scroll 28: Personal Vendetta
The afternoon bustle in Sibar felt like a constant tide. Walking down the cobblestone streets, the air filled with the shouts of merchants trying to draw in passersby.
— Fruit! Get your freshest fruit here!
— Potions! Straight from the alchemist to your hand! Potions for vigor, for vitality! I’ve got all qualities!
The street cries mixed with the continuous clacking of horseshoes against stone. Alaster moved through the crowd, dodging as best as he could, though he still bumped into oncoming pedestrians every now and then.
«What is wrong with all these people? Don't they know how to walk?», he wondered, as the aroma of the food filled his senses.
Nearby, strips of meat skewered on wooden sticks sizzled loudly in boiling fat. The elf distracted himself for a second, watching the splattering oil at a stall that reminded him of the hot dog stands back on Earth, even though they only sold skewers here.
In that split second of distraction, he felt a body slam into his. A short man, draped in a black cloak with a hood obscuring his face, bounced off him and landed flat on his backside.
— Ah, damn it, — the stranger grumbled as his rear hit the sun-baked stone.
Alaster extended his hand.
—Are you well?
The hooded man took it firmly and pulled himself up with a low groan. Getting a close look at the person helping him, he muttered:
—An elf... a blind elf.
—You should watch where you're going,— Alaster began to say.
But the stranger ignored him completely. He began patting himself down and looking around frantically. Taking a few quick steps, he leaned down to scoop up an object he had dropped.
Alaster caught a glimpse of it: it was some kind of luxury dagger, its hilt decorated with golden skeleton designs. The man tucked the weapon into the folds of his dark clothes, spun around, flashed him an obscene hand gesture, and quickly vanished into the crowd.
—Goodbye, totally unsuspicious guy,— Alaster muttered. —I hope you have a great time sacrificing chickens to Baal... or whatever.
He kept walking, but the shoving continued.
«There are way too many people here,» he thought. «I should stop and ask at one of these stalls. Someone's got to know where the damn shop is.»
Another collision jolted him from his thoughts. This time he ran into a lady. Joseph quickly caught her to keep her from falling. The woman frowned at him, but upon noticing his features, she became visibly nervous.
— I... I am sorry, sir, — she said in a hushed voice before hurrying away.
— Look, Mom! — a boy called out from a nearby stall, taking a massive bite out of a skewer. —There's a man walking the wrong way!
The little kid, around seven years old, burst out laughing with his mouth full.
Alaster thought ironically: «Going the wrong way? Just one guy? I've already bumped into like five of them...»
— Timo, don't talk with your mouth full, — his mother scolded.
The woman, who shared the boy's pitch-black hair, looked at the elf with an apologetic smile.
— But, Mom, look at him! It's that light-blue-haired gentleman! He's so funny! — the boy insisted, cracking up.
The woman raised her hand in a timid wave. Alaster, finally piecing together what was happening, raised his hand too, feeling a burning blush rush all the way up to his ears from sheer embarrassment.
In this world, people and carts trafficked on the left. He had been walking on the right the entire time, heading straight into the flow of oncoming traffic.
«My sense of direction is going to be a problem here,» he admitted to himself.
He decided to stop next to a wooden stall with a small cloth awning that shielded it from the scorching sun. Behind the food counter stood an older man, his face weathered by years of working outdoors.
— Hello, can I ask you for directions?
—Ah, an elf? Of course, Your Excellency, — the shopkeeper replied, pulling a bandana off his head and squeezing it respectfully between his hands.
—Do you know where I can find the Sea Sapphire shop? It's a place that sells magic items.
The man looked up, pondering for a second. The cauldrons of stew in front of him gave off a pleasant aroma of meat and spices.
—Yes, Your Excellency. It is just further east, near the city wall. But if you want to take a shortcut, you should go through there, — the old man suggested, pointing toward a much less crowded side street. —That way goes through a warehouse district. Since there are fewer people, you'll be able to walk faster.
«Finally,» Alaster thought with relief. «I'm one step closer to getting the spatial attribute grimoires.»
He thanked the man and prepared to set off again, but felt a rough hand gently squeeze his arm.
—Your Excellency... that guard... do you know him?— the old man asked, subtly nodding toward one side of the street.
Alaster followed his gaze. A few meters away, standing by a building, he saw a tall, thin man with sleepy eyes and heavy dark circles. He wore the characteristic armor of the city guard and the lion crest belonging to the Duke. Noticing Alaster watching him, the guard quickly looked away.
—Maybe he's just intrigued to see an elf,— the old shopkeeper commented. —But you should be careful, Your Excellency. The guards around here are a pain in the ass... Oh, excuse my language!
Alaster smiled faintly. He discreetly pulled five copper coins from his pouch and handed them to the man, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
—Don't worry about it. Take these, it's for your help.
The old man's eyes lit up at the sight of the copper. That practically made his sales goal for the day.
—Thank you, Your Excellency!
Alaster had to say his goodbyes three times and politely decline an invitation to take a bowl of broth before he could finally slip away.
Now making sure to walk on the left, he advanced without tripping until he entered the side street he had been directed to. It was a much more sheltered and lonely path. The shadows of the wooden buildings, many of them in poor condition, cooled the air, dropping the temperature by several degrees. The alley was packed with parked carts, loose wooden planks, wheels, and boxes piled up along the sides. Clearly, it wasn't a route meant for regular pedestrian traffic.
Alaster let out the breath he had been holding, feeling a bit more at ease.
«I think he's not following me anymore. I must have lost him in the crowd,» he thought.
However, his peace of mind didn't last long.
—Well, well... what a coincidence!
The voice echoed from the far end of the narrow alleyway he was crossing.
Alaster froze mid-step, recognizing the tone instantly. Looking ahead, he saw four figures emerge to block his path: a girl and three men. All of them wore the city guard uniform.
—You've got to be kidding me. Seriously?— Alaster muttered with a forced calmness as he saw Grolen leading the group.
The elf quickly spun around to head back the way he came, determined not to look for trouble. But the path back was no longer clear.
Five more guards blocked his exit, and the metallic ring of their swords being unsheathed echoed loudly against the old wooden walls.
50 mp... 100... 150...
«Come on, come on, hurry up,» Alaster thought, rushing to focus mana into his ring.
From among the four figures blocking his path ahead, Grolen took a step forward. With the intense midday light at his back, Alaster could only make out his silhouette, but his voice was unmistakable. The tone overflowed with deep hatred.
— What did you think? That you could come here and do whatever you wanted? — Grolen snapped, clenching his fist. — This is my city!
— We should just kill him already, — chimed in the bored-looking guard Alaster had spotted earlier.
— Don't be a party pooper, Ellot, — said the female guard, Dalma, as she unsheathed a slender dagger from her hip belt. — I've never tried an elf before... It would be a new experience.
— Shut up, Dalma! — Grolen roared at her, losing his patience. — That damn elf is a mage. We need to finish him off before he utters a single spell and turns us to ash!
250 mp.
The flow of energy kept filling the ring, but Alaster felt a bead of cold sweat slide down his forehead. He needed just four more seconds to gather the necessary mana and get them off his back. He had to buy time. He had to distract them.
But how?
«Let's see... what if I play my super-attractive elf card?», he thought in desperation. «Could I seduce her and get her on my side?».
— Gorgeous... — Alaster let out, drawing out his words with a smile that felt quite shaky from the tension. — What is a girl like you doing with guys like these?
The moment the words left his mouth, Alaster cringed internally.
«Crap, why do I sound like a textbook creep?», he scolded himself internally.
However, from the guards' perspective, the situation was very different. The natural charisma of the elven race was magnetic. Alaster's almost unreal attractiveness, much like that of any extremely good-looking person, generated an instant halo effect, making him appear possessed of a chivalry and virtues that he didn't actually have.
Dalma tensed for a second and then purred, her voice shifting into a playful tone.
— It's just for work, sweetheart... But if you're interested, we can leave together.
Alaster smiled internally. It seemed his improvised distraction tactic had worked. He only needed two more seconds of charging.
— It's so much better when I cut off the member of someone who's still breathing, — the woman continued, her cheeks flushing a deep red as she bit her lip. — Feeling them squirm while tied to the ground... it's so exciting.
The brunette looked visibly disturbed by her own fantasy.
Alaster swallowed hard, feeling his smile freeze on his face.
— Uh... sorry. I'm in a relationship, — he muttered, taking a half-step back. — «Okay, this chick is completely sick.»
— Don't you see he's distracting us?! — Ellot exclaimed, exasperated by his companion's blatant lack of professionalism.
— Who cares! — Grolen growled, fed up with beating around the bush. — You won't escape this time. And I won't let you utter a single word of an incantation.
Grolen made a quick hand gesture. Behind the light-blue-haired elf, two of the five guards blocking his retreat pulled shortbows from their backs. With a creak of wood and taut string, they aimed their arrows directly at his torso.