The One-Eyed Artisan (4)
The conversation was going smoothly.
The human body has numerous joints, both large and small, and with the right touch, they can serve as a lubricant for smooth communication.
From the mouth, dripping with blood-tinged saliva, information about the rebels of the Char Kingdom soon began to spill out.
Not only did they reveal their plans to track and deal with Daelon, but also the current schemes of the rebels who called themselves the “Guardians of the Seven Crowns.”
Daelon stroked his chin and asked again.
“So, taking advantage of the continent’s chaos, your rebels plan to start a civil war before it’s too late. Is that right?”
“We’re not… rebels… Aaargh!”
The bandit, whose shoulder was already grotesquely twisted, couldn’t hold back a scream as it was wrenched two more times in the opposite direction.
The noise was loud, but it didn’t matter.
They were in an alley a bit away from the site of the fire.
The castle guards were likely fully occupied with managing the fire and collapse, pulling even the regular patrols to help.
“Answer with a simple yes or no. Got it?”
“Y-yes… ugh.”
Daelon looked down at the bandit, who was coughing up blood and foam, and fell into thought.
The disturbances caused by monsters were significantly affecting the continent’s political landscape.
Casualties among the armies fighting these creatures were rising, and the price for mercenaries and swordsmen had nearly doubled.
With merchants’ transport fees also increasing, it was only natural that overall prices had skyrocketed.
The chaotic state of affairs was an inevitable result.
As guards were reassigned to patrol duties, the security in cities worsened by the day.
Rising prices and the increasingly dangerous atmosphere in back alleys led to frequent disturbances, both large and small.
The continent was unknowingly spiraling into a vicious cycle.
Fortunately, nothing major had erupted yet, but at this rate, it was only a matter of time.
The rebels of the Char Kingdom were aiming to exploit this chaos, planning to dethrone the current Tsarina and place their own king on the throne.
“Tsk.”
Daelon clicked his tongue.
This continent seemed to be a place where solving one problem only led to another, like a string of sausages waiting to burst.
Even in the past few months, there had been more incidents than he could count on one hand.
From the monster disturbances and the witch of ashes who had made a pact with an evil god, to the demon’s resurrection and Everlock’s betrayal.
And just a month ago, there was the invasion of the Azure Scales, which wasn’t even in the original game.
After a fierce battle with a true dragon, Daelon had barely found the time to gather his strength, and now a civil war was brewing in the north.
For Daelon, who needed to find a way to control the dragon’s blood, these constant disruptions were nothing but a nuisance.
“The One-Eyed Artisan, that shadowy figure, leaving his home ground of Falcion is no ordinary matter.”
Tsk. Daelon clicked his tongue again and turned his head slightly. He spoke, staring into the darkness of the alley.
“Enough watching. Come out.”
”…As expected of the warrior from the rumors.”
With a soft rustle, the darkness of the alley peeled away like scales.
Emerging from the shadows was a woman dressed in black, stealthy attire.
The bandit, still coughing and bleeding, widened his eyes at the sight of her. He shouted.
“Executor Taran!”
“Shh.”
With a swift motion, a small dart shot from the woman’s raised hand, embedding itself in the bandit’s neck.
The bandit shuddered, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed.
“A tranquilizer dart.”
Daelon sensed the bandit’s heartbeat and breathing quickly stabilize. It seemed to be a highly effective type.
“Nice to meet you, Daelon.”
Meanwhile, the woman, known as Taran, clasped her hands together and bowed her head politely.
Her speech was formal and cold, typical of those from the north, creating a peculiar atmosphere with her courteous demeanor and businesslike gestures.
“I’m Sasha Taran, an executor of the Char Kingdom’s royal special forces.”
“Daelon. Though it seems you already know.”
“Yes. Seeing how you saw through the invisibility tool made from dragon scales, it seems the rumors about the dragonslayer from the south are not unfounded.”
Her blue eyes curved into a gentle arc.
“It’s an honor to meet you.”
The Char Kingdom’s royal special forces were nominally part of the Ironblood Army, but in reality, they were a direct action and intelligence organization under the royal family.
The position of executor was a high rank, attainable only by those with proven skill and achievements.
Her formal introduction was unusual for a key informant of such an organization.
It implied that even within the special forces, Daelon’s status was highly regarded.
“You handled the situation wisely. By dealing with the enemies disguised as medics, you redirected the mercenaries’ resentment towards us. Where did that dwarf learn to handle explosives?”
“I have no idea. And if they didn’t want to be blamed, they should have dealt with it before it happened.”
Daelon replied, his fingers hooked into his belt.
As the woman said, the One-Eyed Artisan, Bjorn, had aimed to pin the blame on the Char Kingdom.
In this continent, the only groups capable of handling explosive weapons were essentially the Empire and the Char Kingdom.
And as the guards investigated the scene, they would likely find some evidence linking the incident to the Char Kingdom.
The mercenaries who lost their medics would curse the Char Kingdom’s royal special forces spread across the continent, rather than the real culprits, Daelon and his companions.
Moreover, the city alliance might apply some political pressure on the Char Kingdom regarding this incident.
Of course, that was none of Daelon’s concern. As he said, if they didn’t want to be blamed, they should have dealt with their own rebels.
“We’re not upset. We were looking for an opportunity anyway.”
In fact, we should thank you for doing our job for us, the woman added.
She pulled something shiny from her pocket and tossed it lightly to Daelon.
It was a pentagon-shaped badge with a subtle turquoise hue. Intricate words in the Char Kingdom’s language were inscribed on it.
“This is a token of our gratitude. It’s a badge made of orichalcum, a gem found only near the Frost Highlands, and serves as a symbol of the royal special forces. Present it to anyone affiliated with the Char Kingdom, and you’ll receive any assistance you need.”
“I’ll accept it.”
“We hope you’ll visit the Char Kingdom someday, so we can properly host you.”
The woman once again clasped her hands and bowed her head in a polite gesture.
Daelon nodded nonchalantly. He pocketed the badge and stepped away from the unconscious bandit.
By taking the blame for this incident and giving him the special forces badge, they were essentially offering to spare one survivor.
As he passed the special forces executor on his way out of the alley, Daelon whispered softly.
“My condolences about the twins.”
”…!”
Executor Sasha Taran felt a chill run down her spine.
She whipped her head around, but the towering mercenary had already vanished into the shadows of the alley.
”…”
Sasha bit her lip slightly. This stealth attire was specially crafted and enchanted.
It not only reduced her presence but also obscured her face behind the mask.
Yet, this warrior had seen through the mystery of the scale scroll.
Unless it was some kind of bloodline power, a mere enchanted mask was nothing to him.
“A dragonslayer, a grand mage, and a dwarf who handles explosives with expertise.”
Sasha shuddered as she recalled the mercenary’s companions.
What on earth was happening on this continent, with such superhumans wandering around like ordinary travelers?
With her hands still trembling, Sasha tightly clasped them together and nudged the unconscious rebel leader with her foot.
“Whew.”
She shook her head. Idle thoughts could wait.
What mattered now was extracting as much information as possible from this rebel leader.
As she bound the bandit’s limbs tightly with enchanted ropes, Sasha regained her cold, steely gaze.
“Basilikov.”
One of the rebel leaders who knew the deepest secrets of the rebellion, and the one who had lured her twin sister, Natasha Taran, a sniper of the Ironblood Army, into the rebel ranks.
Soon, the thoroughly bound bandit was dragged away by men in stealth attire.
He would soon spill all his secrets, eventually begging for death with nothing but groans and screams.
The next day.
The explosion that had destroyed the medical building overnight had turned the city upside down.
Rivibach was a small city, and with more outsiders than usual staying there, it was only natural that the events of the night spread rapidly throughout the city.
“The Char Kingdom’s royal special forces eliminated the rebel forces disguised as medics.”
“The rebels of the Tsar’s nation were plotting some kind of scheme against the mercenaries of Revivach.”
“The Tsar’s royal family expressed deep regret over the damage caused to the city alliance by their special forces and promised appropriate compensation.”
This was the gist of the rumors spreading among the merchants and mercenaries.
The inn’s first-floor tavern, the hub of such rumors, was bustling with twice the usual number of patrons even in broad daylight.
“The special forces must be quite something. To block people’s eyes and ears with hastily concocted rumors overnight… I thought they were just a bunch of pale, stoic types.”
Volkma said, rubbing his forehead as he stared at a mug of diluted honey water. He still seemed to be suffering from the beer hangover from the night before.
“They’re directly under the royal family, you know. And it’s a misconception that all Tsar’s people are stoic. They’re kind to their families and friends.”
“Is that so?”
The merchant asked, wincing slightly from a headache. Felber nodded and took a refreshing swig of his watered-down rice wine.
Perhaps his body had grown younger, and with it, his tolerance for alcohol. Watching the wizard drink even more than the day before, Dalen silently chewed his stew.
Felber slammed his empty mug down and said, “Don’t look at me like that. The server said this rice wine is good for the body.”
”…Did I say anything?”
“No, but your eyes seem to be saying, ‘Are you really going to waste your newly acquired youth by drinking yourself silly?’”
Maybe that’s just your conscience talking, old man, Dalen thought to himself as he took another spoonful of stew.
Felber ordered another round of rice wine from a passing server, then leaned back comfortably in his chair and asked, “What are your plans now? My destination was always here, but didn’t you have business in the labyrinth city?”
“Yes, I do.”
“When do you plan to leave?”
Instead of answering, Dalen turned his head.
The dwarf across from him, who had been munching on a sausage, swallowed his food as he felt Dalen’s gaze.
“If the one-eyed master is leaving the city, it must be something quite important and urgent.”
”…A bit. But there’s no need to adjust your schedule for me.”
It might already be too late, Bjorn added, sniffing.
“The Raven’s Nest. Something seems to have happened to its owner.”