Mortal’s fate

Chapter 7: Chapter 6: Hidden endeavor


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Allan, considering his time, looked at the book in his hand and went upstairs.

Looking at the book in his hands, he lay on a bed. Flipping at the first page were paragraphs of introductory notes. They stated the status, experience, and reasoning behind its writer, Veteran Lundo. The page depicted his military prowess and many achievements. For example, defeating the last dynasty of Crestus island, defending the pride capital of his home against double the number of enemies, and dueling against the Mad God.

“Sounds so exaggerating. I wonder if it’s even true because I’ve never heard of this Crestus place in our history and the rest is so vague. Who would willingly call himself a Mad God?”

On another page were lists of terms with numbers and a table of contents with chapters. It is divided into introductory, lesser, middle, and final parts. Around 300 pages were there.

“Now we are talking. Looks quite detailed.” Allan quickly glanced at the introductory part. Listed there were materials, styles, and types of forging methods for the easiest equipment for beginners. Gloves, bracelets, and reinforced armor were the primary sources for this part of the book.

“Doesn’t sound too complicated. I could do that. The majority made from hard leather and some metal plates tightly wrapped up around vital areas.”

He decided to skip through into a lesser part, which was pretty much the same difficulty. The book was littered with illustrations of steps and techniques. It even went through the basics of wearing armor sets and protective gear. Pages flew by. Perhaps because these drawings decreased the number of texts needed. Allan did not complain. This was by far the most good-looking documentation he has ever seen. It was even fully colored.

On a side, it colorized lists of materials, closest to the real deal, although not in an entirely correct shade. By the time he reached a few dozens of pages into the middle part of a book, Allan finally saw something that picked his interest.

Illustrated, there was a complicated sketch of a mixture of gauntlet and bracelet armor. It comprised what looked like small and thin pieces of steel in the shape of lizard scales. It had a very flexible look with great protection. Fingers were mostly barren, but a wrist guard easily protected them when one was capable of using this effectively.

Below was a list of ingredients.

“Key ingredients, scales of lesser red dragon and leather of lesser Walker of the Forest. Sub ingredients, wire from Stretchy iron and cloth made from Rose Jungle tree.” Allan looked at it, speechless.

“Dragons? Really? Their legend has become extinct a long time ago. What is even the rest? How old is this book?” He looked on. Ignoring this nonsense. “Wait… Why it shouldn’t be true? Father is a walking legend himself. If I don't know about it, doesn’t mean it couldn’t exist somewhere.” Allan realized.

Sighing.

“Father should know more about them, more so than me to begin with. If only he taught me more. He is always so secretive about it.” Allan put away the book. Pondering his next problem.

“Should I secretly follow father? That blade from before weighed a good few dozens of kilograms. And I noticed nothing else that was unusual. I am very curious what will he will do with it. For mister Boris to be worried. It should be a huge transaction or something else.” I also counted only 24 blades in my father’s bag.

Allan thought about it for a while, still undecided. He still needed to keep his promise to finish that sword from yesterday.

“No! I will do it. This opportunity will never come twice.” Finally, bringing forth his resolve, Allan prepared some clothes which he did not wear often. He found a hat and his binoculars and thought about bringing his spy diary with him, so he made a quick sack from a sheet of fabric. He used a thin-looking long sheet of leather to carry it around his shoulder.

After preparing his equipment into a sack. He spent less than an hour upstairs, so he went downstairs to check on his father. Sitting in his office Clayton was sorting some papers to a side.

“Looks like he is done with writing..”

Noticing Allan, Clayton tossed his written documents into a bag and wrapped it up.

“Time is still young Allan, I will get going. It should be around a night after I am back.”

“Don't let the house burn down!” Clayton sarcastically said to Allan. He took his cloak over his vest, so his back had more support. His bag was quite heavy, after all. He took it around his shoulder and left.

Blood rushed through Allan’s vein. Closing the main door with a spare key. He ran upstairs and changed his clothes, took a sack, and rushed from a window. Tossing rope into a nearby bush. Then hurried around the house and entered the street. Glancing left and right.

“Which way?”

Allan crossed the street. Turning his head around. He saw Clayton walking on the right street on the left. His stature and big bag made it quite obvious and easy to spot him. Calming down, Allan tried to hide behind a few people who walked in the streets. Their shop, not located in the busiest part of the city, lacked customers, and not whole people were walking around.

“I will need to be very careful. Like a spy!” Allan hyped himself. He recalled the remark of his father. “Other side of a city. Is it?” He tried to remember the layout of the surrounding parts. After tracking his father for 10 minutes, changing directions a few times, Clayton entered a building on a side.
“Where are you going, father?” Allan thought.

“There is a herbal store for some medicines in this building, if I am right. Father sometimes went here with me when I was younger. It is too risky to go there.” Allan sat on a site of a road, away from it, but in sight of the main door.

After a few minutes. Clayton walked from it and went in Allan’s direction. He quickly hid behind a corner of the building. His father walked by, a few meters away. Allan noticed his bag was slightly smaller.

“That was way too close. I did not think he would choose the same way he came from.” Sweating from this fright, Allan still chose to continue his mission. He also knew that the owner of that underground medicine shop was a good friend of his father.

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“Is he selling him the blades? I thought this was a deal for Boris.” Allan wondered.


Time went by.

30 minutes later, the Central district of the city of Waan. Allan was dozens of meters away from his father. Clayton did not make another visit to the other building.

“We are close to a city's main marketplace. Is he going there?”

The central district was a busy place. Shop for rising a shop here was very costly. Many people wanted to get rich quickly by selling all kinds of goods on a side of this place. There were some underground shops and an even bigger number of vendors. They were around the perimeter of official buildings, with several luxury shops on a side street. Many people were constantly walking through this district.

Clayton went on. Entering one street with vendors. Looking around to the left side, he shoved some people aside without a glance. Allan is still following behind him. His father enters an open stall with all kinds of goods. Materials for forgings, jewelry, and weapons were displayed in the front, with more on the sides. Allan pretended to look at something in a stall from the left side and listened carefully. Noise from people around him made it difficult.

“If it isn’t Bachus Silvian. You old dog. Still selling your old toys?” Clayton laughed as he greeted the man behind the goods.

“Of course I am. They are so beautiful and they are even selling well.” Said Bachus in return enthusiastically.

“Do you wish to buy something? I will make you a great deal!”

“I wish for some timeless hourglass in the shape of two hammers.” Replied Clayton sternly.

The look of a Bachus instantly changed, like a bucket of cold water that was poured on his head.

“I-I never thought you would come back again. The d-deal shall happen.” Bachus stuttered in nervousness.

“What choices do “us“ have left?” Asked Clayton helplessly. He took his bag in his hand and jumped behind a counter. Bachus took blades from inside under the table. Storing them inside a wide wooden box.

“I am thankful and sorry. This transaction will be worth it.” Bachus politely bowed. Clayton jumped back into a street. Bag hanging on his shoulder, significantly smaller than before. Pedestrians, Allan included, were oblivious to this massive transaction that happened in a moment, under the eyes, beneath the table.

Clayton continued his journey. Walking away from the market district in the opposite direction of his home. Some blades were still in his bag.

Sometime later he stopped at a residential part which was right around military and government building's corners. Boris held his work there.
He faced the street and stood by a side restaurant. No pedestrian in sight. Clayton put his free left hand into his pocket. A crunching sound could be heard as shining dust appeared from his retracted hand.

Allan entered the restaurant. Getting closest to his father's position. He hid behind the decorated bush and looked at his father’s back. A gust of wind emerged. A cloaked figure was suddenly standing beside Clayton. In its hand was the rest of a leather bag.

“Transaction complete.” The figure said in a hoarse male voice.

“Give my regards to Empty Lim.” Clayton added. “What about my previews question?”

“Answer is yes. Time is confidential.”

“That is it? So much for your standards. I will let the beast off then.” Answered Cleyton with gritted teeth.

The figure, surprised by what he said, added. “Do not get it wrong. This is just a business.”

“Fuck you. ”

The wind blew up with the figure's disappearance. After a few minutes of standing there, Clayton kept walking as if nothing had happened. Reaching Boris’ place of contract and entering one of the large buildings besides military camps.

Allan was clearly stunned, because he did not get the answers he wanted to hear. Only more questions followed. His father and his deals were not for his understanding. After these 3 visits, he gained nothing in return. Perhaps some information, but what kind would be worth 24 weapons of such caliber? He went back after checking his inability to reach a government place. He walked back to a restaurant and sat there to make a report to his spy diary.

On top of a building, the cloaked figure was silently watching below. His sight stayed in Allan’s position as he slowly got up after finishing his writing and went back home.

He completed his mission with many questions in his heart. It was time to go home and do what he wanted to do since yesterday.

 

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