Coughing profusely, Krey set down his mug.
"A date?"
"It's a holiday today, so the library is closed. Why don't we spend the day at the town hall?" Alison replied, her tone casual with a hint.
"Are you sure that's okay? Did you ask your father?"
"Don't worry, his caretaker is in today. But I'd like to return early—I don't want to be out too late."
"Well, I suppose I should get changed, then. Can I have my clothes back? I'll return the ones you lend."
"Not yet, I'm still stitching the hem on your spare trousers. Hold onto those for now. They don't look terrible on you, anyway."
"Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later, then?"
They waved their goodbyes, and Krey returned to his sparse new residence. He stood before the wrapped form of his mentor for a moment, feeling a little foolish as he explained, somewhat awkwardly, that he was going on a date—whatever that actually entailed.
Soon, he arrived in the bustling heart of the Kingdom of Graswald. A date. Krey was going on a date. The concept felt foreign, but the reality was standing beside him. A stunning beauty dressed in exquisite, yellow attire.
"So, what do you think we should do?" Krey asked, shifting his weight.
He carried only his adventurer's card and a few silver coins he'd grabbed when changing clothes, having wisely left his sword behind at the library.
"How about you start by praising my dress?" Alison playfully suggested.
Putting a hand to his head, Krey gave an awkward, apologetic bow.
"Ah, okay. Your dress looks very good on you... I suppose? It's very... bright."
She sighed and fixed him with a flat glare.
"Forget it, the moment's passed. You're hopeless. Let's just look around, shall we?"
She confidently took his hand and guided him through the bustling market, where merchants loudly promoted discounts. Although Krey was generally indifferent to the various trinkets, some items intrigued him.
They paused at one stall where a simple game was set up. a shooting game, with small wooden logs off a shelf with a cushioned-tip arrow and a small, slightly warped wooden bow.
"Hello there, dear customers!" called a fat, cheerful old woman, rubbing her hands together.
"Would you like to give it a try? Test your eye and win a prize!"
Alison looked at Krey with clear, unbridled excitement. Reluctantly, he sighed and fished out a single silver coin, tossing it to the woman. Inspecting the coin, her smile widened into a grin.
"Pleasure doing business! A silver grants you ten shots. Knock all six logs down and choose your reward!"
"Six logs and ten arrows—not a bad deal." Alison observed, already calculating.
She took the bow first, her posture elegant but her aim less so. She only managed to knock down two logs, leaving them with five shots left. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she handed the bow to Krey, gesturing pointedly at the array of colorful plush prizes.
In a moment of confidence, he smiled while aiming, but his composure faltered as the first two arrows missed their target. He eventually succeeded with the next few shots, yet one log still stood unscathed.
"Oh, too bad! You missed one. Would you like to try again? Fortune favors the persistent!" the vendor chuckled sympathetically.
Not wanting to leave empty-handed after spending the silver, and vaguely aware of Alison's hopeful gaze, Krey tossed another coin. He drew the bow, this time aiming unusually high. The arrow arced and struck a log squarely.
"I knew it—the cushioning is throwing off the weight." he realized.
With this adjustment, he steadily whittled down the logs until only one remained, his growing success drawing a small crowd of amused onlookers. With the final shot in hand, he turned and offered the bow back to Alison.
"You take the last one. I know you can do it."
Nodding, she gracefully accepted the bow, pulled back the string with renewed focus, and took aim.
"Aim a little higher." Krey advised softly.
She adjusted her stance minutely, then released. A satisfying thud followed as the last log tumbled to the ground.
Alison threw her hands up in victory and, in a burst of impulsive delight, hugged Krey, cheering for herself.
"Good job! Now, what would you like as your reward?" the vendor asked, gesturing to the hanging prizes.
Beaming, Alison pointed to a cute, softly stuffed owl crafted from cloth.
"That one, please!"
"I see you have excellent taste! A wise choice." the woman said, unhooking the prize.
They strolled with an owl tucked under her arm, enjoying a lighter atmosphere, stopping occasionally to sample delicious street food such as spiced meat skewers and sweet pastries.
As they moved deeper into the market's labyrinth, a flash of familiar crimson fabric brushed past Krey's shoulder, halting him in his tracks. He turned and instantly spotted the young man clad in fragments of polished armor, the vivid crimson scarf wrapped securely around his neck.
"Alison, I think I saw something interesting this way." Krey said, subtly redirecting their path.
He quietly followed the crimson scarf through narrow spaces and around groups until they reached a quieter street with closed shops. Despite the lack of crowd cover, Krey continued, realizing that Samuel was following a group of three armed men acting with purpose.
As Krey stared intently, a sharp, prickling sensation crawled over his skin—the distinct, unsettling feeling of being watched.
He briefly paused his focused pursuit, noticing nothing unusual around him. Concerned for Alison, who was sweating and struggling to keep up, he recognized the potential danger of continuing further.
"S-slow down… you're going too fast." she grasped for air.
Krey looked back toward the alleyway where Samuel and the armed men had disappeared. Gritting his teeth, he guided Alison into the welcoming warmth of a nearby eatery.
"Sorry, I was just looking for this place." he explained, ushering her inside.
"Is that so?" she asked, catching her breath and looking around skeptically.
The shopfront displayed wooden signs listing names and menu items in flowing script. Though his reading had improved, Krey wasn't entirely confident in deciphering it all under pressure. Instead, he handed a few silver coins to Alison.
"Here. Go get yourself something to eat and rest for a minute."
"...Thank you?" she replied, a little puzzled but accepting the coins.
He took a seat by the window, keeping an eye on the street outside. A moment later, a familiar, looming shadow fell over him. Looking up, he found Nixsen grinning down at him, her arms full of parcels. She began making a series of elaborate, silent hand gestures, pointing emphatically between him and Alison at the counter.
"Oh my, you took her to such a fancy place. You must be in love." Her hands seemed to shout.
"You're talking crazy." Krey replied back using his hands.
"Don't be so coy. I saw how you held her hand when you gave her the coins." she gestured back, her smirk widening.
"Oh, shut up. Go away—you're interrupting."
"Interrupting? You really are such a romantic. I'm touched."
Alison, having finished ordering a small pie, watched their frantic, silent exchange from the counter with a blank face of sheer disbelief.
She finished her meal in a few quick, ravenous bites and stepped back outside into the cool air, deliberately catching Krey's eye. He quickly excused himself and followed.
Outside, they found Nixsen attempting to balance an absurd abundance of items, bulging sacks of herbs, stacked books, and various cloth-wrapped parcels threatening to spill from her arms.
"A little help?" she asked, her voice muffled behind a pile.
Krey and Alison each took a few items, lightening her load.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Alison asked Nixsen as they walked.
"Just shopping for a few necessities. Potions require ingredients, and research requires books. I am a witch, after all."
"...Can you tell me what a witch actually is?" Krey asked, falling into step beside them.
"You call yourself one, but you've never really explained it."
"You don't know what a witch is?" Alison asked, her surprise evident.
"I've seen adventurers and knights come through the castle gates all my life, but never anyone who dressed or acted quite like Nixsen."
"Basically... witches are individuals who can bend the natural laws of our world by exploiting specific loopholes. It's similar to how a vow works." Alison explained,
"...I see." Krey nodded in confusion.
Once they arrived at Nixsen's cluttered residence to drop off her purchases, Krey asked if he could use the relieving room. Nixsen pointed him down a short hall.
"Woah, this place is almost as big as my whole residence." he remarked, taking in the surprisingly spacious interior.
A heavy thud and a sharp cry were heard from the bathroom as Krey, after finishing his business, slipped on the wet floor while pulling up his trousers. He struck his head on the edge of the fancy tub, leading to unconsciousness, with the last image being the alarming faces of two women rushing to help.
As he began to swim back toward consciousness, a dull throbbing in his skull, he couldn't help but overhear a heated, whispered argument raging nearby.
"Why can't you do it? Aren't you a witch? Just heal him!"
"Like I said, my powers are very limited right now. My darling Alison, I'm sorry, but there's just nothing I can do for a concussion. I need specific components, time..."
"Hah! Stop lying. I've heard the stories from the guild halls—how you single-handedly defeated entire troops! There's no way your powers can't handle such a simple task. You did it for Krey before!"
"Krey's situation was different."
"Different? Different! How dare you spout such nonsense to me when he's lying there hurt because of your slippery floor—"
"I just can't okay..!"
The sound of a slap echoed throughout the room, which was followed up by rapid steps and the slamming of a door.