Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 201

The Auditor

After cleaning up, Nick brought Karn to the nearest tavern and ordered ale. The man drank three full mugs before finally opening his mouth and started to ramble on about himself.

The young man was the only son of a merchant who bought his position with money. His parents, like many newly made Nobles, dreamed of nothing else but rising through the ranks.

He was put into the most prestigious Academy, and had the best tutors. However, he himself was a wholly average person. The only thing he was good at was knowing how to dress well and knew people who knew people. That was why, despite his academic results, he was able to obtain many Nobles as customers for his family’s business, going so far as more than tripling their revenue within a few years.

However, it was not enough for the parents. No matter how much he tried, it was never enough. They had created a goal that would never be reached even if he was to kill himself from trying. And just as they were thinking of how to rise even higher, a Marquis who was down on his luck proposed and engagement between his daughter and Karn.

However, the daughter was a forty years old woman who was as unlikable as she was wasteful; to say that she was disdainful of the lower class would be an understatement.

Karn Welk could only despair of his bleak future. At the lowest point of his life, a good friend recommended him to at least throw away his virginity by bedding a high-class Courtesan. He agreed without thinking much of it.

“That night, I met my Goddess. She was smart and cultured. She also listened to my ramblings and complaints without ridicule. Her words of comfort were like a warm pillow in my ears. Her voice like the most beautiful arias,” he reminisced. “We spent the night talking until the sun rose. And from then on, I would come to her and we would talk. And I learned about her. Her likes and dislikes. Her pet peeves and her dreams.”

Nick swallowed his ale with a mixed feeling of pity and amazement.

“Then, one day I offered to buy her so I can marry her.”

“Whoa, that came out of nowhere. Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re a Noble, trying to marry a Courtesan! People ain’t gonna like that!”

“That doesn’t matter. She vehemently refused even though I promised her everything. I’m just chasing a dream. Fuck! Then suddenly all of that stopped when Madame Griselda forbid me from seeing her. She even suggested me to try another woman. The audacity!!” the dandyman glugged the cheap ale angrily. “And the sun gave way to darkness. My world became grey once again.”

“Is that why you came to the brothel with thugs in tow?” Nick said in amazement. “You were lucky, kid. Though your men had swords, none of them drew theirs when they were coming at us. Otherwise, things might get a dicey for you.”

“I know. I know! But can you imagine?! Living everyday in a life that’s not your own? Shambling through life without being able to see the light of hope? What am I supposed to do? You tell me that!”

Nick shook his head in amazement. “You are the stupidest man I have ever had the pleasure to know. But by Junnaveil’s Grace, you are much better than the asshole I once served under. Another mug of ale!”

“Fuck! This is not strong enough! Give me the strongest drink you have!!” Karn shouted.

“That’s the best I’ve got,” the tavern owner said.

“Take it,” the dandy slammed a gold coin onto the counter. Seeing that, the shopkeeper quickly took it, for fear of the dandyman regaining his sobriety and rescinding the offer. He bit into it and upon confirming that it was real, proceeded to shout. “Marlene! Get me the Norin’s Scrugger!”

“Wait, I thought you got mugged. Where did you get that coin from?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

Nick glanced at the tavern owner and immediately closed his eyes and struggled mightily to keep his gag reflex from emptying the ale in his gullet onto the floor.

“Ugh…gag. Ehem…”

The tavern owner’s wife put down a dusty bottle of alcohol. When she took out the cork, a powerful smell assailed their noses. “Norin’s Scrugger. Brewed by an old friend. Enough to make a Dwarf fall on his butt. It’s so strong we had to keep it in glass, on account of it being able to eat through metal.”

“Pour me one,” Karn said shakily. The tavern owner silently prayed as he put down a homemade thimble sized cup and gingerly poured a thimbleful of Norin’s Scrugger into it. Karn downed it in one gulp and screamed like a donkey being branded.

“I don’t have enough Silver to give you as change,” the taver owner said expectantly.

Karn grunted and punched the table repeatedly as he felt the drink thrashing inside his throat and doing somersault inside his stomach. “Treat the other patrons…free ale…! Gagh!!”

“You hear that, lads?!” the tavern owner yelled. “Free ale for the night!”

“Huzzah!!”

“Bottoms up then, kid,” Nick said, following his lead. “See you on the other side.”

At the same time, somewhere near the Business District, Illumca stood in front of a nondescript candy store wearing a simple dress and a scarf. The store was situated in the middle of an empty building and a store selling flowers. On the storefront, she could read the words, ‘Mr. Clocke’s Confectioneries’ painted in a cheerful yellow.

She pushed open the door, triggering the bell above the door which tinkled happily.

“We are closed,” an old man sitting behind a wooden table yawned as he counted the day’s income. His indifference was a stark contrast to the colourful, sugary sweet candies that surrounded him.

“I’m looking for a bitter candy,” Illumca said.

The old man glanced quietly at her before flipping a board with the list of candies and prices that was on his table. On the back, written with chalk were the words, “No Mask. No Hood. No Service.”

Seeing this, Illumca pulled down the scarf that was hiding the lower part of her face and started over. “I’m looking for a bitter candy.”

Satisfied, the old man harrumphed before asking. “How bitter do you want it?”

“As bitter as the cold of early day.”

“And how should I serve it?”

“On a bed of thornleaf. On a silver plate, with a sprig of mint,” Illumca spoke the nonsensical sentence as if reciting from a script, gauging the expression of the storekeeper.

The man put down his coins and reached to the shelf next to him. There was an audible click that sounded hollow and heavy somewhere behind him, then a whirr and a thunk. Then another click as the lock on the store door slid into place.

A shelf filled with jars of candies in front of Illumca moved back and a hidden staircase was revealed.

“Mind your head. The ceiling’s not as tall as it looked.”

Illumca threw a look overhead and saw that a certain part of the wooden ceiling had recessed, forming the rough approximation of the top of a man’s head, she briefly wondered how many foreheads had fallen prey to it.

She went down the ancient staircase and heard another click and a whir as the shelf closed behind her. After about thirty steps down and around, she arrived in front of an ornate wooden door whose reliefs had been weathered down with age.

Illumca pulled her scarf above her nose once more before entering the door.

The scent of tea and sweets sneaked through her scarf and into her olfactory senses. For a moment Illumca was taken aback by the stark difference between the dingy Cairula Assassin’s Guild and the one she was in at the moment. The place looked more like a regular lounge at a Noble’s house. The floor was made of wood - as per tradition - and the walls must have been white at some point in the past, but now it was depressingly dull.

The men and women perusing of the Guild’s service also looked more presentable, although some of them were still wearing hoods or masks to hide their face.

When she took the first step in and heard the floor creak even at the slightest pressure, instantly she felt that this was, indeed, the Assassin’s Guild.

Ah, this all too familiar feeling. Illumca thought. I wonder if all Assassin’s Guild deliberately made the floor like this.

She walked straight to the counter where a man in a dark suit was serving a plain looking man with amazingly curly mustache. A brown beret adorning his balding head.

“We’ve confirmed the completion of the assassination of Sir Kerly Boore, Mr. Madison. Would you prefer the payment to be in Gold or Silver?”

“A mix of Silver and Bronze if you can. I’d like to buy some candies for the kids at home. They do love their caramels.”

“Certainly, Mr. Madison. Will that be all?”

After a brief chit chat, the mustachioed Assassin left and the man smiled at Illumca, showing his pearly white teeth. “Good evening, my name is Cromley. Is this your first time here?”

“Yes. I’d like to…” Illumca was about to take out the badges when she noticed a poster with Connie’s picture on a red board behind the receptionist. “Can I see that one?”

“Of course,” Cromley said. He pulled the poster from the board and handed it over to Illumca.

In the picture, Connie looked tired, seemingly drawn from the time she was accused of treason.

“That mission is a peculiar one. It rose from a D-Rank Mission to a B-Rank within a few months. I don’t recommend you taking that one if you’re below C-Rank. We have a few Assassins that took it, thinking it was an easy hit, only to not return.”

“Oh, what happened?” Illumca said, faking obliviousness.

“Well, between you and me, I suspect that she had strong subordinates under her. Otherwise, at least one of them would have succeeded by now. It was also said that one of them was a Dark Elf Assassin like you. Of course, I haven’t met a lot of Dark Elves,” Cromley joked. “Ah, forgive me, I have not asked your name yet, Miss.”

“What happens if I take this mission and do not finish it?” Illumca asked, ignoring his question. She knew that there was little chance of her stopping this kind of missions, but she had to try and find a loophole regardless.

“There’s a time limit set on it, Miss. If you don’t finish it in time, it’ll just be re-posted and you’ll get a penalty. And the Guild is very keen on documentation and integrity, so if you do take it and deliberately not finish it, it will be considered fraud and you will be flagged. You don’t want to be flagged.”

“Hmm. May I know who made the request?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. Not unless you take it.”

Illumca silently pulled a leather pouch on the counter and slid it silently towards the receptionist. The receptionist saw a glint of golden shine from the pouch, then immediately pushed the pouch back towards Illumca.

“Save your gold, miss. I can’t tell you, even under pain of death. There is a reason why this place is called the Assassin’s Guild.”

Frowning, the Dark Elf returned the poster to the man, who placed it back onto the red board.

“I do wonder what happened to the Assassins,” Cromley said. “There were quite a number of them if I remember.”

“I’ll save you the effort,” Illumca said, placing the large pouch on the counter. These are the badges of the ones who took that mission.”

The man looked at her curiously before loosening the string. His expression changed as soon as he saw the badges with skull and knife inside.

“T-then you are…?” he began speaking, trying to find out a word that would not offend.

“They came at my companion, so I took care of them,” she said bluntly. “So rather than sending these men to their deaths, how about I have talk with your superior?”

“I-I,” The friendly tone of the man became fearful. “I…I need to consult with him first.”

Illumca nodded.

Quickly Cromley made his way to the back door.

The Dark Elf turned around and saw that the indifferent looks from the people sitting around the lobby had become varied. Some showed anger, some showed curiosity, and some were even showing amusement. Clearly Assassins were unwholesome bunch.

She met the eyes of the mustachioed man who was in front of her before. The gentleman promptly raised his cup of tea and gave her a nod in greeting.

Not long after, the man returned and said to her. “I’ve talked to my superior, and he wants to meet you. “Please, this way.”

Illumca was led to a door with the letter, ‘Auditor’ engraved in gold plate. Cromley knocked on the door. When a word of acknowledgment came from behind it, he opened the door and stepped aside for Illumca.

As she entered, she noted the smell of tea and sweets, mixed with the scent of old books and ink. There was a wooden desk at the other end of the room where a man was working on a document.

The man looked the very image of an office worker. The tight, buttoned white collar. The depressingly grey suit that looked as if it was made for a funeral, and the pristine white cuffs buttoned with an ornate silver cuff-link that looked suspiciously blackish.

“Ah, Miss Illumca. Please, sit. This won’t be long,” the man said. He did not look that old, but his greying hair that was combed back neatly told her otherwise. “Some tea or butterscotch candy? They aren’t poisoned.”

“No, thanks. I’ve already eaten.”

“Shame, I bought these from a renowned shop.”

Illumca grabbed the top of the chair in front of the desk and audibly pulled the chair until it was more than an arm’s length from the desk before sitting on it.

The man with the well-groomed hair raised an eyebrow slightly, but did not comment on her action.

“You can leave us, Mr. Cromley,” He said, before returning to his work and seemingly forgot about her for the next few minutes.

When he was finished, the man put his quill aside and gazed at Illumca with a thin smile.

“Now then, Miss Illumca. I hear you have something you need to discuss with me. Oh...!” he playfully hit the top of his forehead with the tips of his right hand. “Ah, forgive me, I have forgotten to introduce myself. Forget my own head next,” he steepled his fingers together and placed it on top of his desk. His posture as straight as a flagpole.

“I am the Auditor of the Courandhel Branch of the Assassin’s Guild, presiding over all the Calendian Assassin's Guild as a whole. You can think of me of a Guild Master of sorts. You can call me Mr. Butters.”

“That’s not your real name, is it?”

“Of course not. Not in this line of business. And especially not in my position,” he said. “The Assassins in the Guild’s employ usually preferred to not have anything to do with us, so I was surprised that you requested a meeting with me.”

“Auditor, huh? That sounds more like a government official job rather than a leader of Assassin’s Guild.”

“You would be surprised at how much paperwork is actually needed for even a simple mission. Even a Guild with bloodthirsty killers needs proper papers to be officiated and followed to the letter, otherwise, our Guild would be as corrupt as the Hunter’s Guild,” he said as he leaned forward with a thin smile. “I know that a lot of people say that the Assassin’s Guild regard people’s life as worthless. But make no mistake, we regard people’s lives more precious than any other. That’s why we put such high price on them," Mr. Butters chuckled at his own words. "But I’ve digressed. I believe you have something to request, in the line of taking off your employer’s name from our board?”

At this, Illumca shifted forward. “Yes. Is there any way of doing it?”

“Unfortunately, no. the Assassin’s Guild is a supporter of equal opportunity, whether it is the Assassins or the targets. We do not refuse any request from all patrons, we even have requests regarding Guild Master Sabrac’s head. Of course, the price is astronomical.”

“Then I’ll just have to continue taking care of the flies that’s buzzing around us,” she snarled.

“And that you have done. Very well, in fact,” he lifted one of the papers in front of him and peered through his monocle. “…twenty-two confirmed counter-Assassinations. Very impressive. But I must warn you, you are not exactly making friends here.”

“I’m just doing what I must,” Illumca said, glaring daggers at Mr. Butters.

“That is very loyal of you,” the gentlemanly Auditor smiled. “Again, I’m simply stating a fact. If they die, it’s because they haven’t done their due diligence. Actually, I have a mind to thank you for separating the chaff from the wheat. Then again, the information was a wash,” he said with a sigh. “It is now known to many that Lady Steelheart has two Unrestrained Candidates serving her, including herself. That bumps up the difficulty quite a bit. The amount of reward and Rank needs to be changed again.”

Illumca, hearing that the Auditor was planning to re-post Connie’s Assassination mission right in front of her face made her angry. She was about to make a move at him, but the man had already reacted and threw a small stake on the floor and spoke. “Shadow Stitch.”

Illumca found that she was rooted to her seat. She could not move even if she was using all her strength, it was like she was swimming inside a dense mud. “W-what did you do to me?”

“Shadow Stitching. I’m sure you’re familiar with it, seeing as you’re an Unrestricted Candidate,” he said. Then, he saw the still expression on her face and he made an O with his mouth. “Oh, you don’t know this Skill, do you? That’s odd. I wonder why that is?”

“Ngh!” She growled, refusing to answer.

“Answer me, or not. That’s your prerogative. But you see this monocle? This is an Artifact that I’ve spent most of my retirement funds on. It is capable of seeing through Glamours and things hidden through Skill or Magic Tools. So regardless, I will still know.”

“Now, let’s see,” the man peered at her through the lens of his monocle and spoke. “Analyze.”

“Ah, yes. You’ve passed the boundary of the Level. Sixty-Four. Commendable. And yet you haven’t obtained this Skill. Very strange."

Illumca squirmed at this feeling of her privacy being violated. She cursed at him angrily, yet the man did not flinch.

“Double Job. Not unheard of, of course. But a rare case, very rare," he thought for a few moments before continuing. "I see now. It’s because you’re chasing two things at the same time. It takes longer for you to obtain the Advanced Skills of your job,” he said, as he poured himself some tea. “Are you sure you do not want to have some? I got the leaves from the same purveyor who caters to the Royal Family.”

Illumca’s answer was a firm scowl.

“I thought not,” he said, putting in two sugars into his tea before stirring it twice clockwise. “If this goes on, I fear that you’ll hit the ceiling without being able to obtain the most powerful Assassin Skills available,” Mt. Butters saw the change in her demeanour when he finished speaking and gave a thin smile. “Does that catch your attention? Great. You are brash, and prideful, as many young Assassins are, but you have the ability to think about pros and cons. That is a very good trait to have in my view.”

"Which brings me an idea." he kicked away the stake pinning Illumca's shadow. "Miss Illumca. Would you be interested in becoming an A-Rank Assassin?"