Avalon, Part Two

"Come on, sit down."

Avalon steered me into a tavern and dropped into a seat by the window. It was a six-top, three to a side.

They'd already been drinking hard. Empty bottles and cold, half-eaten plates crowded the table.

"Please, sit here."

"Sure."

Izabella slid in first and offered me the place beside her. A Wind Mage — a rare class, and one that lit up every greedy nerve I had. I wasn't about to turn that down.

"Then this one shall sit here."

The moment I settled in next to Izabella, the fairy named Hisoka took the seat on my other side. Where Izabella was white-haired, Hisoka was a study in black.

The arrangement fell out naturally enough: Razle and Kanna flanking Avalon, Izabella and Hisoka flanking me, the two sides facing each other across the table.

Well. Somehow I've been surrounded.

Except for the empty space at my back, Avalon's entire party had boxed me in. If the man snapped and decided to put a blade in me, I would have nowhere to go.

Not that anything like that is going to happen.

Even a lunatic with a class like Demon-Worshipping Swordsman wouldn't attack someone he was about to run a mission with.

"Bwahahaha!"

...Right?

Those snake eyes of his were locked on mine, and I felt a tiny — just a tiiiny — flicker of concern. Lunatics earn the name by doing things that have nothing to do with common sense.

"Well then, let's have a drink! Hey! Same spread as before, the whole thing!"

"Yes, sir! Shall I clear the plates?"

"Do it. And bring the beer cold this time!"

"Right away!"

Avalon bellowed, and a waiter came hustling over to strip the table clean. In seconds the wreckage of dishes and dead bottles was gone.

"Anyway, why the hell were you wandering around by yourself looking so pathetic? Where'd you stash your fairies and that companion of yours?"

He'd mentioned not just the fairies but my companion — Carnisia. He'd only glimpsed her, and he still remembered. Either the man had a steel trap for a memory, or his eye for detail was sharper than it looked.

"They said they were wiped and passed out cold."

"That so? Stamina stat's lower than I figured."

"It's not that low. Anyone gets tired after a long ride in a carriage."

"Fair enough."

Avalon nodded, apparently willing to grant the point.

"Still, though—"

"Your drinks first, gentlemen."

Whatever Avalon had been about to say died as the waiter returned with the beer he'd ordered. Frosted mugs landed in front of each of us, beading with condensation. They looked ice-cold.

"....."

The hell is his problem?

Avalon's reaction was off. Those snake eyes slid off me and fixed on the waiter — empty of anything that resembled a feeling, and all the more dangerous for it.

The waiter, being an ordinary man, registered none of it. He told us to enjoy and disappeared back into the kitchen.

What's his deal? Don't tell me he's pissed because the waiter cut him off?

The man hadn't interrupted on purpose. He'd just been doing his job. Getting angry over that made no sense — and yet, stacking the wrongness rolling off Avalon against every other ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crazy thing I'd already seen from him, I could believe it.

"....."

Avalon kept staring at the kitchen door.

"What are you doing? Come on, drink."

"Bwahahaha! Right! Let's drink, Alan!"

Only when I lifted my mug did he look away. He burst out laughing and knocked his glass against the one I'd offered.

"So, Alan. What mission did they give you?"

"Me?"

I glanced around before answering. Someone could have been listening. Nobody looked like they were, but I dropped my voice anyway.

"My job was to eliminate the lord of Pista Castle."

"Whoa! I was wondering what kind of bastard killed the Beast King — that was you?"

I'd whispered it on purpose. There was nothing to gain from other people hearing. Avalon, oblivious, practically shouted his admiration.

"Damn, Alan, you're a lot stronger than you look! How'd you even kill the Beast King? No wonder they call you a rookie — and mean it!"

"Hey. Keep your voice down. You want the whole room to hear?"

If anything, he got louder, like he wanted an audience. The beer, maybe.

Either way, the fact that I'd killed the Beast King was not a story I needed circulating. I warned him again.

"What? Bwahahaha! Ah, so that's why you were whispering like a little girl — you were scared somebody'd hear? This bastard... you're more of a chickenshit than I thought! How'd a guy with nerves that thin actually kill the Beast King?"

"Would you just — keep it down, I said."

"Please do not worry, Master Alan. No one can hear a word of what the two of you are saying."

"Huh?"

Izabella, seated at my elbow, laid her hand over the back of mine as she spoke.

If she had something to say, she could have just said it — why grab my hand? Not that I minded. Her skin was soft, the hand of someone who had never done a hard day's work in her life.

"Wind Barrier is currently active. Nothing either of you says will leave this table."

"Wait — Wind Barrier? When did you even cast that?"

"A moment ago. So please, speak freely. There is no need for concern."

"....."

She told me to relax. I felt the opposite.

Izabella was sitting right next to me, and I hadn't noticed her use a skill at all. Did becoming a Wind Mage let you hide your mana that completely?

...I need to revise my estimate of Avalon's party upward.

They were stronger than I'd given them credit for. I adjusted the rating accordingly.

And the fact that she can fire off a skill so quietly I don't even feel it... I like her even more.

If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that skill hadn't been Wind Barrier — if it had been something meant to kill me — I would already be dead. I'd wanted Izabella because Wind Mages were rare. Now I wanted her for a much hungrier reason. If the chance ever came, I was going to make her mine. No matter what it took.

"Tch. You could've said so from the start. I just made an ass of myself."

"My apologies."

"Bwahahaha! She used a skill right next to you and you didn't even notice! How do you plan to survive being that dull?"

"You're not wrong. I really didn't catch it at all."

I wondered if he was mocking me, but there was no malice in Avalon's eyes. There was nothing in them at all — the same flat, sensationless stare as always. I just nodded and let him have the point.

"Don't take it too hard. You're still 5-Star, right? Izabella's 6-Star. Makes sense you wouldn't feel it."

Ah. So that's how it works.

Another piece of this world's common sense, courtesy of Avalon: you cannot detect a skill used by someone of a higher rank than you.

"Anyway, tell me how you killed the Beast King. Among 6-Stars, he's supposed to be one of the strongest. How does a 5-Star pull that off?"

"I used my damn head."

I told him how I'd done it.

Took the Beast King's little brother hostage, lured the man into a dungeon, wore him down with monsters, split him off from his fairies, then jumped him with my whole party. That was the story.

About ten percent of it was true. The other ninety was a lie from top to bottom.

The only reason I'd been able to kill the Beast King was my mythic-grade class — Uroboros's Avatar. If I'd grown the way every other Master did, on a basic class, I never would have stood a chance.

Uroboros's Avatar was an unfair atrocity as far as every other Master and Fairy in the world was concerned. An ability that had no business existing. The second I said it out loud, people would start lining up to kill me.

"Holy hell! You lured the Beast King into a dungeon to take him down? You know how dangerous that is? You or your fairies could've died!"

Avalon knocked back nearly half his beer in one pull, openly impressed.

"If you want to kill someone stronger than you, you take that kind of risk."

"Bwahahaha! See, this is why I like you! The second I laid eyes on you I got this jolt — this bastard is no ordinary ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bastard! Bwahahaha!"

"Your turn. What mission did they give you?"

"Me? I cleared a dungeon."

"You cleared a dungeon?"

I tilted my head. Inside, I was scowling.

Montblanc, you fucking bitch. You sent me to kill the Beast King and you had this guy clear a dungeon? God, I can feel the vein in my neck.

I'd burned through more than thirty thousand gems putting the Beast King in the ground. Sure, every one of my stats had skyrocketed for it — but stats you can raise anytime, just by farming Growth Stones in dungeons.

She tells me to kill the Beast King, and the guy stronger than me gets a dungeon crawl. There was no world in which that didn't piss me off.

"I don't know what kind of dungeon is stuffed full of rats and poison... I genuinely thought I was going to die in there, first time in a long while."

"...Sorry. The dungeon had what?"

"Rats and poison. No regular monsters — just rats everywhere. Well, there were these things that looked like rats that had evolved into monsters. Anyway, whatever used to live in that dungeon, the rats had eaten all of them. And the whole inside was packed with poison."

"....."

Rats. Poison. Harmless words on their own. Put them together and you had a problem.

No way.

"Which dungeon did you clear?"

"The one near Hypotry. Name was something like the Four-Armed Tribe Village, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I think?"

"....."

The Four-Armed Tribe were humanoid monsters with four arms. Not that the tribe mattered. What mattered was where the dungeon sat.

Hypotry.

Hypotry was the city where the plague tearing through the eastern territories burned hottest. Step into that zone as an ordinary person and you wouldn't make ten paces before you were coughing up blood and dying. Even Masters and Fairies below 6-Star poisoned out in minutes.

And he'd cleared a dungeon next to that city.

Thank you, Lady Montblanc. Our Montblanc is an angel. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty.

I offered a silent hymn of praise to the woman who had not sent me there. Our Montblanc really was the best.

"You cleared a place like that?"

"Yeah. Didn't get a single minute of rest from the second we stepped inside. I kept killing rats and they just kept coming... I got so pissed I ran straight to the boss room, beat the boss monster into the floor, and walked out."

"The boss monster."

"Hm? What?"

"What did the boss look like?"

"The boss? What the hell was its name... Ratguji, I think? Big bastard. Eight arms. Face like a rat's head."

"....."

Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me.

I slumped back in my chair, the fight gone out of my face.

The boss's name matched what I remembered. Eight arms didn't — I remembered it differently — but that I could let slide. The rat's head was what counted.

Ratguji was one of the most repulsive monsters in Fairy Masters, a thing with a truly unhinged design. Most of the time it sat quietly as a severed rat's head. The moment a living creature came close enough to eat it, it launched itself, latched onto the creature's skull, and chewed the head down to nothing. Then it slotted its own rat head into the empty space and piloted whatever body was left. That was the lore. Every Ratguji in the game looked different except for one constant: the head was always a rat's.

And Ratguji appeared in exactly one place. A Relay Dungeon. Specifically, the dungeon belonging to one of the raid bosses —

Pestilence.

Which meant.

I have to fight a raid boss already?

The thing that had poured plague across the eastern territories was none other than Pestilence — one of the Twelve Betrayal Beasts that Nemea so viscerally despised.