile seemed to bloom from it.
"Don't come any closer..."
I gasped for breath and backed away.
But my toes refused to budge, as if glued to the floor.
It gradually closed in on me.
"Stay away... Stay away... Staaay awaaay!!"
.
.
.
"Aaaargh!!"
Breathing heavily, I shot up from the bed.
My heart was racing, and my sweat-drenched hands were trembling.
Slowly lifting my gaze, I saw an unfamiliar ceiling illuminated by the faint dawn light.
...It was a dream.
However, the sensation was still vivid.
'...This isn't my memory.'
I slowly stared down at my palms.
It was definitely a memory left behind by the original Owner of this body.
What in the world was that?
The unknown crest and magic circles, the Master and disciples in an empty void, and that ominous presence appearing at the end.
...I had no idea what it meant.
But it definitely wasn't just some random nightmare.
This might become a clue someday.
Being forced into a miracle morning routine only left me feeling bitter.
Waking up wasn't exactly refreshing, but since I was already up, I figured I should head out.
***
Maybe people generally woke up early here, because I could see quite a few eating in the lobby.
They didn't even have alarms, yet everyone was up and about.
I quietly sat on one side of a dining table.
I took a bite of the bread set in front of me, but I didn't have much of an appetite.
My throat was parched, and my head felt as heavy as a stone.
Was it because of the dream?
It still lingered vividly in my mind.
That crest. And that unidentified form.
It felt like a memory, but also like just some bizarre nightmare.
But one thing was clear—it felt unpleasantly realistic.
That crest gave me the feeling that I had seen something I wasn't supposed to.
So there was only one conclusion.
I wouldn't be going to the Magic Tower, which had been one of my original goals, for the time being.
It was hard to explain the exact reason.
However, I had a feeling that going there right now wouldn't end well.
My body—no, perhaps the memories of this body—were telling me so.
When your intuition is this strong, you just have to follow it.
I had seen countless people ruin themselves trying to act tough for no reason.
Besides, there were still plenty of other things worth doing.
The issue of uncovering that identity... well, postponing it wouldn't hurt.
Not dying right now was far more important.
Anyway, what should I do today?
There was still a day left until the request.
Being cooped up in the inn all day felt too stifling.
If I just sat still like this... it felt like I was falling behind.
My body was resting, but my mind was exhausted—that kind of feeling.
Is my mindset too modern....
Maybe it was okay to live a bit more leisurely in this world.
But deeply ingrained habits were hard to break.
Without money, checking out the Market was pointless, so maybe I should just roam the city.
After a moment of thought, I looked out the window.
The sunlight shining outside didn't look too bad.
The downtown area would be bustling like yesterday, so a quiet place would be better.
I should head to the outskirts of the city.
I had no idea what would be there, but that didn't matter.
If there was nothing, that was fine too.
Rather than getting a headache in a noisy place, it was more comfortable to walk alone and organize my thoughts.
"Alright. Let's head out."
The city outskirts. Even though it was inside the castle walls, management here was lax.
The Guards, who could be seen sporadically near the inn, were nowhere to be found here.
Perhaps the sewage system was poor, because the stench of filth was overwhelming.
The wooden walls were cracked in places, and the houses barely stood by leaning against each other.
Through the gaps, small, dark Tents could be seen.
The way they lined the alleys looked just like a countryside five-day market.
Many places didn't even have signs, and some had curtains drawn to block the view inside.
There were some suspicious-looking places, but not all of them were like that.
In front of one Tent, Wooden Dolls of unknown origin were messily displayed.
At the adjacent Tent lay faded belts, crude Rings, and small crystals that looked like they'd been picked up from somewhere.
"This really is an item that brings good luck. Well, half of it."
The Merchant, who looked like an old man, grinned, revealing a toothless mouth.
I didn't reply and quietly averted my gaze.
At another Tent, travel amulets, secondhand Alchemy Bottles, and wooden carvings with suspiciously cheap price tags were being sold.
I couldn't tell if they were real or fake, but they were full of items I had no idea how to use.
Nevertheless, someone was buying something.
Just then, a hoarse voice rang out from behind a Tent.
"Did you bring it?"
I turned my head, pretending to be indifferent.
A man wearing a long Robe was taking something out of his pocket, dealing with someone who was far too nervous to be a mere customer.
Something was exchanged. It wasn't the sound of coins.
Two small bottles, wrapped in paper, carefully changed hands.
'...Is this some kind of Black Market?'
I didn't pretend to notice and just kept walking along the path.
Someone's gaze swept over my back, but I didn't look back.
In this place, just making eye contact could start trouble.
The end of the secluded path.
Behind a half-collapsed stone wall, a dust-covered equipment box was tumbling about.
Next to it was a man crouching down as if packing up his belongings, having seemingly finished his business for the day.
'What is he selling over there?'
As I approached, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
It was because the lower half of the man's face felt familiar.
A faded leather Cloak, a crumpled fur hat, and the corner of his mouth tilted up on one side.
"...Dardan?"
The man raised his head.
It was Dardan. Once his face was revealed, I was certain.
Fortunately, I had pulled my Robe down low over my face, so he didn't seem to recognize me.
Without a single word, he picked up the box containing his luggage and disappeared into the alley.
'I'm sure of it. What is that bastard doing here?'
He was a Fence, so naturally, he'd be here too....
I wanted to follow him right away, but it was obviously a dangerous area at a glance.
After what I went through yesterday, I couldn't afford to fall for the same thing.
'...I should come back later.'
***
Not every part of the city's outskirts was gloomy.
As I walked along the castle walls, an area with quite a bit of smoke billowing up caught my eye.
...An industrial district?
As I got closer, I saw a Blacksmith.
It seemed to be a system where they crafted things here and passed them on to the commercial district.
It made sense; there was no reason to put smoke-filled facilities right in the middle of the city.
However, the attire of the people coming and going was better than I expected.
I thought there would only be Blacksmiths, but I also saw people wearing rather expensive-looking clothes.
Were they coming to make direct requests?
It seemed they didn't just use items available at the Market.
Certainly, it was better to custom order high-quality goods.
It wasn't just Blacksmiths either.
Next to it was a leather workshop, and a little further down, a textile mill could be seen.
Somehow, this entire area felt like one giant workshop.
The smell of smoke, iron, and leather mixed together and pierced my nose.
Although it was a bit noisy, it was strangely lively.
While walking down the street, I stopped in my tracks at the commotion coming from one Blacksmith.
The Blacksmith Owner and a noble were having a heated argument.
The noble raised his voice, demanding something from the Blacksmith Owner, while the Owner stubbornly waved his hands in refusal.
"What I want isn't a simple weapon."
The noble said.
"That item is like the life of my family. What makes it so difficult?"
The Blacksmith Owner shook his head and replied.
"That is not something I can forge. You should look for another Blacksmith...."
The noble glared at the Owner for a moment with a dumbfounded expression, then finally turned around.
Completely unaware that I had been watching them.
After they left, I approached the Blacksmith Owner.
"What was that about?"
I asked.
The Blacksmith Owner seemed lost in thought for a moment before speaking in a low voice.
"What that person was looking for... was an important item. But it isn't something I can forge."
I tilted my head slightly at his words.
"What exactly was it?"
The Blacksmith Owner lightly shook his head and replied.
"Are you a Mercenary? You'd be better off not paying mind to such things."
He cast a fleeting glance at me, then nonchalantly turned his back and resumed his work.
As if that was all he had to say to me, he didn't speak another word.
Questions flashed through my mind, but I had no intention of digging any deeper.
It was just a passing incident.
***
After circling the outskirts of the city, the sun was already beginning to set.
Seeing skewers being sold on the street on my way back made me feel hungry.
I wanted to buy some, but I didn't have a single penny.
For some reason, the inn was bustling with people.
Judging by the familiar faces, it was probably Barret's Mercenary Group, who I'd be going on the request with tomorrow.
Among the members of the Mercenary Group, I had actually only formally met two of them aside from the Commander, but neither was here.
Furthermore, Barret was nowhere to be seen either.
In short, the place was full of strangers.
I grabbed an empty seat and waited for my meal, but strangely enough, I felt eyes on me.
I thought they would just chat noisily among themselves, but their gazes kept darting my way whenever there was a pause.
What is this, why are they acting like this? They must have come to eat, not to people-watch.
A moment later, a man sitting opposite me spoke up.
"Hey, you. I heard about you, you know? They say you're quite the hotshot."
Even his voice was gruff.
A blunt way of speaking, closely cropped hair.
At a glance, he was the type to use his fists before his words.
I had only encountered surprisingly well-mannered Mercenaries so far, so this style felt oddly unfamiliar.
"Word is you took down Thieves all by yourself? Is that true?"
It sounded more like picking a fight than a question.
It wasn't a compliment, nor was it curiosity. It was that specific tone used for picking fights.
He was clearly the type who was desperate for attention.
I just stared at him wordlessly, gripping my spoon.
"What, you can't even answer? Or are you all talk?"
He sprang up from his seat.
The dining table rattled, shaking some of the tableware.
A few surrounding Mercenaries read the room and discreetly backed away.
"Alright. Words won't cut it, so let's find out right here. Let's go a round, right now."
I slowly turned my head.
I didn't say anything, but I didn't avoid his gaze either.
The atmosphere in the inn plummeted, becoming dead silent.
There was always one guy exactly like this back at the company.
The kind of guy who picks a fight first, then feels ignored if the other person doesn't respond.
I had no real intention of fighting, but if you don't engage with this kind of breed, they latch on until the bitter end.
...This is getting annoying.
Just then, another Mercenary sitting nearby stepped in.
It was a tall man with sharp eyes.
"Enough. Stop picking fights. Even if you're fresh out of the sticks, try to read the room."
"What? The sticks? Who do you think you are—"
"He's someone Barret brought in personally. He's not someone you can just mess with on a whim."
A brief silence flowed.
Perhaps sensing the gazes around him, the man, who I expected to burst into curses, stopped.
He bit his lip tightly and backed down, fists clenched.
"Hmph. Do whatever you want. I guess avoiding a fight counts as a skill to you."
Then he returned to his seat and plopped down.
'Where did Barret pick up another guy like this?'
Between him and Taren, there sure were a lot of weirdos.
I still couldn't forget the sight of them fleeing from the Thieves.
And this time, it was a simple-minded meathead.
Does Barret have some sort of habit of collecting trash?
At this point, I started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose.
I silently turned my head and picked up my utensils again.
As if acknowledging the conflict was over, the atmosphere in the dining hall began to flow again.
I was still hungry, but my appetite had somewhat vanished.
It seemed like this request wouldn't be smooth sailing either.
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