Vizima Entry Permit

On the way home after leaving Kalkstein's alchemy workshop at noon, Angoulême followed behind Victor somewhat guiltily. The boy's expression had been quite sour ever since they left.

After hesitating for a moment, the girl finally ventured, "Captain, you don't seem to be in a very good mood. Did things not go well?"

He shot her a fierce glare, half tempted to vent his irritation with a few curses, but unfortunately, his fatherly instincts still held the upper hand.

So Victor said irritably, "I'm not going to praise you for reading the room this time. Anyway, things went very smoothly. I'm upset for another reason, so don't ask."

Anyone would have been in a bad mood after being teased like that.

Put simply, Kalkstein had asked him several metaphysical—that was, abstract—questions. After Victor answered them fluently, the older alchemist had lectured his junior for being too ambitious.

He mocked Victor for being so young yet reciting mature thoughts he had memorized from who knew where, thoughts that clearly did not belong to him, and presenting them as his own answers. It was an utterly foolish thing to do.

For instance, with Victor's age and life experience, was he studying alchemy in pursuit of truth?

...Victor himself didn't believe that. He had never cared about truth. He knew what he wanted was power—the power to control his own destiny.

So when his "deliberate pandering" was mercilessly torn apart, Victor had nothing to say.

Fortunately, he had only lost a little face, and no third person knew about it. After tearing him down, Kalkstein also said that he still appreciated this young junior.

He liked the answers Victor had memorized, especially "a seeker of truth," which was practically a description of Kalkstein himself.

Thus, he was willing to offer Victor his alchemical insights and notes for reference, provided that he brought—Kalkstein spread open the list of materials in his hand—ghoul blood, alghoul marrow, drowner brains, rotfiend hide, cemetery moss, moleyarrow, White Crape Myrtle Petals... and over twenty other assorted alchemical ingredients, each with a required quantity, in exchange.

There was no requirement to collect everything. However many materials he brought would be exchanged for that much knowledge. Those were Kalkstein's exact words.

But many of the materials on that list could only be obtained outside the city, so things returned to where they had been a day ago. The task of "obtaining a pass to enter and leave Vizima" once again lay before him.

The advantage over yesterday, however, was that today he could find someone he could speak to—and someone who could issue permits: Vincent Meis, captain of the Vizima city guard.

The Phantom Troupe found Captain Vincent at the city guard training grounds. When a guard ran off to notify him, they could see from afar that he was holding a practice sword and instructing his subordinates in swordsmanship.

The middle-aged man walked over from a distance. He had black hair, a receding hairline, and a slight belly. He wore thin plate armor beneath an outer tunic bearing Temeria's lily emblem, while the deep lines running from his nose to the corners of his mouth made him seem far older than he actually was.

Well prepared, Victor took out the "Bloodthirsty Plant" bounty notice he had removed from the bulletin board. "Honorable Captain, I have come regarding this notice. I am willing to leave the city and eradicate this bloodthirsty monster, but the sealed city gates prevent me from serving you."

The captain sized up the young mercenary for a while. The steel sword at his waist was more than decoration, and his leather armor reinforced with iron plates bore marks of wear. The woman following behind him did not look like some useless ornament, either.

These two were clearly not here to swindle anyone, but whether they could complete the task was another matter entirely.

Having judged the two mercenaries' capabilities, Vincent folded his arms and said, "This is quite a dangerous job, young man. I suggest you think it over again. Are four hundred Orens really worth risking your life for?"

Victor placed his right hand over his chest and solemnly replied, "We have considered it carefully, Captain. We hope to be given this opportunity. The Phantom Troupe is willing to serve Temeria."

"The Phantom Troupe?" The captain of the guard was somewhat puzzled. From north of the Yaruga River to south of the Pontar River, he knew at least something about every moderately famous mercenary group in Temeria, but he had truly never heard this name before.

Regarding the captain's ignorance, Angoulême cheerfully offered a helpful explanation. "Our mercenary group was only founded recently. Right now, there are just the two of us."

That unreliable answer immediately made Vincent shake his head. Another pair of young people seeking thrills, ignorant of the vastness of heaven and earth. They did not understand that only death awaited them. He had seen far too many of their kind over the years.

Though a few promising figures had emerged among them, those capable sorts could be recruited after they returned alive.

With that thought, there was nothing more to say. He waved over a guard at random. "Jethro, take them to the guard station. Register them and get them two city gate passes."

Then Vincent said to Victor, "Give Jethro fifty Orens later. The price of an opportunity, understand?"

"Perfectly understood, sir."

By the time they returned home for the fourth time, it was already night. As expected of Temeria's capital, every piece of equipment required for alchemy was available. Having finished his purchases, Victor went down to the basement and began setting up his alchemy room, while Angoulême helped carry the items down from upstairs.

Naturally, the first thing he set up was the foundation of Incredible Alchemy: the mysterious scalding cauldron that was always boiling something unknown.

After moving everything, the troupe member sat idly nearby and watched her captain arrange the room. It was not that she did not want to help; it was that the alchemy apprentice would not let her interfere. Within Victor's domain, every beaker and every test tube had to be placed just right.

With nothing to do, the girl rested her cheek on one hand in boredom, swinging her long legs. Then she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right, Captain. That amulet from noon? You said it could reduce the chance of catching the plague. What does it do?"

The boy happened to be leaning close to the cauldron, wiping its inner walls, so his voice rang out with a booming echo. "Don't worry. That anti-flea amulet is a Ban Ard specialty. It's handmade by mages, so the quality is guaranteed."

Then he raised his head and met Angoulême's indignant glare. "Hey! Don't glare at me so quickly. I'm not making fun of you. The plague is transmitted through flea bites," the boy said seriously.

"How did you know that, Captain?"

"How could I be your captain if I didn't know that?"

Those few words cut off the girl's resentful complaints. Victor poured water into the cauldron, lit the firewood, and beckoned her over. "Don't say I'm not good to you. Today, your captain will teach you an ultimate skill! Learn it, and you'll never have to worry about food or clothes for the rest of your life."

"Huh! What is it?" Angoulême's round brown eyes shone with interest.

"Relax. Just watch me demonstrate it once. It's simple—the method for making delicious tea eggs.

Here... toss these tea leaves and eggs into the pot, then stir them around, like this: glug glug glug glug, clack clack clack clack... then there's a flash of light, whoosh, and they turn into tea eggs..."

As he spoke, a faint light flashed. Victor scooped the tea eggs floating in the cauldron out with a ladle, casually peeled one, and gave half to Angoulême to taste.

"The egg is so good! This method is amazing! Can I really learn it?"

"You either can or you can't. You'll know once you try." When he said those words, the boy's voice was calm and distant, carrying a nostalgia and gratitude only he himself understood.