“…I see. That sounds rough.”
In a Library reading room, just me and Clara.
An unpopular room — few visitors.
The books were children’s; children didn’t come to the Library either, so the room stayed empty.
Aramsus was a scholarly city, so books sold heavily. Picture books were easy to come by.
I’d come to the room, read several dozen picture books, then started talking to Clara.
About living at an acquaintance’s house, about the constant minor incidents, about having argued with one of my comrades.
One reason for the picture-book room was Clara’s presence. Also, picture books I’d never read.
Some caught my eye; some I knew.
I reached for the stack on the desk.
Reading, conversation continuing.
“Right — Aria laughed first, but somehow I’m the one in the wrong… and our coordination’s gotten worse than before.”
Griping, reading. Clara, reading along, answered.
“From what I’m hearing, she’s aware of you. I have no romantic experience, but books say there are similar examples.”
“Books and reality aren’t the same?”
“Some are based on fact. And from your description, she doesn’t dislike you. Real dislike is much more pointed. Either she’d treat you as if you weren’t there, or with a physically can’t stand it attitude. That’s what books say.”
Quite reliant on book-knowledge — but I couldn’t talk, so I accepted it.
“It started before Aramsus, maybe? Right around then I can’t read her anymore. She used to treat me like this, but lately she gets angry fast.”
I put the read one down and picked up another.
”…There might have been a trigger. Did you do anything to draw her attention?”
“Nothing in particular…”
Couldn’t remember. The Jewel, sighing.
The Fourth, four words:
“The moon is shining.”
That hit me. Yeah — Aria had been weird that night.
”…The moon is shining. I said that once. The moon was pretty; I just muttered it. Aria acted strange afterward.”
Clara watched me with sleepy eyes.
I noticed her gaze and met it.
“What?”
She looked at the picture book I was holding once, then at my face again.
”…Your reading is biased. Have you read romance?”
I tried to remember. Hadn’t.
What I’d read at the mansion was kids’ adventure stories.
Adventurer climbs the ladder, or hero faces overwhelming foe. All ending with the princess or lover, happy-ever-after.
Not romance-centric.
“No. — Or — a man feels weird picking those up, somehow.”
The Third backed me.
“Ah — I get that. There’s always someone saying men shouldn’t read those. I ignored them and read widely. — So Lyle had that hangup too… actually, surprisingly many men read them, you know.”
Many, huh.
So men could read them, apparently. Clara:
“There’s a classic romance novel that compares the moon to a woman. Its ending… saying the ending would be rude. I’ll tell you the title — read it.”
“Eh? Now I have to know… if it’s an old book, it’s hard to read?”
“No. There are modernized editions. Easy to read. — Most girls have read it, actually.”
Hearing that, I remembered the Fourth’s He did it!!! from before. That was what he’d meant?
So the Fourth also read romance?
Bespectacled, money-obsessed, ancestor-meeting moderator the Fourth — I pictured him reading romance.
(…Doesn’t really suit. — Or kind of funny.)
Given his attitude with women, it wasn’t out of bounds.
”…I confessed, then.”
I muttered. Clara, eyes back on the book.
“You did.”
“I did…”
We kept reading.
Internally I was scrambling to figure out how to interact with Aria from now on; the book’s content wasn’t entering my head.
The Seventh.
“What is this conversation in the picture-book corner, Lyle…”
◇
Out of the Library, I went to peek at the famous academy.
The scholarly city’s center; many young people gathered from afar.
To pick up knowledge, technique; for research…
Unlike other cities, the focus was on learning. Normally, territory management would falter — but the student population pulled in money from elsewhere.
Research yielded enormous profits; the scholarly city ran on it.
Though research itself cost enormously.
Not a student myself, I could only look from outside — but the buildings surprised me.
In a city of clutter, the academy alone was built with style as a priority.
Uniformed boys and girls chatted, read.
“So this is the academy… different from what I imagined.”
I’d imagined a narrower space, given that it was learning only. The city’s vibe was function above all.
The Jewel agreed.
The Second:
“Bigger than the mansion I lived in!”
The Third:
“Heard the description, estimated the scale, and it surpassed expectations. — Like they really, really value the academy. The atmosphere here alone is different.”
The Fourth diverged.
“How much did building this cost? Feels wasteful.”
The Fifth.
“Education matters. — Scholarly city’s whole identity, so they can pour the money in… how’s the Vise domain doing now?”
The Sixth recalled his era.
“Larger than in the Fifth’s time, but a structure on this level…”
The Seventh:
“No point competing with the scholarly city. Anyone with drive who’s learned a bit comes here as standard.”
The ancestors had valued education to a degree.
But the scholarly city was at a different scale.
(I don’t really know Vise domain that well.)
I knew the numbers from paperwork — the scale.
But for my birthplace, I knew shockingly little.
House-arrest in the manor, kicked out and gone immediately — a touch wasteful in retrospect.
(I’d have liked to show the First what Vise is like now.)
What the ancestors had built it into — I’d had a glimpse.
Felt like a precious experience.
Spacing out at the gate — an acquaintance came out.
In matching uniforms — Miranda, centered among the group of girls.
“It’s Lyle. What’s up?”
The two girls with her looked at me.
“Friend of Miranda’s? — Boyfriend?”
“Lucky you~”
Miranda hurried to deny.
“No — he lives with us in the house. Friend of a friend!”
The lives with us part lit her friends up.
She had her hands full. I called.
“Just looking at the academy today. Scholarly-city tourism.”
She looked a touch tired.
Probably from arguing her friends down.
“That so? Doesn’t seem like a touristy spot, but — okay, plenty of people do come look.”
For visitors, the academy was a curiosity.
(At this scale — glad I came.)
She asked my schedule.
“Right. Lyle, are you free after this?”
”…Yeah. Day off as a rule.”
After work, I always scheduled rest. Sudden Growth in someone is dangerous; gear maintenance is dangerous to skip.
Most dangerous: post-Growth high.
In that state, people overreach.
(Though I don’t Grow that often.)
She looked up at me.
“Then — could I ask a favor?”
“Favor? Well, the homeowner’s favor — within reason.”
I emphasized homeowner to keep her friends from misreading.
“Really? Great! I want to go to the Guild. Place’s scary, isn’t it. Could you go with me?”
“Guild? Posting a request?”
“My side’s posting. These two are buying parts. We’re registered adventurers too. Academy students often handle requests with knowledge or skill.”
Scholarly-city flavor.
“Then you’re used to the Guild?”
“Cold, are we. We don’t go as often as you do. Some go because they need money, some because they need parts for assignments. When you enroll you register, and unrelated students just go to deregister.”
To each their own.
A group of girls would feel uneasy at the Guild.
(But manners and dress here are notably better.)
Scholarly-city; few crude adventurers.
Not zero.
“Got it. I’ll go with you.”
“Yes! Thanks~”
She grabbed my arm and thanked me.
The two friends smirked. Please, I thought — and led the three to the Guild.
◇
Arriving at the Guild, Miranda — to post her request — went first.
The friends planned to push the pack-carrying on me after their parts buy.
A slight strategic error, but refusing would mess with Miranda’s friend relationships — I accepted.
(Counts as part of rent, I guess.)
To process the paperwork, I went up to the second floor.
Clara was there.
“Clara — keep running into you. Adventurer-job time?”
She turned.
“Yes. An interesting request is being posted… and it appears to relate to you.”
Relate to me. I tilted my head.
While I was puzzling, Miranda went to the counter.
Surrounding adventurers watched.
A beauty pulls attention — but it wasn’t only men’s eyes. Women’s too.
I listened to the chatter.
“What kind of request this time?”
“Seven Geniuses request — reward’s gotta be good…”
“Don’t get involved. Be careful.”
“Heard he doesn’t come to the Guild himself anymore — sends a student. True, then.”
“Reward’s good, but the work doesn’t pay for the trouble.”
Putting eyes and ears together — Miranda was here as proxy for one of the Seven Geniuses, Damian Bale.
The counter clerk, normally composed, was visibly flustered.
The Second.
“Becomes rumor before the request is posted? What kind of pervert is this?”
(Don’t really want to think about it — the man I want to avoid is Miranda’s acquaintance. So that’s why she knew so much.)
I’d heard the rumors about Damian from her.
She was a student, he a professor — contact made sense.
Clara’s related to you finally clicked.
And interesting request would be Damian Bale’s.
Clara spoke.
“Seven Geniuses requests have ripple effects on other requests, for better or worse. Big money moves, so adventurers fight over them — or sabotage them. To avoid those ripples I come and check.”
“Sabotage too?”
“Sabotage — or other things. …A valuable cargo request: the receiving party becomes well-known, since the request is famous. Bad actors will tail them and steal the cargo. Past precedent. Famous for better or worse.”
Sometimes a request for a large monster’s parts would draw bandits to attack adventurers who happened to be carrying that monster’s parts.
A nuisance.
For Clara, solo adventurer, this was part of intel-gathering.
A clerk walked over carrying a request to post.
(Trouble’s a nuisance to the Guild too.)
I watched his unhappy face and thought that.
Clara, who didn’t know me as a stranger to Aramsus, explained.
“Here, the academy holds more power than the Guild. Even knowing trouble follows, the Guild can’t refuse. The adventurers carry it, which is why intel-gathering is necessary.”
I’d thought she lived in her own world; she was steely enough to live as needed.
(Yeah, that’s the level you need to live alone.)
When the request was posted and adventurers crowded the board, Miranda came over and I confirmed the content with her.
Clara stayed next to me — listening to Miranda was faster than reading.
“Quite the popular request.”
A jab. She gave a wry smile.
“He’s serious about it. But — the content is what it is, so. — Anyway, how did you know I was proxy for the professor?”
Confused. Clara:
“There are students who adventure too. Intel leaks from those. You apply for the request budget through the academy, right? The window let it spread to adventurers.”
“Clara-san? You two are more friendly than I’d thought.”
Miranda smirked at me. I cleared my throat and got back to the content.
The contents:
— Parts of the floor-40 boss in the scholarly city’s managed dungeon —
— Period: one month —
— Reward: 1000 gold coins, or commensurate goods —
— Permission to enter the dungeon is only granted in association with this request —
“…1000 gold coins. Big number.”
I wouldn’t have been surprised earlier given my old position. As an adventurer, my sense of money had shifted.
“Seven Geniuses-tier. Surprised the academy authorized that budget.”
Miranda was a touch incredulous.
Clara’s expression was complicated.
The Fourth.
“Don’t get conned, Lyle. It doesn’t say they’ll pay 1000 gold. It says 1000 gold or commensurate goods. Look at the other adventurers’ faces.”
I looked. Mixed expressions all around.
“This request — probably no intention of paying 1000 gold. And commensurate goods isn’t specified. Reeks of sketch.”
I checked with Clara.
“Floor-40 boss — what’s that level?”
”…The deepest confirmed floor was five years ago. Then it was floor 50. In Aramsus’s dungeon, bosses sit on every tenth floor. Adventurers normally hunt around floor 20. The deeper, the larger.”
“Meaning?”
“A very harsh request. Aramsus’s adventurers are skilled but efficiency-first. Few push deep like other Guilds.”
There were adventurers who’d reached the deepest floor five years ago, surely.
Five years was enough time to imagine various outcomes.
(Retired, or changed home…)
Imagination matched. Clara caught my question.
“The party that found the deepest floor has disbanded. They run a private academy here, I believe.”
Miranda’s face went troubled.
“Eh — meaning the request will be hard to complete? The professor’s going to be irritable for a while…”
A student’s worry. Not my problem — but something in the conversation caught me.
“A deepest-floor party running a private academy. Where?”
“Lyle’s cold!”
Miranda hung off me; I avoided her and asked Clara.
Clara nodded, took out a notepad, wrote.
The Sixth.
“That capable an adventurer running a school. — Curiosity is good, Lyle.”
Praised, apparently.
Taking the memo, Clara advised.
“And — the Seven Geniuses request — accepting it just to take it might be a play.”
“Just to take?”
“Yes. Acceptance grants dungeon-entry permission. Adventurers who couldn’t enter before will be able to. The dungeon will get crowded.”
She left.