The Minotaur Clan

Meditation really could replace sleep. Annan woke without a trace of fatigue.

The only drawback was that a night of it cost about fifty silver coins.

Even a girl at the Morning Breeze Inn who boasted of “Elf blood” charged only six silver coins.

Breakfast was minced meat, soft bread, and a small dish of pickles. Aunt Susan was clumsy at preparing meat. Or perhaps every step, from butchering the animal to raising it, had been handled badly—the meat still reeked. Thankfully, the bread's lightly crisp crust and the crunchy pickles cut through the pork's gamey richness.

Annan gave up on buying some random gift to fool Mr. Victor and went out with a pound of bread for him instead. The old man wouldn't really be angry if Annan forgot a gift, but trying to deceive him would be asking for trouble.

Annan opened the Library, left the bread in Victor's sunny corner, and began cleaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Victor enter at nine sharp and settle into his wooden chair. Before long, the smell of bread drifted over from behind the chair, hidden from view—

After cleaning the library and sweeping the dust into a dustpan, Annan dampened his handkerchief, wiped his hands clean, and returned to the desk to open the Warlock's Handbook.

He had reached the Charm Chapter. Hmm... Aside from the Meditation Chapter, it was Annan's favorite part.

[People misunderstand warlocks. They think we go around spilling our overflowing passions and bodily fluids everywhere, that there isn't a creature we'd turn down, from red dragons to gnomes. There are ten times more erotic novels starring warlocks than ones starring mages, warriors, and bards combined... This is blatant prejudice. We are not promiscuous. It's all because of our damned charm. Whether born to the bloodline or awakened, warlocks hold an irresistible attraction for other races... You've probably heard that elves find humans ugly, dwarves find them scrawny, and giants think they aren't even as big as a juvenile giant's dick. A warlock's charm makes up for all of that.]

[So don't feel ashamed of it. This is one of the advantages that places Sorcerers above every other profession—]

Annan fell into thought after reading that section.

Neither Tasia nor Soluman Copperbeard had shown any forbidden feelings toward him so far. Leaving aside the possibility that the handbook was exaggerating, perhaps it was because Annan wasn't a proper warlock yet—his Mana Vortex still couldn't support stable spellcasting.

For the next dozen or so days, Annan settled into a routine, spending each day going between the Library, the inn, and Aunt Susan's house.

He still had a long way to go before he could cast the Lesser Summoning Spell. Sometimes, hoping to save money, Annan tried meditating in the Library or going without Magic Materials. The results were poor—or rather, nonexistent.

Whenever he tried to recall the pull he had felt the day before, the faintest rustle of turning pages, whistle of wind, or noise from the street would drag him out of meditation.

Lindy didn't come today, and there weren't many visitors to the Library. Around noon, a commotion rose from the street. Annan didn't know what had happened.

In the afternoon, Mr. Victor's long shadow shifted slightly.

It was Victor's afternoon tea time. Ordinarily, the old man would take his cane and amble to the restaurant next door for a cup of coffee. Ever since Annan had arrived... Well, Annan took the twenty copper coins Victor gave him and went next door.

This clean restaurant, styled after those in Breeze City, stood in Pinglin Town and, predictably, had few customers. But if you laughed at the owner for being foolish, he would only laugh at you for being short-sighted—

As the town's only "noble" restaurant, it took orders from the wealthy, while ordinary people took pride in eating a meal there. It had no shortage of business.

The server already knew Annan well. The black-haired boy was both unusual and a neighbor. After asking the cook to bring out the coffee prepared for him, the server went back to chatting with a coworker. "The mayor wouldn't let them in. The guards drove them away."

"A pack of monsters thought they could enter the town?"

From those scraps of conversation, Annan learned that a group of Minotaurs had come to Pinglin Town.

Had they come because of Tasia?

Annan picked up the coffee and returned to the Library, pondering the news.

He spent the afternoon immersed in books. When the mantel clock chimed, Annan sprang up as though a Goblin spring were tucked beneath him and rushed to the entrance. He waited for Mr. Victor, whose aged face was full of disdain, to leave, then locked the doors.

On his way to the inn, he gradually pieced together the situation from passersby. A Minotaur clan had indeed arrived and set up camp outside town. Many townspeople were hawking goods there at prices half again as high as in town, or even double.

When Annan reached the inn, he found Tasia, who usually hid in the cellar, squeezed in beside a table. Soluman Copperbeard sat next to her, swinging her legs above the floor.

"Tasia, you heard?"

Tasia nodded. She had been waiting for Annan.

"Did they come looking for you?"

Tasia shook her head again. Minotaurs cared deeply for their own, but she had been born into human society and had lost her parents.

"They're headed for the Snow Mountains to hold back the Northern Demonic Tide... Those damned arrogant humans! Ahem... I don't mean you."

Soluman Copperbeard had every reason to be angry. The humans hadn't even let the people protecting them enter the town, simply because they were Minotaurs.

Then Annan noticed a bundle beside Tasia.

"You want to rejoin your clan?"

"I hope you'll allow it..." Tasia knelt on one knee before Annan, but looked him straight in the eye.

"You don't need anyone's permission anymore..." Annan shook his head gently. Reluctant as he was to see her go, he said, "If the Minotaurs accept you, you'll have a better life with them."

But perhaps neither humans nor Minotaurs would accept Tasia. To Minotaurs, she was half human; to humans, she was half Minotaur.

She was an outsider among either people.

"And you should know those Minotaurs are going to the Snow Mountains..."

Annan knew little about the lands north of Breeze City, only that the territory beyond the Snow Mountains belonged to demons.

"We grow through blood and fire." Tasia rose to her feet.

Out of curiosity, Annan had glanced through the copy of Bastard that Tasia had borrowed. He happened to remember those words from its title page.

"All right. I'll go with you," Annan said, asking Soluman Copperbeard to request leave from Faster on his behalf.

"Wait."

Once they were outside, Annan stopped Tasia from heading straight for the Minotaur camp. He first went with her to the market to buy two hundred-pound sacks of coarse wheat flour, then headed out of town.

The Minotaurs had enclosed their camp with a wooden fence, with felt tents scattered inside. Outside the camp, townspeople were calling out their wares from handcarts or baskets.

"I'll talk to them..."

Annan gave Tasia a heads-up as he approached a Minotaur with thick horns alongside her.

The Minotaur noticed Tasia approaching. It clenched a fist and tapped its forehead beneath its horns.

Tasia set down the flour and made the same gesture.

The Minotaur suddenly looked delighted and excited. Annan guessed it was a gesture made by every Minotaur who recognized one of their own.

The good news was that the Minotaurs hadn't rejected Tasia.

But Annan might be about to lose a friend.