Three Guests

Imperial law strictly dictated that any transaction involving offensive artifacts had to be brokered through the Pioneers Guild.

With the Empire locked in a perpetual war of conquest, preventing potent relics from falling into enemy hands was a matter of vital imperial security.

"Truth be told, folks say the only reason His Imperial Majesty is so obsessed with the western frontier is because of artifacts," Loty explained, his face flushed with excitement after being dragged away from his masonry work. "The war's been dragging on for over a century, right? If someone manages to unearth an ancient weapon of mass destruction, unifying the entire continent wouldn't just be a pipe dream anymore."

Just as he said, relics played a massive part in the frontier's expansion. One needed only to look at how lavishly archaeologists were treated and how vast the relic trade had grown to see the truth of it. A land where striking gold on a single relic could rewrite a pauper's fate overnight—that was the Demonic Borderlands. Small wonder Loty was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Reed asked, his own chest tightening with nervous excitement, "Iseline, is that weathered notebook really worth so much?"

The antique knickknacks recovered from the chest, like the gemstones and silver candlesticks, were undeniably valuable, but hardly life-changing. Yet the worn notebook buried beside them seemed to hold far more significance than any of them had anticipated.

Iseline nodded vigorously.

"The Pioneers Guild brought in a guest archaeologist to decipher it. According to him, the contents are downright fascinating. We might just have a chance to sell it for an absolute fortune."

Fascinating contents? Reed's curiosity flared. Having witnessed the subterranean aqueducts firsthand, he was already thoroughly awed by the ancients' engineering prowess. What kind of people had they been? What lost arts and arcane mysteries had they commanded? To Reed, who harbored a deep reverence for learned scholars, it was an irresistible subject.

Before long, they arrived at the Pioneers Guild East Gate Branch. The moment the trio stepped through the entrance, an attendant guided them straight up to the second floor.

"I've been expecting you," Smith Leak said, leaping to his feet to welcome them. He gave Reed a subtle nod, which Reed returned with a respectful dip of his head.

Smith's office already held another guest: an elderly man with wild, tangled hair and bloodshot eyes, reeking of damp earth and stale dust. He was hunched over the notebook with a magnifying glass in hand. Evidently, this was the scholar invited by the guild.

Smith cleared his throat politely. "Ahem. Sir, our guests have arrived."

"Hm?"

Glancing their way, the archaeologist grunted, "You lot managed to dig up quite the intriguing scrap. Lucky rascals."

Skipping pleasantries and introductions entirely to cut straight to business was hardly a mark of social grace, yet that very brusqueness inspired confidence. The Pioneers Guild would never have engaged such an eccentric unless his competence warranted it.

"Could you tell us what it says?" Reed asked.

The archaeologist gave a curt nod. Clearing his throat, he smoothed down the parchment and traced the ancient glyphs with his eyes before opening his mouth.

What the scholar recited in a rhythmic cadence was a poem—a verse extolling the majesty of the Mage King and mourning the desolation left in time's wake. He closed his eyes, thoroughly drunk on the resonance of his own recitation, leaving Smith to step in with an explanation.

"The Mage King was a monarch who once ruled the ancient realm. True to his moniker, he is believed to have been an incomparably powerful sorcerer."

"I see."

"Does that mean this is the king's relic?! Is it?!"

The one to answer the impatient Loty was the archaeologist himself.

"It is a clue leading toward the King's Secret Treasure."

"...The King's Secret Treasure?"

"The ultimate legacy the Mage King left behind before his demise. Seek the King's Secret Treasure, and all the magic, knowledge, and sovereign power of this world shall be yours. Whosoever claims it shall reign supreme over all mankind."

Loty pulled an unconvinced face. "Uh... isn't that just some old fairy tale?"

"Ignorant fool! The King's Secret Treasure is no hollow legend! Do you think our warmongering Emperor is an idiot to sink endless fortunes into carving out this western frontier?!"

Loty recoiled at the sudden roar, while Smith interjected with a pained grimace.

"Sir Partell, please, mind your tongue..."

Only then did the old scholar pull himself together. Lax though the Demonic Borderlands might be compared to the imperial capital, publicly disparaging the Emperor was an invitation to the gallows.

"Ahem. In any case, the King's Secret Treasure is real. And scattered throughout the ruins across the borderlands are clues pointing the way."

"Then this poem is one of those clues?" Reed asked.

Partell nodded. "More precisely, it is a clue... to a clue. Ancient records say that by uncovering the three great primordial cities, the resting place of the King's Secret Treasure will be laid bare. This particular record is a lead on one of them: the 'Sky City.'"

"Sky City... Is it a place like Morasil?"

"Ha! Morasil cannot even begin to compare! To the ancients, Morasil was nothing more than a rustic provincial outpost."

"Good grief..."

To think this towering, magnificent fortress-city of Morasil was once considered a mere backwater village. The sheer scale of ancient civilization was unfathomable. And the secret treasure left behind by such giants...

To claim all the knowledge and magic under heaven!

Curiosity and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ambition flared brightly in Reed's eyes. Observing his expression, Partell gave a dry chuckle.

"Interested, are you?"

"Yes!"

"Then pay me a visit sometime. I never turn away those who thirst for knowledge."

Smith adroitly seized the opening to steer the conversation back on track. "Now then, let us discuss the disposition of this relic. Master Reed, and esteemed guests. Sir Partell wishes to purchase this notebook."

"The Archaeologist League formally wishes to buy this journal. I assure you, I will pay a fair price."

The scholar's name was Partell, a senior member of the Archaeologist League. His offer sounded more than reasonable. To Reed, it mattered little who bought it so long as the coin was good. Reed gave his nod, and Iseline and Loty quickly agreed.

Smith immediately took the reins to negotiate the price directly with Partell.

"You ought to offer at least five gold coins. After all, this is a clue directly tied to the King's Secret Treasure."

"Hmph. Do you take me for a novice? Clues like this aren't one of a kind. Five gold coins is preposterous. Three!"

"High-profile figures have taken quite an interest in such artifacts lately. You've heard, haven't you? House Evergreen has been scouring the market for relics recently."

"Urgh..."

At the mention of House Evergreen, Partell instantly fell silent. Reed leaned over and whispered to Loty, "Who is House Evergreen that he can't even say a word?"

"Whoa, you... you really don't know anything, do you?"

Loty wasn't mocking him; he was genuinely flabbergasted. Feeling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sheepish, Reed rubbed the back of his neck.

"They're a legendary martial lineage. There are two loyal pillars His Imperial Majesty trusts above all else: one is our Governor of Morasil, and the other is Duke Evergreen."

"Ah..."

"Whew. That's basic common knowledge, kid. I'm going to have to sit you down for a proper lecture one of these days."

"Thank you, haha." Reed gave an awkward grin. Loty might act dimwitted at times, but he possessed a broad pool of knowledge and surprising refinement. Thanks to him, Reed had picked up yet another crucial piece of the world.

While the two whispered, the bargaining reached its conclusion.

"Four gold coins. Not a copper more, or my budget is ruined."

"How does that sound to you all?" Smith asked.

"We're completely satisfied with that," Reed answered.

Smith needed to stay on Reed's good side while keeping a solid rapport with Partell, so the transaction settled cleanly at an agreeable middle ground. Four gold coins for the notebook alone. Liquidating the remaining antique chest and silver decor brought in another four gold coins, yielding a total haul of eight gold coins.

Eight gold coins from uncovering a single relic cache!

Compared to the slums, where men slit each other's throats over a single tarnished copper, this felt like an entirely different reality. It also driven home why so many desperate mercenaries threw their lives away scouring the subterranean sewers.

"Gold coins!"

"Real gold coins..."

"Gold..."

The three stared blankly at the glittering coins laid before them. Gold had an undeniable allure that made anyone beam just by looking at it, and smiles crept across all three faces in unison.

"Now then, about splitting the share..."

"Um, I'll waive my portion," Reed said quietly.

"What?!" Both Loty and Iseline gaped at him.

"I already claimed this, after all." Reed lifted his iron shovel, his fingers lightly brushing over the primordial rune etched into the metal.

The Rune Scroll. Under normal circumstances, it would have fetched by far the highest sum among everything in that chest. Offensive artifacts and military gear commanded astronomical prices on the imperial market. Yet Reed had been forced to expend that priceless scroll on a battered iron shovel to survive an ambush. While the shovel could theoretically be sold, merchants would surely lowball a custom weapon, making it far wiser to keep it for himself.

Even so...

I can't pocket something that valuable and act like nothing happened.

Internally, Reed felt the sting. Forfeiting gold coins was agony. He had so many expenses looming—he desperately needed to buy magic grimoires, for one. If he chose to be shameless, he could have demanded his third. He could have argued that he had saved their lives, or that they had all agreed to use the scroll in that desperate moment. But he refused to stoop to that. Reed genuinely liked both of them and wanted to preserve that trust.

"I essentially walked away with a magical staff, so if anything, I ought to be paying you two extra."

"Are you truly certain?" Iseline asked, wide-eyed. "We only survived because of you, Reed. Honestly, I wouldn't mind giving you my entire share!"

"Listen to her, kid. You're young, so maybe you don't get it, but this is a serious fortune. Are you really alright with this?"

"I'm completely, truly fine."

"...Then why are you stammering?"

Damn it.

Truthfully, he was not fine at all. His resolve wavered every time the radiant gleam caught his eye. When Iseline offered her entire share, he had nearly blurted out, Really? You mean it?

Reed inwardly cursed his own petty greed. Still, biting down on his impulses, he successfully yielded the gold to the two of them.

With their business settled, Reed bowed politely to Smith.

"Thank you for your help today."

"Not at all, not at all. It was my pleasure."

"And Mr. Smith... there is something I need to discuss, but..." Reed paused, glancing around. Did Smith know that Raphal was secretly a demon worshipper, or at least enslaved to one? This was hardly the right setting for such a dangerous topic. Catching sight of Iseline and Loty, Reed finished smoothly, "We can discuss it another time."

"Haha. In that case, I shall make sure to brew some proper black tea for your next visit."

Having concluded their business at the Pioneers Guild, Reed and Loty bid farewell to Iseline and turned their steps back toward the Stonemasons' Union.

"Alright! Now that we're flush with coin, tonight's dinner is going to be an absolute feast! My treat. You free tonight?"

"If I'm not, I'll make time. It's free food, after all."

"Loty. Buy me food too. Free food," Shaka grunted from behind.

"Good grief, like master, like slave... Fine, fine! I'm going to drop by my place first. What about you, Reed?"

"I'm heading to the training yard to practice some more."

"You really never stop, do you? Guess that's what it takes to be a mage. Don't be late!"

Reed saw Loty off and headed toward the back courtyard to resume his magic practice. However, an all-too-familiar figure was pacing back and forth before the entrance of the Stonemasons' Union. A man wearing a stylish bycocket hat: Harlock, the frontier courier.

Spotting Reed, Harlock strode over immediately.

"Harlock!"

"Long time no see, kid."

"Were you waiting for me?"

"I just got back to Morasil myself. Dropped by on my way through. You asked me to look into something, remember?"

"...I did."

Not long ago, Reed had paid Harlock a silver coin to gather intel on the Black Blade Syndicate. Now came the return on that investment. Reed swallowed hard, tension prickling at his throat.

"First off, the Black Blade Syndicate is completely finished. Turns out the girl they snatched happened to be the daughter of House Evergreen."

"House Evergreen?"

The very name he had heard just moments ago. One of the greatest noble houses in the Empire? Reed instantly remembered the terrified, sniffling girl kidnapped by Idiot Joe, eyes brimmed with tears.

That snot-nosed brat was someone that noble?!

Reed combed frantically through his memories of that day. If he recalled correctly, he had spoken down to her casually and even teased her for being a scrawny runt...

Cold sweat broke out across Reed's forehead.

"Whoa there. You sick? Why are you sweating like a pig?"

"N-No, it's nothing. So... what happened to them?"

"House Evergreen enacted bloody vengeance. They rounded up every syndicate bastard they could get their hands on and spiked their heads outside the city gates. The vice-leader and nearly all the high-ranking officers are dead."

What a relief. But Reed, sharp as ever, caught the subtle hitch in Harlock's words.

"If the vice-leader died... what about the boss?"

Harlock shook his head grimly.

"That's the thing—he slipped away. House Evergreen's pride took a hit, so they've been turning every stone, but they haven't caught him yet. But if you ask me... the only place someone could run to escape the reach of a ducal house like Evergreen is..."

Reed let out a heavy sigh.

"Nowhere except out here in the West."

"Bingo. For all we know, he might have already dug himself a burrow right here in Morasil. I don't know why you're asking about those thugs, but keep your eyes peeled. If you ever need another favor, you know where to find me."

"Thank you. This was an enormous help."

"I should be thanking you for the silver coin."

Giving Harlock that silver had been worth every copper. Discovering House Evergreen's involvement and learning that the syndicate's boss was still breathing were vital pieces of intelligence.

The Black Blade Syndicate...

On the surface, they were an ordinary slum gang: extorting protection money, running crooked dice tables, kidnapping the weak—standard slum filth. But their boss was a different beast entirely.

Before the Black Blade Syndicate rose, multiple gangs had divided the slums, clashing and cooperating to exploit the helpless. Then, one day, an outsider strolled into the slums. Over the course of three days, that solitary man hunted down and slaughtered the leadership of every single syndicate.

Dozens of ruthless, seasoned thugs, wiped out by a single man!

From that bloodbath onward, the man became the living nightmare of the slums. Gathering the shattered remnants under his heel, he forged a single syndicate: the Black Blade Syndicate.

And that monster is still alive. What's worse, after evading House Evergreen, he might be tracking me down.

The hairs on Reed's arms stood on end. He felt as though a cold, invisible blade were hovering inches from his throat. He had never even seen the boss's face, which only made the unseen terror worse.

Reed squeezed his eyes shut, then snapped them open.

"I can't just sit here waiting."

He began to walk. He had to do something. Though he had no concrete plan, staying still felt like rolling over to die.

"Today. Many guests," Shaka murmured from behind.

Reed offered a bitter smile. It was true. What a strange day it had been. So many visitors seeking him out. Iseline had brought good news. Harlock had brought bad news. Was today blessed, or cursed?

Lost in thought, Reed failed to mind his surroundings—until a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Stop, Reed."

Shaka's grip was ironclad. His usually indifferent voice was taut with unprecedented tension.

The lizardman pointed ahead. Standing at the far end of the alley, cloaked in the lengthening twilight shadows, was a lone man.

"Oh? You're finally here."

"...?"

"Are you Reed? The one they called the Gravekeeper back in Asterritz?"

It was a gentleman sporting a trim, dignified mustache. Strapped to his hip was an extraordinarily long sword—so absurdly long one wondered if it could even be drawn cleanly, yet the thought died before it could take root.

Presence. A suffocating pressure radiated from the man's frame, an overwhelming aura belonging solely to the absolute apex of warriors. The man standing before them was on an entirely different plane from the rabble Reed had faced until now.

How many people had he slaughtered? A hundred? Two hundred?

An icy sharpness hung about him that only a master executioner could possess. Reed tasted the metallic tang of death in the air.

It's him. This man is the boss! He's putting on an amiable face, but he came to kill me!

"Hm? Why are you frozen stiff like that?" the gentleman asked mildly.

Who else could possibly reek of blood to such a terrifying degree? Even Reed, who usually remained unnervingly calm in the face of death, couldn't suppress the cold dread seizing his spine. It was the primal panic of a herbivore cornered by an apex predator.

Yet Reed was the sort whose thoughts accelerated the more lethal the crisis. Desperate to survive, his mind whirred at frantic speeds, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sifting through dozens of desperate gambits in milliseconds.

All the while, the stranger took another casual step forward.

There was no time. The moment he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠closed the distance, Reed was a dead man.

Reed made his choice.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble I went through trying to track you down? Whew. Still, I'm glad I found you like this. Allow me to introduce myself, I am from House Evergreen—"

"Shaka! RUN!!"

What met the genial gentleman's eyes was a radiant blue crystal sphere violently detonating in his face.

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