by J. J. Pavlov
Through small-talk with him, I learn that the party is constantly staying at inns and taverns in this city, and they don't have a permanent home anywhere. They sold most of their possessions to begin the life of adventurers, committing fully to that path in life.
I could never do something like that. Well, I was forced into this new life because I unexpectedly and inexplicably died and was reincarnated. Even though I read some blog entries from people doing it, I can't imagine myself in their position.
But now I'm in a similar situation.
We walk around the marketplace to buy supplies necessary for an adventurer's life. The contents of my conversation with Gram grows increasingly casual, although it's usually just him talking, telling me about the kingdom's history and other knowledge a foreigner might enjoy.
My setting is that I can't tell much about where I'm from since I've only seen it from inside my home or through a carriage window when traveling. That's actually quite close to the truth; I didn't get to see much of the country I'm from in this world, except for the city I was born in.
Not like I could tell him that it's Arkaim, the capital of the Demon Continent, though.
"This concludes our shopping trip. Is there anything you want, Miss Marcott?" Gram turns to ask me after he stashes a loaf of cheese wrapped in linen in his backpack. He's so nice to me; I feel like I could have fallen for him if I swung that way.
But this is just like a date right now, isn't it? I'm a high school girl, and I'm on a date with a middle-aged man. Compensated dating? Nothing of that sort is happening!
Hm, this might be an opportunity to get a map of this nation, or of the whole world.
"I would like to taste the specialty of this town." In the end, my stomach is going to win. I have that leather sheet in my backpack, which should be a map. I learned the incantation from Rolan after all, so I'll be able to take a look when I'm alone sometime.
"As you wish." He complies with an exaggerated bow, but I don't mind at all. It feels like we could actually become friends.
The specialty of Hovsgaerden is a sweet pastry called Rjoma. It's filled with a red jam, but it doesn't taste like anything I've ever eaten before. This is the first time I'm eating something sweet since coming to this world, since Maou-mama practically only eats meat, be it from humans or some mysterious creatures.
It's pretty good, and I want more. But I can't just play on his goodwill and make him buy me several more servings. I should have gone with the bard; I wouldn't have had any reservations to ask him. I can picture him buying me a lot of them in exchange for looking at him with upturned eyes.
Well, if I ever make money in this city, I'll come and buy some on my own.
I make sure to enjoy the Rjoma slowly rather than wolf it down like I usually would, while we make our way back to the Dancing Dragon where everyone will meet for lunch. Rolan and Luna went to the church to purify his sword and the crossbow bolt the bard hit the corrupted wulfar with, and the bard went to have said crossbow undergo some maintenance at the bowyer. Basically, everyone else had less work to do than Gram, whose backpack is filled with all the goods we went to buy.
"Hey, there they are." It's Rolan who notices us first and waves us over. The bard is already there, too. There are plenty of seats, but I sit down right next to the leader, just to mess with Luna. Ah, she's so cute when she looks frustrated.
Food is soon served, and the party begins to discuss things while eating. Apparently, Rolan and Luna had the time to take a look at the request board in the guild hall and found something urgent with high pay.
"It's an escort request, to accompany a merchant to Lejren." The leader puts down a piece of paper with notes, but as expected, I can't read a word of it. "It seems the merchant fears that he'll be attacked along the way. He must be carrying some really... 'special' goods."
"Do you know what kind of goods these are? I do not want to become involved in something that may result in a clash with the law." The bard brings his hand to his smooth chin and comments with a thoughtful expression. I didn't expect that he would be the voice of reason, but I should start looking over his flirty attitude and see his competence; to survive in this line of work, you can't be useless.
"Yeah, the request doesn't tell what exactly he's shipping, so there might be some shady business going on." Rolan is pretty good at being a team leader. While speaking, he looks everyone in the eyes and gestures to reinforce important points. "We still have time to think it over. Departure time is at sunrise in five days, since he still has preparations to run until then."
"The merchant wants five groups to guard his caravan, since it will be a total of ten carriages, huh?" Gram reads the notes with his arms crossed.
"Yes, it's quite a big group." Rolan explains and points at a certain line. "We'll be getting horses for the duration of the journey so that we can move more quickly."
"It feels like he has something to hide, do you not think so, too? Why the hurry?" Tilting his head, the bard remarks with narrowed eyes.
"What do you think, big man?" Looking at Gram, the leader asks for his opinion.
"I think it'd be best to find out a little about this merchant first." The big man suggests. "It smells fishy."
"Alright, then let's scatter and gather information about this guy. His name is Sveinn Itkonen. He's known for dealing in luxury products, rare fruits, and expensive spices." Rolan gulps down the last of his ale before grinning. "So why would he have any need to hide what exactly he's transporting this time? There's definitely something going on with that."
"I shall make my rounds among the minstrels." The bard wipes the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief in an overly sophisticated manner and suggests his course of actions.
"I'll ask some friends from the city watch." Gram swallows the last bite of his meal and puts down the knife and fork.
"Alright, then we'll meet back here before nightfall at the latest." Rolan stands up and sets down a few silver and copper coins on the table. He's about to leave when he remembers that I'm still here. "Oh right, what do you want to do, Miss Chloe? You could stay here or in your room."
"What's Miss Luna going to do?" Turning around to the blonde girl, I ask her indirectly. She's been pretty quiet throughout our journey and during dinner last night, so I already understood that she was the silent type - when it's not about Rolan. So when I point the limelight at her like this, she flinches and drops her knife in surprise.
"I... I am going to the magic supply store." She forces down the food still in her mouth before responding slightly out of breath. That sounds like a pretty interesting thing to see.
"Then I'd like to come with you." She stares at me like I'm an alien. Close your mouth; it's unbecoming of a lady to make such an expression, you know?
"You alright with that, Runa?" Her boyfriend actually has the gall to ask her that. Of course, it's not alright with her, but somehow she still nods.
Okay, I didn't expect that. Must be because she's still in shock and just answered without thinking.
"Then let's go. Remember to meet back here before nightfall." With these words, the leader and the two other men stand up and leave to do their parts. Luna remains seated, seemingly still in shock over me unexpectedly wanting to pair up with her, even though our relationship has been anything but good.
I don't actually dislike her; in fact, I enjoy her company, mostly because I enjoy teasing her. Teasing is a sign of affection, after all.
Finally, Luna gathers her composure again and quickly gets up to leave the tavern without telling me to come along. I follow her, as she walks at a brisk pace without even looking back to see whether I'm keeping up or not. In fact, it feels like she would prefer that I'm not.
She wants to lose me in this crowd, doesn't she?
But I've thought of something interesting: Transforming only a part of my body. I change the interior of my nose into the nostrils of a vularen, utilizing my 'bigger on the inside' body to reconstruct it in its en
tirety.
It was a stroke of good fortune that I was accidentally sent to Yagrath that time. I gained a really useful body template in the vularen, which allows me to become a large quadruped with a powerful body and an incredibly good nose.
This way I won't lose Luna in the crowd, even when I can't see her, and can follow her smell. It's quite sweet, and I could just eat her up - no, wait, there's something wrong with that...
Ah, I also smell a man's scent on her. Somehow I seem to be able to distinguish genders instinctively, even though I've never done this before. It must be part of a vularen's inborn ability. In either case, that must be Rolan's smell. Well, it was kind of obvious that she would have that on her.
I keep following her as she weaves her way through the crowded street, losing sight of her several times but always on her trail. You're not going to get away from me!
At one point, she practically runs into an alleyway before spinning around to see if she shook me off. Then she almost lets out a scream upon seeing me standing right in front of her. I obviously did that on purpose.
"H-how?!" She actually asks, without trying to hide that she wanted to get rid of me.
"I just followed your blonde hair." It's not entirely wrong. Her blonde is of a much lighter shade than any others I've seen. It makes me wonder whether she's even a native of this nation or not.
"Uhhh..." Leaning against the wall, she closes her eyes to breathe a few times audibly. Then she sighs and looks at me again.
I smile at her like nothing out of the ordinary happened.
"Oh well..." It sounds like she gave up, as she looks at me with a frown, then walks back out onto the street at a normal pace.
We proceed in silence, but I find that she steals glances at me from time to time. Is there something on my face? Don't tell me the vularen nose is showing on the outside? That can't be, I can't be messing up something that important.
"Uhm..." She's going to initiate a conversation with me? That's unexpected. "Do you like Sir Rolan?"
Woah! Where did that come from? I've only known you all for four days, how could anyone fall in love with someone in such little time?
Ah, must be because of my fake advances on him, with the sole purpose of teasing her. So, that's the impression I gave her, huh? If she just told me that they're a done deal, I'd back off like any sensible person. But I know she can't just do that since she's too shy to say it outright.
Let's mess with her.
"Yes." Ah, that's a nice reaction; she's staring at me with her mouth hanging open again. "He talked to me when I had lost everything in life. He gave me a meal and a warm place when I was starving and alone in the cold. Could any woman not feel that way for her savior?" Alright, I think I just outdid myself there.
Oh, there seems to be understanding in her expression. Is that how you react to your rival in love? Not that I really love him or anything.
"I... I see. But I won't lose!" She declares with a determined expression.
In what? It's not like you haven't rolled in the sack with him already. Why would you feel threatened by a complete stranger who was only expressing her gratitude for being saved by him? Maybe it's the nuance of the word 'like' that she was asking about, which is similar to its Japanese meaning?
Well, I did try to make it sound ambiguous on purpose.
I wonder how old Luna is. She's like an underclasswoman, misunderstanding my relationship with her beloved upperclassman after seeing me talking to him in a friendly manner, only because he's a classmate.
"How old are you, Miss Luna?" From her age, I'll be able to deduce how old Rolan is, too.
"I have seen sixteen summers." The blonde replies. That's young! She's a year younger than I was before I died - and still is when adding the time I've been alive in this new world. But aside from how she acts around her sweetheart, she has her act together.
Now I'm feeling down. She's much more mature than I am, even though I'm older than her. She even has sexual experience, while I haven't even kissed yet!
There's something wrong with this world... it's not me; the world is at fault!
"And you, Miss Marcott?" She suddenly starts to sound a little more respectful and addresses me appropriately, as if guessing that I'm older than her.
Ahhh, don't ask a lady her age!
"We are the same age, then." I couldn't live with telling her that I'm older and later let her find out that she's gotten much further in life than I have.
Wait a second...
While we were talking, we somehow ended up in a shady area. We entered some dark and dirty alleyway where ragged clothes are hung up on lines crossing between houses. There are many boarded up windows behind which I can see people watching us from the darkness.
Why did you bring me here, Luna? Do you want to get rid of me after all? Make some thugs kidnap me and turn me into a sex slave, to be sold to some ugly rich bastard who will do unspeakable things to me?
My fantasy is running wild.
"Here we are." Luna gestures at an inconspicuous door from which the paint has almost thoroughly flaked off, which looks like any other in this alleyway. There is a wooden board with faded letters hung up above it, but I couldn't read what it says even if I understood this language. Still, I can tell that this must be some kind of store, even if it's not in the greatest of shapes.
So, she wasn't trying to do something she would come to regret after all, huh?
Without knocking, Luna pushes open the door. Just when I'm about to follow her inside, the smell of mold and decay waft into my face like a physical wave of curses.
Emergency shutdown of vularen olfactory systems!
I thought I was going to die! I still had the vularen organ inside my human nose, with its enhanced smelling capabilities. Even for a human nose, this is unbearable. Where did you bring me, Luna? Is this the back of an abandoned slaughterhouse, where the refuse hasn't been cleaned up?
"Hm, why is it so dark in here. Is Lady Nightwane out?" Muttering to herself, Luna takes out a handkerchief and holds it to her nose, clearly showing that it's not just me who finds this stench unacceptable.
This name, Lady Nightwane. I can't help but conjure up the image of an old hag who looks like a clichéd representation of a witch, complete with a huge wart on a hooked nose, greenish skin and missing all teeth but one in the front.
My night vision allows me to see in this darkness, so I look around curiously. The place is filled with strange items such as small wooden statuettes, dried pieces of roots and other unidentifiable things. There are jars filled with liquids in various shades, some glowing on their own while others seem to suck away the light surrounding them.
Ah, there's the obligatory one filled with eyeballs. Over there is another one with a wrinkly hand. The one on this side has the fetus of some hairy mammal in it.
Hm, what's this one? The things look like huge, flesh-colored worms. Somehow I'm reminded of that one time I transformed into the human king...
I turn away, banishing the thought from my brains.
This place is screaming of the occult. Well, I guess in this world, where magic and monsters are real, it's just considered a store like any other. I have a mage standing right next to me who's able to conjure fire and lightning out of thin air, so I shouldn't be surprised to see all kinds of strange things used for rituals or as catalysts.
"It's as creepy as ever in here. Ignis." A reddish crystal on Luna's staff begins to glow before a small flame is ignited from thin air right above it. Shaking her head, she looks around and sighs. "Why do dark elves like these strange things...?"
Oi, don't deny my acceptance of this place as normal just like that! I thought these things are what all mages require for their magic studies or something like that.
Wait, did she say 'dark elf'? So these exist in this world, too. It would explain why this place is so dark, I guess? I can spot some oil lamps hanging from roof beams, and while they are not lit right now, they don't look dusty or anyt
hing. Maybe she's out.
Woah!
I almost jump back in shock when my eyes meet with those of someone sitting in a large sofa chair.
But upon closer inspection, I breathe a sigh of relief. I guess I just found the creepiest item in this place. It's a life-sized doll of a young girl with pale skin and medium-length, black hair in a gradient, which turns into ghostly white towards the tips.
Her cheeks look like they were slashed and then stitched together haphazardly, giving her a messy broad smile even as her overall expression remains neutral. The gothic lolita dress and bonnet would typically look cute on a doll of that size; however, in this case, it only serves to increase the creepiness factor. Her exposed forearms are full of stitches as well, and her fingers look like they've been cut in pieces before being sewn back together.
Her big blue eyes are staring into space rather than at me, but somehow I can't shake the feeling that there's life in them.
Hah! The pattern would be that this doll is Lady Nightwane, who transformed herself when she noticed our approach. She's going to jump up and scare the hell out of us any moment now.
"I never liked that thing..." Luna notices that I've been staring at the doll that looks obviously cursed. I don't really mind; it's a design I didn't expect to exist in this world.
"Lady Nightwane, are you there?" The blonde calls out to the store owner.
"Hm, customers?" A male voice from the back of the store remarks. That voice certainly doesn't belong to Lady Nightwane, that much is for sure.
"... huh? What are you doing here?! You were supposed to keep watch outside, you dumbass!" Another male voice, albeit quite the high-pitched one, exclaims, directed at the owner of the previous voice.
Alright, that sounds like trouble.
"Who is there?" Luna asks in a slightly trembling voice. Even as a powerful mage, being alone without a front line can be quite scary. Nobody is here to keep her safe until she finishes chanting, after all.
In response to her reluctant inquiry, two men come through the door that most likely leads into storage rooms. They are carrying oil lamps, which illuminates their rough features and clothes.