He Who Fights with Monsters 3

4

“As it turns out, though, I don’t actually need to breathe.”

“Do you need to chant spells?” Gilbert asked.

“That’s a fair point,” Jason acknowledged.

After putting everything away, dark smoke manifested around him briefly before vanishing to reveal Jason in one of his new outfits. Looking himself over in a full-length mirror, he adjusted his tie slightly.

“I may not be an impartial judge, Mr Asano, but I would say you look very dapper.”

To Jason’s eye it had more of a gothic flair, compared to a suit from his old world, with the patterned embroidery of the vest and the flourishes on the long jacket that swept in at the waist before reaching down to mid-thigh. He gave a little shuffle, finding his movement utterly unimpeded. The shoes looked formal and stylish but felt like athletic footwear.

“Superlative, Bert. You’re a credit to your profession.”

“Thank you, Mr Asano.”

“I have meeting with the Adventure Society, so I think I’ll wear it out.”

“Of course. Before you go, Mr Asano, you mentioned having something up your sleeve?”

“Right, yes.” Jason said. He wandered over to a table at the side of the room and retrieved a large bolt of dark material from his inventory. “I’ve been holding onto this for a while. What do you make of it, Bert?”

Bert moved next to Jason and ran his finger lightly over the material. It was dark, matte and cool to the touch.

“Snakeskin,” he said. “Umbral snake, probably the mountain variety. Strong affinities for darkness and poison. Bronze rank, and it’s infused with some kind of odd magic. It almost feels intrinsic, rather than externally imposed, but…” Gilbert frowned. “Was this a familiar?”

“It was,” Jason said. “Is that a problem?”

“In terms of the value of the material, just the opposite,” Gilbert said. “My concerns are ethical. You don’t get familiars without essence users.”

“You’re aware of the people running around causing trouble in the astral spaces?”

“Cultists or something,” Gilbert’s assistant said from where he stood to the side. “It’s almost all anyone wants to talk about, these days.”

“Yes,” Gilbert said, giving his assistant a nod. “The competition held by the gold-ranker distracted people for a while—congratulations again, by the way—but they’re back to all this unnerving talk. Strange forces from beyond reality and the madmen that worship them. It’s as unpleasantly disconcerting as it is monotonous. Fear isn’t a look that matches any outfit to be found in this store.”

“Fear is to be expected,” Jason said. “The threat is real and it falls to more powerful people than us to stop it. About half a year ago, however, I ran across one of those cultists and he tried to kill me. After he died, his familiar tried to kill me too.”

He patted the material.

“This is its skin.”

“Good riddance, then,” Gilbert said. “We should see if we can’t make something of it to help you deal with more of them.”

“If the familiar was bronze-rank,” Emil said, “then the cultist must have been, as well, right?”

“That’s right,” Jason said.

“You’re only iron-rank, though,” Emil said.

“Back then, I wasn’t even that. Didn’t even have my first essence.”

“Then how did you beat them?” Emil asked.

“I got lucky,” Jason said. “Things that attack me have this way of ending up dead.”

“Do go on, Emil,” Gilbert said, dismissing his assistant.

“Yes, boss. Uh, can I ask you something before I go, Mr Asano?”

“Emil,” Gilbert admonished.

“It’s fine,” Jason said. “Go ahead, Emil.”

“Did all those gods really appear to thank you in person?”

“Gods turning up is hardly a big deal,” Jason said. “Spend some time at the Divine Square; they pop up with fair regularity. And I’d hardly call it ‘all those gods’ when it was barely a half-dozen.”

“Out with you,” Gilbert said, shooing his assistant out of the fitting room.

“He’ll be telling that story all over, Mr Asano. You’ve built up quite the reputation with recent events. A local boy, beating out all those fancy foreign adventurers? Princes and princesses, no less.”

“I’m not exactly local,” Jason said. “In fact, I’m about as far from local as it comes.”

“You’re a local now,” Gilbert said with a laugh. “You’ve been co-opted. Nothing earns good will like success.”

“So, this material is something you can work with?”

“I certainly can. If you’re willing to leave it with me I can investigate the best options.”

“Good, because it was a pretty big snake,” Jason said, taking out a second bolt of the material.

“Oh, my,” Gilbert said. “There’s certainly enough for two sets of armour here, probably three. Possibly even four, depending on how we use it. Were you looking at spares, or do you want something for your agile lady friend as well? This material should be useful for something that would suit her.”

Sophie, like Jason, used highly flexible armour made from trap weaver leather. Gilbert only catered to the discerning gentleman, but had a lady friend of his own. On Gilbert’s recommendation they had taken the trap weaver leather to Brenda’s m******e Emporium, elsewhere in the trade hall.

“Sophie might want something that better combines flexibility and defence,” Jason said. “Stealth and poison doesn’t fit her power set.”

“Then would you like me to take the liberty of keeping an eye out for appropriate materials? I can have Brenda do the same.”

“That would be great,” Jason said. “For the whole team, in fact. How about l have them come in for a chat so you know what to look for?”

“A prescient idea, Mr Asano.”

Adventurers Are People Too

Jason rode the elevating platform up through the Adventure Society administration building, arriving on the fifth floor. There was a new reception desk, installed as part of the changes implemented by the inquiry team. Behind the desk was a familiar face.

“Bert,” Jason greeted him. “They’ve moved you upstairs. Is it the new essences?”

“It is,” Albert said. “Getting the full set is the way off the bottom rung in the Adventure Society. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Seems the higher-ups liked that I didn’t let them take Miss Sophie away when she was locked up in the prison tower.”

“Miss Sophie and myself both appreciate it as well,” Jason said. “It’s nice to see integrity being rewarded.”

“Is that one of the suits Gilbert was making for you?” Albert asked.

“It certainly is.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me saying, Mr Asano, you’re looking quite sharp.”

“Thank you,” Jason said. “We have a saying where I come from: the suit makes the man. In a characteristic display of Bertinelli family excellence, your brother has made quite the man of me.”

“Thank you for saying, Mr Asano. You can go ahead and wait in the conference room.”

“I know the way. Thanks, Bert.”

Jason went through to the conference room and sat down to wait. In the meantime, he pulled out a hefty tome of magical theory, opening to where he had marked his place with a ribbon and started reading. It wasn’t one of the new books Gabrielle had handed over, as they were too advanced, but a more foundational text he inherited from Farrah.

The books the goddess of Knowledge had delivered to him fell directly into Clive’s field of astral magic, all focused on one specific aspect: dimensional transgression. Portals, teleportation and even the basic theories of passing between worlds. Clive had almost exploded with surprise when he first perused the books to glean their purpose.

“I don’t know if this is enough to get you to your world or back,” Clive had excitedly told Jason, “but it gets us orders of magnitude closer.”

Clive had been spending every moment not training buried in the books. These books built on work he found amongst Landemere Vane’s notes, seized back from the church of Purity.

Jason closed the book and put it away as the door opened to admit Elspeth Arella and Tabitha Gert, the stern-faced leader of the inquiry team. He stood up to greet them; Arella shook her head upon seeing that Jason had been sitting at the head of the table.

“Arella,” he said with a nod. “Interim Director.”

“Actually,” Gert said, “Director Arella has resumed her full duties as the inquiry comes towards a close. You may address me by my regular rank of Inspector.”