Chapter 1998: And?

"Has he caused trouble?"

"Not... exactly."

"Then he can wait. These supply wagons can’t."

Zorvanna returned to the report, reclining along the broad couch with one powerful leg stretched over its cushions. Her long black hair fell across her bare arm as she turned the page.

"Your Majesty. Please."

The page stopped halfway over.

"He’s registered as an adventurer," the younger woman persisted. "And what we’ve heard since... I’d feel much better if you let me explain."

"We have a Guild for that. Unless you think I should start interviewing every newcomer myself?"

"I’m asking you to hear about this one."

Zorvanna studied her over the report. The assistant held her gaze, though her pink tail had curled tightly around the leg of her chair.

"My, Lysara, you really aren’t letting this go."

"No, Your Majesty."

With a sigh, the queen let the papers rest against her thigh. Heavy horns swept back from her temples, and crimson scales framed the gold eyes now giving her assistant their full attention.

"You don’t usually press me over some random adventurer. Alright. What do we know about him?"

"That’s the problem. Nothing."

Zorvanna looked at the papers in her arms.

The younger woman flushed beneath her pink scales.

"About where he came from. Who he is. Anything we could verify. A merchant captain naga called Narethi encountered him at sea after her ship was attacked. He helped her crew and came here on her recommendation."

"A powerful warrior, working to clear up our lands and seas. How troubling."

"He claims to have carried his entire party across the ocean by magic."

That earned a slight lift of the queen’s brow.

"The merchant captain vouched for him at the harbour. He refused to remove his helmet and was quite prepared to leave when the guards insisted. Captain Veshara accepted the guarantee."

"Veshara let him keep it on?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The copper-scaled woman who’d watched Quinlan with such interest at the gangplank commanded one of Sarthal’s harbour guard companies. At her name, Zorvanna’s mouth curved.

"Then she must have found him interesting. Okay. And?"

Lysara checked the next page of her report.

"Since then, he’s registered an adventuring team with his wives. There are at least a dozen women travelling with him, Your Majesty."

"A highly active man. Or a gaudy one. And?"

Lysara looked up from the page. Zorvanna waited comfortably against the cushions, watching her.

"Their first commission concerned an expedition lost beneath the southern hills. They returned with survivors and a treatment for the condition that had defeated the local healers. The nest itself is buried beneath collapsed ruins."

Zorvanna set the border report beside her and shifted deeper into the couch.

"Okay. And?"

This time, Lysara stayed silent. The queen turned a palm toward her, inviting her to continue.

"We have their account. We have the rescued people. But whatever happened down there, the evidence is under a mountain of rubble. We can’t establish how a newly registered party managed it."

"A warrior can decide to register at the Guild after becoming strong. He doesn’t need to start from level one. I fail to see your point."

"...Please give me some time to explain."

"I already am."

"...Which brings me to his bodyguards."

The assistant laid another sheet on the table, smoothing it more firmly than necessary.

"The women introduced as his guards have registered separately. They’re already completing contracts at a pace the Guild has never seen from rookies, be they low or high level. They collect their payment, ask about stronger monsters, and go straight back out."

"Okay, a-"

"And they ask about the monsters before the reward," Lysara cut in.

Zorvanna’s smile widened. Across the table, Lysara kept her finger on the next line of her report and continued before the queen could speak.

"Their estimated levels aren’t anything exceptional. But the accounts of how they fight... They’re extraordinarily practiced for their level. It’s as if they spent centuries practicing combat without gaining experience points. Furthermore, even when a contract is finished, they want to know where they can find more. They fight as though..."

She swallowed, looking up from the papers to find the queen watching her.

"As though gaining levels is everything."

"..." Zorvanna stared at the pink draconid. Then...

"Ahahaha!" She burst into hearty laughter.

The sound carried through the open balcony doors. Her assistant sat rigidly through it, her cheeks growing warmer.

"And?"

Lysara shut her eyes.

"Your Majesty, please stop saying that."

"Then give me something to worry about. What would you prefer they aspire to? A weaker opponent and a comfortable retirement? Seeking out XP is the most natural thing an aspiring warrior can do."

"I would prefer to understand why they’re so desperate. There’s something wrong with it. They behave as though they’ve been starving."

"Then Sarthal has plenty to feed them."

The queen tapped the missing-wagon report beside her.

"I’d much rather have them clearing our roads and seas of filth than pull more warriors away from the border. Let the Guild give them work. We need people who want it."

Lysara wasn’t ready to give up just yet. "And Adventurer Black himself? He claims to be a noble from distant lands, but won’t name them. He refuses to tell us anything useful about himself."

"Why would he? Information is power. What have we offered the man to make him talk?"

"Your Majesty..."

"You may dislike his answer, but he’s still allowed to keep his secrets so long as they don’t endanger Sarthal. That’s how our nation has always operated, and will continue doing so."

"Is there anything about this man you don’t approve of?"

Zorvanna observed Lysara with amusement evident in her eyes. "You seem determined to find something."

"..." Her assistant drew the last sheet from beneath the others.

"Even his face," she said. "He keeps it covered. Nobody we’ve spoken to can describe what’s under that armor."

She passed the last sheet across the table.

"Captain Veshara helped our artist draw this."

Zorvanna took the sketch. A broad-shouldered man stood beneath a closed black helmet, red eyes glaring through the visor.

Her heavy tail slid across the cushions and flicked over the couch’s edge.

"Oh..."

The queen brought the drawing closer, her draconic eyes narrowing as she studied the armor. At last, her assistant eased her grip on the papers.

"You see why I wanted you to look?"

"That’s some badass armour."

"...Your Majesty?"

Zorvanna’s tongue passed over her lips.

"I like his eyes."