A loud knock on the door to his room at the inn wakes Arthur up from his thoughts. He gets up from his bed and opens up to see the inn owner behind.

“You’ve got someone looking for you, kid.” He says, pointing his thumb back to the stairs.

Having an idea of who it is, Arthur goes down to the lively tavern to see Marina sitting at the counter and in the middle of chugging a big mug of ale. She sets her drink down with a heavy sigh and turns to Arthur.

“There you are. Sit your ass down. We need to talk.” She says with a serious tone and a furrowed brow.

It sounds important, so he does as told. Anthony sets a mug of ale in front of him, as well. “She paid for it.” He shrugs and points to Marina.

“So? What is it?” Arthur asks her.

“Melvin and the two bandits are fucking dead, that’s what.” She groans, clicking her tongue and taking another big swig.

Arthur feels a chill assault his body. “W-What? How!? When!?”

“Obviously professional work. They killed Melvin before he could even wake up and they broke into the bandits’ cell last night and killed them too.” Marina has an obviously annoyed scowl on her face as she says this.

“So… they’re silencing potential leakers?”

“Just so.” Marina nods. “We couldn’t get anything out of them, but at least this confirms there’s someone else behind all of this. We have our suspicions, but nothing confirmed.”

“What about Donald and Aryn?”

“Alive, thankfully.” She nods again. “It’s also further proof that they weren’t directly involved and another hint at the masterminds behind the smuggling.”

“How so?”

“If it is who we think it is, they don’t go around killing whoever is in their way or for petty revenge. More than likely, we’re talking about an organized crime group called Dead Souls.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow at the name.

“We don’t know much about them. Only that it’s likely that their boss is a demigod and that they’re a group made up entirely of people who are assumed dead.”

“Thus the name, huh?”

“Yeah. It makes tracking them down damn near impossible.” Marina groans again and takes another drink. “Whatever, my job’s done. It’s not like I’m part of an official investigation group. I was just hired to find hints, and I did.”

She then looks at Arthur’s unattended drink and scowls directly at him. “It’s bad manners to leave a lady drinking by herself, you know?”

“Is it? Sorry.” Arthur says and starts taking sips out of the ale. It’s cold and refreshing, lightly sweet but with a bitter aftertaste. “It’s my first time drinking with a lady.” He realizes he barely touched his glass of wine when talking to Ariana yesterday.

“You’re strange.” Marina comments, swirling the liquid inside her mug and staring into it. “You’re obviously competent in a fight, but all I see right now is an easily flustered country bumpkin.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I am.” Arthur answers with a sheepish grin. “I’m from Yellowseed Village. I worked as a farmer while training under my mother.”

“Yellowseed? Boy, that’s far.” Her eyes widen.

“You’ve been there?”

“For a few jobs, yeah.” She nods. “More importantly, you said you trained under your mother? What kind of training did she give you to be able to pull off an [Arcane Art] on your second try?”

“Arcane Art?”

“I’m talking about that prana explosion you did back at the forest.”

Arthur silently looks at his right palm as he remembers.

‘Oh yeah. I did that.’

“I don’t know. I just felt like it was something I could pull off. Obviously, I screwed up the first time. My mom only ever taught me how to fight and how to use Prana Flow. I can’t even do Martial Arts.”

“Who’s your mother?”

“Her name is Scarlett. She was… or probably still is, a courier.” Arthur sighs in frustration.

“Courier?” Marina smirks. “Then she must be strong, right?”

“More than any single monster she’s ever faced.” Arthur nods with a proud smile. “But what about you? Have you been a mercenary for long?”

“Only for about two years, technically.” She says, her smile fading and her expression turning neutral. “Like regular soldiers, you can’t join the Dusty Hall unless you’re 18. The chief says we’re not babysitters.”

“What about before that?”

“I guess I’m like you. I was learning from my mother how to fight and how to be a good mercenary. I don’t have any other skills aside from fighting, so I focused on polishing that.” She looks down at the two swords at their side of her waist. “I can confidently say I’m strong, but I also know I’m not the strongest.”

Her eyes turn to Arthur and she stares directly into his.

“There are things we just can’t beat. I was born with a soul of above average power, but you? What you have is insane. I can close the gap in power with skill and experience, but the moment you can match me in those, I’ll lose.”

She smiles bitterly before she starts drinking again, and not knowing how to answer, Arthur mirrors her.

“I want to be strong.” She says, setting down her empty mug. “I want to be strong like my mother, but that’s never going to happen.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because a normal human can never be as strong as a demigod.” She sighs. “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

‘Wait. Hold up! What did she say!?’

“Wait! Your mother is a demigod!?”

“Oh, I didn’t mention that? My mother is the chief of the Dusty Hall.”

“…” Arthur’s jaw drops. “B-But then… aren’t you also a demigod?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m… adopted. Mother picked me off the streets when I was 10.”

“…” Arthur closes his mouth and purses his lips, not knowing how to answer that.

“Why am I even telling this to you? Just answer my question, dammit.” She says with a tired sigh. “Are you a demigod, too?”

“I don’t know. Someone seems to believe I am, but… what makes someone a demigod, anyway?”

“As far as I understand, it means inheriting a piece of a god’s soul.” Marina explains. “That said, I don’t understand how it works, either.”

All this talking is doing is making Arthur realize how little he knows of everything. When he was a kid, his mother taught him some of what the richer kids learn in school. She taught him math, how to read and some basic history. After the incident, she taught him how to fight. Now he wishes she’d taught him more about the world.

“Oh whatever! I’ll stop pestering you.” Marina shakes her head violently, her long hair getting messy. “For now, we drink! A toast!” She says, raising her mug and realizing it’s empty. “Hey, boss man! Another one!”

“What are toasting to?” Arthur asks.

“To me getting paid and you escaping your first scrap alive, of course!” Marina grins excitedly.