pertwk Chapter 43 Assessing the Situation
Chapter 43 Assessing the Situation
Inferior refurbished horseshoes
Entry:
[Metal Fatigue (Gray Inferior)]: Scrap iron that has been recast three times, with cracks inside that are invisible to the naked eye.
[Illegal polishing (grayish inferior quality)]: Artificially created old scratches.
……
Immediately afterwards, Rod's gaze swept past the boss's shoulder and into the shadows of the stable.
[Retired military horse (Terragard, Northern Territory standard)]
Entry:
[Army Mark (White Common)]: Covered up. Property of the Kingdom of Terragard Garrison; any form of private sale constitutes a felony.
……
"Besides, I noticed that the inside of these two horses' hind legs look like they have been branded with iron marks scraped off under the skin?" Rhodes gave an almost naive smile. "I've heard that the Kingdom of Terragard has recently lost quite a few warhorses."
The fat on the boss's cheek twitched, and his beady eyes widened suddenly: "You... what nonsense are you talking about!"
"Whether it's nonsense or not, just call over the tax officials or the patrol team from the local police station, and we'll find out."
Rod slowly untied the drawstring of his purse, took out a silver coin with a sailboat design, held it up to his eyes, and examined the edge of the coin in the light from the doorway.
"For a dozen or so silver coins, what if they find out something else... like, a business of reselling military horses? Then the losses will probably go beyond just this post station."
He tapped his dusty old trench coat with his thumb and gestured with his chin toward the massive tower shield behind Avira.
"Also, we just came back from turning in a quest at the guild. The quest wasn't big, but the blood on this sword hasn't completely dissipated, and that rusty smell... Boss, you should be able to smell it, right?"
The boss's face drained of all color, and a layer of oily sweat appeared.
His gaze slid from Rhodes's unwavering eyes to Ivy's hand gripping the hilt of her sword.
Having spent half his life struggling in Rust Shields, he knew perfectly well when to exploit them and when to keep a low profile.
The young man in front of you may seem honest and simple, but every barb hidden in his words could be deadly.
"Um...maybe I'm seeing things."
The shopkeeper forced out two dry laughs, quickly counted out another 15 silver coins, and pushed them to Rod's side.
"It's all a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding," he skillfully invoked a non-existent friendship. "We've dealt with each other more than once or twice. This time, I misjudged... Full refund, full refund."
Rod did not put the money away immediately.
He picked up another silver coin, ran his fingertip along the edge of the coin to prevent theft and cuts, and made sure there were no defects. He then turned it over and examined the sailboat relief on the back against the light to make sure the pattern was clear and that it had not been melted down.
He inspected each and every silver coin in front of the boss.
Only after confirming that the last coin was a genuine piece of high quality did Rod sweep them all into his money bag and tie the drawstring tightly.
"Thanks, boss." Rod patted his boss's stiff shoulder as if they were indeed close old friends. "I'll come back for business next time."
The boss's facial muscles twitched, but he forced a stiff smile: "Sure, sure..."
Stepping out of the post station, Rod weighed the money pouch in his hand, counted out half of the silver coins, and gave them to Avira.
"Here, your share."
"My lord, this..." Avira was momentarily at a loss for words, "Don't I owe you a debt?"
"If I don't pay you your salary, how will you pay me back? Besides, this is money you earned with your life." Rhodes stuffed the remaining money into his pocket and kept it close to his body, not giving her a chance to refuse. "Let's go, to the guild. We still have a tough battle ahead. But we probably won't win that one."
In this world known as Aethergard, if anything permeates every corner more than the whispers of the Old Gods, it is undoubtedly the power network of the Adventurers' Guild Federation.
Long before the first year of the Guild Era, during the bloody era recorded in history as the "Iron Crown War," the disorderly expansion of the underground world triggered the "First Pollution Wave," a disaster that nearly pushed humanity's crumbling civilization back to the brink of destruction once again.
The survivors learned a lesson from the ruins and corpses: chaos is the original sin, and the establishment of order must come at a price.
So, 324 years before the meeting, the leaders of some of the most powerful survivor factions signed a pact on the charred skeleton of the First Ruins - Ulduar, a pact that would reshape the world order.
They joined forces to seal off all known entrances to the underground cities, seized control of the identification and recovery of ancient artifacts, and fundamentally monopolized the definition and transmission of "power."
Now, a thousand years have passed.
This vast monopoly has long since transcended its original purpose of managing adventurers—it has evolved into an invisible empire that reigns supreme over all kingdoms.
The Adventurers' Guild Federation holds the reins of the world's survival by controlling the economy through the issuance of "Orim" currency, by granting "Professional Certificates" that grant access to the ladder of extraordinary power, and by strategically sealing off high-risk ruins.
As the motto inscribed on the headquarters gate of the Round Table Council states: "Order comes from monopoly, progress from exploration."
But to the adventurers at the very bottom, the actual meaning of this sentence is just a few words—either become a dog for the guild or die in the wilderness.
The Adventurers' Guild hall was as noisy as ever.
The sounds of people shouting, metal clanging, and cups and plates smashing blended together.
The sour smell of sweat, the sweetness of cheap alcohol, and the rusty smell of wet metal all mixed together, stinging the nasal cavity.
"Black Iron-class squad 'Anvil,' mission number B-7092, Investigation of anomalies in the Darkwood magic node." Rhodes placed the data logger on the marble table. "The mission item is here."
Behind the counter was a middle-aged man wearing a monocle and a crisply starched wool uniform, with a perfunctory indifference in his eyes.
He picked up the recorder and precisely plugged it into the interface of a large brass differential machine next to him.
The gears inside the machine meshed and rotated, and a perforated paper strip was ejected from the other end.
The receptionist's gaze swept over the paper strip, and her brow furrowed imperceptibly.
"Recorded data shows that the peak data acquisition process was interrupted and the core node reset procedure has not been confirmed to be completed."
He looked up, his tone businesslike and devoid of any personal emotion: "According to Article 14 of the Mission Execution Regulations, this constitutes 'breach of delivery.' The main mission objectives have not been achieved, and there is a potential risk of equipment damage due to overload... A penalty of 40% will be deducted, and the node maintenance subsidy will be cancelled."
The receptionist picked up a quill pen and drew a diagonal line on the task handover form, then pointed the pen tip to the crystal card reader slot on the counter.
"Insert your guild ledger cards. The original reward was 50 orim, but you'll receive 30. Next."