Round Five: Blade Against Blade

“Is there a problem?” The wooden door creaked open. Forty-Seven peeked inside: “Is this customer dissatisfied with the result of your prophecy spell?”
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Moriel said sarcastically, glancing at Castor. “We just have a disagreement over the price of the item.”
“Oh.” Forty-Seven’s head spun around completely—seemingly a habit of his: “Sir, your attendant has fainted. It seems to be heatstroke.”
Castor lowered his hand, clenched a fist, then unclenched it.
“Moriel, I hope you’ll seriously consider my offer. A sword may be useful, but in the hands of a child, it will only lead to self-harm. You’re just a banished low-level Red Robe mage—there are several other mages in Rain City, aren’t there?”
He nodded slightly, turned, and walked out of the room. His fully armed guard lay on the ground, his chin tilted at an odd angle.
Castor paused, glanced back with hatred, then strode away.
“Why didn’t you agree to him?” Forty-Seven mused. “He seems wealthy. Maybe he can help me get some parts.”
“Shut up!” Moriel crossed her arms and stared in the direction Castor had gone. “Maybe I should find a new ally… Stop! Don’t touch that guy’s armor—he’s still alive. That’s illegal! Leave him there. Castor’s lackeys will come and carry him away… Hey, put down the sword! You metal idiot!”
“Let me think…” Moriel’s slender fingers tapped lightly on the table. Forty-Seven sat aside, idly spinning his head, wondering what to use as a lubricant.
“I should seek new allies to get out of this passive situation… Should I go see Bloodaxe? Although the warrior guild he leads is the largest among the local forces in Rain City, and Castor relies on him, that guy clearly lacks brains… And once Castor returns, he’ll surely speak ill of me to him. The Three Islands Merchant Guild…?” Moriel shook her head. Though she had little contact with them, just the thought was enough to deter her—the guild leader, marked by three islands, was also a mage.
Moriel had never intended to share her magical knowledge with outsiders. Ever since she realized her teacher’s goal in training her as a Red Robe mage was purely to use her as a ritual puppet to enhance his power and as an entertainment toy in his free time, she no longer trusted other mages.
Maybe she should go to the tavern first. It’s been a while since she’s been there.
Moriel decided to take Forty-Seven with her. It wasn’t a secret anyway, and showing off her strength in a place like Rain City usually brought more advantages than disadvantages.
Under the dimming night sky, the Red Robe mage and her attendant walking down the road attracted quite a few stares—of course, most people were looking at the metal humanoid wrapped in Gothic leather armor.

Next to the market was the Blade Tavern. Unlike the simple buildings in the market area, the Blade Tavern was on par in scale with the strongholds of various guilds. Most of its structure was actually made of stone—a rarity for a city on the edge of a swamp. There was no entrance on the first floor, which was protected by thick walls; one had to climb a ladder to reach the door on the second floor. A drawbridge could be raised at any time between the door and the ladder, and it seemed that only the upper three floors were open to guests, while the lower floors, perhaps including a basement, were tightly secured.

“Don’t be silly and embarrass me,” Moriel whispered to Forty-Seven. She seemed accustomed to seeing him not just as a mere magical construct. “The Blade Tavern has a history as long as Rain City itself, and most major transactions take place here. There are many tough guys coming and going… Conflict is not allowed here. Even someone like you, a construct, can’t fight off four opponents with just two fists. Understand?”

“You mean I can find new parts here?”

“That’s enough! Are you really stupid or are you trying to fool me?”

The wooden stairs were wide and sturdy, allowing Forty-Seven to step on them firmly. After whispering a few words to the mercenary guarding the door, Moriel led Forty-Seven inside the tavern.

The tavern was even bigger than expected and as lively as a market.

“Hey! Mage! Is this your treasure dug up in the swamp?” A crude voice shouted with laughter during the brief silence caused by the red-robed mage.

Forty-Seven looked in the direction of the voice. Although he lacked precise scanning devices, he could tell that the guy was clearly drunk, maybe even never sober.

“Oh, Billy. How long has it been since I last saw you? Months? I’m surprised you still have money to spend here.” Unexpectedly, the red-robed mage didn’t retort, or at least not explicitly. Instead, he walked over and sat down at the same table as Billy. The guy at the table wisely stepped back, holding the wine jug, but Forty-Seven examined the chair carefully before deciding to stay standing.

“Buy me a drink, how about that? This cheap stuff mixed with water isn’t to my taste at all!” Billy complained. His hands trembled uncontrollably due to alcohol poisoning, causing the wine in his cup to spill halfway through each drink.

Moriel snapped her fingers, and soon a half-orc bartender shuffled over with a new jug of wine on his short legs.

“Ha…” Billy’s hands stabilized instantly. He poured himself a full cup and drank it all in one gulp, his face showing an intoxicated expression.

“Alright, you’re not really drinking all day, are you? Tell me, what news is there these days?”

“News? Hehehe… Miss Mage, the biggest news is your big find in the swamp. I heard all the mages in Rain City are asking about you, oh, and this metal guy too…”

Damn it. I knew it. Moriel pressed her fingers against her temples. Perhaps she shouldn’t have brought the construct back so rashly, but if she hadn’t, he would likely have followed any other mage. At that thought, Moriel suddenly couldn’t suppress a notion she had deliberately ignored before: What was the last order this guy had received? To accept the next mage who came to the mage tower as his master? Or to choose any mage as his master? Mages were rarely this generous… Besides, that mage should already be ready to turn himself into a lich! Could it be… he hadn’t received any orders at all?
That’s impossible. The mage shook her head. No construct existed without orders. To receive their creator’s instructions and carry them out—such was the fate of all constructs. They were their creators’ arms and tools, whether they were foolish and could only understand simple words or ones like Forty-Seven with a certain degree of self-awareness. Even powerful diamond golems and legendary automata were no exception…
Moriel glanced back at Forty-Seven, who was staring intently at a fit female warrior.
Why is he so lecherous? Moriel was startled and didn’t even hear what Billy said. But then she realized Forty-Seven was merely coveting the whip dagger at the warrior’s waist. Was he created just to collect trash?
“Billy, what did you say?” Moriel turned her attention back.
“Uh, if it were anyone else, I’d definitely demand they pay again.” Billy lowered his voice. “There’s more news.”
“What is it?”
“The Blood Axe of the Warriors’ Guild is gathering almost all the senior warriors in the guild. Apparently, they’re also going on an expedition to the swamps… probably setting off soon. And it’s said that the Blood Axe will lead the expedition himself!”
“Hm?” Moriel raised her eyebrows. “Not many things can attract one of the strongest figures in Rain City… But you’d better have some information I can’t get elsewhere.”
“Miss Mage, things aren’t the same as before. Just your prophecy shop has taken away a lot of my business…” Billy took another big gulp of wine and slammed the glass down on the table, looking very frustrated.
“Huh? I remember you had a very nice ring… Where is it?” He suddenly grabbed the mage’s hand.
“Take your dirty hands off!” Moriel snapped back angrily. “No matter where it is, it will never belong to you! I think I’ve had enough of staying with you. Let’s go!”
“Stay outside and keep people out.” Moriel returned to the Stone of the Future and went inside alone.
Her lips trembled slightly as she uttered a few words before releasing her hand and opening the note that Old Billy had secretly given her.
Then her gaze became deep and focused.