Right now, I am sitting in a tavern in the frozen peak. Sitting right next to me is Eric, who has yet to touch a drop of alcohol. He doesn't need to be so uptight. It wouldn't affect him. The drinks here are quite shit. The only reason that I am even drinking right now is to buy myself some time.
Otherwise, Eric is going to drag me back to the guestroom. Talking to him has been kind of annoying, but since the man is my only guide, there is little I can do but that. He has been tasked with escorting me to the frozen peak.
The man has been taking me from shop to shop since morning. There is nothing to show for it. The people here have nothing good enough to make formations. I can't use the materials here to patch up the ship, let alone craft a new propulsion formation.
"Well, soldier Eric. I have to wonder, what happened to all your precious ores?" I ask the man. "I would have thought that your markets would be flush with precious ores. There have been quite a few dwarves here over the years."
It is one of the tasks of the black mountain to always keep an eye on the dwarves. Tracking their movement is one of the best ways of knowing what precious stuff a group has. The dwarves have been swarming this place for the last couple of decades. Now they have cooled off a bit, though.
"Well, every store that you have visited weapons made of mithril, guard.", he replies. As he speaks, I can see his composure breaking. "If you do not consider that precious, I don't know what will be considered precious by you."
"Well, don't get me wrong, mithril is a useful metal to make a weapon.", I reply. "But, if dwarves want mithril they don't even need to leave their houses. I would have assumed something a bit rarer would have moved them into action. Something that I would have been able to use."
"Well, the dwarves made a deal with the commander, guard. The nobles were not involved in the matter.", he replies. As he speaks, the panic on his face makes it clear that he just told me something interesting.
"I would have assumed that you nobles would have forced yourself into the deal?" I reply.
"Well, what the commander wants to do is his wish. Regardless, do you think maintaining this fort is a cheap or easy task?" he replies, with a wary expression. The man knows he has slipped up.
"That is true.", I reply, going back to my drink. I don't point out the fact that the man would have sold off all that ore if he wanted to keep the place running. No, there is something else going on here.
"How long shall we waste our time here? None of the shops that we have visited have contained what you want.", he says. His annoyance is barely concealed as he does so.
"What I want is vital, my fellow," I reply. "Anyway, this is a fort. Why do you have so many shops?. A single shop would have been enough."
"Well, that is related to how many families make this place their base.", he replies. "Every noble here maintains their own shop. Not having a shop would damage our reputation a bit too much."
"Well, that is quite surprising if I am honest.", I wonder. "I was under the assumption that you nobles were not ones to come to the frozen peak. With that many shops, there must be quite a few nobles here."
"Well, all you shall find here are bastards, guard. Even the nobles need a place to throw their useless ones.", he replies, a touch defensively. "That is why you shall find the fighting between nobles even more cutthroat here."
"Is this the reason that you are so worried about my safety?" I ask.
"Something like that. You are something of a problem to the nobles, if I have to be honest.", the noble speaks. "Let's just say if some radical bastard were to kill you for your crimes. His family would punish them by sending them down south."
Well, it would be more accurate to call that a reward. The southern border of the snow wind empire is a bloody mess, if I am honest. It is a profitable mess, though. It is the only place you can go to build a reputation in this nation. I am sure that every ambitious person in this country hopes to be stationed there.
"Well, then it must be quite annoying to have to guard me.", I reply.
"It would be wise if you do not provoke the nobles too much.", he replies, with a rare bit of passion. "It is only the presence of lord Jacob that you are alive. That, too, is only because he does not want his honor to be blemished."
Well, I am sure that Jacob and Eric would be the very first people to stab me in the back. The only reason they are not doing anything is that they fear the commander. The commander will not let me die. He won't mind if I am tortured or maimed but he won't see me die.
I am sure of this. This confidence is not because of my identity as a representative of the black mountain. (I mean that is there, but how sacred do you think the folks here are of the black mountain. You can't even see the hexmountain here.) I am sure that the commander knows my identity now. He won't like the backlash of my death.
"Well, then I will have to bow to the man.", I finally reply, catching the man off guard. They consider being called dependent on others to be an insult. "If only your markets had what I needed."
"Why can you not use mithril? Your formations need materials that can allow mana to flow through them. I don't know of anything that allows mana to flow better than mithril.", he says. If you ask me, he sounds a bit shaken from the failure of his provocation.
"Well, can you draw on water?" I ask him.
"Well, no.", he replies.
"Using mithril is like drawing on water. I can send in every bit of my mana into the material, and still I won't be able to let anything stick to it.", I reply. "Now, dwarves make use of formations even more than we humans. Their demand for those materials is tremendous. Now, if they keep coming to this place, the markets should be full of such materials.
This makes the man opposite me pause for a moment.
"Well, if you consider that the dwarves value these materials so much. Maybe they would have taken it all with them.", he replies, pondering on it. "After all, the commander would be more interested in mithril weapons."
"Now, you would think that.", I reply, wondering if I should reveal it. Fuck it. "Dwarves are more creative than that. The dwarves tend to leave at least half of the things they mine to their local lord. After all, anything that the dwarves give to you will finally end up in their hands."
"Now, why would that be?" replies Eric. I can see the man's focus shifting. He does seem to be pretty curious about the dwarves.
"Well, everything that the dwarves give you will always be something that you can use only to make weapons. Whether that be metals like mithril or materials that can be used to craft formations on weapons. They do this to cut the costs of their mining." I reply. Now comes the bait. "As long as it is a weapon, it will ultimately end up in a dwarf's forge, my friend. It does make one wonder, though, where all of these materials are."
The man sits there for a few moments as if he is deciding whether he should speak on it or not.
"Well, there is a shop. Though it is in one of the more shady parts of the fort.", he speaks finally. "If you don't find what you need there, you will not find it here." (I am a bit disappointed that the man did not take the bait.)
"How can a fort have a shady place?" I ask.
"Well, it exists.", he replies. "The person who runs this shop is a friend of mine. She might have what you need. Though you shouldn't pry into her identity."
"Well, if she has what I want, why would I be worried about who she is?" I reply while getting up.
(After about half an hour.)
After reaching this place, I understand why Eric calls this part of the fort shady. Firstly, the buildings here are so close together. It is very claustrophobic.
Right now, there is barely enough space on the road for me to walk. The roads here are thin enough that I can barely stretch my hand in it. The people here are also quite suspicious. Well, suspicious would be the wrong word. It would be better to call it desperate. Every soldier here has some serious injury or the other.
Some of them have their hands in splints. Some of them have missing limbs. The only thing that is truly common among them is a sense of desperation. We do not spend a lot of time in the streets, thankfully. Looking at these people leaves me a bit uncomfortable.
The shop itself does not deserve to be called a shop. (Unless you consider a table with a few materials placed on it to be a shop.) Most of what is on the table is various ores of iron, with a few ores of mithril. With Eric in here, the shop is full.
The owner of the shop does not inspire confidence. While, compared to the people outside, he is leagues better, he is still painfully thin. He looks like a starved skeleton. Even before the shopkeeper can speak.
"Where is Lady Emily?" Eric asks. His expression is somewhere between annoyance and confusion.
"She is with her cohort. They have been assigned a mission." He replies. "She will return by the end of the week. Until then, I will take care of her shop."
Hearing this, Eric's expression turns to annoyance. He doesn't speak anymore as he stands aside.
"Are you going to even be buying anything?" the shopkeeper asks.
"Well, that depends on what you have to provide. What you have on the table is nothing special.", I reply.
"You certainly talk big, bastard. The only reason that I am not kicking you out is because Eric brought you.", he says. "Show me that you can pay, and I will show you the good stuff."
Hearing this, I feel a twinge of annoyance. I don't like to be called a bastard. I don't reply to this other than throwing a bag in his direction. He opens it and quickly begins to count the mana stones that are present in it.
"Three class seven mana stones in total. You are certainly a rich man.", he says. "Fine, I will show you the good stuff."
Well, the way the man spoke about it, it seemed as if I was somehow disturbing his peace. He disappears for a few seconds but finally appears with the smallest chest I have ever seen in my life.
I don't even need Eric to tell me that the man is showing his private collection. No shop, however destitute, would have so little to show.
"I have three things that might be worth your time.", he says.
He proceeds to remove a piece of rock from the box. Even as he removes the rock, I can feel the abnormal amount of fire mana.
"Well, this is supposed to be a piece of mithril ore that has been strengthened by a strain of sun stone.", the man says. "It is supposed to be a very rare metal. You would be able to craft weapons of the fire affinity."
The material itself is pretty useless to me. Firstly, it is mithril, and then there is the fact that there is no fire mana in the frozen wastelands. At least not enough to be useful.
"Well, I do not want that.", I reply. "Do not show me anything related to Mithril."
"Fine.", he says, annoyed as he removes a piece of wood from the box.
"Well, this is a piece of ice bark tree.", he says. "It is supposed to be able to channel massive amounts of ice mana into itself."
"How would you be pricing that?" I ask the man. I can't use it to make a formation core, but I will be able to use it for some other things.
"Well, I will require at least a class 7 magic stone for it.", he replies.
"For that, I would be willing to give at most two class 8 magic stones.", I reply.
"You bastard, that is a fifth of what I stated to you.", he replies, getting agitated. "This is a high-quality piece of ice bark tree. I can sell it to the soldier, and they would be willing to give five pieces of class-seven mana stones for it. It can absorb the chill from your flesh, you know."
"Well, then and go sell it to them unless you think that they will put you to death", I reply, losing my cool a bit. I do not like to be called a bastard. "I am sure that you must have stolen it from somewhere yourself. Whose grave did you rob?"
Saying this, I leave the damn shop in a huff, my guard behind me collecting the bag that I had forgotten there. I almost do not notice the dagger flying at me as my hand moves to intercept it, almost on instinct.