Chapter 113: The World is Good, Ancestors are Kind

The instant the blur collided with me, I nearly staggered, but reflexes—bless their split-second magic—saved me. My body pivoted like a well-oiled machine, right foot sliding back to anchor me, heel angled just so to soak up the impact. My arms counterbalanced instinctively, and my fingers flexed in preparation—ready to defend, but wisely holding their fire. The force that might’ve toppled me fizzled harmlessly, dissipating through my adjusted posture instead of bowling me over. Crisis averted.

I glanced at the girl now sprawled on the ground, rubbing her head, looking every bit the picture of “oops.”

Oddly, I noticed something else, too: masks—or the distinct lack thereof. In this bustling crowd of a few hundred souls, maybe one or two other people wore them. Otherwise, it was just me, playing the lone masked crusader in a sea of bare faces. The same went for the girl in front of me.

She was Saryn—a serpent kin—impossible to miss with those distinctive features. Green scales patterned her neck, and her golden-green eyes, slit-pupiled and gleaming, were sharp. Delicate, flexible spines extended behind her ears, their translucent tips catching the light just right. Long black braids cascaded down her back, dotted with intricate accessories that screamed wealth.

Speaking of wealth, her attire wasn’t exactly low-district chic. The fabric alone could pay for someone’s next ten meals, and that wasn’t counting the craftsmanship. It wasn’t just her either—most of the people here were dressed like they’d wandered in from the upper or middle districts. I guess that made sense; this market was famed for its rare and exotic goods, a magnet for anyone with coin to burn.

The Saryn girl was clutching a bag that, thanks to our little encounter, had vomited its contents onto the ground. Ingredients lay scattered—herbs, powders, oils, metals, and a few other curiosities that raised an eyebrow. She gasped and dropped to her knees, scrambling to gather her things.

“Ahh, I’m so sorry!” she said, her voice rushed and panicked as she tried to corral the wayward items. “I wasn’t paying attention!”

I sighed, crouching to help her. Honestly, my first instinct had been to throw a punch—old habits die hard when you’re used to monsters barreling into you. But this wasn’t a fight, and I didn’t want to accidentally launch her into next week.

As I handed her the items, my eyes caught on something—a mirror. A beautifully ornate one, engraved with intricate, glowing sigils. Specifically, I recognized a web of runes for containment and protection. My frown deepened.

And then there were the other ingredients. Iridescent Draught, rare metals, and more rare powders. It clicked: these were the makings of a ritual—specifically one involving Parda. My stomach twisted. Was she planning a mirror summoning? If so, everyone around her might be in for a very bad day.

What worried me most was the mirror itself. The runes were etched directly onto the frame—a glaring mistake. Those symbols belonged in a ritual circle, tethered to the caster, not carved into a reflective surface where they could go haywire. Who thought this was a good idea?

But maybe I was overthinking. Paranoia’s a side effect of my line of work. I handed the last of her items back and stood, forcing a polite smile.

She bowed, still flustered. “Again, I’m so, so sorry for that!”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, brushing it off with a shrug. “I wasn’t the one who fell. Are you okay?”

She winced, her weight shifting awkwardly. “Might’ve landed wrong on my foot, but eh, don’t worry—I’ll be fine! One healing potion, and I’m good as new...” She trailed off, glancing nervously at the market’s distant stalls. “After I get home, that is. Oh ancestors, I still need to find a few more ingredients—half of which I don’t even know how to identify! And it’s almost night! I’M SCREWED if I’m late by even a minute.”

She had the energy of a babbling brook after a rainstorm, words spilling out unfiltered, unconsidered, and entirely too much. Most people would clam up or get cagey if caught with ingredients that raised even a whiff of illegality. Not her. Either she was blissfully unaware of what she’d bought or too naive to care.

“I think you’re correct, mistress,” Alice’s voice chimed in, calm and even. “I detect an undercurrent of excitement and mild anxiety. Not even a whisper of dread—the kind any reasonable person should feel before attempting something as risky as mirror summoning.”

That… sounded plausible. She hadn’t flinched or panicked when I eyed her stash, and her lack of wariness screamed inexperience. Still, better safe than sorry. I decided to probe a little further, casually.

“I’ve got quite a bit of experience with rare components and alchemical reagents,” I offered smoothly. “If you’d like, I could help you track down what you’re looking for.” A win-win situation: I’d grab some materials for myself while preventing a potential disaster. Probably.

Her slitted eyes widened with amazement, almost childlike. “Are you sure?!?” she blurted, before shaking her head at her own outburst. “Oh yes, of course you are. Oh, what do they say, Sasha? Never turn away help when it’s offered! No wonder teacher calls you slightly stupid!” She muttered the last part under her breath, seemingly oblivious.

Sasha. Got her name.

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a creased sheet of paper, smoothing it against her palm before holding it out to me. “Thank you so much for this! I’ve marked the ones I’ve identified and bought. Obviously, there were some hiccups, but kind strangers helped me out here and there. Ah, the world is good. Ancestors are kind.” She beamed, her fangs glinting faintly as she handed me the list.

Oh, you sweet, trusting thing. You’re going to get mugged, or worse, one of these days.

I shook my head, sighing as I glanced over her list. Lustreleaf Extract. Mercurial Tear. Spectral Quartz Slivers. Nocturnite Ash. My brows furrowed. The deeper I read, the more certain I became—these weren’t random ingredients. This screamed Parda tampering.

“Well,” I muttered under my breath, already weaving through the crowd toward the stalls, “let’s see what kind of mess we’re cleaning up today.”

“These are some pricey ingredients,” I said, stopping at a stall where two men were deep in conversation with the vendor. My tone was light, as if I was more impressed by the cost than concerned with the purpose. “I’m curious, though—what are you planning to do with such extravagant stuff?” I leaned on the word extravagant, letting awe coat my voice to mask any hint of prying.

Predictably, she didn’t catch on. Of course, she didn’t. Her wide-eyed grin grew even brighter, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Hmph, it’s supposed to be a secret, but I’ll tell you because you helped me for nothing in return!” She nodded to herself, as if this justification made perfect sense. She couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. Whisper would’ve eaten her alive in five seconds flat.

“It’s for my teacher! He’s incredibly wise, and we’re going to try something big!” She hopped in place, nearly spilling her bag again, before catching herself with a hasty cough. “Ahem. Anyway, I’ve been really interested in studying mana arts that don’t involve combat. And these are for that. Totally non-violent.”

Alice’s voice hummed in my mind, calm as always. “She’s telling the truth, mistress. She doesn’t seem to realize these could be used for a dangerous summoning.”

That checked out. I processed Alice’s input while negotiating with the stall owner. “How much for the Nocturnite Ash?” I asked, pointing to a small vial on the counter.

“Three silvers,” he replied without missing a beat.

Expensive, as expected. Too bad I needed it too. But haggling was practically sport in this market, and I wasn’t above trying my luck.

After some back-and-forth, I managed to walk away with two vials for four silvers. Not bad. Sasha practically sparkled beside me, her energy radiating like a hyperactive sun as we moved through more stalls.

She couldn’t stop talking—about her teacher, her studies, and somehow, her legendary skill at devouring sandwiches. That segued into a tale of a chef who supposedly despised her, though she seemed entirely unfazed by his wrath.

Keeping up with her bouncing train of thought was like chasing an eel through muddy water. But at least she was entertaining. And for now, harmless. Probably.

“I wanted to do it for a friend,” Sasha continued, her tone softening with a nostalgic warmth. “Her birthday’s coming up, and I wanted to craft something special or, y’know, try something fun. It’s been almost a year since she got accepted into the Alchemy Tower! I’ll finally get to see her again. I’m so excited—I want to surprise her!”

Oh, great. The odds of her friend being one of the apprentices I knew at the Tower? Higher than I’d like. But whatever. At least it didn’t seem like these ingredients were solely for summoning. Though her teacher still raised all kinds of red flags in my head, I had bigger issues to handle.

Eventually, we finished the grand tour of the market. After some deft haggling, I helped her gather everything on her list—and managed to snag the items I needed, too.

“Ahh, I’m so late already!” Sasha exclaimed, clutching her newly-filled bag. She turned to me, practically glowing. “Thank you so, so much! You saved me so much time, and your knowledge of this stuff? Exceptional! I want to be like that someday. But ugh—things just slip out of my head! Not because I’m dumb, okay? It’s just... I get so excited, and everything I’ve learned gets jumbled. It comes back. Eventually. I think. Argh, anyway, I have to scram before my father starts asking too many questions. That wouldn’t end well.”

A simple thank you and goodbye would’ve sufficed, but her energy was infectious. She gave me an overly formal bow, to which I responded with a nod. And then, true to form, she bolted into the crowd, a whirlwind of scales, braids, and frantic determination. I could only hope she’d keep her head on straight and avoid barreling into anyone else.

Her figure disappeared into the bustling market, leaving me alone again. My gaze instinctively shifted toward the back office where Whisper had gone. My errands were mostly wrapped up, but curiosity tugged at me. What exactly was Whisper digging into? If it involved the elf, that might mean trouble—or answers.

The temptation to join her gang was real. Very real. But not yet. First, I needed to consult with Lotte or even divine a few things before committing to it.

Just as I turned toward the room, the door opened. Whisper emerged, walking alongside a Voruun. Tall, green-skinned, and rippling with muscle, he had the unmistakable presence of someone used to commanding attention.

And I recognized him.

This was the same Voruun who’d shown up to fight Iron. The assumed leader. His chiseled face—tusks and all—was undeniably familiar. There was even a strange charm to his features, though that might’ve just been the adrenaline talking.

He was also the very person I’d attacked that day.

And now they were heading straight toward me.

Eep!