Chapter 38: The Tree Ghost

The old man, laughing so hard he wiped tears from his eyes, delivered the final blow.

“You lot aren’t even worth comparing. Yours are full of wounds—below minimum price. This kid’s prey is top-grade with only minimal damage. Before you complain about low appraisals, you should work on your skills.”

Saying that, he erased the “recipient” line on the appraisal sheet the Submaster had given him and told me to hand over my guild card.

Around us, onlookers pretended to console the men who were staring blankly at my catch, but were really just mocking them.

“Wow, what a difference in skill—better practice more!”
“You picked the wrong target, got perfectly put in your place.”
“That was entertaining—thanks for the show.”
“You’d better leave Zandra fast before everyone uses you as errand boys.”
“It’s already too late, but cheer up, yeah?”
“Just so you know—solo adventurers are only solo because they’re skilled enough to manage it. Thinking they’re weak is plain stupid.”

Since I still had more to show, I asked them to wait for the next appraisal and brought both my guild card and their appraisal slip to the payment counter.

As I passed by the group of spectators heading back to the dining hall, I called out:

“These drinks are on our overconfident friends here! I’m leaving all the money with the tavern master—drink till it’s gone!”

Then I handed the full payment over to the barkeep.

“Hey, big spender!”
“Small frame, but guts of steel!”
“I like you—join our party!”
“No way, he’s too good for your party—we’ll take him!”
“Nah, he said he’s solo. Looks like he doesn’t need anyone.”

When I returned to the butchering area from the festival-like tavern, the fools looked like they were about to cry, having heard my little announcement.

The laughing butchers were teary-eyed from laughter as I told them I still had some birds and started laying them out:

• Chikki-Chikki Birds: 13
• Runner Birds: 15
• Green Birds: 11
• Red Chickens: 14
• High Orcs: 2
• Orcs: 7 (3 + 4 more)
• Rush Wolves: 9 (5 + 4 more)
• Black Wolves: 10 (7 + 3 more)
• Horn Boars (medium): 2
• Big Elk: 1

“That’s about it for now.”

“Where on earth did you hunt all that?”

“Between Kreis and Zandra. I strayed off the road and walked near the forest. Sometimes even went inside.”

“That explains the numbers… impressive skill.”

I told them I’d be drinking in the tavern and left my guild card with them for the full appraisal.

Later, the grinning old man brought me the results, asking me,

“We’ll take as many birds as you can bring—just keep delivering them.”

The total on the appraisal sheet was 3,474,000 dara.
Satisfied, I decided to have a new outfit tailored in Zandra.

The hotel the guild recommended was an older but well-built inn favored by high-ranking adventurers.
I placed two silver coins on the counter, said I’d be staying for a while, and asked to be introduced to a tailor for a custom outfit.

When the clerk warned, “It’ll be expensive,” I pulled out a handful of gold coins from my pouch, and they immediately replied that a tailor would be called for the next day.
Apparently, anything above off-the-rack clothing required summoning a tailor to choose fabrics and measurements.

I realized I’d forgotten to wear the new ready-made clothes I’d bought—walking into the guild in simple traveling wear was just asking for trouble.
Next time, I’ll check into a hotel first, change, and then run errands.

The next day before noon, the tailor arrived—bringing a wide selection of fabric samples for measurements and consultation in the hotel’s business room.

I explained:

“I’d like clothes that look like something a lower noble might’ve splurged to have made—respectable enough not to be looked down on in the Merchant Guild or by magic-item traders.”

I also requested neutral colors that would blend naturally in a city setting.

“You seem quite successful for someone so young. We often serve high-ranking clients and can also craft excellent adventurer outfits—sturdy, water-repellent, and very popular. Even in rain, you’ll need no tarp or cloak if you pull the hood up.”

The tailor rubbed his hands together eagerly as he showed me a moss-green fabric that looked durable enough to last years. I almost blurted, “That must be expensive!”

I had about 10 million dara on hand, but decided to restrain myself until I had one outfit made first.

After taking my measurements and confirming the material, he quoted an estimate of 2,100,000 dara—half upfront.

Surprisingly cheap, though I guess I’d been desensitized to prices in this world.

“How much for a full adventurer outfit?”

“Including jacket, trousers, gloves, and hat—about 2,600,000 dara. Boots would need to be ordered separately at a leather shop, though your current pair seems top-grade enough.”

“Then make me a full adventurer’s set as well.”

That wiped out half my funds again—but better to buy now than regret it later in a downpour.

I paid the smiling tailor 2,350,000 dara as a deposit; the fitting was scheduled for a week later.

“Your Grace, from the interrogation of the captured Warrens Trading Company manager: the women found in the hidden basement room were apparently brought in as collateral for debts from smaller merchants. The manager claims he handed them over to the company president, saying he doesn’t know what became of them afterward. In the last five years, he’s delivered about four women.”

“What about around Marquis Flemming?”

“He maintains a villa in the city of Korche, the ducal capital. It seems the Warrens president meets him there. Our investigations suggest no one enters except carefully chosen servants—perhaps several dozen residents total. The main estate is quiet, and servants there report that the president of Warrens rarely visits. He mainly resides in the royal capital, so that aligns.”

“If Warrens is taking women to that villa, exposure would be disastrous.”

“Security is likely tight, and since it’s another noble’s territory, we can’t intervene.”

“Sir, a report just came in—the duke of Berant’s entire territory has had every Warrens branch sealed by the guards. All employees are under house arrest, and we’ve lost contact.”

“No word yet from Marquis Flemming?”

“None at all. It seems the wind mage has already left Kreis.”

“Wind mage?”

“Yes, according to adventurers in Kreis who witnessed—”

“I don’t care about that right now! Get in touch with Marquis Flemming immediately!”

Trouble in Kreis had spread—branches in Verant, Adele, and Heliant within Duke Berant’s lands were all seized.

Even if he wanted to confer with Flemming, the marquis was in Korche, while he himself was stuck in the royal capital.
Traveling would mean passing through the duke’s lands—and likely being arrested himself.

The lack of contact from Lord Flemming was unsettling—perhaps he intended to cut ties and abandon me.

What should I do? What can I do?

The plan that had been going so smoothly until now seemed to have begun unraveling little by little since that incident.

Should I prepare to run, just in case… or—

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“Nilbert, can we use that man to investigate the suspicious villa?”

“That man?”

“The mage who single-handedly stormed the Warrens Trading Company. He seems to have some courage—perhaps he could infiltrate the villa in Corshe.”

“Your Grace, that would be impossible.”

“Why?”

“Even if it’s called a villa, it wouldn’t be built in a place where commoners or vagrant adventurers could easily approach. If they’ve carefully selected their servants, then there are surely skilled guards hidden inside as well.”

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“Marginus, what’s the status of Warrens?”

“He hasn’t stepped foot outside his mansion. A few servants have been seen meeting adventurers or visiting Marquis Flemming’s residence in the noble district, but there’s been no further movement.”

“And Duke Berant?”

“We’ve lost all reports from him. Since it’s another territory, it seems we have no means of intervention.”

“There’s no helping it then. Even if we lack decisive proof from Duke Berant’s investigation, we must report to His Majesty and determine our next course.”

It was likely a case of collusion between a powerful merchant and a noble.

Even if they captured only the president of the Warrens Trading Company, without solid evidence, Marquis Flemming would erase all traces and feign ignorance.

If they allowed him to escape, the royal house and the kingdom would be mocked as powerless.

In the Kingdom of Sutherland, even a high-ranking noble would face severe punishment for defying the law. Upholding justice would preserve the royal family’s honor.

＊　＊　＊　＊　＊　＊　＊

I picked up my new clothes, paid the remaining 2,350,000 dara, and tucked my citywear into my magic pouch before leaving the hotel.

The tailored adventurer outfit fit perfectly, and I was extremely satisfied—but since it was brand new, I decided to go outside the city and get it a bit dirty.

Lately, I’d been training nearby on the plains, mostly practicing “Tree Ghost” concealment alongside detection and presence sensing. This time, I exited through the west gate and headed toward the southern forest.

A small whirlwind floated about a meter ahead and slightly above me, serving as a makeshift fan, but even then, sweat still ran down my face.

According to the tailor, A-rank—or so-called “Platinum Rank”—adventurers often wore magically enchanted clothing.
Such garments were commissioned through the Commercial Guild and crafted by tailors who worked exclusively with nobles and wealthy merchants—well beyond the reach of ordinary adventurers.

When I asked about these enchantments, the tailor said,

“They’re extraordinarily resistant to magic and monster attacks,”

But admitted that he didn’t know much beyond that.

He did emphasize, however,

“Since it’s ordered through the Commercial Guild, the price is sure to make your eyes pop out.”

I kept practicing Tree-Ghost while walking through the grasslands, using detection and presence sensing to sneak up on a Horn Rabbit hiding in the brush—planning to skewer it cleanly with my short spear.

Or so I thought—but it kept escaping just before I struck.

Apparently, the moment I repositioned my spear, the concealment effect of Tree-Ghost would break, giving away my presence.

I pondered what I was doing wrong as I made my way toward the forest, pushing aside creeping vines along the ground—then it hit me.

Out in the forest or on the plains, my short spear doubled as a brush clearer—I was constantly using it to sweep aside obstacles as I walked.

When hunting, it was the same; before, when I hunted with wind magic, I’d cast from a distance, so the spear didn’t matter.

But when trying to stab a Horn Rabbit or Hedgehog up close, I had to lower my spear and point its tip right at the prey.

Of course, the moment the prey sees the spearhead aimed straight at it from close range, it bolts—long before concealment even matters.