Scroll 12: The Dawn Before the Quest
The stillness of the night in the city of Sibar was broken only by the distant patrolling of the city guards.
In his room, Alaster wasn't sleeping. He sat on the edge of his straw bed, his gaze lost in a small flame dancing upon the palm of his right hand.
It wasn't an ordinary fire; it was a manifestation of his mana, an energy he could now feel rushing through his veins like a river of tempered mercury.
He observed the phenomenon through narrowed eyes, fascinated by the mechanics of magical combustion. As a programmer in his past life, his mind instinctively looked for the source code behind the effect.
The mana consumed itself at a steady rate, following a progression that seemed to respond to his will, but also to thermodynamic laws he was just beginning to decipher.
—Getting rich in an Isekai...— he whispered to himself, watching the fire cast long shadows of his fingers—now unusually long and elegant—against the rough stone wall. —Mangas make it look so easy.
His thoughts drifted back to Earth. He recalled stories where the protagonist simply invented soap or mayonnaise and ended up buying a dukedom.
«Impossible,» he muttered, tightening his fist slightly. «Mayonnaise is an unreachable dream for a newcomer. To mass-produce it, I'd need a massive investment in raw materials: fresh eggs by the hundreds, refined vegetable oil, lemon, or vinegar.»
«That means shipping costs, refrigerated storage units that don't even exist, and a supply chain that this medieval world completely lacks. Not to mention quality control; one bad batch of mayonnaise and half of the local nobility would end up poisoned.»
However, his eyes gleamed with a different light as he thought about popcorn. It was simple.
Corn was cheap, the physical process of expansion through heat was elementary, and the novelty factor in this world would be absolute.
With just a bit of sugar and butter—products that could actually be sourced locally—he could generate a decent profit margin to fund his basic equipment and those magic books that cost a fortune.
Tomorrow would be his trial by fire... He wanted to see just how effective his magic, enhanced by his advanced knowledge of Earth, would be against real targets.
«One thing is what I know about mages in video games—their high capacity for massive burst damage or Area of Effect spells, on top of being the strongest DPS in most games,» he conjectured in his mind.
—However, elves in this world possess physical strength superior to humans— he added in a low voice. —Technically, I'm not completely defenseless like mages usually are in games.
—Tomorrow, I'll move from theory to practice... Even if it's just a herb-gathering quest, I can always test a spell or two out in the open field— he decided, narrowing his eyes.
With that final thought, he extinguished the flame and surrendered to sleep.
Dawn began to stain the sky a pale violet, announcing the start of a new day. In the adjacent room, a bird with colorful plumage perched on the windowsill.
With twitching, nervous movements, it began to peck at a lonely piece of popcorn that Jinneth had left there the night before, intending to wake up to the sound of birdsong.
Jinneth watched the scene through the yellowed, warped glass of her window. Seeing the bird enjoy the strange delicacy, a brief smile crossed her face—until she remembered another scene by a window the previous night.
She huffed and threw a pillow against the glass, only to immediately realize she was taking out her anger on an innocent bird. She jumped out of bed with a contagious burst of energy.
Her long linen nightgown, which had clung to her body from the night's sweat and highlighted her athletic worker's build, ended up crumpled on a wooden chair.
Without wasting a second, she plunged headfirst into the bucket of cold water, washing her face with a vigor that would have jolted anyone awake.
«First, that liar Uriel ruins my moment with Al, and now I'm taking it out on an innocent little animal,» Jinneth thought in frustration.
«I should go see that famous witch who lives to the south. They say she can undo any hex, and I am definitely cursed.» She pondered for a moment on who could have cast such a cruel spell on her, until she realized she was going to be late to prepare breakfast for Alaster and the rest of the guests.
At the same time, Alaster faced his reflection in a metal basin. Upon seeing his face, he froze for a second.
His skin seemed to emit an iridescent glow, a pure, flawless white that resembled fine porcelain. His hair, a striking glacial blue, fell with an elegance that still felt foreign to him, framing sharp and perfect features.
His hypnotic violet eyes seemed to hold depths that he himself couldn't comprehend. His beauty had transcended human limits; it was something almost angelic, yet terrifyingly flawless.
He used a stiff fox-fur brush Jinneth had lent him—an object that smelled faintly of lavender—to try and tame his mane.
«You're turning into a narcissist, Joseph,» he scolded himself internally, noticing how much time he was spending adjusting the collar of his tunic. «But damn, this avatar is God-tier.»
With his hair still slightly damp from a careless wash, giving him a rebellious and dangerous look, Alaster stepped out into the hallway.
The creaking of the wooden floorboards announced that the inn was waking up, but before he could head toward the stairs, a soft, hesitant voice stopped him.
— H-hello... Alaster.
He looked down, and his eyes met the girl living in the next room. Alaster paused for a second, processing the image in front of him.
Liena was, to say the very least, a bafflingly beautiful sight.
She had a face of aristocratic paleness, with features so delicate and tender that they made you want to protect her, yet at the same time, they exuded an undeniable maturity.
Her eyes were a deep, striking blue, like two sapphires bathed in seawater, and her hair was a fiery red that cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders.
Joseph recalled seeing her from a distance the day before and, in his ignorance of this new world, had assumed she was just an ordinary human woman.
However, seeing her up close, reality painted a different picture. She stood at barely four feet six inches tall, but her proportions were a mathematical anomaly of absolute perfection. She lacked both the childish features of a young girl and the skeletal structure associated with dwarfism.
Alaster thought to himself that it was as if someone had taken a stunning six-foot-tall redhead model and, through an aesthetic resizing spell, scaled her down to four-foot-six while keeping every single curve and angle perfectly intact.
She dressed extremely conservatively, wearing a skirt that fell well below her knees and a round-neck blouse without the slightest hint of cleavage.
Yet the fabric struggled to contain a curvaceous figure, complete with rhythmic hips and a proud, full chest that gave away her adult nature.
Marly, the innkeeper, had clarified to him later that Liena was a Halfling—a race of small folk—and that despite her petite stature, she was around twenty-seven years old.
—Good morning, Liena— Alaster replied with a smile, trying to act natural. —It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?
But as he looked at her, Alaster paused. The girl was staring MD at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
«Why is she looking at me like that? Do I have soap left on my face or something?» Joseph thought with a prickle of insecurity, nervously touching his face and checking his tunic.
What Alaster couldn't see was exactly what Liena had right in front of her.
The morning light filtered through a window at the end of the hall, piercing through the elf's icy blue hair and creating a halo that made his porcelain skin glow. His figure possessed a powerful, almost mystical aura.
Furthermore, the buttons his shirt was missing due to his skirmish with the guards left part of his torso exposed, revealing the defined musculature and flawless skin of his new body.
«He looks like a deity... Perhaps he's the god of sensuality,» Liena thought, feeling a scorching heat rush up her neck at such a bold realization.
She realized with horror that she had been staring directly at his chest—precisely the kind of leering gaze she utterly loathed receiving from men, and the reason she chose to wear such closed-off clothing.
—I-it is a b-beau...tiful day... y-yes— she stammered, completely unable to articulate a coherent sentence.
Alaster, still distracted by checking his partially bare chest, sighed in frustration.
—Yeah, it's a stroke of luck that the weather is holding up because... —He tried to pull his shirt closer together, but the torn buttonholes made it impossible. — Damn it, those guards practically ruined my only outfit.
—I'll have to get some new clothes soon, though... I'm basically bankrupt. Today is my first quest, and I really don't want to end up like a drowned rat if the weather decides to turn.
Liena, whose imagination instantly ran wild with the imagery of the elf's shirt being soaking wet and clinging tightly to his body, inadvertently muttered aloud:
—It's getting hot...
—Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it is a bit warm up here— Joseph replied, scratching the back of his neck.
Suddenly, he remembered that Arya was waiting for him and that every minute counted in his new life.
—Liena, I'd love for us to chat later when we have more time so I can learn more about this place, but right now I have to run down for breakfast and head out for that quest I mentioned.
The halfling remained quiet, nodding slightly as she whispered softly:
—G-good luck on your q-quest...
—Thanks! — Alaster called out, flashing her one last smile before quickly heading down the stairs.
Liena was left alone in the hallway outside her door. After a few seconds of silence, she burst out laughing—a low, graceful sound full of playful self-deprecation. She covered her face with her hands, burning with embarrassment.
«I can't believe I told him 'it is a beautiful day' like a broken record... What is wrong with you, Liena? You look like an idiot,» she scolded herself, though the image of Alaster's violet eyes remained burned into her mind.
Alaster walked down into the common room, and the bustling noise enveloped him immediately. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted coffee beans was intoxicating.
He spotted Jinneth moving between the tables like a whirlwind, greeting everyone. Then, his gaze locked onto the corner: Arya.
The elf was the definition of cold beauty. She wore light leather armor that hugged her statuesque body perfectly, with a forest-green cloak that draped gracefully over her shoulders.
She was checking the tension of her bowstring with professional seriousness. Upon spotting Alaster, she simply offered a curt nod, though her sharp green eyes scanned him with curiosity.
From a nearby table, Liena's party of adventurers watched the scene unfold.
—They say he registered just yesterday— whispered a heavily armored female warrior named Karinae. — The girls at the reception desk say he's so polite that their voices crack from pure nervousness whenever they talk to him.
—If I were that elf— snorted Jilbert, a burly man resting his hands on a massive battleaxe, —not a single woman in this city would escape my hands.
—Thank the gods you are nowhere near being him, because you are nothing but a disgusting... creep— Liena stated coldly as she reached the table.
—What?— Jilbert fired back. —We're all thinking the exact same thing!
—It's not that big of a deal— intervened Mezlop, a short, plump man known as the guild's living encyclopedia. —I actually heard he's Level 1 and F-Rank. A total rookie.
The group stared in disbelief. If Mezlop said it, it was a fact.
Liena couldn't believe her ears; that elf who looked like a literal god—one she secretly wanted to smother in kisses—was just a beginner. She watched Alaster chuckle at something Arya said, feeling a sudden pang of envy toward that carefree laughter.
For a split second, she imagined being the one receiving that attention, blushing so hard that her pale skin contrasted sharply against her blue eyes.
The girls in the group immediately swarmed around Mezlop.
—Do you know if he likes brunettes?— asked Deinderatrix, a high-stature mage with remarkably refined features.
—Do you know if he's married?— another chimed in.
—What's his zodiac sign?— asked a young girl with a round face.
Mezlop, thoroughly enjoying the spotlight, straightened his posture.
—I heard that yesterday he beat up two guards to defend the innkeeper's daughter. They say he almost killed that troublemaker Grolen. The Captain of the second regiment already has his eye on him...
—He's a total knight in shining armor!— the girls swooned in unison.
—Does that mean he's together with the innkeeper's daughter?— Deinderatrix asked, a subtle note of jealousy creeping into her tone.
—So what if he is? A second wife deals with much less social pressure anyway— argued the warrior Karinae. —But walking arm-in-arm with him to a festival... now that's the ultimate dream.
—Hey, Mezlop... what's his name?— Deinderatrix asked.
Mezlop, who had been completely distracted staring down the generous cleavage of one of the girls, stiffened.
—Uh... the Guild is keeping his records classified. I don't know.
—What?!— they all shrieked. — You don't even know his name! Useless!
Deinderatrix, one of the few B-Rank mages around and famous for having rejected a high-ranking noble, slumped back into her chair. She was a hopeless romantic at heart, but she masked her true feelings behind the facade of a sultry, seductive witch.
— Liena... — Deinderatrix said, her voice smooth as silk.— Since you're in the room right next to his... you could be my ticket to get close to him. Please help this poor, lonely soul.
—I can't! I'd be way too embarrassed— the halfling squeaked.
—Don't be like that, Liena — Karinae chimed in. — Maybe with him, Detrix can finally get over her elf trauma.
—Shut up!— the mage snapped, flashing back to a memory from years ago when an elven librarian had rejected her, calling her an "annoying brat."
—Besides, we don't even know his name— Deinderatrix added with a sigh.
—His name is Alaster— Liena blurted out suddenly.
—How do you know?!— they all demanded in unison.
—Because I’m not just his neighbor— we’ve actually talked a few times, like this morning. So I know him a little bit, and I have to say, he’s really sweet. Or rather, charming.
Right at that moment, a loud, ringing laugh from Arya drew the attention of the entire inn.
—Three lousy goblins, Alaster! You were running like a damsel in distress!— the blonde elf shouted, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard.
—Don't laugh, I practically died out there!— Alaster protested, though he ended up laughing along with her.
Deinderatrix watched Alaster's face, fully illuminated by his laughter. He was a living piece of fine art.
When the elf suddenly glanced over toward their table and offered a friendly wave—thinking of Liena—Deinderatrix felt her heart do a violent flip.
She noticed Liena quickly averting her gaze out of sheer embarrassment, and felt an impulse that was half-protective and half-predatory.
The mage, who stood at a commanding five feet nine inches tall and possessed a figure that could stop carriage traffic, rose from her seat.
Her two-piece outfit, held together by intricate laces that showcased her sculpted midriff and an ample portion of her generous bust, heavily emphasized her aura as a sultry enchantress. She stepped over to Liena and knelt down to match her height.
—Lieny...— she whispered, her lips painted a dark, deep purple. — Introduce me to your elf friend. Please. I promise I won't say anything weird.
Liena looked at her with pure skepticism.
—Do you swear? No marriage proposals in the very first sentence, Detrix.
—I'll try, I'll try...— the mage murmured, glancing sideways toward Alaster's table, where the trajectory of her morning was about to drastically change.
Meanwhile, back at the table, Alaster finished his tea.
—I don't have a staff, Arya. Not even a wand.
—You couldn't afford one anyway— she stated flatly. —The cheapest one goes for five gold coins.
Alaster paled. Five gold pieces was a small fortune.
But before he could complain, he felt a presence approaching. Looking up, he saw Liena walking over, but she wasn't alone.
A stunningly gorgeous woman, clad in mage robes that left very little to the imagination and carrying a gaze packed with an intensity Alaster had only ever seen on professional modeling posters, was walking right behind her.
—Alaster...— Liena stammered, —this is my friend, Deinderatrix. She wanted to... meet you.
Alaster stood up out of sheer courtesy, offering a warm smile that, completely unbeknownst to him, had just sealed the fate of Arya's mood for the rest of the day.
—It's a pleasure, Deinderatrix. I'm Alaster. Are you a mage as well?
The B-Rank mage opened her mouth, her face turning bright crimson. She looked down at Alaster's exposed chest, then locked onto his eyes, and blurted out the absolute first thing that crossed her mind:
—Would you like to... breed children with high magical potential with me?
Liena immediately smacked her own forehead with the palm of her hand.
Alaster blinked, his brain desperately trying to process the fastest marriage proposal in recorded history, while Arya, sitting in the background, erupted into a roaring fit of laughter that could be heard all the way out in Sibar's central plaza.