Settlement (2)
”…Well, this is unexpected.”
The man’s expression briefly hardened with those few words.
But soon, he was smiling again, a look of intrigue on his face.
The calm that came from centuries of existence wasn’t so easily shattered by one unexpected reaction.
“Indeed, it seems fitting for a warrior under the watchful eyes of the gods.”
“The High Priest and that demon keep mentioning these gods. Are the gods around here all voyeurs or something?”
The man’s expression tightened again, but the smile on his lips grew even more pronounced.
‘As expected.’
Dalen chuckled inwardly.
There was a reason he was deliberately trying to unsettle the transcendent’s thick veneer of calm.
Everon Lactalra.
Known as the “Face of a Thousand Changes,” this transcendent was someone who found interest in the unexpected.
‘As long as I maintain a certain balance, showing that I’m an unpredictable entity even to a transcendent can easily win their favor.’
And for someone of such stature, that favor was worth more than hundreds of gold coins.
Dalen hadn’t rushed to the administration office just for the reward of a few hundred gold coins.
“Your tone seems rather irreverent for someone who crossed the Northern Frost Plains.”
Everon spoke with a gentle smile.
Dalen replied lightly.
“I’m not exactly devout.”
“Perhaps it’s more accurate to say you lack faith entirely?”
Everon paused before speaking again.
“Besides, you never actually crossed the Frost Plains, did you?”
His eyes curved into a gentle arc, his lips lifting slightly more.
It was as if he wore a mask of a smiling face, his tone clear in its implication.
‘I know everything about you.’
So if you can, try to defy my expectations.
No matter how extraordinary a person might be, it’s only natural to feel overwhelmed in the face of such a transcendent attitude.
Even though no power emanated from the man’s body, the pressure from his expression, gestures, and every word was steeped in centuries of experience.
And in the face of that pressure…
“Pfft.”
Dalen couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
”…What’s so amusing?”
A slight crack appeared in the man’s smiling facade.
“No, nothing at all.”
Dalen didn’t bother to hide his amusement, his fingers tapping lightly on the table.
‘How should I respond here?’
In a brief moment, dozens of options flashed through his mind.
Though only a few words had been exchanged, this dialogue was a test born from the transcendent’s curiosity and interest.
So he had to meet those expectations.
After a moment of silence, Dalen asked with a voice still tinged with laughter.
“Did your seer tell you I never crossed the Frost Plains?”
“Pardon?”
“The White-Eyed Seer. Did that thousand-year-old fortune teller tell you about me?”
With that one sentence, the transcendent’s composure shattered.
His hand, reaching for his coffee cup, froze, and his previously unshakable expression crumbled.
”…This is unexpected. I didn’t think you’d know about the Seer.”
Everon spoke with a trembling voice.
One of the twenty-six transcendents, and among them, the most enigmatic.
Dalen’s casual mention of a being whose very name was unknown to the world left even the Face of a Thousand Changes, who had lived for over two hundred years, unable to maintain his composure.
“Truly, you are a fascinating being.”
His pupils still trembled slightly, a mix of interest, bewilderment, greater curiosity, and fear swirling within them.
In front of him, Dalen simply sipped his coffee with a nonchalant air.
“You give off the same feeling as when I deal with those you call transcendents, my friends.”
Dalen chuckled softly at the candid observation. It was only natural for Everon to feel that way.
Barring unexpected situations, this meeting was one Dalen had experienced countless times from behind a monitor.
Even before the conversation began, he had already held the flow and control of the dialogue.
And that wouldn’t have changed no matter who sat before him.
No matter how secretive the being, to Dalen, who had been an observer outside the monitor, they were just entities he had encountered and strategized against countless times.
“The coffee is good. Could I have another cup?”
Dalen said, tilting the empty pot. Everon snapped his fingers with a slightly exasperated expression.
An attendant waiting outside quickly entered to replace the refreshments.
For a while, only the clinking sounds of the tableware filled the room.
Click.
Everon spoke again after the attendants left and he took a sip of the new coffee.
“You mentioned bringing the essence of a demon. May I see it?”
His expression was calm once more, the earlier confusion gone.
Yet the subtle smile on his face indicated that Dalen had passed his test and earned his favor.
Clank. Clank.
The securely locked chest made a heavy noise.
Dalen smiled slightly at the weight in his hands.
He held a chest slightly larger than a thick tome.
It contained the reward for delivering the demon’s essence: one hundred and eighty gold coins.
Originally, the reward would have been around one hundred and fifty coins, but he had received a significant bonus.
Recalling that the favor of a transcendent was worth at least several dozen gold coins, Dalen gently stroked the chest.
“Almost two hundred gold coins.”
It was a moment that filled him with a sense of accomplishment.
Not long ago, he had been scavenging frogman darts in the sewers for a few extra silver coins, and now he held more gold than he could carry in both hands.
This was enough to buy a relic from the Age of Magic or a legendary craftsman’s weapon on the black market.
“I’ll have to think about how to spend it.”
In any case, the most important task after leaving the labyrinth was now complete.
Dalen headed to the Mage Tower to collect his vault and other spoils before making his way to the Bronze District.
His destination was the Crow’s Nest.
The hall was quiet, as it was still before business hours. Only the bartender, Bourbon, was polishing glasses behind the bar.
Dalen naturally took a seat at the table and placed his order.
“A Melond Highlander, please.”
Bourbon set down the glass he was polishing and began pouring the drink with practiced ease. Dalen watched him for a moment before asking.
“Is Sienna in?”
A nod.
A small nod was the response. And soon, Dalen could sense it too.
Two presences emerging from the soundproofed office and walking down the corridor.
Two presences.
One of them was a guest.
”…Anyway, I hope you pass on the message.”
“Don’t worry. With news of the labyrinth, she’ll probably stop by in a few days…”
Sienna trailed off as she opened the back door. Her gaze fixed on Dalen at the bar table.
Dalen chuckled and raised the glass he had just received. Sienna exclaimed.
“Dalen!”
“You’re going to make me deaf. Nice to see you too.”
“Ahaha, sorry. You came back sooner than I expected.”
Her laughter was light and cheerful.
Dalen chuckled in response, then raised his glass again as he saw the person emerging behind her.
“Dalen? Is that really you?”
“It’s been a while, Guildmaster.”
“By the gods, Siselacia! I heard you went down into the labyrinth, but here you are, in one piece!”
Volkma Gallios, the guildmaster of the Gallios Trading Company, shouted loud enough to make the tavern echo.
He always had a booming voice. Dalen chuckled and replied.
“Did you think I’d leave a limb behind?”
“Haha! Of course not! A warrior like you must have swept through the labyrinth!”
Volkma waved his hands, his face full of delight, and naturally took a seat next to Dalen. Bourbon, familiar with the routine, poured another drink.
Dalen took a sip of his drink and asked.
“So, what brings you here?”
“Well, you see…”
“I’ll explain.”
It was Sienna. She pulled a chair to the opposite side of the bar table, next to Bourbon, facing the two men.
She clasped her hands lightly on the table and began to speak.
“Do you remember what you asked me to look into? Elixirs, rituals, or spells to enhance stamina.”
Dalen nodded.
Those were the rewards he had set as conditions when selecting commission requests.
At a time when his stamina was severely lacking, he had asked Sienna to look into it, even if it was unrelated to the commission.
“I looked into spells and rituals, but there wasn’t much success. Most of them were either practically impossible to obtain or had severe side effects.”
“I see.”
Indeed, the holy tattoos of the Paladin Order were an exception; most rituals or spells that enhanced abilities demanded excessive sacrifices.
In truth, the sacred tattoo was something you could only dream of acquiring unless you offered a chest full of gold coins, and even then, it wasn’t guaranteed.
“So, I focused on herbs. I looked into the orchards in Philophon, the herb growers in the western district, and the merchants.”
“And that’s where I struck gold, so to speak.”
Volkma, his face flushed from the drink, laughed heartily, his glass half-empty.
What? Is he already drunk?
“Have you heard of a small town called Revivach in the southwest of the city alliance?”
“I’ve heard of it. Isn’t it famous for high-quality herbs from the nearby mountains?”
Revivach.
A small town on the far southwestern edge of the city alliance centered around the labyrinth city of Falcion. It had a population of just over five thousand, but it was a place that became significant in the game due to a major event.
Volkma nodded enthusiastically at Dalen’s words, his voice booming.
“Exactly! That’s the place! You’re well-versed in geography too, as expected of a remarkable warrior. Anyway, I’ve come across some valuable information about that town.”
“What is it?”
Dalen asked as he received another drink from the bartender.
The merchant leader, with a sly grin, lowered his voice conspiratorially.
“Heh, don’t be too shocked. Apparently, a colony of mandrakes has been discovered near Revivach, numbering in the dozens!”
The legendary herb that could revive the dying and was coveted by the high mages of the tower!
Volkma, caught up in his own excitement, shouted, while Dalen responded with a slightly skeptical tone.
”…Is that true?”
“It’s true, I swear! I, Volkma Gallios, pride myself on being ahead of everyone when it comes to rumors about money!”
Volkma declared, his face flushed with intoxication. Dalen, with a slightly stiff expression, slowly sipped his drink.
Watching this, Sienna rubbed her temples and added a word of caution.
“Dalen, it could be just a rumor. In fact, it’s likely to be one.”
“But if it’s true, it could be a fortune beyond imagination! Remember, every opportunity comes with risks, and the greater the risk, the sweeter the reward!”
Dalen didn’t respond. He simply placed his empty glass back on the table.
He tapped the glass thoughtfully, lost in his own musings.
‘A mandrake colony in Revivach.’
Dalen knew.
Despite Volkma’s drunken claims, this wasn’t just a baseless rumor.
In fact, if you considered the truth of the rumor, the reality was even more significant than what was being whispered.
The rumored mandrake site didn’t just have dozens; it likely had close to a thousand mandrakes growing there.
But Dalen’s focus wasn’t on the truth of the event.
‘This isn’t supposed to happen yet.’
He knew all too well that this wasn’t just about a bountiful harvest of mandrakes.
Mandrakes were legendary herbs that enhanced vitality and magic.
But they were also monsters that emitted a scream capable of destroying a person’s heart.
‘And the cursed forest of screams, formed by nearly a thousand mandrakes, is…’
The sudden appearance of this cursed forest in the heart of the continent signaled the game’s progression into its mid-phase.
It was an event where the screams of a thousand mandrakes would engulf the surrounding area, turning the town of Revivach into a graveyard overnight.
It was also the harbinger of the Ash Witch, one of the game’s most formidable mid-phase adversaries, beginning her full-scale activities.