Anomaly (4) - Eccentric Heart Image Mages
My time at the White Tower wasn't long, but I did pick up one unchanging truth during my stay there. All wizards are insane. Every single one of them, except Zepeto, had a screw loose somewhere. Even the pretentious tower wizards weren't any different. Get a closer look, and you'd see they each harbored their own brand of arrogance and narrow-mindedness. Back then, I just figured that was the average for wizards.
"Huhuhu… That's right… I'm a Heart Image wizard just like you all… Pleased to meet you…"
But no. The average wizard was far, far lower than I'd imagined.
Sunken, deeply shadowed eye sockets and gaunt, skeletal limbs. A limp, dragging drawl and that creepy, vacant chuckle splitting the air as he stared off into nothing. He looked just like your typical back-alley junkie. The way he couldn't let go of the dice in his hand told me everything about his obsession with gambling. If there was a betting pool on whether this guy would dive into the river downstream any minute now, I'd bet my entire fortune on yes without a second thought. The odds would probably be around 1.01.
"Seems like you're in some kind of trouble… Huhuhu."
"No, we're fine. Evel, come here."
I grabbed the dazed Evel and turned my back on the guy. Whether he jumped into the river or got beaten to a pulp by debt collectors on the concrete, it wasn't my problem—but personally, I'd prefer he didn't talk to us.
"Huhuhu… Hold on a moment… There's a reason I approached you two…"
Then the man grabbed my clothes and clung on. For a split second, I considered unleashing Dusty from my left arm, but I held back and turned around.
"…What?"
"Well, we're both rare Heart Image wizards in this guild, aren't we? No harm in getting to know each other's faces…"
The man pointed a bony finger toward somewhere in the lobby. It was the area packed with tables where adventurers sat.
"Huhuhu… Right over there…"
I followed his finger, and there they were—a bunch of total nerds. Why call them nerds? Because in the crammed middle of the bustling lobby, their table was the only one with a wide, empty bubble around it.
"………."
This was it. That thing you saw all the time in my past life's school.
"Let me introduce you… Follow me…"
I trailed after the man toward their table. Honestly, I was curious about the other Heart Image wizards, and it didn't seem like a bad idea to break the ice.
There were three people at the table: a woman with her face veiled in opaque cloth, a neatly dressed middle-aged man, and a young blond guy who looked arrogant and free-spirited, lounging with his chair tilted back.
"Huhuhu… Say hello… These are the new Heart Image wizards who joined yesterday…"
At the man's introduction, all three sets of eyes turned to us in unison.
The blond young man spoke first.
"What do we have here? Diaper-wearing rookies. I am Sigurd de Lavallier. Call me Lord Sigurd. You won't like it if you don't."
True to his flashy name, he oozed aristocratic confidence laced with rudeness. For the first time in ages, a flicker of annoyance bubbled up in me.
Next, the veiled woman spoke. The opaque cloth slowly turned toward me.
"Whisper whisper."
"…?"
I leaned in, wondering what she was saying, and to my shock, she was literally mouthing the word "whisper whisper."
"The young lady says she's pleased to meet you."
The neatly dressed middle-aged man beside her translated.
"Whisper whisper…"
"The young lady says her name is Cassandra."
I looked at the middle-aged man and said,
"Excuse me."
"Yes, speak."
"Did that whole long sentence just fit into those four syllables of 'whisper whisper'?"
To my incredulous question, the middle-aged man nodded solemnly.
"Of course. The young lady's Heart Image is exceedingly delicate and profound. To ordinary ears, it might sound like mere onomatopoeia, but open your heart's ear, and you can fully grasp the grand, benevolent meaning within. Ah, I haven't introduced myself. I am Heinrich, the young lady's butler and a fellow Heart Image wizard."
One weirder than the next.
Anyway, since they'd shared their names first, it was only polite to reciprocate.
"I'm Iris. This is Evel."
Then the gaunt man behind me chimed in with his own introduction.
"Huhuhu… My name is Doal… Nice to meet you…"
"Whisper whisper……."
"She says that since you're newly joined and likely low-ranked, feel free to ask for help anytime."
My gaze naturally drifted to the rank badge hanging around the veiled woman's neck.
It gleamed. A smoothly engraved silver badge. Silver rank.
The minimum requirement for that gold-coin quest I'd just been rejected from.
The Adventurer's Guild ranks totaled seven: Wood, Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Diamond.
I looked at the veiled woman, Cassandra. Silver rank. Not too high, not too low—perfectly middling.
Of course, rank wasn't a perfect measure of skill. As the guild master said, promotion was based on "credit." Especially for Heart Image wizards prone to eccentric antics, their ranks might even be a bit deflated compared to their true ability.
"I just got rejected from a Silver-rank restricted quest. Good pay too. Could you help me take it on?"
I recalled the quest I'd been bluntly denied at the counter. My three gold coins. I was getting them back, no matter what. Maybe partying with Cassandra would do the trick.
But at my request, butler Heinrich stepped forward smoothly.
"Regrettably, that's impossible."
"Why?"
"Separate from the young lady's benevolent will, it's due to the guild's strict rules."
Heinrich folded the napkin corner on the table precisely in half and drew a firm line.
"When a party takes a quest, if even one member falls short of the minimum rank required, the party can't accept it."
Ah, damn. No loopholes after all.
"Whisper whisper…."
"The young lady expresses her regret."
"Then could you lend us some money? We don't even have enough to enter the labyrinth."
"Whisper whisper…."
"The young lady says that's not possible either."
"Why?"
"Whisper."
"The young lady cherishes the flow of the universe and the threads of fate. She worries that lending resources rashly to strangers without deep trust could taint both parties' Heart Images with impurity."
In short, she didn't want to loan money to total strangers she'd just met.
As I clicked my tongue and failed to hide my disappointment,
"Hahaha! Foolish rookies!"
Sigurd, still tilting his chair, suddenly snorted and butted in.
"Not content with riding others' coattails, now you're begging for handouts! Even for mere infants, such arrogant, shameless thinking leaves even I, Sigurd de Lavallier, speechless!"
He tilted his chin sky-high, looking down at me with haughty eyes.
"Know your place, mortal! A Wood-rank thunderbolt-head like you belongs in the sewer corners, chasing rat tails through the muck!"
I stared blankly at Sigurd. It had been ages since I'd heard such pure vitriol.
My eyes drifted to his neck. Everyone else had a rank badge, but not him. Cassandra, Heinrich, even skinny Doal had silver badges. Why was this guy bare-necked?
"What's your rank?"
"Ha! As if some vulgar trinket forged by the lowly could measure my soul's rank! I've long rejected such pathetic labels!"
"Whisper whisper."
"The young lady says Lord Sigurd is Bronze rank."
He's ashamed and takes it off. Maybe I should do the same.
I turned back to Cassandra.
"Then, any way to make quick cash short-term? We're kinda desperate."
"Whisper whisper."
"The young lady says chasing luck is a shortcut to tainting your Heart Image. She recommends starting small with sewer cleaning or lost cat hunts, earning honest pay through sweat."
This woman was useless. Sigh, I feel a reflection essay coming on. Already annoyed by that Sigurd guy, and now even Cassandra, who seemed halfway reasonable, was spouting nonsense. I was about to leave before my mood soured further when,
"Huhuhu… A way to make quick money… I don't know, but Sigurd over there might…"
Doal rattled his dice and casually tossed the idea toward Sigurd.
"The guy's Bronze rank but secretly loaded…"
My gaze snapped back to Sigurd. He coughed awkwardly at Doal's probe, then lifted his chin higher, resuming his smug expression.
"Hmph! Naturally! I don't cling to petty coin, but I know how to seize a fortune in one go!"
He patted his pocket smugly and added,
"But nothing in this world is free! To open the door to truth, you must pay the price. If you whelps crave that golden knowledge, offer equal exchange!"
Ah, my scalp's burning. I paused, thinking it over. After a very brief internal debate, I reached a conclusion.
"…You know equal exchange, huh. I like that too."
With that, I released mana from my left arm and sent it flowing toward Sigurd. Then I spoke lowly.
It was a threat.
"Tell me, and I'll let you live."
His face twitched, then stiffened. Watching that, my pent-up irritation started to fade. Should've done this sooner.
Wizards were all nuts—good words went in one ear and out the other; they just spouted their own crap. Sometimes you had to smash them down hard.
"………."
The area went quiet for a moment. Then I realized—oh crap, had I gone too far in the heat of the moment? Should I take it back? As I hesitated,
"Hahahahaha!!"
BAM! Sigurd slammed his fist down hard enough to splinter the table and shot to his feet.
Gasp, pissed now? Was a real magic battle about to erupt in the middle of the lobby? I tensed up instinctively. Evel picked up on it and gathered mana beside me.
"Excellent—!!"
DOOONG! With a booming shout, a massive scale materialized behind him. It gleamed like it was forged from gold, drawing every adventurer's eyes in the lobby.
Sigurd ignored the stares, gazing down at us imperiously as he threw his arms wide and bellowed,
"Deal struck!!! Young wizard!!!"
Evel and I blinked.
…What the hell is with this guy?