Chapter 26: A Quest for Fangs

This was Aino’s second time entering a city, and she couldn’t help but instinctively compare the human city of Dante to the dwarven city of Grantham beneath her feet.

The difference was stark. Dante’s streets were uneven and chaotic, serving more as a basic gathering place for humans. Grantham, however, was much more "organized." As soon as they entered the city, the smooth, solid streets and tall, structured buildings stood in sharp contrast to Dante’s haphazard layout.

Another major difference was diversity. Grantham wasn’t solely inhabited by dwarves—it was a melting pot of many races. On the streets, Aino spotted a stone giant carefully weaving through the crowds to avoid bumping into others and a flower sprite fluttering nervously, shouting for people to watch out as she navigated through the throng.

The flower sprite, no more than a few inches tall, flitted left and right, struggling to make her way through the bustling crowd. Aino couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“She’s adorable,” Aino said with a soft chuckle, watching the sprite until it flew out of sight.

“Look over there. Even cuter,” Parker chimed in, not entirely seriously, pointing toward a voluptuous werewolf woman. Her tanned skin was mostly exposed, and every step she took sent ripples through her figure.

Alea rolled her eyes dramatically, glaring at Parker with disdain. “Your gaze is disgusting!”

“Relax, relax. Magic is all I care about now,” Parker retorted, quickly putting on a serious face. “Women would only slow down my casting speed!”

As they ventured deeper into the city, the streets grew livelier, lined with dense clusters of shops and filled with the cacophony of voices in countless languages.

“Yikes, this one’s at least 35 Sol coins.”

“ᚠᛁᛖᚱᛁᛖᛚᚨ ᚦᚠᛁᚱ ᚦᚨ 30?”

“…”

It was apparent that the language barrier was a significant challenge here. Many shoppers from different races stood in front of stalls, attempting to communicate through gestures or crude drawings. It was clear how cumbersome the process could be.

“So that’s how they handle language differences…” Aino muttered, slightly exasperated.

Parker, ever observant, offered a different perspective. “Actually, if you’re smart about it, the language barrier isn’t that big of a deal. Just exchange for dwarf currency first, then clearly indicate what you want to buy. Numbers are universal, after all.”

Aino nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense. Since we don’t have any money right now, let’s focus on earning some dwarf currency first. Most of the shops here seem to be dwarf-owned, and their weapons are probably the best.”

But where to start?

As they strolled through the streets, Aino noticed that nearly every shop had people trying to negotiate. The crowd was thick, and the difficulties in communication often led to prolonged disputes. It took some time before she finally found a suitable place.

The shop was far shabbier than the others. Its faded wooden sign bore the word “Blacksmith” in dwarven script, though the lettering was barely legible.

Aino was the first to step inside. The dimly lit interior was illuminated only by a few beams of light streaming through cracks in the roof. Piles of tools and half-finished products were stacked haphazardly, and the air smelled faintly of rust, old wood, and charcoal.

From behind a cluttered pile of goods emerged the dwarf shopkeeper. He was a head shorter than Aino, with disheveled hair and a tangled beard. Dressed in a leather apron stained with grease and metal filings, he glanced up at the group with a raspy voice.

“Do you speak Dwarvish?”

“I do,” Aino replied.

The shopkeeper looked her over with curiosity. A non-dwarf who could speak Dwarvish, especially one who appeared to be a young human girl, was a rarity. He nodded. “Not often you see that. What do you need?”

“We don’t have any money, but we can use magic. We’d like to earn some currency here to buy weapons. Would that be possible?” Aino asked directly.

The shopkeeper frowned, stroking his bushy beard as he seemed to weigh his options.

“Payment, huh… Hmm. I do have something, but you lot are awfully young, aren’t you? At your age, a dwarf wouldn’t even have grown a proper beard yet.”

After some hesitation, he waved his hands dismissively. “No, no, it’s too dangerous. You kids should try another shop. I can’t risk it.”

But strength was the last thing Aino was worried about. She had already assessed the shopkeeper’s magical aura—it was standard for a dwarven commoner. Whatever task he had in mind was likely well within her capabilities.

Smiling faintly, Aino said, “Judging by appearances isn’t a good habit. Tell us the job, and we’ll handle it.”

“Well… Alright then. I need ten fangs from Shadow Wolves. They can be found in…”

After receiving the details, Aino and her companions left the shop, heading straight for the Karlsa Shadow Forest.

“What are Shadow Wolves?” Aino asked the others, hoping they might have some knowledge.

Unfortunately, all three replied with a resounding “No idea.” Parker and Alea admitted their lack of familiarity with magical beasts, while Zola said they weren’t native to the Ward Forest where she had lived.

“No matter. They shouldn’t be too much trouble,” Aino said lightly.

The Karlsa Shadow Forest was aptly named. The sunlight seemed to lose its strength here, barely filtering through the dense canopy and casting faint, fragmented light on the forest floor.

The twisted branches and faint mist gave the forest a surreal, labyrinthine quality, as if the place existed between reality and illusion.

“I definitely prefer the Ward Forest to this place,” Alea murmured, gripping Zola’s arm tightly as the thickening fog reduced visibility to just a few steps ahead. Being the only one without magic, she had no choice but to rely on Zola.

Feeling Alea’s touch, Zola turned to look at her. Alea, pretending not to notice, gazed in another direction, though her fingers remained lightly on Zola’s arm.

“...Yes, I prefer the Ward Forest too,” Zola said softly, her tone calm yet eerie amidst the misty surroundings.

“If you’re scared, you can hold my hand, Miss Alea,” Zola offered, her unblinking, lifeless green eyes fixed on Alea like an automaton carrying out a command.

“…Thank you,” Alea replied, hesitantly taking Zola’s hand.

The two continued onward, hand in hand. With Zola leading, Alea could follow without fear of getting lost.

As they walked, the mist began to thin, and they arrived at a more open area. Aino was just about to scan the surroundings for signs of the Shadow Wolves when Parker’s voice broke through.

“Master! Are they possessed or something?!”

Aino turned around to see Zola and Alea, hand in hand, following behind. When the pair noticed the group had stopped, they froze awkwardly, their clasped hands stiff as if caught in the act.

The four stood there for a moment, staring at one another. In each other’s eyes, they saw the same emotions: awkwardness, surprise, and just a hint of laughter.