The Merchant and the Blacksmith (3)
“Let’s go upstairs and talk.”
The head of the merchant guild finally spoke after hearing the clink of a handful of gold coins from Daellon.
And so, Daellon found himself in the reception room, guided by one of the guild’s staff.
“Hmm.”
Daellon smacked his lips. The fruit and tea the staff had brought were long gone.
He suddenly realized he had been eating far more than usual.
“How much have I eaten today alone?”
There was the lunch at the inn, coffee and snacks with the elder wizard, beer with Reberon, and now the refreshments at the guild.
He was a big guy and usually ate a lot, but today he had consumed more than twice his usual amount.
Was he going to have a growth spurt?
Click.
Lost in these trivial thoughts, Daellon was interrupted by the entrance of Volkmar Gallios, the head of the merchant guild.
Volkmar, who had been drenched in sweat, had cleaned up and changed into a crisp shirt and trousers. As he dried his damp hair with a towel, he spoke.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. In the early days of a business, you have to be hands-on. Until everything’s in place, you can’t just hand over the reins. Otherwise, you’ll go under in no time.”
“You’ve been working hard.”
“Not at all. It’s all for my own benefit, after all. So, about that handful of gold coins. What’s that about?”
Volkmar tilted the teapot, found it empty, and called for a staff member, all while Daellon began to speak.
“I need twenty-six gold coins. As soon as possible.”
”…You haven’t gotten yourself into gambling again, have you?”
“No.”
Daellon shook his head at Volkmar’s half-closed eyes.
“A friend of mine’s family is in debt.”
“Debt? That much?”
“It was a business loan. It ballooned into something much bigger.”
Daellon briefly explained the situation.
The debt Reberon incurred when opening his forge, how it was taken over by the Telia Trading Company, and how they had inflated it and were now resorting to threats.
After hearing the whole story, Volkmar set his teacup down with a sigh.
“Well, that’s a relief. At least you’re not back in the gambling dens.”
Oh, come on, I told you, I’m done with gambling.
“Addiction is a scary thing. It’s easy to start, but getting out is a whole different story.”
“So, are you going to lend me the money or not?”
“Do you think you left a stash of platinum with me or something?”
Volkmar grumbled but poured Daellon another cup of tea. He savored the aroma before speaking.
“But what’s your connection to this blacksmith? A friend? A distant relative?”
“I told you, a friend’s family.”
”…So, basically a stranger?”
Volkmar tilted his head, puzzled.
“I thought the same thing that night you massacred those goblins. You’re a hard man to understand.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Daellon replied curtly, prompting Volkmar to burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! Yes, it is a compliment. I suppose a mere mortal can’t comprehend a hero.”
With a jingle, he rang the bell on the table.
“Anyway, it’s fine. Who am I? I’m the head of a well-known guild in the city alliance. I can spare twenty gold coins or so right away.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the process moved swiftly.
The staff who entered at the sound of the bell prepared the money without a single question.
Volkmar opened the pouch to check the contents before handing it to Daellon.
“Twenty-six gold coins. I hope the blacksmith’s venture succeeds.”
Daellon accepted the pouch. It was heavy with gold coins, and the leather pouch and its strings were of fine quality.
He placed it back on the table and asked, “What do you want in return?”
“Haha, what are you talking about? Want? What could I possibly want?”
Volkmar waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry about it. What could I possibly expect from you? You’re destined to make this city buzz soon. Just being closely associated with you is enough for me.”
He genuinely seemed to mean it, sipping his tea as if it were no big deal.
But Daellon could see the greed lurking in his eyes.
A close association, indeed. What a sly merchant. Daellon chuckled softly.
“You’re a merchant, Volkmar. You might let a few silver coins slide, but not gold.”
Creak.
Daellon leaned forward, clasping his hands together. The chair creaked under his weight.
Was it because of Daellon’s massive build? For a moment, Volkmar felt as if a giant was looming over him.
Gulp.
He barely managed to swallow the tea in his mouth as Daellon continued.
“Sorry, but I don’t like feeling uneasy. I also don’t care for vague wordplay. If you’re not giving this for free, tell me now. What do you want from me?”
Click.
Volkmar set his teacup down, his fingers trembling slightly.
”…Let’s meet again at this time tomorrow.”
He cleared his throat and continued.
“I do have a favor to ask. No, it’s more of a request.”
“A request?”
“Coincidentally, it also involves the Telia Trading Company. They’re… a shadier group than they seem.”
Volkmar rubbed his mustache with his fingertips, a nervous gesture.
“I’ll explain more tomorrow. I’ve got a mountain of work to sort out downstairs.”
“How convenient.”
Daellon nodded, leaning back into the plush chair.
Volkmar exhaled a long breath, relieved.
“I’ll make sure to compensate you beyond the gold I’m giving you now. I know your worth, and I won’t shortchange you.”
“Alright.”
Daellon tucked the pouch into his coat. He grabbed a handful of apple slices and cherry tomatoes from the tray and stood up.
“Thanks for the tea. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, take care.”
Thud.
After Daellon left the room.
“Whew.”
Volkmar slumped back in his chair, utterly drained. Sweat trickled down his forehead.
‘Volkmar, you fool. After all these years as a merchant, you still can’t read people.’
He had tried to probe Daellon but ended up feeling pressured instead. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Volkmar lay back in the long chair.
“Tsk. I’ve got a long way to go to match my father.”
Knock, knock, knock.
Just then, a staff member knocked on the door.
“Master Volkmar, all the goods for today have been unloaded. Shall we organize them as usual?”
“Yes. Do as I instructed. I’ll be down shortly.”
There was still much to do.
Even without the power struggle with the Telia Trading Company, the new leather workshop business required a lot of attention.
”…”
But he just couldn’t muster the energy.
Volkmar decided to take a short break.
The next morning.
Daellon, who had risen early, made his way to the blacksmith’s shop through the morning mist.
The winter dawn air was cold, and his breath formed clouds with every exhale.
Yet Daellon wore only a loose cloth garment.
‘I thought I’d buy a padded coat once I got to the city, but strangely, I don’t feel cold.’
His superhuman physique was naturally resistant to the cold, but not to this extent.
Back on Earth, even if he didn’t feel freezing, he couldn’t avoid his body slowing down in the chill.
But ever since he emerged from the sewers, his body had changed.
The cold winter wind seeped through his clothes, yet his body remained as agile as on a warm spring day.
He didn’t even get goosebumps, which should have been inevitable.
It felt as if he had gained some kind of cold resistance in a game.
‘Is it because of the increased stamina? Or the dragon’s blood?’
It wasn’t a question he could answer alone. Daellon decided to ask the elder wizard about the dragon’s blood the next time they met.
‘Come to think of it, I never asked why he came all the way to the Bronze District to meet me.’
Daellon scratched his chin. The questions kept piling up.
Even after hundreds of playthroughs, there were things he hadn’t experienced from behind the monitor.
He had never started with such superhuman stats, and from behind the monitor, this world was just a game.
No matter how well-crafted a game is, its content is just characters and plots made of 0s and 1s.
It couldn’t compare to the living, breathing reality he was in now.
“Hmm.”
As he walked, the blacksmith’s shop came into view. Daellon pulled out a half-mask from his coat.
The silver mask, with its exaggerated mouth, was hardened with dried blood and ichor. It was a symbol of the Apostles of Regression.
‘I wonder how Sienna is doing.’
Yesterday, before meeting the elder wizard, Daellon had stopped by the Crow’s Nest to collect his payment. He had asked Sienna to investigate the organization related to the other half of the mask.
Before long, she would become the city’s most renowned information broker. But how much had she uncovered about the Apostles of Regression by now?
Despite the growing questions, his knowledge of the future, even if vague, remained unparalleled.
Among the game settings in his mind were secrets that even Sienna, the information broker, couldn’t easily access.
Take, for instance, the Telia Trading Company.
“I always thought I’d get tangled up with that company somehow.”
The Telia Trading Company.
A group nurtured in the open by the cult known as the Apostles of Regression.
Over the past few years, the company had aggressively taken control of the Bronze District’s market.
As a result, all the materials for potions, weapons supply, and countless other necessities for running the cult passed through Telia.
In essence, Telia was the lifeline of the cultists.
He had been planning to crush them at the first opportunity, and now they had conveniently provided a link.
“They must have noticed me by now. A confrontation is inevitable.”
Dalen stroked his chin. He wanted nothing more than to storm the company, destroy everything, and take down the head of the company.
But Telia was a legitimate merchant guild, recognized by the authorities.
This wasn’t like dealing with the sewer necromancer.
“First, I need to get Leberon out of their clutches.”
Dalen tucked a half-mask into his coat and pulled out the pouch of money he received from Volkma.
This could turn into a long battle.
And Leberon was a crucial figure for the future.
Given the uncertainty of how this conflict would unfold, severing the ties between Leberon and the company as soon as possible was a priority.
“Come to think of it, the head of the Gallios Caravan didn’t seem to get along with the company either.”
Volkma mentioned a request concerning Telia.
He also hinted that the group was shady.
Entrusting a task to a mercenary meant the relationship was bad enough to require force.
“If I can exploit the conflict between the caravan and the company, I might be able to take down Telia more easily than expected.”
Unlike battles in the shadows, conflicts in the open required open forces to resolve without repercussions.
He needed to hear the details of the request. Dalen tossed the money pouch in the air and caught it as he turned into an alley.
“Hmm?”
Something caught his senses.
Inside the alley, in the direction of the forge he was heading to.
“Vero’s forge.”
A group of people was gathered in front of the forge. Dalen quickly expanded his sensory range.
”······!”
”······!!”
Curses, shouts, heavy breathing, and screams.
The low rumble of footsteps. The clash of metal against metal. The faint scent of blood carried by the mist.
His heightened senses, now reaching the realm of the superhuman, absorbed a flood of information.
Simultaneously, his intelligence, always at that level, pieced together a vague image from the data.
“Forty-three in total. One is Penny, the other is Leberon. The rest are confronting them.”
In that strange, almost sixth-sense-like perception, Dalen could vividly picture the situation deep within the alley, even without seeing it.
“They’re thugs. All armed.”
He sprinted forward.
Whoosh—
The mist parted, and his figure vanished into the gap.
“Old man, just come quietly. Do you really think we’re here for a few measly coins?”
The thug sneered. Leberon gritted his teeth.
He had expected this.
Ever since the thug demanding repayment had returned with both wrists shattered.
Perhaps even earlier, when the Telia Trading Company began systematically tightening its grip on him.
“Is there no word from that man, Dalen, from yesterday?”
Leberon swallowed dryly.
He thought he saw a glimmer of hope.
When he saw the man who casually offered to pay off his debt, acting as if a fortune of several florins was nothing.
When he heard from Penny the unbelievable tale of how he had rescued a wizard from hundreds of frogmen.
He felt a miracle had occurred in his hopeless life.
“If only he hadn’t given me hope…”
Yet, a part of him felt betrayed.
Betrayed by the mercenary who had abandoned his desperate hope.
But Leberon shook his head.
“This is my doing. It’s my burden to bear.”
His pride as a craftsman wouldn’t allow him to offload his burden onto a man he had just met.
“Hey, old man? I’m talking to you.”
“···I won’t go, you scoundrels! You never came for the debt in the first place. You want my skills and expertise!”
“Oh, you finally figured it out. But what can you do? You’ve already borrowed the money, and our guys are here.”
The thug smirked, mocking him.
Leberon trembled with the hammer in his hand.
In his prime, he had been a mercenary. Breaking through a ring of thugs like these wasn’t difficult.
Several thugs had already tried to drag him away, only to end up sprawled on the cold ground.
But.
“Hey, don’t glare like that. Keep it up, and we might have to hurt your pretty niece.”
“Ugh…”
When the thugs held Penny with a knife to her throat, Leberon was paralyzed.
“You bastards! I’ll smash your heads with my hammer one day!”
“Hahaha! Then I guess we better enjoy this pretty girl before you get the chance.”
The bald thug with a sly grin approached Penny, who was held by another thug.
“Heh heh. Such a pretty face.”
The thug raised his tattooed hand.
As his fingers brushed against Penny’s unconscious face.
“Let’s see…”
Whirr!
A disc of light flashed through the mist,
“Ugh!”
Thud!
Slicing through the thug’s wrist and embedding itself into the ground.