Chương 37: Buying Suspicious Ingredients, No Questions Please!

By the time morning arrived, Lio was already dressed and downstairs before either of the other two had even stirred. William came down twenty minutes later looking like he'd just been through a hurricane. His unruly hair was pointing in all four different directions, his jacket was inside out, and he was squinting so hard that he was basically blind, stumbling this way and that.

Ophila also arrived shortly after, her long hair having been tied into that northern style she seemed to like wearing it in, eating a small piece of baked bread and salted meat she'd scavenged somewhere. William looked at the bread, gulping.

"Where did you get that?"

"The old man has a kitchen," she said, gesturing over.

"Huh…" William nodded blearly. Then, he turned around and went in the direction Ophila pointed at. He returned four minutes later with three pieces of toast.

"He said it was fine," William announced, handing one more to Ophila and one to Lio. They ate standing outside the lodge amidst the morning crowd, watching Trestfall's morning routine. Like Crater City, it woke up early, the market stalls were already open, vendors were already calling out prices, and the smell of something cooking was already starting.

"Right," William said, finishing his toast.

"What are we buying today?"

"Everything we need for our descent," Lio said, and started walking. Their first stop was an apothecary near the northern end of the market, its fungal shelves packed tightly with dried compounds, pressed plants, and small labeled vials. The owner was a thin woman with a constant mildly irritated expression. Lio immediately went to the front counter without even bothering with browsing.

"Some Angel's Cornel spores," he said.

"I need them dry too, not pressed." The woman looked up, raising an eyebrow.

"A couple of Felonwart root tinctures as well," he continued.

"Prepare them cold, not reduced. If you've already reduced it, it's useless to me." She set her pen down slowly, her raised eyebrow continuing to go even higher.

"And Mirethis gum." This time, he scanned the shelf himself until he found it, and placed it on the counter.

"This batch is perfectly fine." The woman frowned.

"The Felonwart roots with cold preparation?" She shook her head.

"That's not a common request. And it'll lose its already mediocre medicinal properties if you use that method."

"I know," Lio said.

"Are you really sure?"

"Of course," Lio confirmed again. She held his gaze for a moment, then went to the back to retrieve them without another word. Behind him, William had picked up the small labeled vial and was squinting at it.

"What's Mirethis gum?"

"Put it down," Lio said.

"I'm just reading—""Even if it's in glass, the gum will dissolve your fingerprints if you hold it too long," Lio said. Startled, William set it down immediately, proceeding to wipe his hand aggressively on his pants. Meanwhile, Ophila had drifted away from both of them, moving along the opposite shelf with her hands clasped behind her back, browsing the selections. She picked up a small dark bottle and a flat pressed sheet, holding them both up to the light, then shook her head, setting them back down.

William cocked his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Ophila said, picking up and then setting down a small clay container.

"You keep picking things up."

"They're all so interesting," she said, disappearing behind a particularly large shelf full of preserved fruits. William frowned.

"Really?" There was no reply. Soon, the owner returned with the Felonwart tincture and Angel's Cornel spores. Setting it on the counter, she watched as Lio added two more items without comment, a flat bundle of some thin papery material from the very bottom of a shelf, and a small twist of a dried black root.

"That root…" the woman said.

"Isn't that the roots from a Flet Cabbage? I didn't even know I still had that. They don't harvest it anymore, you know."

"I know," Lio said.

"But I can't imagine why you possibly need it. The King's Cabbage's root is much better," she said.

"You want some of the King's instead?"

"No," Lio refused.

"I need the roots of a Flet." She glared at him for a long moment.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Seventeen," Lio said. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Are you being scammed? Did someone weird tell you to buy all these things—""No." The woman was startled quiet at the sudden refusal. Then, after a long moment of just staring at Lio, finally took to ringing everything up, having seemingly decided that the argument wouldn't be worth it. Ophila appeared at the counter a moment later, setting down a small bundle of her own selections. Bundles of clean cloth, pressed fungi great at sealing wounds, antiseptic compounds, and finally, a couple of spare bandage rolls.

She also set down one more thing. It was a small flat stone—pale, grey, and ugly. The owner glanced at it.

"That's not labeled. I don't even know what that is."

"That's alright," Ophila said pleasantly.

"I'll take it anyway." The owner looked at her, then sighed, ringing it up for a single copper Rel without pursuing the matter any further. William strode forward last, having picked up a large and impressive looking knife from a display near the door and confidently placed it on the counter.

"I like to get—""Put that back," Lio said, not even looking at him as he gathered up his newly bought supplies.

"But—""You don't even know how to use it," Lio said.

"I could learn!" William protested.

"I said to put it back." Grumbling, William set the knife back in its original spot with great reluctance, casting one final longing look at it as they left the apothecary. Their second stop was a provisions merchant Lio knew was credible, his stall stacked high with preserved food, dried meat, and sealed tins of various edibles. Lio quickly bought three weeks worth of provisions, calculated based on their expected timeline of the descent to Floor 15, factoring in an additional four days as contingency.

He also picked up two extra waterskins, a set of thin wire coils in three different gauges, and a small hand tool for working wire into specific configurations. Ophila added more medical supplies to the pile without having to be asked, moving through the merchant's stock efficiently. She picked up a small bottle of something that smelled strongly of pine resin, and added it to the pile. Meanwhile, William bought some more dried Ironpulp strips.

"That's not a supply," Ophila told him.

"It's a morale supply," William said, happily stuffing his mouth. Their third stop was an equipment merchant whose stall was larger than the others, its goods arranged across multiple hanging racks and flat display tables. Lio bought a sharpening tool sized specifically for the Adamantine knife's unusual composition, a second crude backup blade, three replacement lamp wicks, and two full containers of lamp oil.

He also spent a considerable amount of time at a small side table containing what appeared to be miscellaneous oddities, picking through them with a careful eye. He selected a flat piece of dark stone the size of his palm, with a faint iridescent quality to its surface. He quickly added it to his pile without explanation. William watched, slightly confused.

"What's that for?"

"Navigation," Lio said.

"I don't know if you can see it," William said, incredulous.

"But that's a rock."

"It is," Lio agreed, and moved on without further comment. Ophila also bought a new lamp, smaller and more efficiently designed than her current one, with a better oil seal that would extend the burn time significantly. She also found a spool of the same colorful thread she used for her stitching and added it to her pack.

Their final stop was a small stall at the market's edge run by an elderly man selling overripe fruit at a steep discount, his regular customers apparently not sharing Lio's appreciation for fermented Amberpulp. Lio bought everything the man had, twelve pieces in total, wrapping each one carefully in separate cloth before packing them away. The elderly man sold the fruits with an expression of mild bewilderment.

By the time they were done, the morning was now midday, the spore-light overhead being at its warmest and brightest. William looked at the huge pile of their purchases with wide eyes.

"We bought a lot of stuff."

"Yes," Lio said.

"How much did all of this cost?" Lio counted what remained of the gambling money, then tucked the coins away.

"Not much," he said. Well, that was a complete lie. He had spent nearly all of it. Ophila looked at him sideways, chuckled softly, but said nothing. William shrugged his pack, wincing as his ribs acted up.

"Right, right. So are we done shopping?"

"Yes," Lio said. He began walking.

"Let's go back to the lodge." They drifted back through the market, the midday crowd thick and crowding around them. William had gotten out the Ironpulp strips he so loved, while Ophila was tinkering with the spool of thread she had bought, playing with the loose ends. Lio was looking around at the various stalls, when his gaze stopped at a small patch of empty ground. He frowned. Wasn't there supposed to be a stall there? Of course, it was just a small thing.

But it didn't excuse the fact that a stall that should have been there, simply wasn't. Had Ophila's butterfly effect gone so far as to even change minor things like this? Lio looked at it for a moment. Then he looked away and kept walking, just when— A shrill and loud scream split the air. It couldn't be, right? But having to make sure, Lio was already running, weaving past the thick crowds, heading directly for the source of the noise. The crowd jostled at him, banging against his shoulders and knees.

But Lio continued, his eyes and legs only focused on going forward. Behind him he heard both William's and Ophila's startled voices. But when he offered no reply, they simply scrambled to follow him. The crowd had already begun gathering by the time they arrived, a cluster of people consisting mainly of Trestfall residents all pressed around the entrance of a small building two streets from the market's edge. There was a clear difference in their expressions as well.

The ones in the back were craning their necks to get a better view, while the ones in the front were already backing away with pale faces, looking just about ready to hurl. Lio pushed and shoved himself unceremonially through the crowd, until he reached the very front. A few seconds later, Ophila and William also came through behind him. And then all three of them stopped at the sight before them. Lio's lips twitched. How truly grotesque…

The sight before them was of a young woman with billowing blonde hair, seated behind the counter of a small flower shop, hands folded neatly on the surface in front of her. She seemed to exude a regal, noble air, like a symbol of elegance. Of course, that would be the case only if she wasn't dead. The most noticeable traits were the streams of blood that had dried in thin dark lines from her eyes, her nose, her ears, tracing careful paths down her face.

Her eye sockets had been stripped of the eyeballs, instead, now packed with small pale flowers. More flowers filled the hollow of her throat where her collar had been folded back and pinned open. Beside him, William made a strangled sound and turned away entirely, his hand pressed over his mouth. Ophila grimaced, biting her lower lip as she continued staring at the horrible sight. Lio, meanwhile, was more focused on the flowers stuffed inside the dead woman's body. Ghostly Annies.

The same flowers that grew at the base of the Pillar stalks on Floor 1. At the recognition, the corner of Lio's lips curved upwards, to form a small smile. What are you doing here?