Chapter 173: Back at The Tavern

Master Claire was nowhere to be found, instead, behind the lustrous liquor bar was Lady Ghita wearing the same clothing as the waitresses: an apron tightly knotted from behind to show the Forgotten Pint's signature dish, the Lampaca, on the front. But, they were too busy to notice Ned approaching from the double door.

So did the twins: Su'aya and Su'ayun. They ran here and there greeting and taking the guest's orders. Four more were added to the crew. This wasn't the usual day for Forgotten Pint. It was loaded with people—natives of their own country. A group of six sat at the couches to Ned's right, they were joyous as Su'aya served them food. Their square hat seemed too important to be taken off, their clothes hang covering their body. Only their faces and hands were visible. To Ned's left, at the couches, bald guys wore orange garments wrapped around their body, their right shoulder was exposed. And they wore a strange necklace of wooden beads. One caught Ned's attention, he prayed while holding the wooden beads. Prayed inside the tavern, seemed odd. In the middle were hunters, none had bothered whether they were shouting or throwing curses at each other.

Ned proceeds to his right, the stairs going up to his room. There he stopped, brushing his hands atop the edges of the door. Metal clanked and Ned pushed a smile. It was the key to his room, unlocking the knob and proceed to throw himself over the bed. The last thing he needed now was the rest he was privileged to. Those past days had been an insight for Ned.

The Hunters, Ned thought. Forearm covering his eyes, white light shone over the edges of the ceiling. They were like Explorers but expendable. The only time the Association will give attention to them as if they were ranked high enough. Otherwise, they could die for the association could care.

Ned sighed, turned his head, and thought of Loti's stance. The stance that made an exploding sound out of the air, it was magic with no element or whatsoever. And he thought of the Plain, the plain where he took three hours to escaped only to find out the outside lasted for only three minutes. He focused, it seemed odd to have that kind of thought. Back in the Empire of Sskat, some devices could make emperians travel in space, but no magic could make time irrelevant to space.

"ICE," Ned said, voice was a hush yet it echoed through the equal-sided room. "Is there a way to stop time?"

[Negative, Ned.]

ICE answered, ready as always, whenever her host needed assistance.

[It requires extensive study.]

[Even Calahir agreed that time is impossible to stop.]

Ned shifted his head, he turned to his left and sighed. "Then how about slowing it?"

[Possible, vessels passing through wormholes experience time-shifting.]

[But due to the Empire's rapid technology evolution. The time shift was reduced to a fraction of seconds.]

"Which means?"

[Which means, anyone who entered wormholes would encounter time-shifting but the difference between the outside is too small a fraction that the time delay is hardly recognizable.]

"Ah," Ned said, brushing a streak of silver hair. "This kind of stuff wasn't my expertise. Even... Clones have limits."

[Indeed, Ned.]

[But you are more than a clone anymore.]

[You are more human than any people out there.]

"ICE," Ned said, "During the time I was in slumber for two days. Before I woke up. I was sent to another Plain. There, inside—yes, I was inside. There, I felt I was running for three hours, but when I exited the plain, the time only lapsed for three minutes. Have you seen something strange?"

[Seen?]

"I know," Ned replied. " It's a metaphor, it means—"

[I know what it means, Ned.]

[It felt strange to ask me if I, a system, an A.I., asked if I have seen something.]

"That's why it's called a metaphor."

ICE went silent, but Ned could feel that the A.I. fixed inside him was somewhat, smiling.

[No.]

ICE then replied.

[During those times, body status is normal. But the energy depletion is irrelevant to your state. It is rapidly depleting even though you are basically doing nothing.]

"That's it," Ned said, lifting his hand midair, the light broke between his fingers. "I did nothing. But... ICE tell me, what is my exact energy status?"

[Current energy is at 80%, Ned.]

[You must remember that your body needs constant feeding to support growth. It is both for energy and mana consumption.]

[And you must also—]

ICE trailed off, Ned went sleeping. With a smile lingering on his lips. A smile he wasn't aware of.

[You must.]

Yet, ICE continued.

[Survive of what yet to come.]

[Survive until the given day.]

Ned woke up with the rain trickling outside the window, the sky was thinned to a faint black, but it was enough to block the afternoon sun. Just like a normal human, Ned prepared with things he needed to look manly. Meeting a girl, after learning that he was a clone from the world of Earflgard was the first to him. Toni was different, she was too obedient, she was someone Ned hasn't considered a partner, yet. And Sasani was the opposite, Ned felt something for the two, but not to the point that he would make the first move. Remember, he thought. The Mark is my goal, and not to mark. Wiping the steam off a silver mirror. People here used something like salt mixed with something to form like a paste and used to brush the teeth. The taste was bland, losing the salty taste after the mixture.

Ned prepared, left the room, set the key, and left it where it was. Strode downstairs, and saw Master Claire.

The tavern was half full, it was never empty, not even half. Ned nodded to Master Claire, along with someone who looked prim and proper. They sat at the far end of the tavern, besides was a plant—if touched, would sink at the very bottom of the vase, its leaves were luminescent, looking like metal but soft to touch.

Master Claire nodded back to Ned, eyes looking surprised. They sat with the table empty. The man's back was facing Ned. A hunter, for sure, but Ned felt more than that. Leather jacket and the dagger was visible between the gaps of the wooden chair, his hands clasped under his chin. Master Claire spoke of something to the man across him, jaw dropping high and low. The man nodded then turned to look at Ned.

Just like Mater Claire, the man with military hairstyle, and dark eyes looked at Ned condensing—analyzing him with his scouting eyes. He was a rouge, that Ned didn't assume, he was certain from the air around him.

Master Claire nodded to Ned, gesturing him to come over. Ned has an hour before meeting Sasani. So, he walked with chest held high toward the two.

"Master Claire," Ned said, bowing. Hands clipped at his side.

"Kid," Master Claire replied. Wearing a loose vest and lose sleeves must be his rig. He gestured toward the man, this time, he was unsmiling. "Meet Quintin of House of Soak."

Soak? Seemed familiar, Ned thought, cocking a brow.

[Indeed.]

[Soak, according to the data we gathered, Soaks were reigning the Bogblot Region. They are one of the Great House directly affiliated to the Crown.]

Ned was silent hearing ICE remarked.

"Soak," Ned said. "What could be the man of the Great House doing here?"

Ned doesn't hate nobles like Toni, but he sure to distance himself from these kinds of people. People that use their power to undone piece.

"Wait," Ned said interrupting Quintin who was about to speak. "You're Quintin from before? That drunk guy?"

Quintin, just like any nobles, his dark eyes, with a hint of green were somewhat mysterious. Sleek hair trimmed to highlight his face and nose pointing as if growing whenever he lied.

"I am," Quintin said, voice was soft. "Yes."

He looked completely different from the day Ned saw him, he wore a necklace but Ned has a hard time analyzing his rank since it was tuck inside his elaborately embroidered vest. He wore earrings instead of rings on both ears, his jaw was pointy and lips commanding. His looks alone would prove that he was indeed a noble, a high one, not the noble living by leeching the great Houses.

Ned remained standing beside the edge of the wooden table, rains trickling from the outside, making a sound like the end of the opera. Sooner it would end soon. Hands tucked inside the front pocket, hair brushed from behind showing his sharp face to Master Claire and Quintin.

"Master Claire," Ned said, turning his head toward the tavern owner. "Why am I here?"

"Tell him, Tin," Master Claire nodded to the noble, toothpick rolling under his lips. The scar ran from his right eye down his neck, showing how remarkable a fighter he was.

Quintin sighed, blonde hair with a sprout of dark glossed against the orange light of the tavern.

"Tell me, kid," he said looking up at Ned, he sat with back bent toward the table. "Did you defeated that Evolved Goblin?"