Chapter 67
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Where New Culture Takes Root (3)
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The woman's voice was brimming with depth.
If you could turn the word "seductive" into sound, it would probably be her voice.
The crowd was utterly captivated by her, as she sang in a whispery, alluring low tone. Her pronunciation played a big part in it too. With certain sounds, she had a habit of rolling her tongue in a peculiar way, and when that met the melody, it created a unique atmosphere all its own.
- Wooow!
She sang three songs in a row, but the time flew by unnoticed.
Only after the audience's cheers erupted did Dominic snap out of it and start clapping.
She blew kisses to the crowd and promptly vanished below the stage. A new bard took her place and continued the performance.
'A bard of that caliber was here?'
But Dominic couldn't focus on the other bard.
That voice from the woman in the butterfly mask was still echoing in his head.
Even among the fishermen, there was one old-timer who proudly boasted of his days wandering the continent as a bard in his youth.
He'd step up whenever the village had cause for celebration or when he'd drunk enough to get in the mood, but his songs were always a mess—poor structure or lewd lyrics—so Dominic had tuned them out entirely.
"Impressive, isn't she? All those songs were ones Butterfly made herself."
"She made them herself?"
The Old Lord smiled faintly, noticing Dominic couldn't take his eyes off her, and Dominic was shocked all over again.
"Butterfly? ...Don't tell me that's her stage name?"
"Ahem. She always wears that butterfly mask..."
"...Lame."
"Sorry, it's lame."
At that moment, someone in a robe slipped into a seat at their table with a bright grin.
The Old Lord nodded with a smile, so it seemed they'd already arranged this.
"Butterfly here had something she really wanted to say to you."
"To me?"
"Sorry I can't show my face. Didn't want to cause a scene."
She tilted back her robe just enough to flash a grin, revealing...
"...Half-elf?"
...a beauty with skin clearly mixed with desert blood.
"Could we talk somewhere quiet for a bit? If you have time?"
"...I'll come along."
Ian, who had been watching silently, cut in.
"But..."
"The knight can tag along. He seems to be my watcher-slash-bodyguard anyway."
At Dominic's words, the butterfly-masked woman bit her lower lip, looking troubled.
"This concerns the market's safety, so no helping it. But I won't pry into a lady's secrets—I'll plug my ears."
"...?"
Dominic stared at him in disbelief.
"...I think I know what you're imagining, but it's not that, so don't give me that look."
With the Old Lord's permission, the three settled into the staff area of the shop.
Dominic had half-expected Ian to block his ears with his hands and mutter nonsense like "La la la, can't hear you!", but fortunately, he took a perfectly sensible approach.
He activated a magic tool designed to block sound from leaking out.
'But why does he carry something like that around?'
Dominic wondered for a second, then shrugged it off.
Come to think of it, Ian had been stuck to him for surveillance purposes in the first place.
'Guess you need gadgets like that for the job.'
He convinced himself just fine.
"Alright, let's talk. I saw the magic tool's working fine."
With that, she shed her robe, and Dominic felt his heart drop.
He'd been sure she was a beauty from the glimpses in the dim shop, but up close in better light, her looks were the kind that could sway not just a region, but maybe a whole nation if she put her mind to it.
"I'm Rabia."
"...Ah, yes. Miss Rabia."
Seeing Dominic uncharacteristically stammer, her stunning cat-like eyes curved in amusement, golden irises sparkling with delight.
"Oh, sorry. Habit from the academy—we don't use family names there. I'm pretending to be a wanderer right now."
"Pardon...?"
"Let me reintroduce myself. Nice to meet you, Dominic. I'm Rabia Sahar."
"...Sahar?"
"Sahar."
"...Is Sahar a common name in the desert? I know someone with that family name."
Rabia finally burst into laughter at Dominic's words.
"...Good lord. You're really her daughter...?"
"Regretting it now? A beauty like me, with a mountain of gold, might not come knocking again."
She grinned playfully.
So, she was the daughter of Sahar, the desert merchant.
"You didn't come all this way just to snag me, did you?"
"Would I spill everything like this if that were the case?"
"...Then what?"
"I ran away."
It was unexpected, but after the Stonehammer fiasco, Dominic didn't choke up in shock. He just sighed inwardly—'Ugh, another one?'—and let out a deep breath.
Rabia looked more flustered by his reaction.
"You're not surprised?"
"Eh, yeah. Kinda feels like I've got a habit of runaways showing up—should I throw a ritual or something?"
"A ritual?"
"Like a ceremony, but anyway, not important. So, you ran away, and Lord Sahar doesn't know where you are?"
"As if. He knows. Where I am right now."
"So, we can take that as him turning a blind eye?"
"Pretty much. No idea how long it'll last or why he's letting it slide, but for now, he figures my being here is useful."
"What have you been up to here, Miss Rabia?"
"Attending the academy, singing at the restaurant. Just living like you saw. Dad's always been interested in the academy. Probably thinks I'll pick up all sorts of intel while I'm here. Hmm..."
Dominic's eyes narrowed slightly.
He caught the hint she had more to say.
"Cut to the chase. You revealed your hidden identity just to tell me something. Let's hear that first. Family stuff, you handle yourselves."
Rabia cast her eyes down, hesitating.
Her fluttering lashes made Dominic's heart skip too. With a beauty like this right in front of him, it was unavoidable—instinct, beyond mere liking or disliking.
"Lend me some money."
"...Everything you said up till now was a lie?"
"No, it wasn't! Why would you think that?!"
She blurted out casually in shock.
"I ran off in a hurry and I'm broke."
"The academy helps with jobs. Should be pocket money at least."
"I want to put on a show."
"A show?"
Another curveball.
Talking to her felt like chasing something unpredictable.
Dominic gripped his focus and proceeded carefully.
"What kind of show?"
"Imperial entertainments are boring—I didn't realize how true that was. Noble and merchant parties are too stuffy, and commoner music lacks polish."
Rabia sounded genuinely disappointed.
"I love it here. The mild weather, the salty sea breeze, walking without a veil. Everything's perfect... except the music. Life's about booze, stories, and tunes."
She hummed softly, wistfully.
That seductive low voice from the stage began filling the space again.
'If this pans out...'
And Dominic saw potential in her—a new revenue stream, the finishing touch for his healing life.
A realm of talent he couldn't touch himself: art!
Maybe this stunning woman was just the person to fill the gap.
'Right! Can't have a tourist spot without art! That was the missing piece!'
Dominic made up his mind.
"How much?"
Meanwhile, Ian's mind was flooded with hundreds of question marks popping up and vanishing in loops.
Wary of any sudden aggression from her, he kept his eyes glued from close range, but the magic tool muted all sound.
Watching the muted pair cycle through expressions ripe for misunderstanding: playful one moment, tense the next, then averting eyes in shy fluster. Ending with bright smiles at each other.
'What are they talking about?'
As Ian's curiosity peaked, Dominic pressed the button on the magic tool, dispelling the spell.
"See you on your day off then, Miss Rabia."
"Yes, Lord Dominic. Glad I came clean. I'm so excited I might not sleep."
Ian watched the beauty clasp her hands to her chest, breathing deeply with emotion, and Dominic beaming with genuine joy. For some reason, it made his own heart sink.
After she donned her robe and left first, they saw off the Old Lord and headed back to the kitchen.
Ian spoke first.
"What was that about? Something important?"
"Sorry, knight. Promised to keep it secret till things settle."
"...I see. But..."
"Dominic! Human! Market!"
Before Ian could press, a beggar-looking dwarf came sprinting from afar, yelling.
"I'm a genius! A genius! Everyone call me genius! Muahaha!"
Stonehammer's eyes blazed with mania—no stopping him now.
A few apprentices followed, lugging bundles, running hard.
"Stonehammer?"
"Human! Inside, quick! Got something to show you!"
Dominic got the hint.
'Porcelain—finally!'
It had taken twice as long as expected.
Even for a dwarf, innovation wasn't easy. But good news seemed to travel in packs.
"Come to the kitchen."
"Kekeke. Human! See this, and you'll wanna hand over every bottle you've stashed for me!"
"That good?"
"Obviously! Dwarves don't brag about their work!"
Dominic hurried the dwarf and apprentices to the kitchen.
Finally, the bundles unpacked onto the table!
"...Stonehammer."
"Yeah, human!"
"You really are a genius...!"
"Uahaha! Knew you were the human who says the right things!"
The dwarf hooted, but Dominic meant it.
The apprentices unveiled a tea set.
Warm milky-white bodies, ornate handles like jewelry on cups, gracefully curved teapots.
Undeniable porcelain.
This plain-looking dwarf had succeeded.
But Dominic's shock went beyond the smooth, lightweight pure white porcelain—the dwarf had inlaid the set with gleaming golden patterns.
'Gold leafing technique!'
Gold dust mixed with garlic juice, painted to retain its luster on porcelain: gold leafing had arrived.
"One more set, human!"
Another apprentice set down a set blazing with gold and deep cobalt—opulently gorgeous.
A masterpiece worthy of the name.
'Why's Sevres porcelain popping up here?'
This mad dwarf had replicated the 'Royal Blue' glaze made exclusively for the French court.
'If this hits the trade post...'
Dominic's heart raced again.
Days like this kept up, and he might not survive them.