2-25 Veiled sword
The Sword Saint’s Second Life As a Fox Girl
2-25 Veiled sword
The morning of Quinteburg brought a disparate feeling to that of Green Scar. In Green Scar, Erin could feel the eagerness of the townâs folk at dawn of every new day. People greeted each other when they walked by, but in Quinteburg, Erin saw none of those. Under some of those smiles she had seen among the festivity, there was despair and melancholy. The morning here was too brimming with life and it was certainly loud but that was the extent of it. On the surface this town was a place filled with promises but at a narrow glance, those promises came at great costs and some of those promises never even bore fruit.
The recent aberrant happenings werenât the reason but it did worsened the veiled gloomy mood of the town. Erin was surprised to learn of the foodâs prices when they were having their supper at a random eatery. It was doubled the price in Green Scar. Everything was more expensive here but the quality wasnât that much different. In fact, some were even inferior to Green Scar. There was a lot of demand for everything but not every business was able to meet the demand, giving rise to the cause of the high prices. Even the inn they were currently staying at was nothing of exorbitant. The cost for one night could last them three days in Green Scarâs Verdant Inn.
After having some light meal of pure vegetable sandwich for breakfast, Erin decided to scour the town alone. Lyra and Celia had proposed to tag along but in her better judgement, Erin insisted on going alone as it would be less conspicuous. To further be less conspicuous, she cast Twilight Veil on herself. It was the second time she had used it and the first time Lyra had witnessed it. Short black hair without the tails and ears. Her eyes became dark brown. Lyra was drooling at the ânewâ Erin but Celia hid behind Lyraâs legs. Lyra instantly proposed to Erin to keep this appearance for their nightly activities but Erin knocked her head as an answer.
In her disguised appearance, Erin strode through the town while keeping vigilance towards any unruly individuals. Erinâs intent was to familiarize herself with the town and at the same time, find out what she could about the Corvas Twins. Iris had promised to help but in a town where her sources were limited to a relatively modest amount, it would take a day at least for any related information to surface.
Erin and Lyra had gone back to the Guild yesterday after their supper to turn in their escort quest. They received their reward from the Guild, which was a heap of gold. Although the gold was given to them by the Guild, it was technically paid out of Irisâ pocket. The amount was clearly more than what she had told the pair. Erin wasnât that good with numbers and neither was Lyra, so the two didnât pursue the matter further. As the expenses were higher in Mavenâs Creek, Erin didnât think the gold was too much. As they were leaving, the kind Guild receptionist had given them some information regarding the town in a form of a list on a paper.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
With the paper in hand, Erin was currently walking through a street scattered with stalls. These stalls werenât of the merchants but the locals. Apparently, it was currently the harvest season for this town and it was purely coincidental that the merchant caravans arrived at such an impeccable time, or so she was told. Due to the merchant caravans on the other end of the town, the crowd wasnât too packed in this area. The stalls mainly sold vegetables, poultries, liquors, and such. There was nothing unique about all those products displayed. As Erin passed by a few more similar stalls, she came to the conclusion that this town was one that valued quantity over quality. Even so, the town could not keep up with the demand with that mindset.
One aspect Erin could applaud Quinteburgh for was its security. There were guard patrols at every corner but at the same time, the Ruvan Paladins could also be found everywhere although not at the numbers of the town guards. Erin roughly guessed for every ten guards, there was one Ruvan Paladin lurking about. Since she was in disguise, she didnât draw much attention to herself. Still, she did garnered quite a lot of curious gazes from the passersby. She managed to hide her true race but her beauty was still plain in view.
âWhat a sinful woman I am,â Erin praised herself but regretted it in the next second. She was someone with pride but not someone egoistical.
As she turned into a corner of the street, she was greeted by rows of blacksmith shops. There were at least half a dozen smithies in this street alone. From the information given to her by the Guild, there was a district, known as the Gold District, where only the richest wandered in. In that district, there was a blacksmith who could forge arms of high quality. But looking at the quality of these common smiths alone, Erin didnât have much expectation for the blacksmith in the Gold District. Although she did think her standards were dulled by Svenâs adept craftsmanship.
Looking at the price of a single steel sword, Erin fought down the urge to make her complaint. Her silver-steel saber cost as much as a single steel sword here and the quality wasnât that much better. It really deepened Erinâs perception of just how dire the situation the town was actually in. Asking around the blacksmiths, the recent anomalies had cause the adventurers and their suppliers to demand for a higher price in retrieving the metal ores from the wilderness, something the blacksmiths couldnât just nod their heads to.
Erin had half a mind to purchase another sword as a contingency but knowing the quality, she had some reservations. What surprised her even more was that none of the blacksmiths here knew how to smelt silver and steel into one kind. They all told her the same answer, it was ridiculous and impossible to achieve for blacksmiths of their level. Erin then remembered how Geron had been a blacksmith before taking on the role of the Guild Master. He was taught by Elven masters in the way of the smith, which he then passed on the knowledge to his sons.
âSven is really something else huh...â
Only now, Erin realized how fortunate she had been as Green Scarâs town was the first settlement she came by. No doubt she would hold a more unpleasant view towards this world had she been reincarnated near Mavenâs Creek.
Just as she was thinking about leaving this disappointing street that stung her soul every time she laid her eyes upon the poor quality of these swords, a familiar scent tingled her nose and reeled her attention. She turned to her back and found the two Wolf-kin siblings of the Blackwood Tribe, bargaining with a blacksmith regarding some purchase.
âOh right, Siv did lose her sword back then.â
It didnât look like it was going well since the male sibling, Wrev was pulling on the collar of the blacksmith while casting an intense glare
Erin didnât intend to interfere, as she was in disguise, until Wrev raised his fist. Erin hastened her movements with Fleet Foot and covered the short distance between them in seconds. She grabbed hold of Wrevâs arm and yanked him back.
Erin underestimated Wrev. He was quick to react and he turned her hold against her. He twisted his body around and turned his fist to her. Erin dodged his punch but he was already winding up another. But before he could throw that punch, Siv landed a straight kick to his side that sent him sprawling across the ground.
âThank you,â Siv thanked Erin before turning to the blacksmith. âForgive us about that, Master Smith. My brother is still unversed towards the rules and ethics of humans,â Siv apologized with grace that contrasted her brotherâs demeanor completely.
âI donât care about all that,â the smith responded with a scoff. âYouâre either buying or you get the hell out of my shop. His threat ainât the first I receive and I donât expect it to be the last. Now, sixty silver, take it or leave it. No more bargaining. I got other work to do, be quick about it.â
Siv was still hesitating but Erin tossed a pouch of silver to the blacksmith. âWeâll take it.â
The blacksmith received the pouch without a word. He weighted the pouch in his palm before handing the steel sword to Siv and disappeared to the back.
âLady Erinthea, you donât have toââ
âTreat this as my gratitude, Siv. You helped me a lot and you were quite⦠good in bed,â Erin said with a warm smile but her smile quickly faded. âWait⦠how did you know it was me?â She touched her hair and where her ears were supposed to be; her hair was still short and she couldnât feel her ears.
Siv tittered. âYour scent, milady. After that night, I could never forget your scent,â said Siv without a shred of embarrassment present on her expression.
âThat Fae?â Wrev groaned as he slowly got himself off the ground.
âWrev, mind your words and manners before you eat dirt again.â
âThis Fae is the one you gave your virtue to? What were you thinking, Siv?â
Siv glared at her brother. âShe has earned my respect, Wrev. You are to show her yours too. You are to address her as Lady Erinthea.â
âDonât let your guard down, Siv. They may act sophisticated but the moment you give them your trust, theyâllâ pfft!â Before Wrev could finish his sentence, Siv drove a straight into his belly.
Erin ignored the now whimpering Wrev. âWhy did you buy a sword from a local smith? Iâm sure one of your employerâs peers would have a sword worthy of your skill and affordable for your budget.â
âThose swords are excessive for a person of my level. A weapon must be on par with its wielder, only then could one determine their true strength.â
âThat creed again...â Wrev muttered in between his groans. He was still clutching his belly. âSiv, weâre on our own now. No use following the creed.â
Like Erin, Siv too ignored her brotherâs rambling. âWell then, Lady Erinthea. I must bid you farewell for now. We have a timetable to adhere to.â
âThen I wonât delay you further. Till we meet again, Siv.â
âItâs always an honor to be in your presence, Lady Erinthea. Should you feel lonely at night, I will always be available to you,â Siv said and walked down the street along with her Wrev.
âW-what? I thought night was your shift?â Erin heard Wrev complain as the sibling disappeared into a corner but she paid it no heed.
Erin resumed her walk along the streets lined with smithies. Out of the seven smithies on this street, only one of them had a Dwarrow at the forge. It went without saying the Dwarrowâs craft was significantly better than other blacksmiths. However, the Dwarrowâs smithy was also the one with the least customers. In fact, Erin saw none approach the Dwarrowâs shop ever since she strode into this street.
The Dwarrowâs smithy was the smallest among the seven. On closer inspection, it couldnât even be called a shop. It was more like a booth. The Dwarrow had his forge to the open air unlike the other smithies which kept their forge hidden in the shop.
As Erin approached the Dwarrowâs smithy, she noticed a rack of swords which could only be described as disorderly. The swords were randomly leaned against the rack instead of being properly placed. All of the swords there were used and rusty. Among these swords, one stood out to her. It looked just like any other sword without any interesting features to note. However, Erin could feel the history it had and all the blood it shed. The former wielder had taken great care of this sword. She used her Spirit Sight on instinct and found Spirits were latching on that sword, covering the entirety of the swordâs body. Upon Appraisal, she discovered the sword was under the effect of Twilight Veil.
Her interest was instantly piqued.
âPardon me, master smith,â Erin called out to the Dwarrow.
The Dwarrow was working the forge and he spared only a sidelong glance at Erin. âWhatcha want, lassie? Ya looking for a weapon, taking a gander at myâ ooh, thatâs a fine sword ya got there, lassie. Welp, ya be disappointed, lassie. My swords wonât be better than the one ya already have.â
âI want to ask about this sword,â she said and took the sword into her hand from the rack.
âOh those swords? Theyâre used and old. Smelting them back to materials ainât worth the time and gold. Might as well sell them off for a small profit.â
âPeople will buy these?â
âGreenhorns will. They often donât have enough for a proper sword. These swords will serve them just fine until they get enough silver to get a proper sword.â
âWhat about this sword in particular?â Erin did a few practice swings with the sword.
âOh that? Got it from a passing merchant. He got it from the original owner. Itâs a family heirloom but as you can see, the swordâs care is neglected by the family.â
âWas the merchant some sort of collector?â
âNah, just some plain merchant.â
âThe original owner sold his heirloom off to some random merchant?â
âAh, he didnât sell it. The original owner killed himself with this sword, running from gambling debts apparently, ran straight into his own sword, heh. The swordâs a fine craft, no question, but canât sell it for its real worth now. The steelâs rusted and the blades chipped more than a highwaymanâs serrated dagger. Fucking sods have no respect for swords.â
âCurious...â Erin muttered. âIâll take it. How much?â
âYou will? Iâm sure you can afford a better sword, lassie. Ya certainly no greenhorn and with how fair yer skin is, Iâm sure you have enough silver to spend for a proper sword.â
âThat wonât be necessary. This sword is just what I need, if I can just dispel the Twilight Veil cast on it somehow.â
âWell, if ya say so. That will be a silver. Everythingâs a silver from that rack.â
âOnly a silver? I know itâs rusted and chipped but itâs such a fine craft though.â
âLass, Iâm no collector and certainly ainât no posh appraiser. I judge a swordâs value by how fine of a cut it could leave. That sword, I doubt it will leave a cut at all. But I reckon ya can still beat some fool with it and itâll hurt. A silver, unless youâre willing to pay more, lassie.â
Erin said nothing more and paid a silver to the Dwarrow. She sheathed the rusted sword into the scabbard of the broadsword she lost to the Razor Grizzly.
âIâll make that Necromancer pay for that. For now, letâs figure out how to dispel this spell, if I can.â