“What?”
The sword that should have been sold off (tendered, offered up) came back to me.
It was returned in the manner of Fujiwara pushing the sword into Soarer’s arms. On Fujiwara’s face was a mischievous smile which Soarer couldn’t comprehend.
Anemone, next to him, nodded and agreed.
“Now, counselor Anemone”
“I wonder what you ask, Manager?”
「Anemone, as a skilled ex-Seeker yourself, do you think Soarer needs to sell his sword to capture the third floor of the Dungeon?”
“It is not necessary, isn’t that right?”
“What is the reason for this?”
“Because it is not the fault of his equipment he can’t capture the third floor.”
Soarer fell depressed once it was said that it wasn’t the weapons fault. In this sort of situation, that is the only conclusion left.
“And, of course, it’s not a matter of determination. Your body is not inferior, and your daily determination has been proven to the point where you came to the Manager.”
“Well, then, what is it?”
“These things are not enough for you, it’s a more fundamental thing in dungeon exploration.”
“Fundamental thing…?”
Soarer had no clue.
Those who do not have enough of everything cannot pass that hateful third floor. Experience, knowledge, swordplay, judgment, reflexes, funds, and magic ability…
So many thing it’d be endless mentioning them all.
However, Anemone is saying it’s none of those things.
“Manager, Mister Anemone, thank you. Please tell me what I’m not taking into consideration.”
★
Upon Soarer opening the door, voices and noise greeted him in a flood.
Sounds of tableware clacking with glass.
Footsteps of the employees running about carelessly.
Customers giving orders.
Laughter.
Voices.
Hoots and catcalls.
Sounds are overflowing in the Tavern as it buzzed, lively.
This is a tavern called “Underground House to Look At The Sun” (tl: if anyone who can speak the runes fluently sees this, leave a comment with a better translation of (太陽を見上げるモグラ亭). It was still before the sun had set but the Tavern seemed to be prospering.
Soarer, while uneasy to be here, remembered his master’s lessons and stories about pubs. For Seekers of Labyrinth City, the Tavern is somewhere you cannot avoid when searching to exchange information, it seems.
Naturally, in the case of his master the only topic was which waitress was the cutest or which Liquor brand tasted best.
“Ah, sorry to bother you,”
Soarer arrived at the counter and spoke to the goodwife (mistress of/owner of an establishment) polishing the ale stein. Her hardiness was affirmed with her eye-patch and sharp, glaring eye a person couldn’t hide from.
“Ah,”
“New kid, huh. Your name?”
“My name is Soarer.”
“I’m Elizabeth. ‘Beth’ is fine.”
“Beth, with that I-“
“This is a tavern. Order something first, eh?”
“Ah, well, ginger ale and-“
“Is that it?”
In exchange for the drink of ginger ale in the giant mug, Soarer passed a thermos and a letter he had been entrusted.
“This is from the manager of ‘The Good Old’.”
“Are they ordering coffee and a biscuit again? My home’s not a coffee shop, but a pub. Sometimes… Oh?”
An order of some kind is written on the letter.
Looking at the order from the regular customers unexpectedly the grumbling hostess began smiling.
She said “Wait here while I prepare it,” and disappeared into the back of the kitchen.
What the hell could have been written there, Soarer wondered.
After the prior exchange, the Manager of “The Good Old Magician’s Shop” asked Soarer to go on a little errand.
Soarer doubted something like this could help him capture the Third Floor, but decided to play along for now.
Of course, they could be teasing him or using him for an errand, but with those people Soarer concluded it likely wasn’t such a thing.
Waiting for the order to be prepared, Soarer went to a nearby table and tried to shrink himself down and conceal his presence.
In fact, it is his first time in a tavern.
Soarer feared being humiliated if he was noticed by others, the novice he is.
Little by little he drank the Ginger Ale from the mug.
The Ginger Ale he ordered had alcohol, although he didn’t know it, though it was thin enough it wasn’t hard to drink.
Master was often drinking ale, but Soarer liked this particular spiciness and sweetness.
“…”
Soarer looked absentmindedly around the room.
Many people looked like investigators, most commonly Warriors wearing heavy armor or Magicians wearing comfortable robes, as expected by most.
People were not only eating or drinking, some were toasting to their returns and are eagerly talking of their floor captures.
Of course some really were just intently betting and racking up an alcohol bill.
The Seekers who visit here were likely all well-armed and those who can clear the third floor easily.
Soarer blankly thought about what was different between him and them.
Difference in equipment? No. Difference in experience? Yes. Difference in skills? Debatable.
Then, the difference is not only one of the three basics. It has to be something that greatly influences the capture of the dungeon itself.
Soarer, sadly, did not know what it was.
“Of… That… Don’t have that…”
Soarer heard a voice suddenly, looking back towards it.
He thought it was the Goodwife taking out the product, but it was a different person.
A girl with freckles and braids.
About his age, based on the figure.
Looking down, he could see that they were holding a wooden cane. They seemed to be embarrassed and thus stuttering. Looking again, she was wearing something akin to a dunce’s hat and a little robe with a deep purple sooty color, so she seemed to be a witch.
“Eh, who?”
“Ah…You can call me Linne…”’
“Yes,”
“Ha, then, and your name is Soarer?”
“Yes, it is”
“I’m looking for a ‘companion’”
“Eh?”
“… Well… Uh, become my party member… My specialty is Flame Magic… It can knock down Metal Slime, if that’s the issue… It’s not too strong yet though…”
Soarer could not understand the conversation as the girl with braids who immediately began arbitrarily introducing herself.
“My favorite food… is a strawberry jam scone, and… don’t like skeletons or spiders…”
“Hold up, wait a minute.”
“?”
Companion, what kind do you mean?
Asking an envoy from an antique shop to be your husband, one that had just arrived, sitting alone, in the corner, Soarer wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity.
Soarer first wondered, how did she know his name? He only knew a few people within Labyrinth City.
Soarer swallowed some words he was on the verge of saying.
He noticed that, behind the girl, was the hostess with crossed arms, watching the situation with a smile.
Soarer began to wonder about what was written on those notes.
“…”
Soarer began to ask himself a question he had never asked before. Why is this one asking for my company? Soarer had not considered this, since he had done everything by himself until now.
“Well,”
Suddenly, he thought of one of master’s reminiscences
In a town in the north ten years ago, there was a goblin thief raid and Soarer was left to be killed.
Master was at the time a wanderer, and he discovered Soarer as he was about to be attacked. He unsheathed his flame sword, swallowing the goblins in a vortex of flames and killing the boss with a single blow.
After this, he was hired as a swordmaster to teach in the town.
Soarer immediately became his pupil, and applied himself to his training, listening to storied of the original dungeon his master had explored.
Stories of horrible monsters in it.
The treasure at the bottom of the lake in the Dungeon.
The many Seekers who he had seen die in the many ventures he had made.
In those stories, the master was with companions at all times, with occurrences both funny and sad.
Unknowingly, Soarer had begun yearning for companions to explore with.
Finally Soarer realized what he was lacking.
One of the most basic things for dungeon exploration.
“…What’s wrong?”
Soarer could heart the anxious voice, coming from the girl with braids. He had to say something. This was an important opportunity, he couldn’t just clam up and call himself a Seeker.
“Ye…”
“Yeu?”
“Yes, leave the skeletons to me!”
It was only good luck that he put out the right syllable. Although it was quite embarrassed with his trembling voice, he managed to get to say what he needed to say. Linne gave a coy smile.
“Yeah! Be…st… Regards!”
“Best regards, yes!”
★
“I wonder if that child did well.”
“I think it’ll go well.”
“Aah, we should go and secretly assist him or something.”
Anemone was still sweeping the same area as earlier, clearly anxious if Soarer was working it out or not.
Fujiwara was more worried about the broom that her hands were clasped around, groaning.
“I’m just checking how it’s going”
“Anemone-san, calm down…”
They looked like parents who were worried over their child on their first time out of the house.
The suit of armor was rather suspicious, and hard to sneak around in. Rather, it could instead lead to trouble.
“Store Manager, you’re no good for Soarer, why are you coming along? A monster like you only cares about items, why would you be soft on others unless for an item. That must be it, this brute.”
“How awful a thing to say.”
“Aah, sorry to say that. I’m really truly sorry. I’m not thinking very straight.”
“Well, it’s just an unusual thing so I don’t mind it. Anemone-sab sure backs him up a lot!”
“No such thing, a child like this is the type to try to do everything on their own, so for some reason I feel the need to meddle.”
“Is that so?”
Fujiwara was the same way, though.
Anemone could likely see her old self in Soarer.
Before she found company she trusted, she tried not to depend on anyone, and she had a very sad time in her life.
“How did Anemone-San capture the third floor of the Dungeon, anyway?
“Aah? There are many capture methods. Metal Slimes can be slammed with a shield using muscle strength, and you can run away before it reforms.
“It does? Can you really call that a capture method?”
Then, Fujiwara remembered Anemone had experienced fifteen floors of the Dungeon alone.
Her nickname is “Footsteps of Death” because of the steel echoes heard, leaving behind carcasses of monsters, still humming.
This sort of person used an obstinate, full-frontal breakthrough.
“By the way, manager?”
“Yes.”
Anemone rose her face from the broomstick, looking towards Fujiwara
“It’s a she, not a he.”
“…It is?”
Fujiwara slightly tilted his head, not knowing what he was being told.
“Soarer-kun is a girl.”
“Ah, ah. I thought that was likely, didn’t want to say it.”
Fujiwara pretended to be calm, saying so. He focused on trying to drop his cup.
He hadn’t realized Soarer was a so-called ‘boku-kko’. (tl: female who refers to themselves as male)
In fact, he hadn’t noticed at all. It was a thought, and he thought it was a boy, but they’re fairly androgynous.
They were small statured for a swordsman and thin in some places, and in retrospect, the tone and behavior were somewhat girly as well.
It seems his training was not enough. Fujiwara vowed to have a more polished appraisal eye towards human beings, too.
Linne
◆
Discrimination Card “Fire Sword”
“Offer three hundred and twenty five drops of the descent of the people except unclean criminals with ashy eyes, an oxidization changing the world, like a bonfire in a traditional garden”
This is an imitation of an imitation, trying to mimic the Fire Drake’s ‘Tongue To Melt All’. Long ago, it was said things entangled by that tongue left nothing behind, not even ash, inspired by an anecdote in the “Era of Superior Mages” Cast by Housten Yodenheim, it’s a legendary fire blade. When used by a person, it’s said to give the blessing of the power of fire, cutting through rock and iron like butter. The blessings of Fire’s design process was lost however, so we can only use fire to strengthen swords. However, its ability to give us combustion on impact is good for enemies weak to fire like the undead, making it very effective. The market price is inexpensive at 20,000, and it’d displayed at a secondhand weapon store as ‘The First Giving Tool they seem to reach for when working hard’, an attracting target for novice investigators
“What?”
The sword that should have been sold off (tendered, offered up) came back to me.
It was returned in the manner of Fujiwara pushing the sword into Soarer’s arms. On Fujiwara’s face was a mischievous smile which Soarer couldn’t comprehend.
Anemone, next to him, nodded and agreed.
“Now, counselor Anemone”
“I wonder what you ask, Manager?”
「Anemone, as a skilled ex-Seeker yourself, do you think Soarer needs to sell his sword to capture the third floor of the Dungeon?”
“It is not necessary, isn’t that right?”
“What is the reason for this?”
“Because it is not the fault of his equipment he can’t capture the third floor.”
Soarer fell depressed once it was said that it wasn’t the weapons fault. In this sort of situation, that is the only conclusion left.
“And, of course, it’s not a matter of determination. Your body is not inferior, and your daily determination has been proven to the point where you came to the Manager.”
“Well, then, what is it?”
“These things are not enough for you, it’s a more fundamental thing in dungeon exploration.”
“Fundamental thing…?”
Soarer had no clue.
Those who do not have enough of everything cannot pass that hateful third floor. Experience, knowledge, swordplay, judgment, reflexes, funds, and magic ability…
So many thing it’d be endless mentioning them all.
However, Anemone is saying it’s none of those things.
“Manager, Mister Anemone, thank you. Please tell me what I’m not taking into consideration.”
★
Upon Soarer opening the door, voices and noise greeted him in a flood.
Sounds of tableware clacking with glass.
Footsteps of the employees running about carelessly.
Customers giving orders.
Laughter.
Voices.
Hoots and catcalls.
Sounds are overflowing in the Tavern as it buzzed, lively.
This is a tavern called “Underground House to Look At The Sun” (tl: if anyone who can speak the runes fluently sees this, leave a comment with a better translation of (太陽を見上げるモグラ亭). It was still before the sun had set but the Tavern seemed to be prospering.
Soarer, while uneasy to be here, remembered his master’s lessons and stories about pubs. For Seekers of Labyrinth City, the Tavern is somewhere you cannot avoid when searching to exchange information, it seems.
Naturally, in the case of his master the only topic was which waitress was the cutest or which Liquor brand tasted best.
“Ah, sorry to bother you,”
Soarer arrived at the counter and spoke to the goodwife (mistress of/owner of an establishment) polishing the ale stein. Her hardiness was affirmed with her eye-patch and sharp, glaring eye a person couldn’t hide from.
“Ah,”
“New kid, huh. Your name?”
“My name is Soarer.”
“I’m Elizabeth. ‘Beth’ is fine.”
“Beth, with that I-“
“This is a tavern. Order something first, eh?”
“Ah, well, ginger ale and-“
“Is that it?”
In exchange for the drink of ginger ale in the giant mug, Soarer passed a thermos and a letter he had been entrusted.
“This is from the manager of ‘The Good Old’.”
“Are they ordering coffee and a biscuit again? My home’s not a coffee shop, but a pub. Sometimes… Oh?”
An order of some kind is written on the letter.
Looking at the order from the regular customers unexpectedly the grumbling hostess began smiling.
She said “Wait here while I prepare it,” and disappeared into the back of the kitchen.
What the hell could have been written there, Soarer wondered.
After the prior exchange, the Manager of “The Good Old Magician’s Shop” asked Soarer to go on a little errand.
Soarer doubted something like this could help him capture the Third Floor, but decided to play along for now.
Of course, they could be teasing him or using him for an errand, but with those people Soarer concluded it likely wasn’t such a thing.
Waiting for the order to be prepared, Soarer went to a nearby table and tried to shrink himself down and conceal his presence.
In fact, it is his first time in a tavern.
Soarer feared being humiliated if he was noticed by others, the novice he is.
Little by little he drank the Ginger Ale from the mug.
The Ginger Ale he ordered had alcohol, although he didn’t know it, though it was thin enough it wasn’t hard to drink.
Master was often drinking ale, but Soarer liked this particular spiciness and sweetness.
“…”
Soarer looked absentmindedly around the room.
Many people looked like investigators, most commonly Warriors wearing heavy armor or Magicians wearing comfortable robes, as expected by most.
People were not only eating or drinking, some were toasting to their returns and are eagerly talking of their floor captures.
Of course some really were just intently betting and racking up an alcohol bill.
The Seekers who visit here were likely all well-armed and those who can clear the third floor easily.
Soarer blankly thought about what was different between him and them.
Difference in equipment? No. Difference in experience? Yes. Difference in skills? Debatable.
Then, the difference is not only one of the three basics. It has to be something that greatly influences the capture of the dungeon itself.
Soarer, sadly, did not know what it was.
“Of… That… Don’t have that…”
Soarer heard a voice suddenly, looking back towards it.
He thought it was the Goodwife taking out the product, but it was a different person.
A girl with freckles and braids.
About his age, based on the figure.
Looking down, he could see that they were holding a wooden cane. They seemed to be embarrassed and thus stuttering. Looking again, she was wearing something akin to a dunce’s hat and a little robe with a deep purple sooty color, so she seemed to be a witch.
“Eh, who?”
“Ah…You can call me Linne…”’
“Yes,”
“Ha, then, and your name is Soarer?”
“Yes, it is”
“I’m looking for a ‘companion’”
“Eh?”
“… Well… Uh, become my party member… My specialty is Flame Magic… It can knock down Metal Slime, if that’s the issue… It’s not too strong yet though…”
Soarer could not understand the conversation as the girl with braids who immediately began arbitrarily introducing herself.
“My favorite food… is a strawberry jam scone, and… don’t like skeletons or spiders…”
“Hold up, wait a minute.”
“?”
Companion, what kind do you mean?
Asking an envoy from an antique shop to be your husband, one that had just arrived, sitting alone, in the corner, Soarer wondered if it was a case of mistaken identity.
Soarer first wondered, how did she know his name? He only knew a few people within Labyrinth City.
Soarer swallowed some words he was on the verge of saying.
He noticed that, behind the girl, was the hostess with crossed arms, watching the situation with a smile.
Soarer began to wonder about what was written on those notes.
“…”
Soarer began to ask himself a question he had never asked before. Why is this one asking for my company? Soarer had not considered this, since he had done everything by himself until now.
“Well,”
Suddenly, he thought of one of master’s reminiscences
In a town in the north ten years ago, there was a goblin thief raid and Soarer was left to be killed.
Master was at the time a wanderer, and he discovered Soarer as he was about to be attacked. He unsheathed his flame sword, swallowing the goblins in a vortex of flames and killing the boss with a single blow.
After this, he was hired as a swordmaster to teach in the town.
Soarer immediately became his pupil, and applied himself to his training, listening to storied of the original dungeon his master had explored.
Stories of horrible monsters in it.
The treasure at the bottom of the lake in the Dungeon.
The many Seekers who he had seen die in the many ventures he had made.
In those stories, the master was with companions at all times, with occurrences both funny and sad.
Unknowingly, Soarer had begun yearning for companions to explore with.
Finally Soarer realized what he was lacking.
One of the most basic things for dungeon exploration.
“…What’s wrong?”
Soarer could heart the anxious voice, coming from the girl with braids. He had to say something. This was an important opportunity, he couldn’t just clam up and call himself a Seeker.
“Ye…”
“Yeu?”
“Yes, leave the skeletons to me!”
It was only good luck that he put out the right syllable. Although it was quite embarrassed with his trembling voice, he managed to get to say what he needed to say. Linne gave a coy smile.
“Yeah! Be…st… Regards!”
“Best regards, yes!”
★
“I wonder if that child did well.”
“I think it’ll go well.”
“Aah, we should go and secretly assist him or something.”
Anemone was still sweeping the same area as earlier, clearly anxious if Soarer was working it out or not.
Fujiwara was more worried about the broom that her hands were clasped around, groaning.
“I’m just checking how it’s going”
“Anemone-san, calm down…”
They looked like parents who were worried over their child on their first time out of the house.
The suit of armor was rather suspicious, and hard to sneak around in. Rather, it could instead lead to trouble.
“Store Manager, you’re no good for Soarer, why are you coming along? A monster like you only cares about items, why would you be soft on others unless for an item. That must be it, this brute.”
“How awful a thing to say.”
“Aah, sorry to say that. I’m really truly sorry. I’m not thinking very straight.”
“Well, it’s just an unusual thing so I don’t mind it. Anemone-sab sure backs him up a lot!”
“No such thing, a child like this is the type to try to do everything on their own, so for some reason I feel the need to meddle.”
“Is that so?”
Fujiwara was the same way, though.
Anemone could likely see her old self in Soarer.
Before she found company she trusted, she tried not to depend on anyone, and she had a very sad time in her life.
“How did Anemone-San capture the third floor of the Dungeon, anyway?
“Aah? There are many capture methods. Metal Slimes can be slammed with a shield using muscle strength, and you can run away before it reforms.
“It does? Can you really call that a capture method?”
Then, Fujiwara remembered Anemone had experienced fifteen floors of the Dungeon alone.
Her nickname is “Footsteps of Death” because of the steel echoes heard, leaving behind carcasses of monsters, still humming.
This sort of person used an obstinate, full-frontal breakthrough.
“By the way, manager?”
“Yes.”
Anemone rose her face from the broomstick, looking towards Fujiwara
“It’s a she, not a he.”
“…It is?”
Fujiwara slightly tilted his head, not knowing what he was being told.
“Soarer-kun is a girl.”
“Ah, ah. I thought that was likely, didn’t want to say it.”
Fujiwara pretended to be calm, saying so. He focused on trying to drop his cup.
He hadn’t realized Soarer was a so-called ‘boku-kko’. (tl: female who refers to themselves as male)
In fact, he hadn’t noticed at all. It was a thought, and he thought it was a boy, but they’re fairly androgynous.
They were small statured for a swordsman and thin in some places, and in retrospect, the tone and behavior were somewhat girly as well.
It seems his training was not enough. Fujiwara vowed to have a more polished appraisal eye towards human beings, too.
Linne
◆
Discrimination Card “Fire Sword”
“Offer three hundred and twenty five drops of the descent of the people except unclean criminals with ashy eyes, an oxidization changing the world, like a bonfire in a traditional garden”
This is an imitation of an imitation, trying to mimic the Fire Drake’s ‘Tongue To Melt All’. Long ago, it was said things entangled by that tongue left nothing behind, not even ash, inspired by an anecdote in the “Era of Superior Mages” Cast by Housten Yodenheim, it’s a legendary fire blade. When used by a person, it’s said to give the blessing of the power of fire, cutting through rock and iron like butter. The blessings of Fire’s design process was lost however, so we can only use fire to strengthen swords. However, its ability to give us combustion on impact is good for enemies weak to fire like the undead, making it very effective. The market price is inexpensive at 20,000, and it’d displayed at a secondhand weapon store as ‘The First Giving Tool they seem to reach for when working hard’, an attracting target for novice investigators
