PreCursive
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Chapter 227 - Reunion in Blossom
🕑 Added 2024-09-04 17:00:09 +0000 UTCI couldn’t dawdle in the dining room forever, however. As much as I might have wished to, I had plans for the rest of the day. And while they didn’t involve any of my new hobbies, commercial or otherwise, I was still looking forward to it.
My friends were coming back from their hunt today, after all.
Well, they were supposed to, at least. The specific team of Oni Hunters they’d signed on to accompany had said they’d be back roughly a week after departing, and that week had passed. From my previous experience from my own expedition with this team, they were a bit of a stickler for things like timetables.
Tarus had fully cleared the horizon by the time I decided to leverage myself up from the table. The rest of the regular inn residents were only starting to appear in the dining room when I idled my way back up to my room to get ready. Once there, I dressed myself in a manner that wouldn’t mark me as a disrespectful foreign tourist. I was actually finding that I didn’t mind the local style of robes all that much. It reminded me of Venix and his own sense of style, which made sense considering how much time he’d spent in this country. But while his were white with pink cranes, I preferred black robes embroidered with golden branches.
Cinching my belt tighter, I eyed my personal weapon rack up on the wall of my room with pride. Once upon a time, all that I’d had to my name were the two daggers that I’d forged from Oninite back in Helstein. I still had them, of course, and I still enjoyed using them. In fact, I took them down from the rack and slid them into my wide cloth belt at the small of my back.
But that wasn’t all that I had these days.
Up there were two new additions to my repertoire.
My personal sword, and my bow.
While the local style seems to prefer curved swords such as Venix’s, I personally didn’t. I’d found that I still had a preference towards longswords, and had continued practicing with them. Thus, when I’d had the chance, I’d bought up a good amount of Oninite to forge one for my personal use as I had the Proficiency Talent at the time. And honestly, it just seemed like the style here in Kawamara to have a sword on you at all times. I noticed that people were just taken more seriously if they were visibly carrying one of their katanas on them.
Thus, my personal blade had been born.
It was a longsword, of course, but perhaps a bit shorter than the length of Grey’s own Stellarum. Double-edged and with an antlered motif at the crossguard, the hilt had been wrapped in a supple crimson leather. At the time of forging, I was a little lost as to what metal I should use to counterbalance the Oninite. I had eventually decided on going back to something I was familiar with using. I’d scoured the Hinagan marketplace for some of it and eventually found it.
Aetherically potent gold.
The hilt had been forged from the metal, and the blade itself had ended up with some small inclusions of it running down the length. The final product ended up looking quite striking. I…had wanted to name it, in the same way that Grey had named his own blade. After some deliberating, I had settled on something.
Thus, Terractus had been born.
I took the sheathed blade down from the wall, and slid it in my belt on my left hip. It rested comfortably there, quite literally made for me. I had no need for the bow I had made in much the same manner and from the same materials as Terractus, so I left it on the wall. But as I was leaving my room and slipping on the bamboo conical hat that seemed to be the style here in Hinaga, I did take the staff that had used to belong to Tlazo. I honestly thought of it as more mine these days, though.
I probably didn’t need it, but if nothing else, it worked as a fine walking stick.
Prepared, I left the inn, exchanging a nod with the sharp-eyed proprietress as I did so. The older woman returned the nod slightly, the expression on her elaborately painted face never moving an inch.
Stepping onto the busy streets of Hinaga, I was grateful for my hat as the spring sun was certainly shining brightly today. A delicate floral scent filled the air, as the many cherry blossom trees that lined the impeccably clean streets of Hinaga were in full bloom. Petals danced through the air as people went about their business, only casting the occasional glance my way, but not being overly rude about it. Another reason to be grateful for my hat, I suppose.
It helped to hide my ears.
Eventually, I successfully meandered my way to one of the side gates of the city, stopping only briefly along the way for a small local snack that I liked to call ‘chicken on a stick’. I’d developed a bit of a taste for the saucy strips of grilled bird in my time here.
Idly nibbling on my snack, I stayed out of the way as I came to a stop at the well-guarded entrance to the city. This wasn’t the main gate where merchants and traders came and went at all hours of the day, trundling along in their carts and wagons. This was the gate meant for adventurers, warriors, and hunters to come and go about their business. Here the guards and functionaries of the Hinagan bureaucracy inspected the kills and treasures that their martially inclined returned with.
And collected their due, of course.
It seemed like I had impeccable timing, as the large party of Oni Hunters that my friends had accompanied were just arriving at the same time I did. The massive armored cart they were using, almost reminiscent of the ironclads of the Uprising, was being inspected by the officials of Hinaga. Over a dozen massive warriors clad in black and blue layered armor stood stoically by as equally massive Hinaga soldiers clad in red and gold rifled through their trophies. I don’t think the Hunters even cared, as the vicious visage of their snarling masks simply stared straight ahead as the taxmen collected their due.
They were probably used it, by now.
Not so for my friends, it seems.
Well, at least one of them.
I had to stifle a laugh as I watched Renauld uselessly try and argue with one of the toll collectors as they took his bag away and started rifling through it right in front of him. The Gnoll was so agitated that he reached up and ripped his small little box hat right off his furry head and threw it into the dirt in frustration. The bureaucrat just ignored him as Renauld clutched at the hems of his locally styled Healers robe with an evil stare.
In contrast, neither Azarus or Liora seemed to care all that much, if probably for different reasons. My oldest friend here in Vereden just his shrugged his owned layered and lacquered armored shoulders and handed over his bag for inspection, likely uncaring about the tax. He’d always had a different frame of mind about wealth, ever since I’d known him. Probably because of his upbringing as a noble, even if he couldn’t claim that title anymore. However, he did look a bit tired standing there in his newest personally forged armor, styled in the same manner as the Hinagan’s, colored a solid steel grey. It must been a long, tough march, after an equally long, tough hunt.
I'd found that the Oni in these parts certainly lived up to their reputation.
I’m not sure what Liora thought the entire scene. It was always hard to tell considering her high mastery of her emotional state. She could have hated the inspection, but I found that unlikely. Not much seemed to bother the former infiltration specialist. She stood still as her own bag was taken from her, barely budging in her form-fitting fighting leathers. I’d offered to forge her whatever weapon she desired, but the Gnoll woman had declined. These days, she seemed to disdain using anything bladed, even the hooked dagger that she always kept on her. I believe she had truly abandoned her former life as an assassin, as Baldric had wished.
Good. That made two of us.
She was looking better these days, and not just because of the change in vocation. There hadn’t been the resources for it back in Elderwyck, so pretty much as soon as we had touched down here in Hinaga, she had sought out a Gyreite church to have the eye Nerexxa had stolen from her regenerated. No more eyepatch for her.
Now I didn’t feel bad about having my own eyesight returned to me.
As my friends were being fleeced, I tossed my now clean stick and wandered up to the squad of Hunters, making sure to clack my staff onto the cobblestone to announce my presence. I probably didn’t need to, considering the high perception that seemed inherent to these warriors, but it was polite. The mask of the Hunter that I knew to be this troop’s leader turned in my direction as I approached. “Kuroshō,” He acknowledged me with a slight dip of his head, the massive man’s deep voice echoing out of his mask.
I returned the nod respectfully. I had personally seen this man swing a battle-mace larger than I was to effortlessly pulverize the skull of an Oni with complete indifference. Frankly, I wondered if he might have been stronger than General Lonstripe had been. But of course I didn’t dare to Observe him.
That was an actual crime, here in Hinaga.
They took their politeness very seriously.
“Captain Takao,” I said with a small smile. “Did you have a productive hunt?”
The large man grunted in assent. “Two newborns, one elder,” He said in satisfaction, causing his fellows around him to nod along. “They shall not trouble the people any longer.”
“Good,” I said decisively. When I’d gone on my own hunt with Captain Takao’s squad, I’d seen firsthand just how vital their service was. A fully grown, Prime Oni was not something to disregard. An entire village had been blown down into smoldering cinders by the time we had tracked the creature down.
At that point, all we could do was provide vengeance to those poor people.
I’d found that being an Oni Hunter was clean work, all around. Little to no moral ambiguity to be found there.
As we’d been talking, I caught Azarus’s eyes from across the checkpoint. He quirked an eyebrow at me, visible underneath his helmet, causing me to shrug at him. He smirked, and then nudged Liora, which I doubted he’d needed to do. The former Agent had likely noticed me that instant I approached the gate. Still, she turned her head just enough to nod at me in acknowledgement.
Renauld was still too busy arguing uselessly to a functionary who had completely disregarded him to notice me.
I chuckled silently and leaned on my staff, settling in to wait on them.
It was nice to see my friends again.
…………………………………………………
Half an hour later, the four of us had retreated to a local tea house not far from the warrior's gate. This place was a popular location for those returning from the field, and thus, was a bit more rowdy than some of the other establishments I’d tried out here in Hinaga. As a result, it was mostly self-serve.
For obvious reasons.
I neatly side-stepped one warrior with a truly impressive beard as he stumbled around drunkenly, eventually falling flat on his face to the cheers of his compatriots. I kept the tray of refreshments I was carrying far away from the man as I threaded my way back to the table where my friends were.
It had been a bit of a surprise to find out that alcoholic tea of all things was popular with the Kawamarans. Honestly, it wasn’t as disgusting as it sounded.
I suspected a bit of Alchemical shenanigans were at play.
This was actually our third round of the day. It might have only been a week since the last time we’d seen each other, but it was still nice to chat and catch up over drinks and snacks. We’d already filled up, though, so it was just the tea for now.
I set the tray down on our table to a round of thanks from my compatriots, each of them pouring themselves a cup from the pot. I did the same as I sat down, not bothering to hide my amusement at the way Renauld was glowering down into his own cup.
“It couldn’t have been that bad,” I said to him teasingly. “The toll collectors would probably get shanked if they took too much.”
Renauld looked up from his cup to give me the evil eye. “It’s the damned principle of the thing,” He grumbled. “Whoever heard of a toll being paid in cores of all things? Just take your damn gold like a proper flatfoot!”
“How very Herztalian of you,” Liora said mildly, taking a small sip of her tea. I saw her withhold a small smirk as Renauld winced at the words, and sent the other Gnoll a wounded look in return.
Azarus rolled his eyes and gingerly took a sip from his own cup. He winced at the taste as I stifled a laugh. The dwarf wasn’t a huge fan of the local variety of tea, complaining that it was too weak for his tastes. He’d been whining about it ever since we’d landed on these shores. He deliberately set down his cup and then pulled out a flask, pouring a measure of something dark into it.
Guess I should have gotten him some of that boozy leaf juice, instead of the normal stuff.
When he was done, he looked over at me and cut through bickering from our Gnoll comrades. “So, what’s the news?” He said bluntly. “Anything from down south?”
My smile faded at the reminder as it grew quiet at the table. Guess it was finally time to break the jovial atmosphere. Too bad.
I'd enjoyed it while it lasted.
Renauld and Liora were listening with rapt attention now, because all of us had been involved in one way or another.
I took a deep breath and set my cup down, meeting their eyes. “Well,” I started with a humorless smirk.
“The war is over, now.”
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