The system definitely has a motive. And whatever that motive is, it brought me here as part of it. I do not hold that against it. It is not as if I had anything particularly meaningful waiting for me back home. This world is interesting, at least. Dangerous, yes, but interesting. And for the first time in a while, I feel like I am actually useful somewhere.
Valthor was released yesterday. The second phase of the plan is now moving. My contribution to that part is minimal, so I turned my attention to the things only I can do.
First, visiting a dungeon. Second, preparing the concoction to break Maren's slave bracelet. The materials themselves were not the difficult part. The method of using them was what required care. Third, beginning Veyra's treatment, and finalizing a contract with her before we started.
As for Joseph, if he had pointed even half of that obsessive energy toward something constructive, he might have actually rebuilt his family name. I still needed to speak with Maren properly. About her family, about what she wanted to do now that things had changed.
Questioning Kierra directly about her abilities felt like the wrong approach. It would be better if she brought it up herself. But to satisfy my immediate curiosity I went to the mansion library first. I found a book covering the foxkin races in some detail. Dusk foxkin, silver foxkin, wild foxkin, and several others. None of their documented traits matched Kierra. Either she was a crossbreed, which their culture considered deeply taboo, or she was a rare exception born within her clan. I decided to leave it alone. Some questions cost more than their answers are worth.
Kierra came with me to see Veyra. Given the nature of the treatment, having her present made sense. And I wanted to learn more about adventuring from someone who had lived it from the inside.
I have no interest in becoming an adventurer in the conventional sense, killing monsters for coins and building a reputation floor by floor. I have no interest in chasing godlike strength either. But every time I read about the dungeons or heard someone describe them, curiosity grew. It had become harder to ignore.
Veyra lived on the outskirts of the city. She trained aspiring adventurers occasionally and helped manage the city's crime rate in her own way. Despite losing her ability to wield mana, she remained a formidable presence. I could not truly empathize with what that loss meant to her, but I knew better than to offer sympathy. People like her do not want it.
The carriage stopped after an hour.
The building rose two stories from the earth like it had always been there. Rough grey stone at the base, dark oak beams climbing upward, faint carvings worn smooth by decades of wind and weather. The second floor jutted outward, throwing a cool shadow across the lower level even at midday. Beneath the overhang, carved wooden brackets lined the edge, wolves mid-stride, ravens with spread wings, antlered spirits frozen in silent watch. Whoever built this place had not tried to push the wilderness back. They had invited it in, shaped it into wood, and called it home.
"Your house is remarkable," I said. "One day I would like to build something like this."
Veyra set Kierra down from a hug and said, "My mother built it. She gave it to my father as a wedding gift, back when he was still adventuring."
I glanced around. "And now?"
"They are traveling the world somewhere."
She looked at me. "If you come here, you are ready to start the treatment."
"There are a few things to discuss before we begin."
"Sit down then. I will make tea." Kierra moved toward the kitchen without waiting.
I sat at the kitchen table and pulled out pen and paper. "I want to draw up a written contract."
Veyra raised an eyebrow. "A paper contract? A magic contract would carry more weight."
"This carries more weight. Trust me. I will write the terms, the rewards, and the penalties. If anything does not sit right with you, say so."
She nodded.
"Terms: I will heal your mana core and any other damage I find in your body. This will not happen in one session. It may take one to two months. You are forbidden from telling anyone that I treated you or describing any skill or method I used, including to me after the fact." I dropped my voice. "Reward: you will help me obtain an adventurer card, gain entry to the labyrinth, and guide me through three labyrinth runs."
The dungeon itself stood in the capital. This city had two labyrinths.
"Wait." She lowered her voice to match mine. "Why would you need my help for that? You could arrange it yourself."
I tilted my head toward the kitchen where Kierra was still working. "Keep it down. I cannot fight, and the weapons I use would raise too many questions. I also need a forged identity. But one thing at a time."
"Fine."
"Penalty: if you fail to fulfill your side of the contract, you lose access to your skills as an adventurer."
Psychological penalties work. I was not entirely sure of the mechanism, but they did.
"Magic contracts do not function that way," she said.
"This is not a magic contract. It is one of my skills."
"Also," she added, almost as an afterthought, "she has extremely sharp hearing. Whispering was pointless."
Kierra walked out of the kitchen, set the tray on the table, and fixed me with a look that required no words.
I had known about her sense of smell. I had completely forgotten about her hearing.
"Can you pretend you did not hear that? I will treat you to something sweet later. Better than last time."
Please work. If the princess finds out about this I am finished.
"We will talk about it later," Kierra said, and walked out of the house.
After she left I finalized the terms with Veyra and somehow, without Kierra present, convinced her that the treatment required her to lie bare-backed on the table. The grimoire was explicit about the method. There was nothing else behind it.
Kierra was still visibly irritated when she rejoined me, but she accompanied me to the adventurer district without making it worse than it needed to be. We moved through the stalls and specialty shops for hours, tracking down the materials Joseph had described, then found an alchemist willing to commission the concoction on the spot for an extra fee. I paid without negotiating. I could afford it. Between what I had taken from the treasury and what I had converted, I was sitting on close to two thousand gold coins.
We settled into the carriage for the ride back to the mansion.