《Path of Salt》Chapter 22: Free Day

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Chapter 22: Free Day

“I’m sorry, but there just isn’t any more pet finding quests.” Eva said, as she sighed to herself. “And there aren’t any ingredient gathering quests recently... Besides, don’t you think you’re a bit too highly ranked for these kinds of quests, though?”

“Maybe I am.” Marcus said, as he glanced down at the tag hanging by his neck. It was a metal tag, colored into a lustrous deep brown which seemed to shine from the lighting. It was a Bronze tag.

“Besides, aren’t you doing just fine with your current Dungeon Delving quests?” She replied, her eyes not lifting from the paper she was writing on.

“I like finding lost pets.” He replied, his voice not containing any signs of humor. “But if all of this city’s lost pets are found, then I am happy for their owners.”

Her gaze tore itself from the paper, and turned to look at the boy. “Is that... why you’ve been restless when it came to these kinds of quests?”

Indeed. The boy named Marcus had an amazing, perfect record when it came to quests that directly helped a single person, and seemed to abstain from violence.

These mundane commissions from people, like searching for lost pets, or finding rare ingredients in dangerous places within the forests – those are the kinds of quests he usually takes when he isn’t being dragged off by his party to another, more typical kind of quest, or dungeon delving.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “This is strange. There’s usually a quest or something...”

“What’s even stranger is you completing these quests in half an hour, coming back, then getting another one.” Eva said, her finger moving to point at the boy. She sighed when she realized it was bad manners, and lowered the pointing finger. “Seriously, Marcus, you cleared them all. Go take a break or something.”

He looked around for a bit, seemingly searching for something. No, in his case, he’s definitely searching for his party. Once again, not once did she ever see the boy look at the massive painting of the city from a bird’s eye view. “Did my Party go to complete a quest?”

“Hold on.” Eva said, right as she turned to look at the papers in her desk. After carefully sifting and sorting through them, she nodded. “Well, yeah. But it seems like it’s the last herb gathering quest. You all people should know that those quests are practically safe compared to other quests, right?”

“Hmm.” He hummed. Was he seriously considering it instead of just outright agreeing? She felt a sigh leak out again. “If there’s really nothing for me, then I’ll take a break. Thank you, and good bye.”

“Hah. Finally.” She replied, as she straightened her back, her spine cracking with a satisfying pop. “Go have fun.”

“Mhm.” And just like that, she saw the strange, polite boy leave. Where as others would focus on quests which exterminate beasts, he would seemingly rather spend his time doing the most mundane of quests.

It was also good that he was finally relaxed enough to not speak in that posh, stiff, too formal speaking dialect of his. Where did he even learn that, to begin with? That sounded like something a noble would speak in, and not from a supposed village boy like him...

Well, no matter. If he managed to reach Bronze rank in just a month, then she didn’t quite need to complain about him. But seriously, she wondered if that boy even slept. But his lack of eye bags would indicate that yes, he did sleep properly at least.

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So with a shrug, she returned her quill down, right when the next person in line gave her a quest. She took the paper, and began to read it to herself, and she found herself letting out a sigh.

It was an extermination type quest. Of course it was.

***

“Hmm.” Tobias hummed to himself. Now that he had free time to himself, what should he do with it? Something within himself – his instincts – told him to inspect his sword. So he looked around, and when saw that no one was around, he unsheathed his sword.

And his instincts were correct.

The sword might have been wiped clean every now and then, but its edges were chipped and frayed, it had scratches covering it, and raising it up to inspect its linearity only revealed a subtle bend to the blade leaning towards the left. Maybe swinging it against a wooden shield at full force wasn’t such a good idea, after all... But it did split the shield, if nothing else.

He let out a small hum, before sheathing it. He would try to get the blade repaired; this sword was, after all, gifted to him by Magnus. It would be just a bitter shame to throw it away, especially now that he’s shamelessly adopted Marcus’ own name.

That being said – how long exactly does it take to repair a blade? Or maybe he needed a replacement while it was being worked on? Well, he wouldn’t know the answers to that by himself. So with a nod to himself, he set off towards the direction of blacksmith.

***

Krothur was a blacksmith – as was typical with dwarves who migrated to other nations. ‘There are enough miners’ they say, ‘your smithing skills are valuable’ they say. It wasn’t his fault he wanted to mine, but at the same time, he was just naturally talented when it came to working with metals.

And as fate decreed, he was promoted (more like was forced to) as the city’s head blacksmith. That being said, whenever he had free time, he liked to work in the main smithing shop, as he hammered away at a metal piece. If he couldn’t mine, then he could at least personally smith something every now and then.

And while he was working, a kid walked up to him and brought a sword.

Normally, he would just ignore the kid and move on, but something about the sword he carried with him seemed to call out to his senses. So giving in to curiosity, he received the sword, and drew it from its sheath –

“By Kother’s hell forge, what ta bloody hell did ya do t’is sword?!” He growled, as he set it down with an aggressive sigh. He gave the kid a glare – and the kid only looked back with a neutral expression, not even flinching. “Listen’ere kid, you’re lucky t’is sword is decent enough. If it ta made by some amateur, it woulda broke long ago.”

“Hmm.” The kid hummed, as if taking his words into consideration. “Can you repair it, then?”

Krothur blinked. The sheer audacity of this kid. “Who d’ya think I am?” He asked, his eyes narrowing at the kid.

“The Blacksmith.” In turn, the kid only replied with a curt nod, and a neutral enough stare. “So you can repair it, yes?”

“Tat’s right. I am THE Blacksmith ‘ere.” He said, as he pointed to himself with his thumb. “Ya best be thankin’ me for makin’ enough time ‘round my hands for doin’ t’is for ya.”

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“Thank you, Sir Blacksmith.” The kid said, as he bowed down.

Krothur’s glare softened. Maybe this kid wasn’t as bad as he thought. Adventurers these days tended be ruder than a dwarf’s uncle, he tells you! “Kid, but why d’ya bother tryna repair it instead of just gettin’ another one?” He said, as he inspected the blade once more.

It was perfectly within his capabilities to repair – it’s just that replacing it, or even getting a new blade forged would simply be more practical and cheaper.

“It was given to me by a friend’s father.” The kid replied. “I did not want to cause disrespect by simply replacing it.”

“Ya already caused disrespect to ya blade.” Krothur said, but he nodded his head nonetheless. “I understand tho. Anythin’ given to us by family is always good, even if it been from a friend’s family.”

“Yeah.” The kid nodded again. “How much do you need as payment?”

The blacksmith shook his head. “I’ll decide later. Go scram now, I’m busy.”

“But when do I return?” The kid asked.

“Just come back in two days or three.” He shrugged, then waved his hand to shoo the kid away. Thankfully, he seemed to understand, gave a polite nod to the blacksmith, and began to walk away.

What a polite lad. He didn’t see too many polite lads nowadays.

If he had a copper coin for every polite adventurer lad out there, then he would have two. It wasn’t a lot, but it was nice that it happened.

So with a nod to himself, he inspected the metal which rested on top of the anvil. It had gotten too cold over the course of their conversation. With a sigh, he stood up from his seat, and walked towards the brightly burning furnace.

***

That went much better than expected. Tobias gave a small pat to his own shoulder for a job well done. Then again, the short, yet muscular and stocky man seemed to be prideful of his own skills, and more or less simply accepted the request to repair the sword once he (accidentally) prodded his pride.

And then – after that thought, he realized that he didn’t quite have a weapon now. His gaze fell to his right thigh, which carried a leather strap hosting three, perfectly fine throwing knives.

Even if they were throwing knives, they could probably be used as normal knives, correct? Maybe their edges weren’t as sharp as real knives, but they’re still incredibly pointy, and serrated as well.

With a shrug, he decided that it wasn’t too much of a problem. It was a quest free day, after all, and he didn’t quite need to do anything which possibly requires a weapon.

A memory crept up suddenly, and he let a small smile emerge from his face. Those delicious, strange things, which were heated, circular hotcakes, filled with sweet liquid and various cut fruits, before being folded into a triangular shape. Clara had gotten one and shared some of it with him (even though he paid for it), and now he thought about getting one.

It was delightful – even saying it was ‘delightful’ would truly be the grandest understatement of all time. Simply biting into it was a pleasure of its own kind, the toasted-like taste of the hotcake was exceptional with its hardened, crispy exterior born from its prolonged exposure from the flames. But that was only the beginning, for biting into one of them revealed its soft, almost-boiling hot filling of the sweetest caramelized sugar, along with the tangy-like bite of sliced, barely ripened berries, and those two ingredients, combined with the taste of the crispy, well-done hotcake exterior only complemented each ingredient to their maximum potential – the truest, most holiest matrimony of ingredients ever known to humans – nay, to every single sentient species out there, exploding within the confines of his very mouth as it enveloped him in the most painfully succulent, most painful temporary bliss he had ever experienced –

Then again, Tobias had no way of knowing that. He only understood that his mouth was salivating at the thought right now. Well then, where was the marketplace hosting the stall...

But was he allowed to enjoy this? Wasn’t he supposed to grow stronger to complete his own, personal quest – oof. A person bumped into him, interrupting his thoughts. He was left standing and took a step back, while the person who bumped into him fell to the ground. His stability was great, to say the very least.

It was a girl. She looked up at him with a glare and a scowl. “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry.” Tobias said, as he bent down and stretched out his hand for her to take. “I was distracted by my thoughts, I did not see you there.”

“Ah.” She intoned, as she looked at the offered hand. Her gaze softened, and reached out for it. The moment she grasped it firmly, he pulled her upwards. “Thanks.”

“It was my fault, do not worry about it.” He said, shrugging. Then he began to walk off, their business concluded... Or so he thought.

“You... you’re an Adventurer, aren’t you?” She intoned. The moment he heard it, he spun around lazily to face her.

“I mean, you are correct. But how did you know?” He asked, his eyebrow raised.

In turn, she pointed as his belt, then to his throwing knives, before finally pointing at his coat. “I would be lying if I said you didn’t look the part, at least.” Now that she mentioned it, even she resembled an adventurer; with her dark blonde hair tied into a ponytail behind her, her leather gloves, and long, needle-thin sword sheathed by her side. All of them hallmark traits of an Adventurer or something.

“Ah.” Tobias gave out an unwitting grin. She wasn’t entirely wrong. “Anyways, did you need something from me?”

Her gaze went towards the metal tag he wore, and her eyes narrowed. “Are you... Are you the one they call Marcus?” He didn’t flinch at the name anymore, having gotten used to it, but he still nodded nonetheless. “I have been asked by the Guild to seek you out.”

The Guild sought him out? What could have been so important that they would look for a Bronze-ranked Adventurer who just joined in a month ago? “Why?”

“Your party... has been attacked.”

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