Thief of Time

“Hello, master.” Claud let out a mysterious grin as he entered. “I’m back. And there are some people behind me.”

“Some people?” the bartender asked. His eyes turned into slits a moment later as they registered the newcomers, before turning towards Claud. “What’s the meaning of this? Why do you bring fearless fools into my life-loving establishment?”

“They’ll like to make an apology,” Claud replied.

The bartender froze. “I thought you said apology, but might you repeat what you just said?”

“You didn’t hear wrongly.” Claud sat down on his usual seat. “Apple juice, please. You ladies should order something too. Or else you’ll make the good master worried. Here’s the menu.”

He stuck a tongue out at the bartender, who had a grin on his face, and then slid the menu over. Most of the drinks in cheap shops were made with some questionable elements and then watered down with expired grape juice. The bartender, who he had helped with a little errand years ago, had told him the truth about those drinks, which was why he drank apple juice and apple juice only.

“What will you ladies have?” the bartender asked, his face a mask of neutrality.

“A…peach cocktail.”

“A glass of champagne.”

“A glass of water.”

Claud inwardly winced at that last order, and then said a prayer to the Moons for that poor woman’s tastebuds. The only water that was sold in places like these were the kind that was flammable and nothing else. In fact, it had so much alcoholic content that even the tongue would be numb from simply coming into contact with it. Whispering a few heartfelt condolences in his mind to the woman named Risti, he turned his face to the left and tried to hide a smile.

“Whoa, why you are here?” Claud asked.

Isolde had appeared on his left side at some point in time, and her face was rather close to his. “Don’t move.”

“Huh?”

“Hmm…” She looked at the bartender, who was staring at her too. “I’ll have apple juice.”

Claud felt the bartender’s gaze fall on him, and then shook his head.

“Alright, apple juice for this little missy. Coming right up.” Shaking up two cocktails, he slid them over to Farah and Lily, before pouring out a glass of unbelievably pure water for Risti, who inspected it a few times with interest.

The trio’s face changed after taking a sip, only for the bartender to look at them with a polite expression.

“Is it to your liking?” he asked.

Farah slammed a fist onto the table. “To the Moons with—mmmh!”

A hand shot out to cover Farah’s mouth, and Isolde smiled at the bartender. “There should be no issue. My sister here has been spoiled, so I must really apologise for her very rude behaviour. She has never been disciplined for mouthing off to the elders, and this has carried over to her adulthood. I humbly ask your apology.”

Farah struggled for a few more seconds, before she went limp. Lily, who was eyeing her glass with a rueful smile, took the chance to pour the contents of her glass into Farah’s mouth, before placing it back onto the counter with a smile.

Claud and the bartender stared at her for a moment, before the duo broke out into laughter.

“You, girlie, are one very interesting person.” The bartender leaned forward. “You behave like someone in my trade. What family do you four come from?”

“It’s a — hic — secret.” Risti slid off her chair, walked over to Isolde, and then stuffed her face into Isolde’s rather ample chest. Snoring followed a few moments later, and while the others were distracted, Claud moved his head closer to the bartender.

“Master,” he whispered, “I never really asked, but how pure is that ‘water’ of yours?”

“Ninety-eight percent,” he replied proudly. “Only the strongest people can drink it without issue. Wimps like you that get off on apple juice need not apply. I must say, though, that lady’s really brave…”

“She went for what she saw the safest option,” Claud whispered back. “Don’t delude yourself, master. She definitely saw through the dangers of the other drinks, but she didn’t expect the water to be of the intoxicating, flammable kind.”

“What are you two talking about?” Isolde asked.

“Nothing.” The bartender pulled back, returning a few moments later with two glasses of apple juice. Claud took one of them, and under the suspicious gaze of Isolde, downed it in one gulp, before smacking his lips.

“Not bad. Right, I ran out of apple juice. Send some barrels to my apartment.” Claud took out a small lifestone and tossed it at the bartender, who caught it on the spot.

“Sure. Looks like you got a good harvest today,” the bartender replied.

“I was out prospecting the whole day and got lucky,” Claud replied. “Then I came across a disturbance at the gate…did you know what happened? I heard a robbery happened, but I’m not sure about the details.”

The bartender’s eyes glittered as Claud mouthed at him to play along.

“Well,” said the bartender, “I heard that a mob assaulted a caravan mere minutes after it left Licencia. Soldiers and mercenaries were dispatched, but not much of the goods were recovered, since most of the looters had Quick Sprint.”

“I see. Well, it’s a tad shocking to hear about news like this happening right outside our doorstep,” Claud replied, a knowing smile on his face. “Was there anything interesting about the looting?”

“No, not really.” The bartender yawned. “Right, about that apology. Apology accepted. But please don’t pull a sword on me next time. I have a weak heart.”

“My apologies,” Isolde said, while freeing herself from Risti. “Like I said, my sister is a spoilt brat.”

Farah muttered something, and then rolled her face around the counter. Claud didn’t have the heart to tell any of them that the counter’s surface was roughly as dirty as the road outside; the ash-grey surface was made from hardened dirt, vomit, tears and dust.

“Alright, then. Now, most customers who come here usually have other things beyond a drink,” said the bartender. “What do you want to know?”

Isolde looked at the others. Only one of her sisters, Lily, was left, and Claud didn’t have much of an impression about her. What was she like? The four of them had very amus— interesting personalities; the master thief didn’t believe, even for a moment, that this Lily was just a normal little flower.

To his disappointment, however, she hadn’t said anything. Rather, Isolde was the one to respond to the bartender, and while the two exchanged openings, Claud wondered if he should also get some flammable water for Isolde.

After deciding that doing such a thing would go against his suave, dashing image, Claud returned his attention to the ongoing conversation.

“…that Tot is in this city?” the bartender asked. “I can mobilise my people, but it’ll be a waste of your money if you aren’t entirely certain.”

“Money’s not an issue to us,” Isolde replied. “In fact, the more you can mobilise, the better.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“In a way, yes. The longer we take, the more possible it is for bi-folders or even tri-folders to make a move, at which point our time’s going to be wasted,” she replied. “This is a lucky break for us; there’s no point in such rewards going to say, a tri-folder.”

“True. But it’s not like we know what this Tot is like. From the news so far, he’s probably a vanilla, but that doesn’t discount his threat,” the bartender analysed. “In fact, he’s probably capable of killing a one-folder if given ample preparation, so even information gathering needs to be done carefully. And we still don’t know much about him so far, so you should be prepared to face even a mana-user.”

“Which means that we must be prepared to kill him…but I can’t have that happening,” Isolde mused.

Huh? What, do you want to capture me alive and parade me through the streets? Woman, you’re scaring me! Claud suppressed his urge to gulp and waited for the bartender’s inevitable question.

“Why would you want him alive?”

“I need him alive, or else I cannot show that there were other pure-rank lifestones on the day he struck,” said Isolde. “There are people who can read memories, and some of them are on the Emperor’s personal panel. They can show the truth.”

The bartender leaned forward. “Who are you, exactly?”

“You don’t need to know who we are,” Isolde replied. “Just know that I want him alive.”

Making a mental note to investigate noble families with quadruplets, Claud continued to listen. It didn’t take all that long for both sides to reach an arrangement, and Claud kept his ears peeled, memorising the bartender’s arrangements. He’d always known that there would be tracks leading towards Licencia, but the bartender was someone with a lot of experience in information gathering.

Against such an old hand, he couldn’t guarantee that if he didn’t know the bartender’s arrangements, he wouldn’t slip up. Now, the only issue remaining was the fact that the bartender didn’t know about him being a mana-user. What Claud needed to do was to let him know after this, and then cover his tracks a bit more.

But for now, avoiding discovery was the name of the game.