Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

Scarlett walked through the mansion, absentmindedly taking in the various expensive decors spread throughout the hallways as she passed by. A few days had gone by since her meeting with Gaven, but not much of note had happened since. She was still clearing the surrounding area’s low-level dungeons—collecting skill points and valuable items—so excitement wasn’t exactly on her itinerary at the moment, even after hiring Gaven’s services.

Those particular plans of hers would take a while to get moving.

Besides her dungeon farming, she had also communicated with Evelyne a lot these past few days, sending missives through a carrier service that made use of the Kilnstones.

There were magical items and artifacts that allowed direct communication over long distances in this world. The [Mirror of Communion] used by the Angler Man and the Hallowed Cabal was a prime example of this. But they were relatively rare—Scarlett wasn’t even sure if there were any that weren’t Zuverian—and from what she could tell, no one had set up a network with those to be used en masse. She knew for a fact that the Shields Guild had one for their own use, as did the Ustrum Assembly and some of the other influential groups across the empire, but the public had to make do, it appeared.

Not that it mattered much to her. The carrier services she’d been using to communicate with Evelyne were efficient enough for now. On occasion, she’d wondered if there wasn’t a promising business opportunity in trying to set up a communication network for the public somehow. But there probably was a reason something like that didn’t already exist. Most likely a mix between the rarity of the needed items and the complicated logistics such a venture required.

Eventually she’d no doubt try to get her hands on some artifacts like this for her private needs, but she would probably keep using the carrier services even then. They had the added benefit of transporting goods in addition to messages. A feature she had used to send over much of the loot she’d gathered to Evelyne in the capital, where the younger Hartford sister forwarded it to the auction houses and a few interested buyers.

Scarlett’s attention was caught as she passed by a window that gave a good view of the back part of the estate. Beyond the hedge garden hugging the mansion’s facade were the training grounds, where she saw Fynn running around between the target dummies like a madman.

The young man had been completely engrossed in training these past days, and Scarlett couldn’t quite understand why. At first, she had thought it had something to do with the run-in with Gaven and the somewhat unfair admonishment she’d given Fynn at the time. But that didn’t appear to be it. When she’d talked to him about the matter—also reminding him not to openly leak secrets and avoid destroying her property—she had gotten the impression it had to do with strength. For some reason, he was just intent on growing stronger as fast as possible right now.

To her, this came out of the left field. As had the fact that he was apparently already able to use [Claws of the Tempest]. In the game he didn’t learn that until level 50, which should theoretically—or as theoretical as one could be when trying to translate a game to the real world—be some time away from where he was currently.

She was still trying to figure out what had prompted this premature development in him. It didn’t feel like any of her actions up till now should have had much effect on his strength. The [Mark of the Gale] and dungeon-running were all things done in the game. But she wasn’t sure what else it could be.

One alternative was that there was some factor, unknown to her, that had changed. But it could just as well be another of those things where it simply differed from the game because of how things translated. Whatever it was, she was holding back her complaints for now. Getting a more powerful companion was a good thing.

She was just hoping he wouldn’t grow too fast.

Eventually, having entered the first floor of the west wing, Scarlett reached the far end of a corridor. A worn-out door stood before her, its frame showing signs of disrepair. The west wing was where much of the mansion staff lived, but it was also here some of the age of this place showed itself the most.

Grabbing hold of the door’s worn metal handle, she opened it to expose a tight set of stone stairs. They led down to a cellar area. The air had that chilly, slightly moist feel to it, common to underground places like these. The stone was also cold to the touch as she traced her hand along the wall, as not to lose her balance on her way down the steep decline.

The cellar itself wasn’t too large, comprising a short hallway with doors on both sides. Presumably storage rooms of some kind. Scarlett walked over to the closest of the doors and opened it, revealing a simple stone room. Packs of crates lay strewn along the walls, and two long tables stood at the center of the room with a range of odd tools and items placed on them. Placed under one of the tables was an open crate filled with a dozen varieties of vessels made of stone and metal.

Between the two tables stood Allyssa, brown leather goggles covering her eyes as the blonde girl turned towards the entrance. She was wearing a simple set of brown clothes and a thick apron with dark splodges on it.

Scarlett scrunched up her nose at the thick smell that wafted to her with a gust of wind. She looked to a small set of windows at the top of the far wall, lending a view of the western side of the estate. The windows were open to allow for some fresh air, but it clearly wasn’t enough to combat the smell.

“Oh, you were coming here?” Allyssa’s muffled voice sounded out as she pulled down a piece of cloth covering her mouth. “I thought I was supposed to go find you later.”

Scarlett shifted her attention to the young Shielder. This morning she’d said that they should talk more about what Allyssa could do with her alchemy, now that the girl had had time to get things set up here in the mansion. Originally, Scarlett had intended to discuss it in the office, but she’d found herself curious about how things looked down here, now that Allyssa was actually performing her craft. As such, she’d decided to pay a visit herself.

Although she hadn’t quite expected the smell to be this strong. She might have to change clothes later if it stuck to them.

“I had time to spare, so there is no need to fret,” she said, eyes passing over a row of vials that stood on one of the tables. They all contained dark liquids of a few different colors, some of which looked similar to what she’d seen Allyssa use during their various excursions. “I heard from Garside that you have yet to use any of the alchemical ingredients he offered, choosing to first exhaust your own supplies. Is that correct?”

“Ehm, yeah, that’s true.” Allyssa pushed up her goggles and reordered the frayed locks of hair jumbled by the action. “You said that it was ok if I focused on refilling my own supply before I made anything else, so that’s what I’ve been focusing on... But it didn’t feel right using what you gave me for that. And I still had some stuff left from Elystead, so I wanted to use that up first.”

“Does that not limit you in what you can make? Garside spent quite some time compiling all of that.” Scarlett walked over to stand next to Allyssa, gently running her finger over the side of a triangular piece of metal on the closest table. The odd piece of equipment had three depressions on its face, with strange lines and symbols running between them. She recalled that this was an item you had used in the game when performing alchemy, though the true purpose of it evaded her. “My understanding is that he acquired a wide range of materials that would be useful for someone of your craft. You are more than welcome to make full use of it, even when it is for your own use. While you are under my employ, any improvement to your capabilities in the field benefits me as well.”

For some reason Allyssa looked as if that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Scarlett felt like she had made it clear on more than one occasion that she fully intended to support the young woman in her craft. The potential signified by it held a lot of interest to her, after all.

Although, considering the invoice for all the materials Garside had gathered totaled several thousand solars, perhaps Allyssa’s reaction made sense. While that amount was basically nothing in the grand scheme of things—especially to some nobles—it was a good sum of money to ordinary people. It was a decent amount to Scarlett at the moment too. They were still in the process of selling many of the items and artifacts she was collecting. But she had enough cash at hand right now for this much, at least.

“I’ll...remember that in the future,” Allyssa said. “But I’ve already finished most of what I needed to do for myself. There are still some potions and elixirs that I haven’t had the time or materials to create, like the Philter of Ire’s Decay, but I should be fine for now. If there’s anything special you wanted me to try and create, I could probably get started on it soon.”

Scarlett nodded. “That is, in fact, what I wished to speak with you about. However, I am uncertain what the limits of your capabilities are, so I do not know exactly what I can request.”

“Well…” Allyssa wore a careful expression. “I don’t really talk much with real alchemists, outside of a couple of my mom’s old friends, so I don’t know how I would compare to others. I think I would at least be considered on the same level as an Alchemist Adept in most towers? Maybe?”

Scarlett knitted her brow. The alchemical ranking system wasn’t something she was acquainted with. If it was anything like the system that mages used though, an Adept was probably a step or two above a Novice, which in turn was a step above a complete beginner. “I am unfamiliar with the practices of alchemists, so that does not tell me much. Would you be capable of creating healing potions, as an example?”

Allyssa's brow wrinkled as she considered it. “It depends on the level? I usually don’t create those because the materials are so expensive, but I can make at least some minor ones. I know how to make ordinary ones, but I’m not completely sure I’d succeed. It could be a waste to even try.”

Scarlett frowned. In the game, the prefixes for potions and the like went Lesser -> Minor -> None -> Greater -> Superior -> Major -> Argent. [Minor Healing Potions] and [Healing Potions] were weaker than she would have wanted at this point, looking at it from a purely game perspective. [Greater Healing Potion] was more along the lines of what she’d hoped for. From what she had learned, just one of those cost thousands of solars—even if one didn’t already have a poor relationship with one of the major suppliers—so having Allyssa be able to make them for her at a lower price would have been amazing.

That the young woman might only create [Healing Potions], at best, was a shame.

But who knows? Maybe ordinary healing potions were more effective than she thought. It wasn’t as if Scarlett had actually tried any yet in this world. It was certainly better than nothing.

Hopefully they’d never need them, though. That was what Rosa was for.

“You may attempt to create some regular healing potions,” she said. “As many as you deem reasonable. In addition, I would like you to compile a list of concoctions you are currently capable of, so that I can decide what might prove useful in the future.”

Allyssa gave her a curious look. “Are these all for your personal use?”

“They are, yes. Although if I were to sell any of your concoctions, I would ensure that you receive part of the profits as well.”

“No, that’s not really what I was aski—” A powerful gust of wind suddenly rushed in from the open windows, blowing a pile of loose papers laying on the table into the air.

“Agh, nonono!” Allyssa cried out as she whirled around, pushing the papers back on the table. Some of them had just been about to fly into a tiny cauldron with a sludgy brown solution in it. The young Shielder let out another short cry as the wind increased in strength, some of the loose vials and other tools in the rooms rattling against each other.

Scarlett narrowed her eyes at the window as the chilly breeze pushed against her skin, making the hairs on her arms stand up. It was increasing in strength frighteningly fast. By the time she reached the windows the wind had almost grown to a level where she only barely managed to force them shut.

“What’s happening?” Allyssa asked with a bewildered tone behind her. “Is there a storm outside? I didn’t even think that was possible here in the southwest.”

“It is not,” Scarlett muttered, peering out through the glass. All storms in this region were supposed to be drawn out south into the Innisling Sea, where the Broken Tower was, before they even formed. A storm around Freybrook was essentially impossible, as far as she knew. That, coupled with the fact that it was still bright and sunny outside, lent to a storm not being the cause for all this wind.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t natural. And it was enough to cause the trees outside the estate’s stone walls to sway heavily, small clouds of dust blowing up along the gravel pathways inside the walls. It looked to originate from somewhere behind the mansion.

“Come,” she said, turning around and walking towards the door, not leaving much room for Allyssa to ask anything else. Exiting into the enclosed cellar, she hurriedly climbed up the narrow staircase to the first floor and moved through the hallways towards the center of the mansion. On the way, they passed by a few of the staff who were curiously observing the strange phenomenon outside.

Now some of the smaller trees were even rocking back and forth to the level where it looked like some of them might break.

The two of them ran into Shin as they passed through the mansion’s foyer. The young man had apparently had the gumption to retrieve his strange-looking sword and the large, rectangular shield from Temisbrook Glade that Scarlett had lent him. He wordlessly stepped in behind them, and soon they reached the mansion’s back entrance, exiting into the hedge garden outside.

“What in Ittar’s name is happening?!” Allyssa cried out beside Scarlett. Both of them were forced to keep their hair in check against the winds that violently pushed at them.

A growing premonition wormed its way into the forefront of Scarlett’s mind as the three of them fought their way through the cyclone of currents, beyond the garden, and in the direction of where all this seemed to originate. Soon, the training grounds came into view.

Debris of wood and small stone had been spread around in an array of chaotic mayhem. The wooden targets were ripped apart at their limbs, and the shed at the end of the grounds had lost half of its roofing, with more planks threatening to tear off at any moment. At the heart of all this, sitting at the eye of the storm, was Fynn. Hunched together like a blanching beast. Even from this distance, the viridescent glow surrounding him stood out clear as day.

“Damn...” Scarlett swore, not even caring about the presence of two Shielders beside her.

This wasn’t good.

Fynn was experiencing his first awakening.