Istood in front of the others, both amused and unamused at the same time, if one could put it that way. I was seriously running out of ways of saying how little fucks I gave when it came to the games of nobility, their friends, and spies.
“What can we do for you, bud?” I asked. The young man from the restaurant briefly sneered at me but tried to hide it with a fake smile. It reminded me of a car salesman’s grin in a way. Perhaps a punchable face.
“We’re not talking to you, snowhead,” he said, “so get lost. Now ladies, I’m sure you’re bored with these pricks.” He eyed Milia. “How—”
“Listen, we’re in a hurry, and don’t have time for your shitty attempt at a pickup line,” I said. They were all mortal, except for one. The noble he spoke to before we arrived.
“You’ll have better luck with old righty tonight than stuttering at my betrothed.”
His face turned three shades of purple with his nasty sneer as the nobles around him burst into laughter. The magic noble was on the ground, holding his sides.
I… didn’t think my comeback was all that funny, just stated facts. The guards, seeing two groups in confrontation, started marching over to us.
“What’s going on here?” the lead guard asked.
“Oh sir, we were trying to explore this beautiful town as visitors, and these unruly men said something about offering us a good time,” Nuwa said, laying on the innocent girl act quite thick. Or… was this just Nuwa being Nuwa? I couldn’t help but be impressed, because I had no idea.
“A good time, huh?” the lead guard asked, his voice pissed.
“Wait, that’s total—”
“I know your parents,” the lead guard interrupted. He scowled at the only non-noble in the group. “Your father would love to know why his son is attempting to force himself on women in the middle of the day. Come and don’t speak. Anything you say can and will be used against you. This is the fourth time for you, Silvus.”
“This isn’t over!” the serving boy said.
The nobles shook their head. “We have nothing to do with this. He’s interes—”
“Let’s go!” the lead guard snapped. “I will hear no excuses. And just because you’re a magician, don’t think I won’t inform Magmus of your behavior.”
The noble magician dropped his hand, expression blasting into fear, as if this Magmus guy would jump out of the ground to kill him at any second. Just like that, they all left with the guard. The young man from the restaurant gave me a death stare, snarling, as he was forced away.
I sighed. “Let’s just pretend that never happened and get moving. Quickly check out some of the competition and get…”
The rumble of distant thunder made me pause.
“We should probably set up camp,” Nuwa said. “Or get an inn room. I don’t want to travel in the rain.”
I smirked at her. She glared, daring me to order everyone to travel in the storm.
“Alright, alright, I’ll activate the camp gift a little way outside of town,” I said. “It will be up to you to get there before the storm arrives. If you want to waste gold on an inn room, feel free to do so, but you’ll be at my mercy if I decide it’s best to leave.”
Milia, Alexander, and the pets joined me to pick a spot for the camp. I hinted at Kelvin, Iris, and Chenzu to look out for the teenagers. After setting things up, making sure the golem guards were good to go, we reentered the town. I wasn’t sure if Opal could remotely control the camp, but I wouldn’t make her stay behind while everyone wondered around to explore, especially when there were perfectly intimidating rock creatures to handle any trouble for us.
The town itself wasn’t anything special, as they consisted of the standard wood and stone models. Traditional houses, inns, restaurants, shops, and merchant stands. Alexander bought himself something called a salted caramel tiger fruit on a stick. It was basically a candied apple with a different, orangish, large, plum-like fruit with salt and sugar sprinkled on it.
I ordered Milia and me one as well. It turned out to be pretty good in a strange way. It wasn’t exactly plum flavor, but something that somehow balanced properly with the caramel, crunchy sugar, and salt coating.
“We should see if they have any spirit wine,” Milia said, her eyes seemingly starry. “I bet that infuriating Chenzu found some without us.” She sighed. “Eight years is a long wait, Alexander.”
The former pirate king shrugged. “I actually don’t mind. My wife used to nag a lot about my old drinking habits. In the end, she was right. If the… incident hadn’t killed me, the booze would have.” I winced at the dark humor, which only made the kid laugh. “Now isn’t the time to get moody, Sir Nate. You once told me that one must make the best of a situation. This new life here isn’t so bad. You’re probably the best employer one could have, even for Mandi, who’s from a wealthy family.”
“No need to lay it on thick until I’ve earned that praise,” I said.
Alexander shrugged. “If that’s what you’re telling yourself, then who am I to object to that? I’ll look forward to seeing what you’ll accomplish before finally raising the victory flag.”
The first potion shop we entered was actually an alchemist’s store. If that was it, then we’d be moving on. However, the owner of this shop turned out to be a gnome man. A real fucking gnome.
Standing about three feet tall, with a pointy hat and green clothing, something resembling a lab coat, the dark man was bottling what appeared to be the last batch of a metal-polishing chemical.
“Oi, are you going to order something, lad, or do I have to kick you out of here?” he said with an accent. “I do not welcome pesky, glass-licking, stupid, and cheap window shoppers. Do you have any idea how irritating it is to think I earned myself a drink or larger dinner tonight, only for the broke prick bastard to turn around?”
Wolverine barked at him once, gaining a flinch from the tiny man. Somehow, I felt as if the wolf told him to watch his words.
“You don’t scare me, little pup,” the gnome said.
“We… were checking out the potion and alchemy shops in town,” I said. “And no, I didn’t come in to window shop. I’ll take some of the metal polisher.”
“Now you’re talking my language,” the gnome said. “One gold and fifty silvers.” He smiled. “Finally, I’m eating tonight, thank Wanda’s rippling ass.”
“I’ll take some hair wash,” Alexander said.
“Excellent! Coming right up,” the shop owner said, clapping twice. “Forgive my anger from earlier. Window shoppers are the worst. What’s this about checking out the potion shops?” He gathered our requested items and we paid for them, which widened his smile. “You should be wary of potion makers. Some could be tricky magicians. Piss them off and they’ll turn you into a toad. Or roast you on a spit like a seasoned naked turkey.”
“Not all of them are so bad,” I said without giving myself away.
The gnome snorted. “I have to stay on alert, ready to crush an old enemy at any time. In the art of alchemy, of course. There’s nothing like splashing them with alchemic solutions meant to melt them alive, like an acid. Oh, oh! Or oil and light those rude, cocky, arrogant, no-good pricks like funeral fires. Call me a pathetic alchemist, will they? Hmph!” He folded his arms.
“But I suppose you’re right. Not all of them are bad. Not all of them are selfish stick-up-the ass nobles or worse, noble magicians.”
I glanced around the oily, smelly place made of mostly stone, the scent actually reminding me of the times I visited a mechanic, minus getting upsold and ripped off. It was small, but not cramped. Chemicals were kept a good distance away from each other. I analyzed it.
“Potion makers don’t understand that relying on mana to fix their problems is no different than a serial opium user. They get addicted to the magic, forget the labor behind a successful mixture,” the gnome continued. “Bah! What am I saying? You’ll never understand me.”
[Oils and Smoils. Shop rank: E.]
The system didn’t give any additional information nor any snarky comment.
After leaving the small alchemy domain, we started toward a potion shop just ahead at the end of the street. Mandi and Opal were leaving a stand, small honey cakes in hand.
In his jailcell, Silvus shook with fury. Today was supposed to be his day, and what better way to celebrate things than to snatch up some beautiful women and have the party of his life? That prick-block ruined everything, even turned his friends against him. All connections he worked so damn hard to create, ruined with a single flash of humiliation.
Silvus’s future of leaving the pathetic peasant class and joining the ranks of the elite fell to shambles. On top of that, now having a criminal record. He’d be forced to banditry!
He looked at the muscled man in the neighboring cell staring at him with a creepy grin.
“What in Wanda’s hell are you staring at?” Silvus snapped. “You looking to fight?”
The large man laughed. “I was there when you were humiliated, like a little duckling. At least I’m in here for a tavern fight. I’ll be let out as soon as I’m no longer drunk off Wanda’s rear. You’re simply here because they don’t have a hole to toss you in so that they could be rid of you.” He laughed again, hiccupped, then laughed again, slapping his sides.
Silvus snarled to the point of his eyes going wild. “I’ll show them all. Try to get rid of me, will they? Well, I did nothing wrong. It’s the day I made the second step into adulthood. There are supposed to be parties in my name! You know what? This town can perish, for all I care.”
“Calm down, young blood, I only jest,” the large man said. “Are you that far stuck up in your arse?”
Silvus wasn’t listening. “Ares the Peace Spawner! Send this town to its doom! Ares the Peace Spawner, slayer of millions! Fire Stone town!”
Silvus turned and, seeing the large man as pale as the first twinkle of snow, he smiled. It was perhaps the nastiest smile one could ever curl across their face. The smile of victory, hatred, arrogance, disdain, and carelessness.
“Wh… why? You have such a long life ahead of you… yet, like a noble, you can’t seem to take a joke,” the large man said softly, his eyes looking around. He began to sweat heavily.
Silvus laughed and laughed and laughed. “Die, die, die!”
The storm, previously hours away, suddenly manifested over the town. The air stilled and then Silvus’s jail cell began to glow a radioactive green.
A voice poured into Silvus’s head, and the feeling of ecstasy outlined him as words of comfort became the only thing he knew.
“Yes, my lord. Your poison shall kill them all!” He laughed again. “Praise Ares!”
“Help! Guards! Guards! Lord Magmus! Please!” the large man screamed. “Good Wanda, this can’t be happening.”
Black clouds of miasma began to form, and no matter how much the large prisoner screamed for the guards, no one could hear him.
He spun to see Silvus on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the sky frozen in time with glee. The black cloud then came for him.
“It will take a little time to affect the others, but there’s no one here capable of curing poison, therefore this little culling is fine,” a woman’s voice said. “Cost effective too!”
