Perhaps catching the doubt in Gauss's eyes, the dwarf Solin realized how his words sounded and waved both hands fast.
"Hey, hey! Dragon lad, what's that look for? I, Solin Shancopper, am a bona fide five-star adventurer—we only do legal work! I don't go in for any funny business!"
He rushed to explain.
Beside him, the mage Nancy sighed. "This isn't the place to chat. If you're interested, come find us later at the Silverflower Tavern on the north side of town. We're staying there for now."
"We'll be in Lincrown a few more days—no rush to move," Solin added, nodding quickly. "Yes, yes!"
"Alright."
Gauss watched the three turn away, Solin still bellowing something at Nancy, then glanced at Alia and Serandur.
"Ever heard of the Ironheart clan?" he asked. He'd heard the name in passing when they first came upstairs—the crowd had mentioned Solin's background.
"I've heard of them," Alia said, frowning in thought. "Ironheart is a famous line among the dwarves, rooted for generations inside a mountain called Smeltiron Peak. They're masters at forging with volcanic conditions and rare materials—their gear is 'priceless if you can find it.'"
"First time I've met one in the flesh," Gauss said. Solin and his companions had left a decent impression. It could've been an act, but if so, the acting was impeccable.
"They've got a solid name among smiths and adventurers," Serandur rasped. "I've been to markets on the dwarven borders—Ironheart rings loud. Good credit; at least publicly, no tales of betrayal."
He paused. "And Solin Shancopper—that surname isn't simple. Among dwarves, who prize lineage and metalwork, bearing a rare-ore name means his direct family is no small thing."
"Shancopper…"
Gauss recalled a book's description. Shancopper was a special magic metal—the color of molten gold, harder than steel once set, and highly mana-friendly, taking and amplifying enchantments beautifully. It was rarer than gold, found only deep in ancient veins. Similar treasures included blacksteel, adamant, mithril…
"A dwarf with a name like that is nearly the same as a noble in human society—family honor and credit matter more than life."
"Got it."
Gauss nodded; some of his wariness ebbed. "Then let's make time to visit the Silverflower Tavern and hear the details."
Whether to accept would depend on what they learned.
They left the Guild. At the door, Gauss scanned the crowd again. No prickling "eyes on the back" this time; he raised a brow, then led Alia and Serandur back toward the inn.
It was near noon by the time Andeni returned from the meeting, striding like she owned the hall. She opened Gauss's door; the three were gathered around a small table with a rough map of Lincrown and notes spread out.
She dropped her hood, hopped onto a free chair, and snagged a washed piece of fruit from the table, taking a bite.
"How'd it go, Master Andeni?" Gauss handed her a glass of water.
"Officials bickering," Andeni yawned. "But two things are basically confirmed. One: the monster unrest wasn't aimed only at Outpost 11—several other outposts were hit. Two: the provincial capital will send support. You three—be extra careful around here for a while."
She stretched. "Right."
"Oh—Gauss. I may leave tomorrow," she said suddenly.
"Tomorrow? Something urgent?" Gauss blinked. She'd said she was between things.
"No helping it—I took a contract," Andeni shook her head. "Sorry—can't share the details." She tried to look put upon—but the quirk at the corner of her mouth gave away the generous price tag. Retirement didn't mean a full stop; for the right pay, the halfling mage still took the field—call it padding the pension.
"No problem—take care of your business," Gauss said, understanding. Their meeting had been a chance; the shelter she'd given them was already lucky. You couldn't expect someone to play nursemaid.
She looked the trio over. Apart from Gauss, she hadn't spent long with Alia and Serandur, but they'd fought at the outpost together—she couldn't help feeling responsible. She rummaged in her pouch, then tossed each of them a small charm on a silver chain.
"Here," she said airily. "Parting gifts. One-use short-range teleport charms—crush to trigger a protective field, then get tossed somewhere random within a few hundred meters. Cheap trinkets, but they'll do."
"This…" Gauss hesitated. "Isn't that a bit much?"
It sounded anything but cheap—far more convenient than scrolls that ate spell slots and concentration: just crush and go, with a shield to boot.
"Take them," Andeni said, brooking no argument. "Next time we meet, I expect you alive."
"Thank you, Master," Gauss said, tucking the charm away. "Thanks, Master," Alia and Serandur echoed.
"Nothing to it."
While she was still there, Gauss asked about Solin as well—strange invite included. "You can go this afternoon and hear him out. Dwarves are usually reliable. If you're unsure, come back and talk—I leave in the morning."
She lingered a bit longer, covering a few travel cautions. "That's it for the lecture." She hopped down and waved. "I'll pack."
When her small figure vanished down the hall, Gauss turned back to his companions. "Let's prepare. We'll go see what the Silverflower business is."
After lunch, afternoon crept up. With directions from locals, they came to a quiet building and stepped in.
The tavern was calm and tasteful. After giving Solin's name, a server led them to a secluded booth the dwarf's team had reserved. Solin sat there; despite the daylight the table held several empty jugs—he'd already had a round. Cheeks flushed, eyes clear—not much drunk. Dwarves, after all—spirits as water.
Seeing them, Solin sprang up, voice booming. "Ha! Dragon lad! You came—sit, sit!"
"Miss—drinks for my friends! Best fruit wine, best beer—on my tab!"
His words were crisp despite the color. Maybe a bit friendlier than usual with a little in him.
"Skip the booze, Solin—business first," Gauss waved the server off and sat with his team.
"Haha, fair enough—business!" Solin didn't push. He glanced at Nancy. She lifted slender, pale fingers and tapped the air; a soft syllable slipped out. A faintly shimmering, diamond-shaped veil appeared—sound-tight around the booth.
"Good. Now we can talk," Solin said, settling back and sobering a touch. "Dragon la—Gauss, and you two…?"
"Alia, Serandur," Gauss said.
"Straight to it, then." Solin nudged his cups aside and tapped the tabletop with a thick finger. "The 'big job' I want to invite you on is a ruin delve."
"A ruin?" Gauss echoed. That was a lot more legitimate than he'd feared.
"Aye." Solin lowered his voice by habit. "A site marked in Ironheart records—somewhere in the Jade Forest. Monsters camped it for ages, so we've never had a chance. But with the outpost incident and the upheaval inside the forest, dens have shifted."
Nancy added, "More precisely, it may be a forge complex tied to a lost arm of the ancient dwarven kingdom—possibly holding unique forging lore and finished weapons."
"Dwarves—in the forest?" Gauss asked, weighing the truth of it. Dwarves lived in mountains and mines; forests felt off.
"That was long, long ago. Our ancestors' steps were across the whole continent. Seeking rare ore and earth-fire, they set up workshops where you wouldn't expect. Back then this wasn't forest at all."
Gauss glanced at Alia; she nodded slightly.
"Well? Interested?" Solin leaned forward, eyes bright with that bone-deep dwarven passion for steel and treasure. "Think of it, Gauss—a forgotten dwarven shop, gods know how old. Lost techniques sealed away. Even if not—finished pieces, shancopper ingots, strange alloys—fortune. And you'll have the friendship of the Shancopper family of Ironheart—discounts when you visit for a custom build, eh?"
Gauss didn't answer at once. He drummed his fingers and weighed the scales. Risk and reward were plain. As for strength—five-stars or not, if he cut loose… but they didn't know that.
"Why us?" he asked bluntly. "You're a five-star team. You don't need low-tiers to explore a mapped site."
He wouldn't relax without an answer.
"Good question." Solin nodded, unoffended. "First, it's old. Inside is unknown—we'll need to handle surprises. You're a caster who can also brawl—that kind of flexibility is gold in an unknown. Second, it's not near. We'll meet all sorts of monsters getting there. We're three; we want to be thorough. Your power isn't your badge number—we saw you that night. Too much modesty is a vice."
"Last—we trust your character," he said, face going serious. "On the wall, you took the lead to shepherd the weaker ones out—not something every adventurer does. I'm not hiring someone strong who'll knife me in the back. And I'm not short on coin. I want the elders' lost craft."
He tapped his temple. "I don't misread people often. You three—I can rely on."
Gauss nodded. "Understood. We'll talk it over."
He felt Solin's sincerity—but he'd still consult his team. They switched to Message; Solin and his duo didn't intrude. After a while, Gauss looked up again, expression set. "We'll need a more detailed plan."
"Haha—good." Solin's laugh was easy. Nancy produced a map and spread it on the table. "It's old—terrain may have shifted…"
They laid out the route, likely monsters, prep needed—and, crucially, the split. Forging lore would be Solin's team's by right; everything else fifty-fifty. Solin wanted the technique most; the rest was gravy. For Gauss's team, it was generous.
Nancy flicked her fingers; the sound-ward dissolved, and the tavern's murmur flowed back in. "We need a few days for our channels to confirm monster movements in the forest. Once the window is right, we'll notify you."
"Alright," Gauss said, more aware than ever that this trio wasn't simple.
With the deal struck, Solin, buoyant, clambered onto his seat, threw an arm over Gauss's shoulder, and demanded drinks; this time Gauss didn't refuse. After a few sips, he rose, said his goodbyes, and left the Silverflower.
Watching the three disappear down the road, the quiet cleric Elton drew back his gaze and looked to Solin, puzzled. He didn't speak; his voice carried mind-to-mind. "Is he really as strong as you say?"
"Mm." Solin patted the back of his head—where a small ridge rose. "Don't underestimate my 'second brain.' After that close pass, it told me there's something terrifying sleeping in him."
Nancy nodded mildly, mind-voice flicking. "Let's hope it goes smoothly. My little birds already spotted several large tribes moving in the forest. Word is a Zevier scion had an 'incident' at Outpost 11—the unrest will only grow."
"We need to clear that contamination the prophecy pointed to—quickly," she added, sober.
"Prophecy—does that thing still mean anything? You predict, I predict your prediction—this world's a mess already," Solin grumbled, puffing his beard.
"Which is why they send small, unremarkable pieces like us," Nancy smiled faintly. "A butterfly flaps over the Roni Coast; a storm breaks on the far East Continent. The smallest hinge, at the right moment, can budge fate's lever—that's our chance. And we each have our specialties. I didn't veto your call, did I?"
Elton traced a quiet sign over his chest. "May the Light guide our steps, and spare us needless strife. I only hope we can bring a measure of peace."
~~~
More on Patreon and also you can get 20% for the first month of joining! Thank you for reading and joining if you did!
Patreon.com/NotEvenMyFinalForm
— 100 More Chapters in the Patreon Page!