“Hey,” Alycia said as she dropped onto the seat next to Viktor. Her two thick pigtails bounced, swaying back and forth as if they had a life of their own.
“There’s no food for you,” he said.
“I’ve already eaten.” She pouted. “Why did you immediately assume that I came to you for food?”
He tore off a chunk of bread and tossed it into his mouth. “Is there any other reason?”
“Of course, there is,” she replied, her mischievous eyes glancing his way as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I saw my cute apprentice sitting all alone at lunch, so I came to keep him company. Wow, I’m so thoughtful.”
Well, yes, he was eating by himself in the mess hall at the moment. When he arrived at the Guild earlier, Claire had told him that she was busy and would eat with Rhea later, so he should go ahead. As it happened, neither Lucian, Noi’ri, nor Jeanne was around today, so here he was.
Not that it mattered. Whether it was alone or with others, it made no difference to him.
“If you’ve already had lunch,” Viktor said flatly, “then why are you here? Don’t you have work to do at your shop? Oh, I know... Your business has gone bust, right? That explains the free time.”
Alycia frowned. “I haven’t even started yet.” She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “I take back what I said. You’re not cute at all.”
Yeah, you shouldn’t call me that, Viktor thought. The last person doing so didn’t have a happy end.
“So,” he asked, “what do you want exactly?”
Alycia let out a sigh. “To put it bluntly, your sister is worried about you.”
Yes, and water is wet. Seriously, was there ever a moment Claire stopped worrying about her brother?
“And why does that concern you?”
“Well, she came to me and asked for my help. She told me that you were acting strange the past few days.”
“She did?” Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Why you of all people?”
“Technically, you’re my apprentice,” Alycia replied. “People don’t know what happened between us, so they think we’re closer than we actually are.”
Makes sense, I guess.
That day, after the bloody fight with the Reavers in the dungeon, he came home quite late. He had come up with an excuse, and Claire appeared to buy it. But he wasn’t entirely sure whether she was actually convinced or just didn’t want to make a fuss. Now, it seemed more like the latter.
“Tell her that I’m fine,” he said after a long pause. “Yeah, some stuff happened. But I’ll be good again in a few days.”
Alycia nodded. “That’s what I’ve told her. I know that you’re strong, much stronger than what one might expect from a twelve-year-old.”
“You seem to have an awfully high opinion of me,” Viktor said with a chuckle.
“I owe you my life, after all,” the woman murmured, her gaze drifting off to the distance. “I can’t help but wonder where I would have been now if you hadn’t saved me that day.”
Viktor shrugged, stuffing another hunk of bread into his mouth. “Buried deep underground, I guess. That’s where people usually put corpses. And being busy decomposing.”
“Eww... How can you say that while eating?” Alycia turned away, her face twisting into a grimace. “Not cute. Not cute at all.”
Viktor continued chewing, ignoring her.
“But... it’s so like you...” the woman said. “Every word you told me that day was very unkind. But...”
“But what?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, then smiled at him. “Nothing, really.”
What? Viktor furrowed his brow. What is she trying to say?
“By the way, do you happen to know where my firebomb is? The one that I showed you last time? The bomb and its detonator are missing. I’ve looked everywhere but still couldn’t find them.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Oh, I totally forgot about that.
“Nope,” Viktor said through a mouthful of bread, as if the matter had nothing to do with him.
“I see.”
This could get complicated. Even though he doubted that Alycia would suspect him, a missing firebomb was a problem too serious to ignore. She would not let it slide, and she would turn the whole town upside down to find it, which might lead to consequences he could not foresee. Maybe he needed to do something before the situation got out of hand—
“Oh well,” the woman said nonchalantly. “Not the first time I’ve lost some explosive anyway.”
I definitely do not want to go anywhere near that shop.
Viktor continued his meal, while his eyes wandered across the mess hall. Most of the people here were adventurers, as the Guild employees were, just like Claire and Rhea, still working. He had heard the newly appointed Guildmaster would be arriving in Daelin soon, so everyone was busy getting all the documents in order.
So Calyssa has lost her bid for the position, huh?
While it didn’t really matter to him who the next Guildmaster would be, he needed to know whether they were Clovis’s creature. If that were the case, he would have to keep a close eye on them and find out whatever scheme they were plotting.
Clovis.
The fat Guildmaster from Iskora, and the most likely suspect behind the recent invasion of the Dungeon Reavers. But what was his deal? And was he really the one calling the shots, or was he himself also someone else’s underling? Joshua had talked about Bjorn working for a queen. Who was she? Was she the current Queen of Brefjord?
As Viktor mulled over the possibilities, a new arrival caught his eye. A warrior woman had just entered the mess hall. And she was unmistakably from the North, something that he could tell at first glance.
The woman appeared to be in her forties. She was very tall, a full head above the man next to her. She must have been beautiful when she was younger, yet now her features had been tempered and hardened by age. Her golden hair, streaked with strands of silver, was tied into a long, thick braid that rested above the deep brown tabard she wore over her armor. She had a broadsword on her hip, and her fingers never strayed far from its grip as her watchful eyes scanned the room.
The woman’s companion was the opposite of her in every single way. He was a young man, perhaps not even twenty, but his sickly pale skin and hollow cheeks made him look much older than he actually was. Long, dark hair fell in unkempt strands, partially obscuring his face, and through that curtain, the man’s sunken eyes erratically darted from one corner of the room to the next. Those were the eyes of a prey, ever fearful, always ready to flee at the faintest sign of danger. How could someone this weak and afraid be an adventurer?
Under normal circumstances, Viktor’s focus would be on the warrior woman, while the sickly-looking man hardly deserved a second glance. After all, she was the one with the commanding presence, while the man was little more than a shadow, almost invisible next to his towering companion. Yet, somehow, his gaze was slowly, gradually, drawn to him.
What is this feeling?
Viktor rose from his chair. “I’ll go to see Claire,” he told Alycia. With that excuse, he would leave the mess hall and, in doing so, naturally pass by the two newcomers. As he approached, they parted to allow him through, and he walked between them toward the door.
And at that very moment—
Oh, how nostalgic.
Such messages were all too familiar, something he had seen so many times in the past, whenever he used his power—his Thaumaturgy. However, after his reincarnation, it only appeared exactly once, on the day he had first awakened. It had informed him that his power had been stolen by the Six Heroes upon his death, split among them, and then passed down to their successors over the past three hundred years. In order to get it back, he would need to hunt down those who currently held the power.
More than two months had passed since that last message, and now, it had shown up once again. The wording was still as weird as ever. System? Key? Module? What the hell were those supposed to mean? It mattered not. It was easy to decipher the actual meaning from those obscure terms and cryptic words. One of the Six Heroes’ descendants was here, right next to him, and to reclaim what was rightfully his, he just needed to kill him.
That explains the strange feeling I had when I saw this sickly-looking man.
As Viktor walked out of the mess hall, he turned and glanced over his shoulder at the two adventurers. The young man was his target. He had to die. And the warrior woman, his companion, might be an obstacle that would need to be eliminated as well.
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