Dawn had barely broken when a long line formed outside the Saronite Bio-Alchemy Workshop. From a distance, a dark sea of heads bobbed and jostled, making for quite a lively scene.
"Keep it down. Lord Al is still resting. If I catch anyone making a racket, don't blame old Hemet's double-barreled shotgun for not watching where it shoots."
Hemet held his fine-quality double-barreled shotgun and eyed the restless adventurers menacingly.
"Hmph, what's he so smug about? If Lord Al hadn't shown him mercy, that little runt would've gone to meet his grandfather long ago," a green-skinned Goblin cursed under his breath.
"Tell me about it. He hasn't learned a scrap of decency, but he's got the pompous official act down perfectly. Does he really think we're afraid of him? We just respect Lord Al..."
Whispers rose from the crowd now and then, but no one made a loud disturbance.
The reason for today's bustle was that Hemet had spread the word well in advance: only the last hundred doses of Jinkela 2.0 remained, and today was the clearance sale. Each dose cost 800 gold coins. Hey, don't complain about the price-one per person, first come, first served.
When the adventurers heard the news, every one of them seethed with indignation, cursing and swearing. Some of the more radical ones even declared that they would unite to boycott the Bio-Alchemy Workshop's products and drive it out of business.
But the next day, all those voices vanished. Everyone obediently lined up, because they knew this was their last chance to make a killing.
Just then, a graceful figure approached the vigilant Hemet and took the initiative to help him maintain order.
She was a human girl of eighteen or nineteen, with pretty features and long, pale blond hair. Every movement carried a young girl's youthful air.
"Holly, what are you doing here?"
Hemet lowered his voice and whispered rather helplessly to the girl beside him.
"I came to help you keep order. Lord Al will be so happy to see me when he wakes up." The girl's voice was clear and lovely, her pretty face slightly flushed with anticipation.
"Lord Al won't be happy. You should go back to your brother. I think he'll have some life advice for you," Hemet said tactfully.
"Says who? Lord Al smiled at me just yesterday." Holly flashed a lovestruck grin.
Holly Marshall was Marshal Williden's younger sister. The two had adventured all the way here from Lordaeron.
When Al first arrived, this brave girl happened to be out hunting with the hunting party. But the instant she returned to camp and saw Al, her restless young heart was captured.
From morning to night, she seized every opportunity to get close to the boy, expertly serving him tea and water, until Al had no choice but to hide in his laboratory to escape this excessively enthusiastic girl.
As old Hemet put it, even Will Heavyfist's dog would shake its head at the sight.
"Lord Al smiles at everyone." The old dwarf sighed helplessly and continued dropping hints.
"Lord Al must like me too!" Holly argued insistently.
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
"A couple of days ago, I had a bit of a fever and lay down in Lord Al's bed. I asked why he wasn't showing me any concern, and he asked if I was sick and told me to hurry up and take some medicine if I was. Lord Al is so gentle. He really does care about me."
Hemet: ...
"There's more! There's more!"
The girl waved her arms excitedly and continued:
"I confessed to Lord Al yesterday!"
"Really? What did Lord Al say?" Hemet looked interested.
"He told me to roll away!"
Hemet: ...
"Lord Al is so considerate. He knows my home is far from here. He must have a place for me in his heart. He told me to roll because he was afraid walking would tire me out, right?" Holly clasped both hands to her chest, her eyes turning into two hearts.
Hemet: There's no cow in milk, no wife in wife cakes, and no you in his heart...
"Hurry up and move. If we don't leave now, it'll be too late."
With his staff on his back, Al flew slowly through the dense woods. Behind him was old Hemet, exhausted like a dog.
"Huff, huff, Lord Al, she... she shouldn't be able to catch up now."
Hemet bent over with his hands braced on his knees, panting heavily. From time to time, he glanced behind him, looking for who knew what.
"You're such a lightweight, old Hemet. It's only been a few kilometers, and you're already panting like this. Do you even want revenge?"
Al hovered in midair and pointed at the exhausted dwarf, his face full of exasperation at his lack of mettle.
Hemet: I'm tired... let it all end.
"Scrape, scrape..."
"What's that sound?" Al looked back warily, and the sight that greeted him nearly made his eyes split.
Dressed in a cowhide hunting outfit, Holly Marshall raced toward the two of them at tremendous speed like an Abnormal Titan.
Her lovely face had lost all its usual prettiness. Her smile was twisted, and the whites of her eyes showed. If one listened carefully, words like "Al" and "mine" occasionally escaped her mouth.
Al: Don't come any closer!
Without another word, Al grabbed one of Hemet's feet and took off at full speed. Poor old Hemet was airborne before he even understood what was happening.
"The women down the mountain are tigers. The ancients really didn't lie to me. Phew... we've flown more than ten kilometers now. That crazy woman definitely can't catch up."
Al patted his chest and let out a long breath.
"Whoa, Hemet, has your hair loss gotten that bad?"
Al turned his head and saw the old dwarf looking on the verge of tears, stroking his bald crown in anguish.
During their flight of more than ten kilometers, Al had certainly enjoyed himself, but the old dwarf had suffered. With one foot clamped firmly in Al's grip, and with them flying so low, his head had smashed countless stones and loosened the soil in countless patches of ground. That gleaming forehead was the best evidence of Al's crimes.
Hemet: In the end, I bore it all alone.
"Uh, don't be angry, Hemet. Don't you think this hairstyle is especially manly and suits you perfectly?"
Al gave an awkward smile.
Hemet: My thanks to your entire family.
The two had traveled far from Marshal's Refuge and were now trudging unevenly through a muddy swamp. Because of what had happened to Hemet, Al had been forced to give up flying in a spirit of atonement.
"Wait!"
Hemet called out a warning and hurried to a large pit more than ten meters away.
"Did you find something?" Al followed close behind.
What greeted them was a gigantic, trident-shaped footprint. Like the gaping maw of an abyss, the enormous print stared back at them, exuding an overbearing air of danger.
"It's... Mosh. This is its footprint. I'd recognize that beast even if it were burned to ashes!" Hemet stared at the footprint with bloodshot eyes. A moment later, he wiped the corners of his eyes and knelt before Al.
Al hurriedly helped the old dwarf up. He cast a cleansing spell to clean the mud and grime off Hemet.
"Lord Al... please."
Tears filled Hemet's eyes, and he bowed solemnly to the boy.
"Don't worry. A friend's request is something I'm duty-bound to honor," Al said solemnly.
Friends... are we? How long has it been since I last heard that word? He really is dependable.
The old dwarf could no longer hold back the hot tears in his eyes, and they fell.