Chapter 187 The Tinkerer

Huffing to himself, the bristly-bearded dwarf extended his hand to Emilio, which was calloused and rough, “Sorry ’bout that, laddy! Name’s Whurful Dimbuckle! This here is a member of my adventurin’ party: Veril. He’s a good, feliable fellow most of the time, but…an excitable one! Ha-ha!”

“Yes, yes, I apologized already,” Veril said, shaking Emilio’s hand as well.

He was pleasantly surprised to find out the two were adventurers, though it seemed like a large chunk of the population in each city was, at least for the passing crowd.

“Emilio,” he gave his name, “…I’m on my way to the Guild Foundation to become an adventurer myself, actually.”

“Is that so?! Well, good luck to ya, laddy!” Whurful told him earnestly.

“Indeed, may fortune be in your favor, though I believe you will not need it,” Veril said to him kindly.

“Thanks!”

–

Finally leaving the premises of the bathhouse with a renewed figure, he stretched his arms up, now setting his sights on what he was truly after, flipping his sponsor coin in his hand: the brothel that Mr. Merryfoot gave him directions to.

There was a certain sense of freedom on his mind when not having to carry his equipment with him, able to leisurely stroll the city without his mind lingering on threats.

I’m glad I left my things in Alfobromli’s room. I didn’t realize how stiff my shoulders were from carrying all of that for so long anyway, he thought.

While strolling down the street, he heard the scream of a woman, looking ahead as he paused, seeing that the crowd of people on the street were parting in the way of somebody sprinting.

It was a man with a scarred eyebrow and thin, stringy hair of a dark-blue shade, wearing loose, black garments with a scarf that covered his mouth.

He was left confused for a moment before seeing in the distance, a fancily-dressed, golden-haired woman reaching out, yelling, “–Somebody stop him! Guards! He’s got my ring!”

A thief? He realized.

Just then, he noticed the shiny, likely expensive, piece of jewelry the man held as he raced forward, slipping by the passing adventurers on the street who tried to apprehend him.

“Grh!”

A bald-headed adventurer in full-metal armor tried reaching out, only to trip over his own feet from the slippery footwork of the nimble thief.

As he looked around, he scouted the sunny streets to look for guards, finding there to be none on the scene yet as he was now the last one directly in the path of the fleeing robber.

Just my luck…I’ve got a talent for running into this sort of thing, he thought, I was hoping to have some time to chill out, but I guess I’m never that lucky.

A sigh left his lips just as the ring-stealer came within distance of him, attempting to dash right past him before Emilio casually swept his hand, conjuring a gust of wind that swept the man’s feet from under him.

“Grgh–?!” The thief reacted.

Expecting that to settle the situation, he was surprised to find that the pale, scarfed man didn’t faceplant against the paved stone of the road, instead catching himself on his hands before flipping up.

“Huh–?”

To his shock, in a swift movement, the thief recovered from his fall, flipping up and drawing a curved dagger in a singular motion, swiping it towards the young man’s eyes.

Raising his hand out of reflex, he instinctively armored his left hand with his “Scale Armor”, causing the dagger to bounce off of his hand.

“What?!” The thief hissed.

It wasn’t a perfect defense, however, as Emilio winced, finding the sharp blade of the thief to heavily damage the dark-blue scales as they cracked.

Still, the unexpected counter to the robber’s “eye slash” gave Emilio an opportunity to focus a swirl of wind in his fist before slamming it into the man’s gut, unleashing a pinpoint burst of wind that knocked him across the street.

“…Phew…” Emilio sighed out, looking at his hand as the scales vanished.

As he bent down to retrieve the ring from the knocked-out thief, he saw a peculiar tattoo inked onto the man’s neck: a hooded figure within a circular ring.

Odd, he thought.

Standing back up with the ring in hand, he found the woman it belonged to racing over, having to hold her long, fluffed dress up as her heels tapped against the stone.

“…I will take that back now,” the woman said, catching her breath.

She was a natural beauty, looking to be in her mid to late twenties with fair skin and dazzling, azure eyes that worked together with her curly, gold curtains of hair that cascaded down her slender shoulders.

“Here you go,” Emilio handed it over with a smile.

Accepting it, the woman looked at the young man for a moment, “Is there something you want?”

“No?” Emilio responded.

His answer seemed to take the woman aback as she expected him to request something in return, though before she could say anything, she was approached by an older gentleman that was dressed in a black butler suit.

“Mrs. Lureina! Are you alright?!” The silver-haired gentleman inquired.

“I am quite alright, Sylvo,” the clearly wealthy woman said, “Let’s be on our way.”

Soon after the highborn woman took her leave with her butler at her side, the city guards arrived, taking the thief into custody, though he was still unconscious as they hauled him away.

Maybe I hit him a bit too hard? Emilio pondered, no…He definitely tried to kill me, or at least blind me. He was surprisingly fast.

“You have my thanks for acting swiftly, young man,” one of the guards said to him, clearly a high-ranking member by his flashy, fluffed cape that strolled down his shoulders.

“It’s no problem,” Emilio assured him.

After settling that, he looked around to find many eyes on him before suddenly–the crowd began clapping, cheering him on for his actions in stopping the thief. It was a surprising amount of attention, an amount of which he didn’t know how to receive as he bashfully smiled and waved before moving on.

I guess it was worth it…Earning a name for myself is never a bad thing, right? He thought.

As he went on his way, a shop along the street caught his eye, standing out among the other stores that either sold tailored outfits, food, or standard accessories: “The Magista Lot”.

What made him double-take it as he passed by were the customers that went in-and-out of the shop, solely being adventurers and robed mages, easily discerned as academy students in Vasmoria.

A magic shop? Well, I do have a lot of spare cash now, he thought.

Heading inside, he expected a simple inventory of catalysts and basic equipment, but he was caught off-guard by the array of magical items on display, ranging from potions to mystical devices. Such items ranged from a bracelet that was described by the note next to it as “repelling nearby creatures from attacking” or a perfume that claimed to “make the wearer irresistible to the opposing gender’.

“Woah…” Emilio let out, browsing the selection.

There was nothing like it in Milligarde, despite the two nations being neighbors; such a potent selection of magical items completely ensnared his attention.

While browsing, he accidentally bumped into somebody else, turning around to see a gray-haired young man juggling a potion that he was holding with a desperate look.

“Wh-wh-whoa!” The shaggy-haired man let out, finally dropping the bottle.

Before it could fall, Emilio acted quickly, conjuring a gentle swirl of wind beneath the vial that held the mystical liquid, managing to catch it.

“Phew,” Emilio let out a sigh of relief, handing the saved potion over to the person, “Sorry for bumping into you like that.”

The youthful figure, likely a couple years older than him at most, adjusted his round-rimmed glasses before holding a gentle smile, taking the potion back, “No, it’s alright–I’m always clumsy like that. I probably was standing in your way.”

There was no doubt that the figure was a mage, going by the academic, black robes he wore with a white-dress shirt beneath and a scarlet tie.

“I’m Jeane, by the way,” the gray-haired mage introduced himself, “I work here.”

“Emilio,” he responded in kind, “So, you work here? Then, do you have any recommendations?”

“Hmm, recommendations?” Jeane put his hand to his chin.

“Yeah…I’m not from Vasmoria, so I’m not really used to magic items like this,” Emilio laughed.

“Well, magi tools can fit a lot of needs, hmm…” Jeane pondered.

There was an awkward silence between them as Jeane seemed to be an even bigger introvert than him, sweating and fiddling with his glasses.

Before he could try to continue their conversation, opting to ask about the magical items in the shop–

“Mr. Dragonheart!”

A voice called out to him, causing him to turn around to see a man dressed in dark-blue leather standing at the shop’s entrance.

“Err, that’s me,” Emilio said.

“Lord Merryfoot has sent me to fetch you,” the man said, “I am Ains, Lord Merryfoot’s loyal servant; it’s time.”

The stoic figure had slicked-back, silver hair and bushy eyebrows, looking forward with stalwart, amber eyes.

“Already?…Alright, alright,” Emilio sighed, ruffling his mix-colored tufts.

As he took his leave from the store, he looked back, waving at the mage he had just met, which he received a meek wave in return.

“I’ll be back here in a bit! If you’re still here, show me around! I’m interested,” Emilio said.

Jeane looked surprised before smiling, nodding in return.