novelraw Chapter 54 : Flemont
Chapter 54 : Flemont
The cold wind swept icy air across the snow-covered plains.
Flemont had no walls.
At first, there had only been a naturally-formed labyrinth here. Occasionally, adventurers from faraway lands would venture inside. Some vanished without a trace, while others struck it rich and flaunted their wealth, drawing more eyes to this place.
In time, more and more adventurers gathered.
Around them, more people came as well. Inns, taverns, and caravans appeared one after another, dotting what was once barren tundra.
Later still, to maintain order, the Adventurer’s Guild established a branch here.
Smoke rose thick from tavern chimneys, noisy voices echoing inside. The sting of cheap liquor and the savory aroma of roasting meat mixed with the stench of sweat, spilling into the streets.
From the blacksmith’s shop came the rhythmic clanging of hammer on iron.
The main road, cleared of snow, bustled with people. Adventurers in fur and ice-crusted leather hawked goods taken from the labyrinth: glowing stones, strangely colored chunks of meat, battered equipment—everything imaginable.
Caravans unloaded crates of daily necessities into storage warehouses.
Signs of roadside inns swayed in the wind. Drunken men and women, faces flushed and arms thrown around each other, laughed loudly as they stumbled into the doors.
If one had to give a first impression of this city, it would be “lively.” At first glance, chaotic, yet beneath the surface, a peculiar kind of order existed, holding everything in balance.
“Come one, come all! Don’t miss out—”
A vendor in a fur coat cried at the roadside, a few old but clean garments laid before him.
A figure in a faded burlap cloak stopped at his stall.
The oversized hood was pulled low, showing only the delicate line of a small jaw. Loose as the cloak was, it couldn’t hide the girl’s slender figure.
Her gaze slid past the clothes he waved, fixing on a gray-black cloak in the corner.
The vendor’s beady eyes caught that pause instantly.
With a quick step, he rushed over, plastering on enthusiasm.
“Hey there, miss! Fine eye! Sharp taste! Look at this one. Real snow-hare blend, thick and windproof! See the stitching? Tight! Three to five years, easy! Two silver, a fair deal. Wear this and you’ll be warm and sharp!”
The girl trembled slightly, as if startled by the price.
Her thin fingers touched the fabric, then she asked again.
“How much is it really?”
“Two silver, an honest price!” he swore, pounding his chest.
“One silver.”
Her voice was calm, unshaken.
“One silver? Miss, just feel this fabric. Warm in winter, airy in summer. I’ve got a small business to run…”
His words tumbled out, excuses pouring like a waterfall.
The girl listened in silence, hood unmoving. When he finally paused for breath, she spoke again, just as clear.
“One silver, seven copper.”
“Ah, miss, my costs—”
“I don’t have any more. Just one silver and seven copper.”
“Ugh… fine! You drive a hard bargain. One silver, seven copper—take it!”
She said no more. Slowly, carefully, she took coins from her belt pouch, counting them several times before placing exactly one silver and seven copper in his palm.
“Need gloves? Warm, good price!” he tried again.
The hood shook faintly. No.
She wrapped the cloak neatly in her arms and turned to leave, vanishing quickly into the wine-scented wind.
The vendor clicked his tongue, muttering to himself.
“New face. Hah, this place never runs short of newcomers.”
…
…
Rozelite, clutching the cloak, soon found an unassuming inn by the roadside.
Its doorway had no decoration, though here and there couples laughed their way out with arms around each other. Such inns were rarely expensive—an instinct Rozelite would never have had in her old life. But now…
She was used to it.
“The cheapest room is five copper a day. Hot water’s extra, two copper. No deposit.”
The innkeeper quoted carelessly.
“How much?!”
Rozelite almost collapsed on the spot.
“Boss, you’re robbing people!”
“Who’s robbing you? Look at the wall. Prices are posted plain as day, no cheating!”
He rapped the board on the wall. Sure enough, the prices matched his words exactly.
Rozelite refused to believe it, stomped out to check a few other inns…
And came back.
“How long?”
The innkeeper wasn’t surprised. He didn’t even bother with sarcasm.
“Three days. No hot water.”
Rozelite muttered darkly, dropping fifteen copper onto the counter.
“Done.”
Cold coins turned into a warm room key.
Rozelite trudged upstairs, found her room, and opened the door—only to find it no better than inns in Ato City.
She dumped her pack and weapon onto the floor, kicked off her shoes, and threw herself onto the bed.
After resting a moment, she dug out her shrunken coin pouch, emptying it on the mattress.
Thirty-seven copper coins.
Minus the five required for adventurer registration, she now had less than a single silver left to her name.
Her stomach cramped suddenly.
“At this rate, I really will end up begging…”
She muttered under her breath.
From behind her, a pale-blue tentacle slipped out, its tip crowned with an eye.
Russell snapped his fingers.
Snap!
A flame burst into the air, pushing back the chill.
He turned and saw Rozelite curled on the bed like a shrimp, half-dead.
That she’d end up like this was no surprise.
She’d known this time of the month was coming, yet kept pushing herself—drinking cold water, eating cold food without a thought.
Of course she had cramps now.
Truth be told… for Russell, who had grown up an only child and never had a girlfriend, facing a girl writhing in pain from menstruation, all he could think to say was a dry, useless line:
“Drink more hot water.”