"Sigh... they're so unorganized." Kayda shook her head, but she didn't look away. She was studying everything, her eyes trained on the flaws that others would miss.
"I guess the mock battle is doing its work. At least it's pointing out the flaws." I lifted my gaze briefly to the opposing side.
"Mm. But the opposing side is becoming overly confident. Kayda gestured with her chin toward the enemy leader, who lounged in a chair as if he were in a tavern instead of overseeing a training exercise. His posture screamed arrogance-an arm draped carelessly, a leg crossed, a faint smirk on his lips.
"Well, it is twenty-three against seven," I said with a shrug. "From his perspective, this is nothing but a waste of time."
"It is a waste of time," a deep voice said from behind us, startling me enough that my ears twitched.
I turned and blinked up at the man approaching. "And you are?"
He was... big. A whole head taller than me, wide shoulders filling his black suit as though the fabric had been stitched directly onto muscle. His head was large and square, his short black hair trimmed neatly, and his face hard like chiseled stone. No visible weapons, but I could feel the hidden steel on him. Stacy's fingerprints were all over his type-the kind that looked simple but killed before you ever noticed your mistake.
"Good morning, Miss Kayda. Lady Kitsuna. My name is Special Major Tony Sanderson. Nice to meet you." He extended his hand politely toward me.
"Oh, a special major, huh?" I reached up and gripped his hand firmly. "So they're your squad? And don't call me 'lady' again."
"Will do, miss," Tony said smoothly, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.
"Tony," Kayda spoke then, her tone sharpening slightly. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, you're the acting head general, aren't you? Who else am I supposed to bring reports to?" His head tilted, his smirk subtle but pointed.
Kayda ignored the jab. "Did you find anything new?"
"No, ma'am. I only found that the dust from the corpses is composed of black organic matter. Tony's face tightened just slightly as he spoke, but his delivery remained professional.
Both Kayda and I sighed almost in unison.
"Black organic matter? That doesn't give us shit," I muttered, clicking my tongue in frustration.
"Has the forest calmed down?" Kayda asked next, rubbing her forehead.
"Somewhat, ma'am. Just the usual-territorial wars between monster clans. Thirty-five towns were destroyed." Tony glanced down at the small folded paper he was carrying, as if to double-check the number.
"Sheesh. Thirty-five..." I muttered under my breath. The number was staggering, even for monsters.
"And the new monster in the forest?" Kayda asked, her voice calm but edged.
"We tracked it to a cave dungeon. It hasn't moved since arriving."
"So it's not a danger?" I asked, one brow arching skeptically.
"Not at the moment, ma'am." Tony gave a crisp nod.
"Good. Tell all the special agents to observe from a distance. If anything above the allowed strength shows up, neutralize it." Kayda's tone brooked no argument.
"Will do, ma'am."
"Oh, but do you know what kind of monster it is?" I asked, tilting my head, softening my voice like butter wouldn't melt on my tongue.
"Not yet."
"And it'll stay that way until the thing makes a move," Kayda added firmly. Both Tony and I nodded in agreement. No need to waste lives chasing shadows.
Tony shuffled slightly, then said, "One other thing, ma'am. We found the blacksmith."
"Oh?" Kayda's brow lifted. "And who is he?"
"We don't know much personally. But his family has lived in the city for forty-five years." He handed her a slip of paper.
"That long..." Kayda hummed. "Is this a Federation long game?"
"I doubt it, ma'am. I think he was desperate."
"Why?" I asked, curiosity sparking.
"Blacksmiths have struggled recently. Business was poor before the influx of adventurers. I suspect he was just... cornered."
I nodded slowly. "So this was before all the adventurers arrived."
"Yes."
"But aren't adventurers barred from entering the forest?" I asked, frowning.
"They are, unless proper procedure is followed-like when your group went in. Authorization from the quest giver or direct approval from leadership is required. Tony explained smoothly, his words almost mechanical.
Kayda accepted the paper and gave a curt nod. "Thank you, Tony. If there's anything else, bring it to me."
"Will do, ma'am."
"Oh, and put all of this in writing. I'll consolidate it for the supreme general."
Tony groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sigh... will do, ma'am." He turned and walked away, shoulders stiff.
I smirked the moment he was out of earshot. "I love it when you get so serious about your job. It's quite hot."
Kayda jerked slightly, her cheeks going pink. "W-what?"
"Hehe, you're adorable, you know that." I slipped my arms around her waist from behind, grinning against her neck.
"Kitsu, not now," she hissed, trying to pry me off.
"Winners are the elite!" a voice bellowed across the field.
I looked over just as the match ended. "Oh, they lost. Not surprised."
"Well, at least they took out half of them. Better than the first time."
"First time?"
"They only took out two."
"Wow. So, from two to eleven? People might call that improvement, but the elites didn't even take the difference seriously." I wrinkled my nose. "Dumb name, too."
"Yes, and they know that," Kayda said, narrowing her eyes at me. "So don't push them."
"I wasn't planning on talking to them anyway," I said with a lazy wave.
"Sigh. You really don't understand tough love," Kayda muttered.
"Probably not. Anyways, you want to go see that blacksmith?"
"Not today. I'm too well-known. You go alone. Tomorrow we'll go together." She passed me the paper Tony had given her.
"... Are you sure you want me doing the work alone?"
"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to have something besides training?" She smirked knowingly.
"I actually like training," I admitted, scratching my cheek.
"You're already in the final stages of invisible mana. The forest fights helped, didn't they?"
I sighed mentally. I can cut through Adamite now, though it burns too much mana. I'll need to see Steve soon and finish that challenge.'
Kayda poked my shoulder. "So go explore this smith's shop."
"Alright, alright. Good luck with the depressed kids," I teased, nodding toward the squad dragging themselves toward her.
"Thanks," she muttered, bracing herself for the headache.
I glanced at the paper again. "Grumpy Shaman? What the hell, Tony? That name's a joke." Shoving it into storage, I shook my head.
[45 minutes later]
"Grumpy Shaman. Seriously, what an absurd name," I muttered for the tenth time as I walked through the slums.
The directions took me further into the poorer districts, where the air was filled with the smell of smoke and damp earth, and half of the buildings leaned as if they were too worn out to stand straight.
For effect, I shifted into a tiger demi-human with dark green fur. My tail swayed lazily, my ears twitching. Better to stand out-intimidation and allure in one package. A rare race, a rare sight. Most would stare but not approach. Especially here.
Weapons hung on my waist, each one deliberately visible.
"I know what Tony said about desperation," I muttered, "but that can't be the whole story."
"Hello, oh fine lady," a slurred voice called. "What brings you to the slums?"
I turned my head slowly, locking eyes with the man. He froze mid-step, legs trembling as though his instincts screamed at him to run.
"Y-Yes?" he stammered.
"Tell me where the Grumpy Shaman smithy is." I tapped the hilt of my katana.
"R-right there, ma'am." He pointed shakily toward a broad, soot-stained building at the end of the street.
"Good. Next time, don't approach armed people so casually." I tapped his neck lightly, sending him crumpling unconscious to the ground.
My eyes narrowed at the building. Smoke poured steadily from the chimney. The rhythmic clang of a hammer striking metal echoed even from this distance. Definitely the place.
Thing!
"Oh, a customer this early?" A woman's cheerful voice greeted me as I stepped inside. Her smile faltered when her eyes scanned me, narrowing suspiciously.
'Hmph. I guess I'm overdressed for the occasion, I thought, noticing her rags-like most here in the slums.
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Chapter 163: Miss Pendragon has Arrived
"Good morning. Is Grumpy Shaman here?" I asked politely, keeping my tone light, almost cheerful, though my eyes never softened.
"Depends on who is asking." The receptionist, a woman who looked more worn down than the counter she sat behind, narrowed her eyes at me. Her voice was sharp and defensive-like a cornered rat baring teeth.
I didn't answer right away. I simply stared. My gaze tightened, one eye narrowing with that slow weight I knew carried more force than words. Her bravado faltered almost instantly.
"I don't know if he is-"
"Woman," I interrupted coldly, taking one deliberate step forward, "that was a yes or no question." My eyes didn't leave hers, and she visibly trembled.
'I just want to know whether it's his real name or not,' I thought with a faint curl of amusement tugging at my lips. 'How hard is that?'
"B-Boss!" The woman suddenly shouted, turned on her heel, and hurried toward the back like a rabbit fleeing into its hole.
I let out a long, drawn-out sigh and muttered under my breath. "Ugh, this is why I hate the slums so much. Everyone reacts to my eyes like I'm about to gut them."
I glanced around while waiting, letting my gaze wander across the interior. My lips pressed into a thin line.
"...It's exactly like Steve Smith's," I whispered to myself. "And I mean exactly. Same layout, same placement of shelves, the size of the room, even where the doors are. Reception desk, everything." I could've closed my eyes and navigated it like I was back in Steve's smithy. That... was unsettling.
The sound of heavy boots thudded against the wooden floor.
"Who dares?!" A voice bellowed.
A dwarf stomped out from the same back door the receptionist had fled through, hammer clutched in his hand. His beard was soot-stained, his eyes bloodshot, and he carried the kind of energy that screamed temperamental drunk uncle.
"Oh, Mister Grumpy, you are here," I said casually, as if we were long-lost friends catching up. My hand drifted lazily to the table beside me, picking up a small dagger that rested there.
"And who are you?" The dwarf demanded, gripping his hammer so tightly his knuckles turned pale beneath the grime.
"Oh, I wonder who I might be? Your mother?" My tone snapped suddenly, my words cracking like a whip. "Who the fuck do you think I am, you stupid dwarf?" I snarled, hurling the dagger at his feet. Lightning crackled across the blade on impact, sparks leaping up the floorboards.
The dwarf froze.
'I wonder if my tactic will work,' I thought, suppressing a grin as I watched his eyes widen, his brain stumbling over itself.
Then, like flipping a switch, his entire demeanor collapsed.
"This-I am terribly sorry, Lady Pendragon!" He blurted, his voice trembling. He dropped to his knees with a thud and smashed his forehead into the floor so hard the wood cracked beneath him. "I have sinned by not recognizing you! Forgive me, Lady Pendragon!"
I blinked once, taken aback.
'Pendragon? Another reincarnation? Or just some idiot's half-memory of a story?' I thought. Either way, he even said it wrong. Unoriginal fool.'
"Pendragon, you fool." I let magic lace my voice, just enough to make the air around me hum faintly.
"I am sorry, I have sinned again!" The dwarf's forehead smacked the floor a second time, louder, leaving a fresh crack.
"Whatever. Make sure you get it right next time." I huffed and flicked my hair back, as if I were dismissing him from my royal presence.
"Yes, ma'am. Ma'am, might I know where your bodyguards are?" He asked carefully, his eyes darting around the room as though expecting hidden soldiers to emerge.
I leaned down slightly, sneering. "Sigh... do I, Lady Pendragon, need something like a bodyguard?"
"I know ma'am is a commander in the mighty Federation army, but"-his words dripped venom-"the Draig territory crawls with those disgusting black ops soldiers."
I rolled my eyes. "Let's stop with the nonsense and get to business."
"Yes, ma'am." He straightened up, still kneeling, but his hammer was now lowered in obedience.
"Now, tell me what you've been selling me." My voice sharpened, but I kept my posture lazy, letting the arrogance drip off me like perfume.
"I don't quite understand what ma'am means by that," the dwarf said, feigning confusion.
"...Right. Blacksmiths really are dumb." I gave him a long, pointed look. "You already know we're the reason the Dead Forest is so stirred up, don't you?"
"Uh... yes?"
"Well, our operation has failed." I tilted my head, glaring at him as though it were entirely his fault.
"What?! I-I am sorry, ma'am! I only made the armor stronger and faster!" His voice broke, and his head dropped again in shame.
"That is true," I admitted grudgingly.
His eyes flicked up cautiously. "Ma'am, this might sound arrogant, but... will ma'am still require the big sets of armor?"
I hummed thoughtfully, letting silence stretch, watching him squirm.
"Sorry, ma'am!" He panicked again, slamming his forehead against the ground. Blood spotted the wood this time.
"They might come in useful," I finally said. "Show me the way, then."
"Yes, ma'am."
'I hate acting as someone else,' I thought sourly as I followed him through a set of double doors. 'At least I'm alone... well, mostly alone.'
"They're right behind these doors," the dwarf announced, pushing them open.
My breath caught.
Two massive suits of armor stood gleaming in the dim light.
'What the fuck... They're completely made of Adamite?' My eyes narrowed, trying to process the sight.
"When did you finish them?" I asked smoothly, masking my shock.
"Both of these armors are made entirely of Adamite," the dwarf explained with pride. "Each has artifacts embedded within to boost defenses. Despite their size, they're lighter than standard steel."
I stepped closer, fingers brushing the cold, shimmering surface. "It worries me, knowing you've used so much Adamite. People will start asking questions."
"Do not worry, ma'am. I have used my contacts to acquire every scrap without raising alarms." He puffed out his chest smugly.
