Chapter 516: 517. Change of Expectations

“Before Nerosal rose to the dump it is today, a large number of items of interest were taken from its ruins,” the noble began.

Like most of the building material for your city, Dallion thought.

“The practice continued for centuries. Sphere items were discovered, as well as artifacts of greater significance, including the swords that you were entrusted with. The treasures were naturally kept safe and secret in this very city. In the name of the emperor, of course. Some were examined by the Linatol family itself, others lent to the Academy. There was order until the unfortunate incident forty years ago.”

It took Dallion a great deal of effort to remain outwardly calm. Only someone used to extreme privilege could describe a series of civil wars that had torn the province apart as an “unfortunate incident.” The awakened casualties alone went into the thousands, say nothing of the common people. Small towns and villages changed hands so often that they could no longer remember which side they originally supported, or were burned down only to hinder the logistic and resupply potential of one faction or another. The fort Dallion had seen his grandfather storm—in Aspion’s memories—had long ceased to exist, deconstructed by the winning side in the conflict.

“A number of items went missing back then,” the woman hissed. “Treasures, gathered knowledge, artifacts that had been amassed for centuries. Most were sold or given in exchange for support. A few of them ended up being stolen.” She paused, turning her head slightly in the direction of one of her maids.

The servant disappeared, re-emerging moments later, holding a tray with a crystal glass of amber liquid. The noble took a sip, then placed it back on the tray.

“The Abacca World Sword was among the things that disappeared,” she continued.

Abacca? Dallion wondered. That was a strange name.

“It was a present from the Archduke’s grandfather to his wife,” the noble said. “And contained a whole world inside it. Not the desolate mess of the other swords. Unlike them, Abacca was well kept, and even believed to have a number of functioning wonders, as well as the means to create them.”

“That wasn’t what we were told,” March interrupted.

“What did you think you’d be told?” The noble scoffed. “That an extremely valuable treasure was stolen from the Archduke’s treasury by traitors during a stupid civil war? I don’t remember you imperials giving a crap back then. What was the phrase? No interference in internal provincial affairs unless they threatened the empire? You can see how that turned out.”

“You seem quite convinced that the sword is the source of the plague, ma’am.” March stood her ground. “We were told in quite vague terms that we were to explore a sword world item and its potential links to the poison plague and the Crippled Star. If that is not the case, why are we here?”

Dallion expected the noble to explode in a burst of rage and shout them out of her mansion. Instinctively, he glanced in the direction of the overseer. The man appeared amused by the entire situation, observing events with a mocking smile. Even the expressionless maids didn’t display any hints of hostility.

“The archduke has been searching for the sword and several other notable treasures ever since their disappearance,” the noble said, after taking another sip of her drink. “Vast amounts of money were thrown to find what was lost. Every now and again, rumors would reemerge relating to the sword, but each time a hunter team would get there, it would have disappeared once more. There even was a mage hired to track the item down at one point. The man was insufferably arrogant, but he did manage to find a pattern in the sword’s movement. The short of it is, that the item was in the possession of someone who was very intent in not relinquishing it. A small fortune was paid to the mage to find both sword and current owners and bring them here. To no surprise, he failed, disappearing without a trace.”

Now that’s surprising, Nil said.

It won’t be the first time a mage has been defeated, Dallion noted.

It would be for a mage hired by the Archduke. Don’t get me wrong, mages fail all the time. However, they rarely are defeated. If there’s one thing they excel at above everything else, it’s self-preservation. For a mage, hired by an Archduke no less, to disappear, he must have been killed.

“A replacement was immediately hired. She kept on following the sword’s movements, though flatly refused any attempts to reclaim the treasure. It was largely thanks to her that we noticed that there was a correlation between the locations of the sword and the plague itself.”

“Naturally, you informed the emperor,” March interjected.

“That is for the Archduke to say. What I can tell you is that before the previous mage disappeared, the sword was sensed in the vicinity of Linatol. If I’m not mistaken, that occurred not much after that whole incident in Nerosal, a year ago. Since then, it has returned here half a dozen times. Three months ago, it completely stopped moving.”

Intrigued, Dallion leaned forward. If what the noble was saying was true, that meant that someone had shown interest in the sword roughly at the same time the Star had set his sights on the one kept in the Icepicker guildhall. Could that have been the reason that a mage had been sent to participate in the Nerosal festival? The man had told Dallion that there were plans for the city, plans that Dallion was not to interfere with.

Two swords, two different parties chasing them for their own reasons? That sounded more than a bit suspicious.

Nil, do you think the Academy might be interested in the swords?

Not impossible, but rather unlikely. As fascinating as world items are, there are far better ways of obtaining them than outright stealing. The Academy prides itself in subtlety and backroom deals. Then again, they wouldn’t openly go against an Archduke, either. It all depends on his plans with the weapons.

“The reason you are here—the real reason—is to retrieve the sword, determine whether there’s a connection between it and the poison plague, and if not bring it here.” The noble concluded.

“And the person keeping it?” March asked. “If he managed to defeat a mage, it might take a bit more than us to take him down.”

“That’s of lesser importance,” the woman waved a hand dismissively. “You’re hired to find and check out the sword. The Archduke’s arranged for the mage he hired to give you more specifics on the location in two days. Spend today and tomorrow resting. I’d like you to be at your best. Hopefully, you don’t let us down.”

The woman finished her drink, then reached to her right. Immediately, a maid placed a book-shaped crystal in her open hand.

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“You’ll be taken to your lodgings,” she said. “Do not take advantage of our generosity.”

“I think I’ll escort them, if that’s the same with you,” the overseer spoke. His voice seemed unnaturally young, as if he’d just come out of puberty.

“If it amuses you.” The noble didn’t even give him a glance, looking at her book.

With that, the discussion was over. The debriefing was nothing like what Dallion had expected. Since he’d become a hunter, he’d seen all sorts of “briefings.” Some used it as a means to haggle for the price of his services. Others used it as a means of amusement, spending days asking about his past exploits. Here, he still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. The information he’d received was adequate—a lot more than he thought he’d be given—and still he was left with more questions than when he came in. By the sound of it, the invisible noble was under the impression that the sword itself was responsible for the plague. Dallion tended to be of a similar opinion. Sadly, he was also convinced that a few things were kept from the explanation. Given how eager the Archduke’s family was to retrieve the item, it was likely it had been a weapon to begin with and had later fallen into the wrong hands.

“You’ll have to forgive the old girl,” the overseer said as he led the group out of the mansion. “There are a few things on her mind. If she didn’t have a high opinion of your skills, she’d never have seen you in person.”

His accent was strange, complementing his unusual voice. Back on earth, Dallion would have described it as mixing elements of Australian and Scottish. Here, it suggested that he had come from further north.

“One thing that she forgot to mention. You’re invited to the Archduke’s weekly ball tomorrow night. You’re expected to attend. Proper attire will be prepared for you.”

“Mercenaries aren’t usually invited,” Euryale said, her snakes moving about slightly.

“True, but things change. The plague has made things rather boring. Nobles don’t leave the safety of the city as frequently as they used to. Any excuse to break the monotony is more than welcome, especially when the people concerned are otherworlders. Just keep in mind that you’re invited, not guests.”

In other worlds, they were told to know their place. Suddenly, the invitation became a lot less special.

Dame Vesuvia was still waiting outside when the group got out. Seeing the overseer, though, she knew that she had effectively been relieved. Wishing them a pleasant night, she mounted her horse and rode to another part of the platform, suggesting that she lived here. As for everyone else, they were led to a relatively small inn located on the first platform. Despite the impressive exterior, the place was a lot less comfortable than Hannah’s inn.

Each of the trio was given their own, albeit small, personal room to leave their belongings, then invited to have dinner in the main room. The food was nice, though nothing special, even if the innkeeper and his staff did everything possible to make them as comfortable as possible. With the decreased number of travelers, every customer was valued.

Dallion tried to engage in a bit of small talk with the furniture present, but didn’t learn overly much. The story was pretty much as he expected it to be: new visitors and a lot of oversight.

After close to an hour, once the group had finished their meals, they had the ability to relax and exchange their thoughts. Of course, the meeting wasn’t done in the open.

ITEM AWAKENING

The inside of the inn changed, transformed into a rather stern room of white metal. Since it looked nothing like most of Euryale’s items Dallion had been in, he could only assume they were in something belonging to March.

“Thoughts?” the woman asked.

“We’re not the first to be sent,” the gorgon replied almost instantly. “We might be a last resort, but I’d rather bet that we’re the cannon fodder.”

“Seems like,” Dallion agreed. “I think they knew more about the link between the sword and the plague that they’re letting on.” Once this conversation was over, he planned to visit Vihrogon to get some more insight on the matter. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they know exactly who’s behind it.”

“That’s not our concern,” March said firmly. “We’re only here to deal with the Sword and not get killed in the process.”

“Going against something that killed a mage doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

“You assume he was killed.”

Dallion arched his brows in a confused expression.

“They only said that he failed and disappeared. He could have quit, or maybe the Archduke killed him himself. Still, you’ll need to be prepared for the worst. If any of you need to level up or improve some skills, do it now. Tomorrow will be too late.”

“I was thinking of exploring part of the city with Dal in the morning,” Euryale said. “We might learn a bit more.”

March gave the gorgon a look reserved for alcoholics who claimed they wanted to visit a pub just to hear the latest news.

“Don’t get in any trouble.”

Reality shifted, bringing Dallion back to the inn.

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