“Achoo!” The bitter taste of the herbal root instantly flooded her mouth.
“Pah, pah, pah!”
Margarita shook her head like a kitten drying its fur, spat the remains of the herbal root into a corner, and crouched back against the wall. Constance had already returned to her position behind the wooden crates.
The two of them waited. The scout at the bakery hadn't returned, his whereabouts unknown. The one in front of the tailor shop had also disappeared half an hour ago.
This was not a good sign.
The good news was that her headache had subsided; the herbal root Clara gave her really worked.
The bad news was... there was no news. They had been waiting for so long, yet there wasn't a single stir from this small tavern. She had been hoping to go inside and find a seat by the hearth.
“Small shops really are something,” Margarita said, sticking her tongue out as the bitter taste lingered. “When they say they open at two in the afternoon, they open exactly at two.”
“There is something even more 'something' than that,” Constance said.
“What?”
“The Diestwald family might already be entirely comprised of Sacrosanct Circle members.”
Margarita fell silent for a moment. “...Sister, couldn't you let me stay happy for just two more seconds?”
“I could,” Constance said, looking at Margarita. “If you can find evidence that they are involved with the Sacrosanct Circle, the Windermeres will send every last one of them to the Northern Frontier for hard labor.”
Margarita’s eyes lit up.
Really? Just ship them off? Irene, Erica, you two absolutely must find that anchor!
...
In a certain forest on the outskirts of Arlan.
“Achoo!” Patrick sneezed violently, nearly losing his grip on his short spear. “...Irene, are you sure there’s an anchor in Arlan? Maybe the three of us should just go shopping instead?”
“You should be glad the Consultant isn't here. If she heard that, she’d probably find a way to prank you again.” Irene held her detector as she ventured deeper into the forest, but the five crystals on the device showed no movement.
“No unusual mana fluctuations within a 300-meter radius,” Erica reported, the faint light of Mana Perception still shimmering in her hand. She gave an update every few steps. “The Consultant must have her reasons for wanting us to do this. Just do it and don’t ask questions.”
“...Wait, something has entered my perception range.”
Erica raised her hand, signaling them to stop. All three froze instantly.
“The mana flow is chaotic and disordered,” she frowned. “Most likely a low-tier demon, but why would a low-tier demon be here?”
Irene pulled a map from her backpack and spread it on the ground. Patrick leaned over to look, pointing to a small wooded area on the map. “We’re here. Should we just mark it and head back to the inn like the Consultant said, or look deeper?”
“It’s just a low-tier demon, and we aren't even certain yet.” Irene aimed the detector in the direction Erica indicated, but the five crystals remained still. “Let’s get a bit closer, but be prepared.”
She pulled out a vial of purple alchemical medicine.
“My latest research,” she said with a proud look, nodding as she held up the potion for the other two. “I added some tissue extracted from that mid-tier demon we killed in the dry well. Smearing it on your skin might make low-tier demons actively avoid us. Of course, this is the first time it’s being used in a formal setting, so I can’t guarantee the results. Want to try it?”
“We’re already here,” Patrick said, rolling up his sleeves. “What choice do we have?”
“Are you sure this has no side effects?” Erica looked at the purple liquid, her brow furrowing. “The alchemy instructor said that alchemical potions need at least three rounds of stability testing before formal use.”
“I did two rounds,” Irene said.
“Two rounds?”
“I didn't have time for the third before we left,” Irene blinked. “Special circumstances require special measures—the Consultant said so.”
Erica stared at the potion for a moment, then sighed and rolled up her sleeves.
The three of them smeared the alchemical medicine onto their arms and ankles. The potion felt cool upon contact, and a very faint purple luster shimmered on the surface of their skin before slowly soaking in and disappearing after a few seconds. Patrick flexed his arm and sniffed his wrist. “No smell. I thought it would reek like rotten eggs.”
“Just because you can’t smell it doesn't mean the demons can’t.” Irene packed away the empty vial. “Let’s go. Follow Erica.”
The three moved toward the direction where Erica had sensed the mana flow. The forest grew denser, the canopy blocking out most of the sky. The light grew dim, and the layer of fallen leaves beneath their feet thickened, letting out damp rustling sounds with every step.
“...The source of the mana flow has moved away.”
Patrick’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape.
“Irene! Your invention actually worked?!”
“I think you’re asking for trouble.” A vein popped on Irene's forehead. “The potion might not take effect that quickly; it might have just left on its own. Don’t celebrate too early.”
“Then why did it leave on its own?” Patrick pressed.
Irene was stumped. She couldn't answer that question, and that was exactly what made her uneasy. Low-tier demons wouldn't leave their territory without reason—unless something they feared even more had appeared.
“Keep moving,” she said. “Stay alert.”
The three continued deeper into the forest. Although the source had moved, Erica pointed out that the spot where it had just been was likely the direction of the anchor. She crouched down, placing her palm on the ground, doubling the range of her Mana Perception.
“There are faint spatial fluctuations ahead, similar to the anchor at the quarry,” she said, standing up and brushing the dirt from her hands while maintaining her basic perception spell. “But the intensity is very low. I’m not sure if it’s a complete anchor or just residual traces.”
“Should we mark it first?” Patrick asked.
“We confirm it first.” Irene kept her eyes fixed on the detector. The first crystal slowly lit up—a very faint glow, but it was definitely on.
The moment the crystal on the detector lit up, Erica’s expression changed.
“Something’s here! A lot of them! The same mana flow as before—there are more than ten!”
“Holy crap, fall back!”
Irene grabbed her backpack and stuffed the detector inside, then smashed a marking alchemy flask onto the ground. Erica was already retreating in the direction they came from, converting her Mana Perception into a Light spell and throwing it behind her.
It illuminated more than a dozen pairs of murky, yellow, slit pupils.
“They’re all low-tier demons!” Erica shouted as she ran. “But there are too many!”
Patrick ran in the rear, his short spear held horizontally behind him as he glanced back every few seconds. “Don’t they have territorial divisions?! Why are they in a pack?!”
“I don't know! Stop asking and just run!”
They tore through the forest. Erica led the way, clumsily using Wind Blades to clear a path, while Irene tossed alchemical tools behind her until smoke spread through the trees, temporarily obscuring the demons' vision.
After running for about ten minutes, the sounds behind them gradually faded. The three stopped under a tree.
Erica expanded her Mana Perception once more to confirm there were no pursuers, and the three finally sat down right where they were, letting out sighs of relief.
Patrick panted heavily while Irene opened her backpack to check and count their tools and instruments.
“The fact that they were grouping together... isn't normal.” Erica looked at the other two. “We need to go back and report this.”
Irene nodded. “I’ve already marked that location.”
“Then let’s get going.” Patrick patted his trousers and stood up. “I can’t shake the feeling that something else is still watching us here.”
The three returned the way they came. In the distance, Arlan City looked dark in the twilight. They quickened their pace toward the city, and none of them mentioned “shopping” again.
Rate on N.U.
