Kel leaned back in the chair, his face showing a mix of confusion and disbelief.

  “This must be a mistake. Or some kind of mix-up. The guards have a lot on their plates, maybe they just got things wrong.”

  Ingis spoke on, as if he hadn’t heard a word Kel said.

  “I got curious how it happened and checked with a friend in the Tower. You know how wizards love their paperwork. Turns out there’s information about Kelmire there too. Sad story.”

  Kel squinted, listening carefully. He knew what needed to be done–and he didn’t want to do it.

  “You’re upset that the Tower dictates our terms. Upset that they don’t listen to the call of magic. But if someone is born with magic, you can’t take it away, right? Magic teaches us to find a way out of any situation.”

  It seemed Ingis was speaking about something of his own.

  “Young man, relax. The room’s atmosphere has gotten too heavy. Mistakes happen, so let them happen. Now… where’s your winnings?”

  Kel didn’t quite understand what the healer was implying. Or if he was implying anything at all. But it was unlikely he suspected that Kel was the fugitive Archmage.

  The next day, there was a knock at his door.

  Standing there was a noblewoman he had seen at the Adventurers’ Guild.

  “Good day. Could you call Mr. Kelmir?” the girl asked.

  “That’s me,” Kel replied.

  The noblewoman gave him a skeptical look and clarified, “The renowned adventurer?”

  “Definitely not. You probably mean another Kelmir,” he said.

  “But Mr. Ingis gave me this address,” she insisted.

  The situation was starting to make sense. Kel opened the door slightly and motioned her in.

  The money he had received from Ingis was enough to move into the city’s finest inn. Kel chose a small suite. Most importantly – it had a hot bath. Kel had been craving one terribly for the past few days.

  Despite the town’s prim appearance, its proximity to the Wastelands had taught the local traders a simple rule: don’t ask questions if you’re getting paid.

  Kel had planned to update their wardrobe and pick up some useful supplies the next day, but in the morning, Kiana’s condition worsened. The girl couldn’t even get out of bed.

  Ingis had provided some potions, but like Kel’s own, they didn’t do much. He needed to find the root cause, and he had no idea how. And on top of that, an uninvited guest appeared.

  “My name is Vanessa Chartis.”

  The girl said it with such confidence that it was as if her name alone should explain everything to Kel.

  “You are to fulfill my request.”

  Kel raised an eyebrow, politely confused.

  “My father is the local baron,” Vanessa said, as if that explained everything.

  “I’m very glad for both you and your father. But what does that have to do with me?”

  Her face paled with indignation. Clearly, this was important to her. She collected herself and continued in a cold tone.

  “Recently, an Asta was spotted near the Sand Cliffs. I request that you retrieve its eyes.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not taking assignments right now. You should contact the Guild.”

  “Kel, are you okay? Who is that?” came Kiana’s voice from the room.

  “They just stopped by to ask something. Everything’s fine. Go back to rest.”

  “Madam Baroness, I suppose it’s time for you to leave.”

  “The Baroness is my mother. Titles don’t work that way,” Vanessa automatically corrected.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve come at a very bad time. My sister is ill, and I don’t have time for your requests.”

  “My sister…” Vanessa whispered, and tears began to fall.

  The disease that plagued the children of Ostalla hadn’t spared the Shartis family either. The baron’s youngest daughter fell ill. At first, her poor health was blamed on overwork from studies, but soon it became clear that the illness was serious. The girl was literally wasting away before their eyes.

  The baron reached out to every healer in the city, starting with Ingis. No one could help. After the first sick child died, Vanessa realized she could no longer just sit and wait for the healers to shrug helplessly.

  Her father sought salvation through medicine and magic? Then she would try everything else. The girl posted an announcement in the Adventurers’ Guild, promising a reward for any clue on how to cure the strange disease.

  By the very next day, she realized why her father hadn’t done it sooner. She was swamped with mountains of absurd suggestions. Against that backdrop, the advice to rub the sick girl with manure sounded almost reasonable.

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  And just yesterday, Vanessa was informed that there was another adventurer willing to discuss a cure. Despite her skepticism, she ordered him brought to her.

  “I was off on the other side myself, but he swears to all the Ascended that it was Asta. He’s always been cautious, but this time he just lost it, took off running. He even managed to grab his weapon. While I was trying to figure out where he’d gone, he fell into a hidden crevice. Luckily, I was nearby and pulled him out.

  His partner got badly injured, but he’ll live. That’s why he asked me to come and tell you about Asta.”

  Seeing Vanessa’s skeptical expression, the man added:

  “I think all these stories didn’t just appear out of nowhere. My partner said that Asta looked exactly like the tales – nothing was mixed up. He’s only hoping that once you obtain the potion, you’ll share it. His daughter is sick. This is his last hope.”

  Vanessa realized this was also her last hope. Without wasting a moment, she headed to the Adventurers’ Guild.

  There, she was politely but firmly turned down.

  “But why?” Kel muttered. You can place a request for the deadliest monsters. It’s the adventurer’s choice whether to take it. Besides, he didn’t remember ever hearing the name ‘Asta’ among high-rank monsters.

  He couldn’t recall the name appearing among bosses at allHand Aygon had faced plenty of them. The Archmage had been well-versed in monsters.

  “Asta.” Something flickered at the edge of her memory. Small. Insignificant.

  Right. Asta was a creature from children’s tales. The hero would kill it, and from its eyes make a potion that could heal a mortally wounded friend–or a beloved. In the stories, Asta’s potion could cure literally any illness.

  Vanessa gave a bitter smile.

  “In the Guild, they looked at me with the exact same expression. But I believe that adventurer didn’t lie. Still, the Guild refused the request. They said they sympathized with my grief, but out of respect for my family, they wouldn’t profit from it.”

  Or maybe they were afraid the Baron wouldn’t forgive them, Kel thought. Lately, he’d grown surprisingly cynical.

  Vanessa continued.

  “Today Ingis came by to check on Berry, my sister. I told him everything, and he suggested I come to you. He said that if anyone in this city could do it, it’s you.”

  “Wonderful. Simply delightful.”

  On one hand, Kel was annoyed with the old man. He was trying to play some mysterious game, and it was frustrating. On the other–well, the offer was undeniably tempting.

  Kel touched his badge.

  “I’m ready to make a contract.”

  Trusting people was one thing – but he needed a guarantee that he’d get the potion after the job was done.

  Vanessa had really thought everything through. To avoid spending a whole day on the road, she’d arranged for a mage to teleport them to the destination. If he could teleport himself and two other people, he had to be truly powerful. At first, Kel was surprised – how did someone like that end up in this backwater? It turned out Vanessa had managed to contact a mage from a major city and brought him here. He didn’t want to imagine how much it must have cost.

  The mage was supposed to arrive in the evening, and Kel decided to take care of something else first.

  After the new potions, Kiana was feeling better. Kel left her with the caretaker Vanessa had recommended and headed into the city.

  Funny, but he couldn’t help being annoyed by the adventurer uniforms. Dark brown with red accents – they symbolized readiness to face any challenge and a fearless willingness to spill one’s own blood.

  To Kel’s taste, they looked absolutely horrible.

  Adventurers took pride in their work – and in their uniforms. Though there was no rule against removing them, they almost never did.

  But since no one forbade it, Kel decided to get rid of the awful rags as quickly as possible. They’d done their job already – helped him escape the castle and the Wastelands. The important information was stored in his badge, and what clothes it was pinned to was irrelevant.

  The wealthy and noble had tailors make their garments. Everyone else relied on ready-made clothes from shops. In one of those shops, Kel picked up new items: pants, a shirt, and a jacket. Everything but the shirt was a pleasing shade of black.

  He also found a suitable cloak, complete with a couple of hidden pockets. Kel’s experience – or rather, the Archmage’s experience buried deep in his subconscious – whispered that a trump card in your sleeve was always useful. And not just a magical one.

  And most importantly–his new inventory. Kel hadn’t given up on figuring out the System and getting access to his old inventory. Too many valuable things were stored there. But until that happened, it was time to add a little convenience to his life.

  To handle the inventory, he had to go to the Adventurers’ Guild. The usual bustle filled the building. Adventurers from across the continent gathered in guilds; national borders were no obstacle for them. Despite the packed hall, Kel was the only person not in uniform – excluding clients, of course. Well, whatever.

  He approached the administrator’s desk. The same indifferent woman was there.

  “How can I help you?” – the standard question to start a conversation.

  “I need to link my inventory. I want it done immediately.”

  “Your badge, please.”

  Right – he’d forgotten to put it on. Kel pulled the badge from his pocket and placed it on the administrator’s desk.

  “Inventory access confirmed. Access level: Adventurer.”

  Maybe it was just a coincidence, but Kel felt that the phrasing the administrator used sounded a lot like the wording from his System. He’d need to read more about the Guild’s mechanics later–there might be useful information there.

  “Follow me.”

  They left the hall and made their way to a small room at the far end of the corridor.

  Inside, a man was engrossed in a book. He looked up at his visitors with obvious annoyance.

  “Vincent, this young man wants to link his inventory.”

  The man’s face immediately softened.

  “Give me your badge; I’ll have it set up in no time.”

  While Vincent worked on the setup, Kel idly scanned the data of the people in the room.

  Nothing interesting. Just a mage and an adventurer.

  As Kel well remembered from the game, there were plenty of classes: mage, warrior, adventurer, cleric… Each class had a level from one to a hundred. Reaching a certain level granted a corresponding rank. But levels across classes weren’t equal. A level 20 mage could easily outmatch a level 50 adventurer. A level 50 hero could take on an 80-level warrior.

  One thing caught Kel’s attention. He turned to Vincent.

  “Tell me – if I lose the badge, will I lose access to the inventory?”

  “Yes,” the mage confirmed. “Only mages, clerics, and heroes have enough power to hold an inventory in their own mana. Everyone else needs a magical binding. And the badge – the Adventurer’s Heart – is a perfect choice. That’s it. Give it a try.”

  Vincent returned the badge to Kel. He took it in his hand and spoke:

  “Inventory.”

  Of course, inside it was completely empty.

  “Excuse me, I’ll just borrow this.”

  Kel grabbed a sheet of paper from the mage’s desk and slipped it into his inventory. Then he pulled it back out. No problems at all.

  Almost at the entrance, the administrator suddenly addressed him.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Kelmir. We are extremely proud of the title of Adventurer–and everything it gives us.”

  She gave him a disapproving stare. Kel kept smiling pleasantly, pretending not to understand.

  “I’m proud of the title of Adventurer too,” he said.

  “Then why did you take off our uniform?!”

  Kel leaned in slightly and whispered conspiratorially:

  “You see… I just thought it didn’t go with the color of my eyes.”

  It looked like the administrator was ready to tear him apart. Fortunately, the exam for rank promotion was scheduled to take place in another city.