Pass?
What kind of question is that?
When Gauss heard Albena ask, he couldn't help feeling a little awkward. Maybe she could have a bit more confidence?
In the end, he didn't say what he was thinking. He simply nodded with studied calm.
"Of course—if you don't mind joining our party, we'll be counting on you for the next contract."
He extended his hand politely.
"Great!" Albena grabbed his hand with both of hers.
"Then, Sir Gauss, I hope we work well together."
Her grip clamped down like a pair of iron tongs. He instinctively tried to pull free. The first attempt failed—no movement. He increased his strength.
Crack, crack—
A strange, crisp sound.
"Hiss—"
Gauss couldn't stop a sharp intake of breath. So this was the absolute difference in raw strength.
"Albena, look…"
He gave up struggling and glanced meaningfully at their still-locked hands.
"Oh! Sorry, sorry—I was thinking about the commission and drifted off." Albena seemed to realize and let go at once, a faint blush rising as she chuckled awkwardly.
Gauss shot her a suspicious look. He could have sworn the back of his hand got one last "accidental" rub.
Was Albena a little… off?
A suspicion flickered—and he threw it out. He didn't suffer from romantic delusions—seeing a look or a smile and imagining the other person was in love with him. Odds were, she was just like that with everyone—he'd assume she was simply a good sort. As for how she treated Jon—well, who smiles at someone who owes them money?
Since the yard had been "accidentally" destroyed, they each gave a brief demonstration, discussed tactics against the monsters, and headed back to Gold & Silver.
As with every new join, Gauss marked Albena's temporary addition with a welcome dinner. He booked out a tavern—not as pricey as you'd think, given the town's thin adventurer crowd.
"Albena, are you famous in Gold & Silver?" Gauss asked, noticing the bartender and servers sneaking glances her way. Her build drew eyes, sure, but it felt like more than that. She'd changed back into casual clothes.
(Her armor was enchanted, able to shift between battle gear and everyday wear with a gesture. She'd worn full kit on the road only to show strength and stamina.) A relief to Gauss—his storage pouch wouldn't have to carry a third of her load the whole job.
"Hehe, I, uh, caused a little… commotion back then," Albena scratched her head. "Old story, not important."
So—probably not "a little." But since she didn't want to say, he didn't pry. It clearly wasn't serious; she wouldn't be living here legally otherwise. And the looks she got weren't fear—just curiosity.
"Let's order?"
Since they'd come early and had the place to themselves, the food came fast: steaming roasts, stews, bread, and a local rock-grown mushroom soup.
Once the meal started, Gauss glanced at Albena. She began with a few minutes of dainty, unfamiliar restraint—then tossed it aside. A slab of roast that would feed a normal person half a day—she chewed briefly and swallowed in one go. Then another. Then another.
Gauss swallowed. For once, he felt there was always someone bigger—and then there was Albena. If she'd been born in his past life, she'd be a natural food streamer. Watching her eat made you hungry—Alia and Shadow's stunned faces proved it.
"Eat up, everyone," Albena said, licking her lips. A few hunks of meat had merely whetted her appetite—and she was in a good mood.
Gauss didn't hold back either. The two ate like chess rivals, in silent contest. Thankfully, the kitchen was cooking only for them and kept up. Empty platters vanished, full ones appeared; time flowed. Alia, Shadow, and Serandur had long since finished; they sipped fruit wine and watched the show. Turns out "mukbang" works in any world.
Alia sipped, looked at Gauss, then at Albena. She felt a strange competitive spark between them—but had no proof beyond knowing Gauss's normal appetite; by now he'd usually stop. But tonight… he kept going.
When he finished the last piece of stew, Gauss set down his utensils and leaned back. He conceded. Albena's physique was simply too great an advantage. Even with [Special Stomach]—able to convert surplus food into a "second mana bar"—he couldn't beat a true born powerhouse.
Albena picked at the remains alone for a while, then dabbed her lips with a napkin. Satisfying. She turned to Gauss—surprise in her eyes. So refined and gentle in looks, yet he could eat. How… how charming. Truly the man who had won her approval at first sight.
…
The next day, after they left the Guild, Alia rolled up with a flatbed piled with provisions.
"Isn't that a bit much? We won't need that many days," Gauss said, eyeing the mountain. He knew why—the "Eating King Showdown" had spooked their quartermaster. But it wasn't necessary; yesterday he'd just met his match. Normally, he didn't eat like that. And in a pinch, he carried gems and precious metal shavings as emergency food—[Special Stomach] could convert them to mana fast.
"No—better safe than sorry," Alia said, stubborn. Two big eaters in the party meant supplies had to keep up. Gauss nodded and stowed the food in his medium pouch.
"Let's go."
Albena had a mount—a northern reindeer. Not a common breed. Hers was massive—shoulder nearly 2.2 meters—thick and burly, pelt mottled deep brown and gray-white like natural camouflage. She'd forged a metal helm for it, covering most of its head and leaving steady, fierce eyes.
It radiated the same weighty ferocity she did. Only such a beast could carry her; ordinary mounts would struggle. Gauss's chocobo sidled a few steps away—instinctive unease. Time would fix it.
This striking little procession set out under many curious eyes, heading for Brennan Mine. On the road, Gauss found the reindeer, for its size, fast and enduring—able to keep an easy pace with them. On that alone, he'd bet it could outrun plenty of elites.
Soon they reached the overlook from yesterday—bleak as before.
"Albena, know this area?"
"Sorry, Sir Gauss—I've never been. I'm from the far north," she said.
"Alright—Shadow, more recon. We need the layout, enemy distribution, and traps."
One route wasn't enough—if something happened, they'd need options to withdraw. Best was to feel out the entire knot of tunnels.
"Understood," Shadow nodded—this was her role. Yesterday she'd pulled out to report and let Gauss decide. Now, with the job confirmed, she was ready to map the whole labyrinth—no small task, but that's why scouts mattered.
Gauss laid [Omni-Armor] on her, and Alia and Serandur layered buffs. Shadow nodded once—and shadow swallowed her. She folded into the earth and streaked down the slope.
Albena nodded to herself. She admitted she'd joined on impulse at first—one look at Gauss and she'd leapt—but after the demo and time together, she felt this was no ordinary team.
Gauss in particular didn't feel like an "elite"—more like a master, not far off from her. Now the quiet, black-haired girl showed a unique power—the value of a gifted scout far beyond an ordinary Level 5 rogue. And their synergy… no wonder they had the confidence for this.
"Rest a bit," Gauss called from the shade. Albena had stood thinking and not followed; she looked over—his face was flawless even in dappled shadow—and smiled. "Coming."
If she was honest, the team's greatest attraction was still the handsome one.
Above, Raven Echo and his little flock circled, eyes out; if they spotted movement below, they'd return to report.
"Sir Gauss, hungry?" Albena sat across, producing a fragrant cake from who-knows-where. Gauss shook his head.
"Thanks—not yet." They'd eaten before setting out. Albena tucked it away. Serandur watched, belatedly wondering if Albena… liked the captain? Hard to say—watch and see.
…
Deep under Brennan Mine.
A vast natural dome refashioned into a "square" hung thick with stone dust. Pale light fell from above—phosphorescent green moss clinging to the rock bathed the chamber in eerie glow.
A cohort of rough-scaled, hard-eyed kobold warriors drilled with picks and short spears in a practiced cadence, throaty chants grating in rhythm. Their movements were orderly—nothing like raw rabble.
A few elites—marked with bone trophies on their heads and candles clasped in claw—ringed the square, conferring in low voices. Their blood-red, cunning eyes probed the edges; sharp, piping orders adjusted the formation.
Farther out, the rock face bristled with hive-like cavelets. Thinner kobolds filed from their holes into a black tunnel leading deeper. They passed smoky hearths where special kobold smiths hammered ore. Metal would be smelted—crudely—from stone.
One smith lifted a red-hot billet in tongs and set it to cool. The furnace heat steamed the sweat from its scales, but the diligent creature seemed not to notice. In that brief lull it, like the others, turned its gaze to the deepest reach of the nest—eyes alight with awe and fanaticism.
There, at the heart—was the "Master" they would gladly die to serve.