Ch. 22 - Then Let Someone Die
The Clan Olympus, affiliated with the Adventurer’s Guild, held an A-rank license. That rank alone spoke for its members: every one of them—even the maids—was formidable.
“Enzo,” I said evenly, “I may have spoken too harshly earlier. Still, your point had merit. In case of an emergency, purchase some supplies from the apothecary. I leave the choice to you, but don’t overdo it. Just enough to cover the unexpected.”
“O-oh, got it. I’ll head out at once.”
Although reluctant, Enzo hurried out.
Marielle turned her gaze on me, sharp as a blade.
I spat out the flavorless Kyara incense from my mouth.
“Number Two. You—”
“You keep calling me that. What does it mean?”
Zoë darted over and shoved a fresh piece of Kyara into my mouth.
“My apologies, Miss Marielle.”
The peppermint bite cleared my head, as it always did—icy clarity, silence lodged in the sinuses.
“Miss Marielle. Do you have any stock of myconid spores?”
Myconids were mushroom-like monsters living inside the dungeons. Not especially dangerous, but their spores had potent sleep-inducing properties. Excellent as catalysts for magic, and essential in anesthetic blends.
“If you do, I’d like them all. Put it on Alex’s tab.”
“Understood.”
As expected, competence needed no fuss. Marielle rose without hesitation and slipped out.
“Miss Annette,” I turned next, “fetch the Grisalis grass I mentioned. It grows riverside. Look for purple blossoms. Pull it up whole, roots intact, and shake off the soil as much as possible.”
Annette looked doubtful, gaze sliding away.
“Uh… um… right. Purple flowers. Riverside… Got it.”
Oh dear. Not everyone here is capable… What should I do?
Grisalis wasn’t as powerful as a medicinal ingredient, but its versatility as a base was invaluable. A mistake wouldn't be acceptable.
I was about to offer to go myself when Zoë spoke.
“Zoë knows Grisalis… I know where it grows.”
“What—”
I had suspected as much, but her words confirmed it: this dwarf girl was the sharpest mind in the room.
Before thinking, I pulled Zoë into my arms and kissed her forehead, a blessing flowing through me.
“Ah!”
She yelped, startled. Her small frame glowed, scattering motes of light—tiny stars drifting like phosphorescence before sinking back into her body.
“Ah…”
Her cheeks flushed, Zoë stood frozen for a beat, then remembered her task. Tugging Ashita’s hand, she hurried out.
“A blessing for luck?” Annette muttered, wide-eyed.
“I wouldn’t know,” I replied.
Turning to the remaining maids, I continued without pause.
“Prepare three red stones and three blue stones, also, needles, as many as possible. Sewing pins will do, but I want iron ones. The kind used as hidden weapons. Understood?”
The elegant warcats bowed in unison and left.