Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1976: Clumsy Celia

Quinlan watched Celia push herself off the floor of Sarthal’s Adventurer’s Guild, one hand clamped over her nose.

"I’m alright! Please don’t leave!"

The archer who had been questioning Blossom started forward from beside the counter, but Lucille reached Celia first. The women from the contract boards had stayed to watch the negotiations, their own afternoon plans apparently forgotten.

"We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet, sweetheart." Lucille offered her a hand while Quinlan bent down and gathered the scattered arrows using his hands for once instead of magic.

"Look at him," the archer murmured to the woman beside her. "Picking up her arrows after what he did to Harl..."

"Apparently you only need to worry if you’re an arsehole," her friend replied over the rim of her mug.

The archer snorted while Quinlan reached for the last arrow.

Celia accepted Lucille’s help, then hurried to collect her bow. When she turned back, Quinlan held out the arrows to her.

"Ah... Thank you. The door... I didn’t see the..."

She gave up explaining and put them in her quiver before following Lucille to the counter. Her pale brown braid had been tied with a green ribbon, and loose strands clung to her thoroughly reddened cheeks.

Quinlan placed her in her early twenties, at least as far as looks went. She wore a serviceable travelling coat with newly sewn patches at the elbows, and the fingers gripping her bow were wrapped where the string had rubbed them raw.

"Y-you’re interested?"

"We have questions," Marielle scowled. Unlike Quinlan and the gang, this woman seemingly did not find Celia’s entrance amusing.

"Y-yes, naturally! I’ll tell you all I can! Thank you for looking at it."

Her eyes moved over the women before stopping at Quinlan’s helmet. She looked back at the clerk, who indicated the notice on the counter.

Seraphiel moved beside the counter, leaving room for Celia to set down her things.

"The notice says someone came back. Are they here in Sarthal?"

"My father. Edric. He’s at home."

"Could you tell us what happened to him?"

Celia lowered her satchel onto the counter. Several folded papers protruded from its inner pocket, each marked with notes in a cramped hand.

"He went with an expedition to some ruins beneath the hills. They were surveying the underground passages. There are older maps, but parts of them... parts don’t match anymore. They wanted to find out which routes were still usable."

She paused to wet her lips.

"People found him near the approach. He’d been hurt terribly. His legs, and his hands... They brought him back, and the healers repaired everything they could find. He can walk now. He can hold a cup."

Her fingers pressed against the papers.

"But he doesn’t know where he is sometimes. He says things, but they don’t... I can’t understand what he’s trying to tell me."

Seraphiel’s expression softened.

"Did anyone else return?"

Celia shook her head at the elf.

"They haven’t found anybody. I put everything I know in there. The route he took, the names, what he had with him. If something down there did this to him, perhaps..."

She tried to finish the sentence and couldn’t.

Lucille touched the satchel beside her hand.

"You want us to find out what it was, so someone can help him."

"Yes. Please."

Aurora began reading the treatment notes with Celia’s permission. Marielle pulled the contract toward herself and studied the payment terms instead.

"The funds are deposited?"

"All three hundred crowns," the clerk confirmed. "Thirty can be released for provisions when you sign. That leaves two hundred and seventy payable on completion."

"I borrowed the exact amount," Celia added quickly. "It’s all there. I swear."

"Borrowed from whom?" Lucille asked.

"A lender."

"Against what?" The Bloodmonger had a sad little motherly smile, fearing the answer.

Celia’s fingers rubbed together as she muttered under her breath. "The house..."

"Sweetheart..." Lucille exhaled. "What’s the interest rate?"

"He’s my father! I don’t care about such a thing!"

"...Understandable," Marielle nodded along, satisfied. "Some things are worth more than any coin."

"Exactly!" Celia nodded vehemently.

However, what she did not notice was the mage’s eyes that almost had gold coins replacing the irises.

"So be it," Lucille finally spoke up while glaring daggers into Marielle. "I’d do the same thing in your place."

That brought a smile to their quest giver.

"I know you can’t promise to fix him. I just... I don’t know what else to try."

Lucille stayed beside her while Andre examined the map.

"Have you been to this approach yourself?"

"As far as the last inhabited road. I asked about hiring a wagon, and I wrote down where we could get water."

She reached into the satchel and found the appropriate page immediately.

"I can come with you. I’ll carry things. Food, water, whatever you need. I can cook simple meals, and I’ll clean the equipment while you rest."

Celia held her bow a little closer.

"I only started training for this after Father came home, so I’m not very good yet. My level is still low. But I won’t get in your way. I want you to stay fresh so you can... so you have the best chance should whatever got him also attack us."

Marielle tapped the reward line.

"Andre and I take half the payment remaining after the advance. Your party takes the other half, however many of you there are. Recovery expenses come from the provision allowance, and any salvage follows the contract."

The woman with the mug looked from Marielle and Andre to the much larger group around Quinlan.

"Half for the two of them?" she whispered.

The archer pursed her lips, watching to see what he would say.

Quinlan read the terms Aurora turned toward him. A hundred and thirty-five crowns for each party, with the provision money covering their shared expenses. Their portion would be split across far more people than the couple’s.

Marielle was watching his helmet, waiting for an objection. He glanced at the map instead.

The job would take them into unexplored passages to face a threat nobody had identified, with whatever they accomplished going on their Guild record. He could discover more about Thalorind down there than by spending the day filling a basket with leaves.

Quinlan couldn’t care less about negotiating with this greedy vulture now that he got what he wanted, namely the right to go on this expedition itself.

The fact that her future was rather ’uncertain’ made him care even less. By not getting into petty squabbles with this bitch, he’d also increase their reputation, or at least not trash it to the very bottom.

Black Fang was already studying the route beside his wives.

Ayame was in agreement with him. "That works for us."

"Just like that?" the archer murmured. "I’d have argued."

"Did you see what he put up as security? I don’t think he’s worrying about his share of three hundred crowns."

"I don’t care how rich you are, that’s still a fortune."

"We’re like beggars glancing at an emperor. Stop trying to understand."

The clerk drew out a joining form. Aurora went through Unbound’s contribution with Andre: fighting, examining the site and its samples, and helping recover whatever they found. The couple would lead them along the expedition route and handle the Guild’s reporting requirements.

Beside those duties, the clerk recorded the circlet as security for Unbound’s work, to be returned when that work was completed. Marielle read the conditions before signing as expedition leader. Andre signed next, and Quinlan entered Unbound beneath their names.

Marielle put the circlet back on and touched the rune at her temple. The pale blue robe flowed over her shoulders again.

Celia watched the clerk stamp the completed form, then hugged the satchel against herself with her bow trapped awkwardly under one arm.

"Thank you... Thank you so much...."

"Good. Let’s go," Marielle said. "You can take us to the approach. We should cover as much ground as possible before dark."

"Before we leave Sarthal, could you take us to your father?" Seraphiel asked Celia.

The young woman’s grateful expression faltered as Marielle turned toward the elf.

"She’s paid healers to disappoint her already. Must we lose an afternoon so you can have a turn?"

The woman with the mug lowered it without drinking.

"The girl’s standing right there," she muttered to the archer, who had stopped smiling too. "Fucking cunt..."