A Return

"Oh! Carrion Worm tentacles! These are good stuff!" The magic shop's manager happily fiddled with the "spoils" Singers had poured out of his leather pouch, paying no attention to the filth and stench clinging to them. "Ten intact! Nine damaged! Good heavens, look at how many there are! Look at the damage! I'm sure that must have been a brutal battle! Dear old Singers, did you run into a Carrion Worm uprising?"

The commander of the Axe of Mirabar was more concerned with where the one-eyed dwarf had encountered these disgusting monsters. He worried that the dangerous creatures might threaten the residents of Mirabar's underground city. Ordinary dwarves could barely withstand a Carrion Worm's attacks; only warriors in full plate armor could fight them. Torg knew his old friend well. Though Singers could be impulsive at times, he wasn't a fool. That much was clear from the fact that the one-eyed dwarf had carved a passage from his home into the underground tunnels years ago—with Torg even helping—yet had hardly ever gone down there. Singers would never pick a fight with underground monsters he couldn't defeat. Besides, he seemed unharmed, apart from a few fresh scratches on his armor, which was a little dirty despite having been rinsed with clean water. Torg glanced at William in confusion. The tall, sturdy boy was even cleaner.

When onlookers gathered, Phinia and the two little ones, who loathed the strange stench, immediately returned to Singers' smithy. They weren't used to being stared at, so Torg never got to see the half-ogre woman.

"Mr. Magriel, there's another big one outside! Could you take a look and see if it's worth anything?" William called out, interrupting the magic shop's manager as he enthusiastically praised the paralyzing tentacles.

Magriel unconsciously wiped his filthy hands on the neat cashmere tablecloth, leaving several glaring smears behind. Coming to his senses, he immediately cast a minor cantrip, and his hands and the tablecloth were instantly clean again. Magriel gave an embarrassed smile and followed William outside. Singers, who had been bickering with Torg, cheerfully came along as well.

Almost no one knew of the Carrion Beast (Gravorg), for precious few had ever seen one. But that didn't stop Magriel from identifying it. The magic shop's scruffy manager pulled a thick, hardback book from inside his robe. Heaven knew how he'd managed to hide such a large volume against his flat chest. Magriel supported the book with his left hand and raised his right to cast a spell—no, not that! He opened the book and began searching for the relevant entry, which took quite a while. Singers was already bragging to the onlookers about his "heroic deeds." His story was full of holes, but his listeners were still amazed. William, meanwhile, watched the "book of wonders" in Magriel's hands with interest—or perhaps it was better described as a collection of monsters. Each page featured a beautiful illustration and plenty of written notes, though William couldn't read the script.

By the time Sunderland arrived, Magriel had finally found the entry on the Carrion Beast. He read it word for word: "Carrion Beast (Gravorg), a powerful scavenger from beneath the earth. It excels at freely using its innate Spell-like Ability, [Antigravity], and is an excellent material for crafting items that grant flight or reduce weight."

The "learned" manager closed the bestiary and gave William a wrinkled, obsequious smile. "And you are—? Oh! Mr. William! This Carrion Beast is undoubtedly very valuable! I simply can't estimate its worth. How about this: I'll pay two hundred gold coins for each intact Carrion Worm tentacle and eighty for each damaged one! As for the monster's corpse, you can choose any two magic items from my little shop in exchange! What do you say?"

Before William could answer, Sunderland, who had been listening for a while, cut in. "Wait! Who does this disgusting thing belong to?" The female magistrate already knew what the monster was, but pretended otherwise. She wanted the rare corpse for herself—and wanted it for free. William ignored her. Fuming, Sunderland addressed him directly. "William! You again, you wretched man! You killed it?!" Her question was full of scorn and disbelief. "Ha! This thing belongs to me now! You can move back into that house later. Guards! Take this disgusting thing away!" Her haughty tone was infuriating.

An unexpected rival had appeared. Magriel wasn't about to let a deal slip away just as it was within reach. He hurriedly spread his arms to stop the guards from moving and said to Sunderland, "Wait! Wait, Magistrate! You can't do that! I got to this deal first! You can't suddenly swoop in and take away what I've set my heart on! Oh, beautiful Lady Sunderland! Mr. William has already agreed to my offer! The lord's decree protects the deal!"

"Really? I don't recall hearing him agree. Or have you already signed a contract?" Sunderland asked with an amused smile. She was certain that the detestable William would try to win her favor and mend their relationship. The woman had been blinded by the habitual flattery of foreign merchants, and a secure home should be a powerful temptation for a family like William's, who were dependent on others.

But William wasn't someone who could be judged by ordinary standards.

Magriel was left speechless by Sunderland's question and gave up hope in dejection. Then William spoke. "Two magic items aren't enough! You'll have to add that book you were just holding, too!" Magriel's hopes flared again, though he looked both delighted and reluctant. "Oh, Mr. William! You're asking far too much! You know, I rely on this precious Atlas of World Creatures to run my shop! You can't do this! I only have this one copy!"

William paid no mind to the magic shop manager's feigned distress. He delivered a firm ultimatum. "Are you making the trade or not? Take it or leave it!" He turned as if to walk away.

"Don't! Please don't go! I'll trade! I'll trade, Mr. William! I'm taking a huge loss here! Hey, Mr. Torg! Could you find a few people to help me bring this big fellow inside?" Magriel hurriedly caught William and pretended to accept the terms with a pained expression, then cheerfully called on Torg for help.

Sunderland's face turned livid with frustration. She pointed at William and said in a rough, trembling voice, "Fine! Just you wait, you damned William! I'll— I'll— I'll never forgive you! Hmph!" Nearly in tears with anger, the female magistrate fled in embarrassment and fury.

Inside Magriel's magic item display area, William looked around at the dazzling array of strange objects. Singers had given up his right to choose a magic item. Almost all dwarves disliked enchanted items unless they'd made them themselves or received them from or inherited them from family, such as a father or mentor. Most of the magic items here were small. William picked a special hair ornament for Phinia and a pretty, glowing belt for little Mishaer. The little one had been very envious of Aelf's luminous sash. Since William had chosen only inexpensive trinkets, Magriel, in a rare show of conscience, let him pick one more item as compensation. William casually took a green jade leaf from a nearby corner, making the poor manager so heartbroken he nearly slapped himself. It was the most precious item he had on display.

Having made a handsome profit, William returned to the smithy with the items. Singers, meanwhile, had already gone off to the tavern with Torg and a group of dwarves to drink. William handed out the three items. Phinia used the hair ornament with interest to tie her hair back behind her head, letting a clear, orange-red crystal dangle over her forehead. It was a magic gem that enhanced a woman's charm—though it worked on effeminate men, too! After all, no normal man would wear it. The little girl wore the belt, which gave off a gentle glow, and strutted around with a smug little smile. The belt's light could also change color. Aelf stared at the jade-green leaf in her hands, amazed. "Is this really for little Aelf?" When William nodded, she cried, "Yeah!" and jumped up, running around wildly. She picked up the squealing Mishaer and shook her with all her might.

As for the Atlas of World Creatures, Aelf said it was written in Elvish, so the little elf would look after it for the time being. But the little rascal, now thoroughly bribed, had already agreed to teach William three Elvish lessons.

Two days later, after waking from a drunken stupor, Singers decided to explore the underground caves again. This time, two extra companions joined them: Torg Danzo Hammer-Striker and a black-robed, masked figure. The one-eyed dwarf, still addled by drink, had muddledly agreed to let his old friend come along at the tavern. Though the black-robed figure did their best to conceal their movements, William couldn't help thinking they were a woman. Their gaze was also extremely hostile; he could sense a furious resentment from far away.

After William kept looking them over, the black-robed figure finally lost patience. She yanked down her hood and face covering and shouted furiously, "Damn you, William! Have you stared enough? So what if it's me? Don't you dare look at me again! Do you hear me?" The participant's unveiled face startled Singers and the others—though not William or the exasperated Torg.