Read Novel Full Chapter 1974: New Arrivals
Chapter 1974: New Arrivals
Quinlan stared at Black Fang beside the contract boards in Sarthal’s Adventurer’s Guild.
She had just proposed murdering whoever agreed to lead their first expedition, and appeared to be waiting for someone to find a flaw in the arrangement.
Ayame recovered first.
"> <Big sis, could we try completing a single job before we start disposing of our colleagues?>
"> <Why?>
"> <...Now I’m afraid to ask you anything else.>
"> <It was perfectly reasonable.>
Quinlan reached out to rub Black Fang’s shoulder in a calming manner.
This woman was always bloodthirsty, but now that she could finally level up again, her lust for violence definitely increased.
Not that he hated it, not at all. But...
"> <I agree with you, I like that quest as well. But let’s not try to kill whoever we choose right off the bat, shall we? Perhaps we can make valuable connections.>
Black Fang didn’t react.
Seraphiel read.
Aurora replied.
"This one looks worth asking about," Seraphiel said aloud.
"Could you keep hold of it?" Aurora asked. "I’d like to compare the terms with the others."
"Ugh. You weirdos again?"
The voice came from behind Quinlan, carrying a familiar level of scorn.
Marielle stood near the entrance with her staff in one hand. Her chestnut curls had escaped their arrangement around her face, and the flattened patch above one ear suggested her pillow had at least participated in the afternoon.
Rest evidently had not.
Andre stopped beside her with his round shield on his back. He recognized Quinlan’s helmet and closed his eyes briefly.
"That’s just great..." he murmured.
Marielle looked over the women gathered around the board.
"I hope you’ve finished disturbing everyone in your vicinity. Some of us intend to work."
"Did you sleep well?" Lucille asked pleasantly.
Andre made a pained noise. "Goddess have mercy."
His wife answered by pushing past him toward the counter. She produced a badge from beneath her collar and laid it in front of the clerk.
"We need our records transferred here. Marielle and Andre. Grade Three."
Quinlan compared the numeral on her badge with the grade required by the investigation notice.
Aurora had made the same connection. She took the notice to the counter while the clerk checked the couple’s papers.
Quinlan watched the clerk examine the couple’s records. Their grade made them a possibility, although convincing Marielle to work with them would be another matter. He could endure her bitching if it saved them days of picking weeds.
Ayame leaned against his arm while they waited.
"> <If we’re going to ask strangers to take us along, it might be worth showing your face soon. It’s harder to get someone to trust you when they can’t even see who they’re talking to.>
"> <...Yeah.>
She had a point.
Why hide his face at all?
Unfortunately, he still had no idea whether someone here could recognize a Primordial at a glance. [Masked Seat] concealed his standing as a Sovereign, but his face and whatever it might reveal were separate concerns.
He had arrived in Iskaris knowing practically nothing and made rather a lot of decisions as though he knew everything. His family had paid for some of them alongside him.
Thalorind deserved more care than that. A few drunk adventurers being laughably beneath them did not make this continent safe, especially with an actual dragon somewhere above its rulers.
He wanted to learn enough to take the helmet off comfortably.
However, as Ayame had put it, another long stint behind a mask, like his time in the Consortium, held very little appeal to them all.
It was just a temporary caution until they understood the world better.
he replied."> <Soon, hopefully,> he replied.
The clerk returned Marielle’s papers, and Aurora laid their chosen notice on the counter.
"Could we ask about this contract? You mentioned parties joining together."
"The missing expedition?" Behind the counter, the clerk studied it. "Yes. That one permits additional members under a qualified party’s supervision. The leading party must be at least Grade Three, and we need its approval of everyone joining."
"So we’d remain Grade One," Ayame said, coming beside Aurora, "but could participate?"
"On this contract, yes. You couldn’t accept it independently. Your completed work would still go on your own records."
Marielle turned toward them.
"Grade One?"
Her gaze travelled over Quinlan’s armour with considerable satisfaction.
"Well. That explains a great deal."
Quinlan addressed the couple.
"Would you be interested in leading this one? We can provide the additional fighters."
"Hah?" Marielle gasped then began laughing in his face.
"Hahahahaha!"
"I am serious."
"Yeah, that’s what makes this funny. You imbeciles could only dream of working under me." She wiped a tear from her eyes.
At that, a dozen women raised their eyebrows in perfect sync, and the harem chat became quite chaotic.
Unaware of it all, Marielle continued with her chin held high.
"You want me to go with you so you can get yourselves killed and leave us to finish it? Why would I carry a mission all on my own?"
Andre reached for the notice, but his wife put her hand over it. She was already turning away when Quinlan took a cloth-wrapped circlet from his bag and laid it on the counter.
"I see."
He unfolded the cloth to reveal a narrow silver diadem, its fine branches curling around the temples. Tiny runes followed the metalwork along the inner band. Marielle’s gaze stopped on it.
"How about this. I’ll make a wager with you. This is my collateral."
She looked from the circlet to his helmet before picking it up. Her thumb traced the fine channels worked into the underside.
"This craftsmanship... Who made it?"
"Who knows?" Quinlan offered no information like that freely, prompting the woman to narrow her eyes.
But she couldn’t keep the attitude for long, as the crown kept drawing her attention. "What does it do?"
"Would you try it on? It activates when you touch the rune beside your right temple."
"...If-"
"I have nothing against you. Why would I harm you?" Quinlan was quick to shut down this self-centered woman’s thoughts. He literally didn’t care about her at all.
"...Fine." Marielle settled the circlet among her chestnut curls and touched the indicated rune.
Pale blue light spilled over her shoulders. It gathered into a translucent mantle, then thickened into a flowing outer robe with long sleeves and silver embroidery running down its open front.
"Oh..."
She caught a sleeve between her fingers. The conjured fabric slid over her skin like fine silk, cool against the warmth of the Guild hall.
Marielle turned toward the glass-fronted cabinet behind the counter. The robe fell neatly over her battle clothes, drawing in at her waist before flowing down to her ankles. She straightened to study her reflection, then lifted an arm to see the embroidered sleeve drape from it.
It looked damned good on her. The pale blue suited her fair skin, and the silver among her curls gave the sour-faced woman enough elegance to pass for a lady at court.
Seraphiel produced a hand mirror and held it where Marielle could see herself properly.
"Here. The glass makes it difficult to see the embroidery."