Side Story: Let This Bereaving Soul Throw in the Towel!
The village chief went wide-eyed when he heard the name given to him. “My word! I’ve heard that name before. Your mask and appearance, it all rings a bell. You’re that famous hunter, aren’t you?!”
They were in a remote village far from any major cities. Its population was less than one thousand, its only defenses consisted of a wooden fence, and there wasn’t even an Explorers’ Association branch.
When the town found itself with an emergency too big for it to handle, the normal response was to head to the Association branch in the next town over. Once again, they had shamefully put in a request with the Association after being unable to handle some monster trouble.
However, this time, they were met with a tall, magnanimous young man. He had finely shaped eyes and hair as black as the night. In his hand was a staff unlike anything most ordinary hunters could get their hands on. There was a gold gem at the top of it, and it had a peculiar glint.
Hearing the shock and bewilderment in the chief’s voice, the young man simply gave him a thin smile. That alone took away the breath of the prominent villagers gathered in the chief’s house. There was no doubt about it, this was the preterhuman artificer, the Thousand Tricks, the man causing such a stir in the great empire of Zebrudia that the echoes could be heard even in a remote village like this one.
“That couldn’t be me,” the young man answered. “I’m still yet to make a name for myself.”
“S-Such modesty. There’s just one problem. I understand you graciously came all this way for us, but we don’t have the money to pay a high-level hunter such as yourself, especially if you’ve brought your party with you.”
A treasure hunter’s bread and butter was raiding treasure vaults. How often they chose to take on other quests was a matter of personal preference, and not many villages had the sort of coin that could entice a high-level hunter.
That, however, wasn’t the only reason the chief was confused. Behind the young man were a few more young men and women, all of whom looked a few grades less impressive (it wasn’t the kindest way to put it, but it was true) than their leader. Still, they matched the description of the party led by the Thousand Tricks.
It would take considerable optimism to think a town like this might have the money to hire a single high-level hunter, to say nothing of an entire party. This quest wasn’t even a particularly dangerous one in the first place; a party of moniker-bearers was complete overkill. Besides, when putting in a request at the Association, the villagers had said payment was open to negotiations. Who could have expected their request would be answered by such a famous party?
One of the hunters, a man with red hair, adjusted his glasses and put on a vaguely fishy smile. “You said payment is negotiable. I understand you’re not at liberty to reward us lavishly. However, our name is one known by many. If we work for too little, the Association will be none too—”
“Hmph. There’s no need to pay us,” the young man interjected. “We strive for nothing more than to be treasure hunters.”
“Wh-What?!” the chief stammered.
He knew that there were all sorts of hunters out there, but he never thought there were ones who would work for free after coming all the way out to the middle of nowhere. What in the world were these people doing here?
The Thousand Tricks appeared to be brimming with confidence, but his comrades were all clutching their heads.
“What the hell, Kule?!” Kutri the Alchemist shouted. “I thought we were supposed to be living the easy life!”
“Well, what do you want me to do?!” Kule retorted, then let out a sigh. “Krahi’s pure.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When they had found an extraordinary young man with a name strikingly similar to the famous leader of Grieving Souls, their intent was to manipulate that resemblance to their benefit and reap the profits.
There was a constant rumbling outside. This was their leader practicing his lightning magic, a part of Krahi Andrihee’s daily routine.
“There’s something wrong with that guy,” Kutri said. “I wouldn’t have signed up for this if I had known how many screws he has bouncing around in his skull.”
“Sure, but Izabee and I are in his debt.” Kule shrugged.
He and Izabee had met Krahi during a hunt. A few turns of bad luck had left them surrounded by monsters and with little hope of survival. That was when Krahi, the solo hunter, gracefully came to their rescue.
At first, Kule had genuinely thought he was the real Thousand Tricks, but that misunderstanding was quickly cleared up. The real Thousand Tricks of preterhuman artifice couldn’t possibly be so stup— naive.
This was when Kule came up with the idea for Bereaving Souls. Krahi had powers on par with the real Thousand Tricks, whereas Kule was very short on strength. However, Krahi lacked basic knowledge regarding the world of treasure hunting, meaning Kule could be of use to him. He just hadn’t imagined that Krahi was the sort to charge headlong into danger.
Krahi was strong. He was courageous, able to fight, fairly intelligent, and most of all, he had an all too intense passion for heroism. By the time the other Bereavers had realized this, it was too late to back down. So came about the strongest party, Bereaving Souls, led by the Thousandfold Theurgics.
Kule and the others did their best to plan their travels so as to reduce their chances of running into the real party. Krahi, however, wasn’t easy to control. If people were suddenly attacked by monsters to the east, he would head there posthaste and start shooting bolts. If there were rumors of bandits to the west, he would head there and start shooting bolts. To top it all off, he refused to accept payment. Not only that, he frequently made charitable donations. It would be stranger if rumors didn’t start circulating.
This affected the others as well, bringing them excess attention and constricting their behavior. Only Kutri continued to get up to shenanigans on her own, but even she exercised restraint. The real Grieving Souls didn’t have the best reputation, so some bad attention only made it all the harder to tell which party was the real one.
All hunters had the right to be remunerated for their work, so turning down payment wasn’t necessarily a benevolent thing to do. If Krahi flouted tradition, some people might expect other hunters to do the same. If they continued to work for nothing, it could lead to the Association wanting to have a word with them, and it could even result in Bereaving Souls being exposed for the frauds they were.
“I guess the line between morons and champions really is paper thin.” Izabee let out a tired sigh. “But we gotta do something about this or we’re gonna be screwed.”
“Well, if we run into the real ones, Krahi will probably be forgiven. He’s not trying to fool anyone after all,” Kutri remarked. “Maybe we should just go ahead and disband?”
“But Krahi’s so thrilled to have comrades,” Kule argued. “I don’t want to imagine what he might say if we tried to disband.”
These three weren’t nearly talented enough to fight alongside someone like Krahi. Their party existed only because Krahi wanted it to, which under more normal circumstances would be a stroke of good luck for them.
“Exactly,” Izabee chimed in. “If we tried to split up, he’d take it super hard.”
“And that means we have to dumpster the idea?” Kutri replied. “God damn, I walk among saints.”
“No, it’s just that looking at him tugs at my conscience. Like, we’re definitely going to hell if we betray him.”
“Sure, but where does that leave us? We can try to keep our distance from the real ones, but we’re right to fear them. They’re much bigger freaks than Krahi!”
“Yeaaah. We gotta find some way to reign Krahi in.”
That was the issue. Krahi was fairly powerful, but the real one was far more accomplished than Kule had initially realized. He had never met the real Thousand Tricks in person, but he had heard the rumors. It wasn’t just that the real one was formidable; he had a whole party of renowned hunters. Bereaving Souls could never win against them, it would hardly even be a fight. Kule’s chest ached when he imagined what might happen if Krahi found out about their fraud.
He stood up and sighed. “We’ve got no better options. We’ll continue with Operation Sister Enlistment!”
Kutri grimaced. “We’re gonna find him an adoring little sister so we can cancel one evil with another? You were serious about that?”
“It’s better than doing nothing, right? Though I don’t think it’ll really work,” Izabee said and seemed to really mean it.
“How can you call yourself the ‘Protean Sortie’ when nothing’s gone according to plan? And what’re we gonna do for our dearest big brother?”
“Even among Grieving Souls, Ansem Smart is quite famous and has a distinct appearance. He won’t be easy to copy.”
“If we have to, maybe we can just find a small guy?”
“And get exposed immediately? Kutri, we’re not doing this as a joke.”
“Excuse me if I forgot! Are you even trying to look like the other guy? The real one’s a Swordsman, so you could at least carry a blade around with you! You’re screwing up as much as any of us!”
Kule ignored her provocations and clenched his fist. “We might not find an Ansem, but I’m sure things will go fine on the Lucia front! I hear the real one is quite fond of his sister, and with Krahi’s good looks, we shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone willing to play the part! I’m sure he’ll start to take it easy if he has a top-tier sister!”
Kutri and Izabee looked at each other and sighed.
“Top-tier sister. We’re just digging ourselves into a deeper hole,” the former said.
“After we dyed our hair to match, I’m not sure we’re in any position to talk,” replied the latter.
Interests, upbringings, birthplaces, appearances—everything about them was different, but in this one moment, they looked like they might actually be siblings.
Kule endured their looks of exasperation and adjusted his glasses. “Your petty villainy isn’t going to work either! Vice won’t work on Krahi! We’re searching for a purehearted sister! One he can take anywhere and will keep him under control!”
“We’re supposed to be the villains?!” Kutri yelled back. “Kule Saicool is trying to call me a scoundrel?! Why can’t you at least try and resemble the real Swordsman!”
“Enough about me!”
While the members of Bereaving Souls argued, an exceptionally powerful bolt struck nearby. Their adventures had only just begun.
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