Saito nodded, and received Derflinger.
Two figures watched Louise and Saito leave the weapons shop – Kirche and Tabitha. Kirche watched the two from the shadows of the streets, fiercely biting her lip. “Louise the Zero… trying to warm your relationship with Saito with a sword, huh? Striking out with gifts so quickly after finding out he’s my prey? What the heck?” Kirche stamped the ground in anger. Tabitha, her job done, was reading as usual. Sylphid circled around the skies above them. They had followed the two here soon after they'd spotted them.
Kirche waited for them to walk far away, and immediately ran into the weapons shop. The shopkeeper stared at Kirche as if he couldn’t believe it. “Whoa… another noble? What the hell is going on today?”
“Hey there, boss…” Kirche played with her hair, a charming smile in her lips. The shopkeeper’s face turned deep red under the sudden seduction.
“Do you happen to know what that noble bought not long ago?”
“A s-sword… she bought a sword.”
“I see… so she did get him a sword… what kind of sword?”
“A d-dirty and rusty one.”
“Rusty? Why?”
“Because she didn’t bring enough money.”
Kirche laughed, her hand to her chin. “She went broke! Vallière! Your Duke’s house will cry for this!”
“Uh… is my lady here to buy a sword, too?” The shopkeeper perked up, not willing to let go of the chance. This noble looks racked and rich compared to that tiny one.
“Hmm… show me your best.”
The man walked inside, brushing his hands in excitement. He returned, of course, with the broadsword he just showed to Saito.
“Ahh… a very well-made sword!”
“You have a good eye, my lady. That noble not so long ago had a servant that really wanted this one, but it’s too much for them.”
“Is that so?” The noble’s servant? So Saito wants this!
“Of course… this sword is made by the famous Germanian alchemist Lord Shupei after all. It can cut through metal like butter because of the magic infused in it! See this inscription here?” The shopkeeper repeated what he had said before.
Kirche nodded. “How much?”
The shopkeeper asked for more, seeing how Kirche looked a lot richer, “Hmm… for new gold coins, 4500.”
“Hmm… that’s a bit pricey.” Kirche frowned.
“Well… great swords need to be paid for their worth, you know?”
Kirche thought for a while, slowly moving her body towards the shopkeeper. “Boss… isn’t this just a bit expensive?” Upon being caressed at the throat, the salesman suddenly lost his breath. Temptations hit his mind.
“Uh… but… great swords are…”
Kirche sat on the counter, raising her left thigh. “Isn’t the price a bit too high ?” She slowly raised her left foot onto the counter. The salesman’s eyes irresistibly stared at her thighs.
“Th-that’s right… then… 4000 new gold…”
Kirche raised her thigh further so that he could almost see in between them.
“Ah… nonono, 3000 would do…”
“It’s getting hot in here…” Kirche ignored him, only opening her shirt’s buttons. “I feel really hot in here. Help me take off my shirt, please…” She threw her most attractive expression at him.
“Ah… I got it wrong, I got it wrong… it’s 2500!”
Kirche took off one button, and looked up at the shopkeeper.
“1800! 1800’s fine!”
Another button, exposing her cleavage. She looked at him again.
“Hey, 1600 will do!”
Kirche stopped with her buttons, and turned her attention to her skirt instead, raising it just so little. The man looked like he could not take any more.
“How does 1000 sound?” she suggested, slowly lifting her skirt more. He looked like he was about to hyperventilate.
And then she stopped. His rapid breathing turned to a sorrowful moan.
“Oh… ohhhhh…”
Kirche straightened herself out, and asked again, “1000.”
“Oh! 1000 will be fine!”
Kirche stepped down from the counter, quickly wrote a check, and slapped it on the counter. “Bought!” She then picked up the sword and left the shop, leaving the salesman to stare at her check.
After a moment, he suddenly regained consciousness, holding his head. “DAMMIT! I SOLD THAT BABY FOR JUST 1000?!” He took a bottle of liquor from his cabinet. “Ohh… I’m done for today…”
Chapter Four: Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt
In Tristain, there was a mage thief by the name of “The Crumbling Dirt,” who had every noble in the country cowering in fear. This one's full name was Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt.
When Fouquet heard that a noble in the North had a jeweled crown, he would go all the way there to steal it. When Fouquet heard that a noble in the South had a staff bestowed by the king as a family treasure, he broke through walls to steal it. In the East, none of the best pearl rings by the artisans of the White Islands remained in any mansion. Fouquet also eagerly took possession of a priceless bottle of well-aged wine from a winery in the West. The thief was everywhere.
Fouquet's tactics range from stealthy infiltration to outright breaking in. The national bank had been attacked in broad daylight, and houses were silently frequented in the depth of night. In any case, Fouquet's tactics simply left the royal mage guards in the dust.
Fouquet was identified only by the use of alchemy to enter targeted rooms, turning doors and walls to dirt and sand, then walking through the gaping holes. The nobles were not stupid, of course, they had tried to magically “solidify” everything around their treasure in an attempt to stop the alchemy, but Fouquet's magic was simply too strong, nullifying everything, fortified or not, into dirt.
If Fouquet decided on breaking the way in, a 30-mail tall dirt golem was used. Tossing aside mage guards and shattering castle walls, it let him boldly take prizes in broad daylight.
No one had ever seen Fouquet’s appearance up close. Nobody even knew for sure whether he was a man or a woman. All they knew is that Fouquet was an earth mage of at least Triangle class, that he left insulting notes, such as “I got your treasure. –-Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt” at every robbery scene, and that he preferred treasures and artifacts of great magical power.
Two huge moons shone down on the walls outside the fifth floor of the Academy of Magic, which encased a treasure room. The light stretched out a shadow, standing straight against the walls. Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt.
Fouquet’s green, long hair moved with the wind, and Fouquet briskly stood, openly showing the figure that strikes fear in all the nobles of the country.
Pressing a foot against the wall, Fouquet felt the wall’s power and could not help but admire it. The main tower of the Academy is as strong as it looks… is a physical attack really its only weakness? I can’t break through something this thick without attracting attention. It was not hard for an expert in earth magic like Fouquet to check a wall’s thickness with their feet, but breaking a wall was completely different. It looks like they used only hardening spells on it, but I can’t even break this with a golem. It’s got a very strong hardening spell… my alchemy won't do much.
“Damn it… and I already got this far.” The thief's teeth grit in frustration. “I’m not leaving the Staff of Destruction, no matter what.” Fouquet crossed his arms and went into deep concentration.