CHAPTER 18: RUSTY ANCHOR

After everyone in the squad split ways, I made my way into a lively evening market that seemed to be a hotspot in town during that hour.

There was a consistent and d never ending huk of voices, the sizzle of grills and the warm glow of Arcane energy powered lanterns swaying in the breeze. The air carried a distinct, mouth watering aroma of spiced meat and freshly baked bread.

My coin pouch was jingling slightly from the weight of the money I had as I gently weaved through the crowd, my mind drifting to my twin younger brothers waiting at home.

’What a nice evening to treat them to something special,’ I thought, as I pictured their faces lighting up over a proper meal stuffed with essential protein and nutrients. No stale bread or thin soup tonight, just good food and laughter.

After walking for a couple minutes, I stopped at a tavern called the Rusty Anchor, known for it’s hearty fare. I made a bee line for the where the vendor sat, noticing him as a bruly man with a flour dusted apron, he slid a tray of roasted chicken, golden and crispy, alongside a stack of steaming meat pies and a bowl of salted salad tossed with vibrant greenery.

I added a bottle of sweetened juice to the order too.

"That’ll be a total of 500 Urns," the vendor grunted, wiping his hands on a rag.

I dug into my coin pouch for a couple seconds and came up with the exact amount of the money I needed for payment.

The pouch didn’t even change in weight, and I appreciated that. I tucked the food under my arm and was about to turn and leave when something caught my eye. A flash of bone-white in the dim corner of the tavern.

There, seated among a rowdy group of five men, was a Reaper. I was able to tell by the badge strapped to his breast pocket gleaming faintly with a silver emblem, marking him as one of the elite licensed to hunt within the deadly realms of dimensional gates or dungeons.

But it was the badge that caught my gaze, I couldn’t care less about that. It was the weapon resting? casually against the Reaper’s chair: A pair of mid length twin daggers, their blades curved like predatory fangs. The surface was a striking bone white, threaded with faint, dark green veins that seem to pulsed faintly indicating that the blade was Arcane infused. The handles were wrapped for form grip, but the blades themselves looked raw, almost organic.

’Thats no ordinary weapon,’ I thought as I felt my heart race quicken. ’Probably a high level and it’d carve through a boss monster like hot knife through butter... ’

My chipped sword like a child’s toy in comparison to whatever that was. I needed those daggers, not wanted— Needed.

They were the kind of weapon that could keep up with my growing power.

Shrugging, I composed myself, straightening my shoulders and bolstering my ego, then matching towards the table. The men’s laughter and clinking mugs fell silent as they saw me approach, their eyes switching from a slit of laughter, to sizing me up. Without exchanging any pleasantries, I locked eyes with the Reaper, a broad shouldered man with a scarred jaw and a faint smirk.

"How much for the daggers?" I asked, my voice steady, despite the nervous thrum in my chest.

There was a second or two of utter silence, then the table broke out in laughter, loud and obviously mocking. The Reaper chuckled, he was indeed amused but not laughing over the top like the other men.

He leaves back, crossing his arms, his badge glinting as he looked at me up she down then hissed.

"Tch... What’s this? A scrawny kid like you, talking to an A-Rank Awakened Reaper like that?" He said, this time his voice void of any form of amusement. The men around him erupted in another frenzy of laughter, one if them slapping the table a little too hard it cracked a bit.

"Go back to your mama, boy. You can’t afford to polish these blades, let alone buy ’em."

There it was again— Yet another person not taking me seriously because of my appearance.

My jaw tightened, refusing to flinch or show any sign of weakness. I could definitely feel the Reaper’s aura now, it was heavy, oppressive and it pressed against my senses, confirming the man was leagues above me in power.

But I didn’t care about that, those daggers were my ticket to the next level, to protecting those I love and value, to prove that I was more than an unclassified Awakened scraping by.

"Frankly, I don’t care what rank you are," I said with a cold and unwavering voice. "I want those blades... Name your price."

The laughter instantly died down, replaced by a tense silence. The Reaper’s smirk shifted and his eyes narrowed to a slit as he studied me. The other men exchanged glances inquisitively probably wandering to themselves: Who the fuck is this chicken bone kid talking to?.

But I held my ground, even though my heart was pounding through my chest.

"Leave with dignity while you can brat," the Reaper finally said, waving a dismissive hand. "You’re wasting my time."

I stood there, still staring down at him. "I’m rooted where I stand... Name your price."

The Reaper leaned forward, his scarred jaw twitching as he rested his elbows on the table. "You’ve got guts... Kid, I’ll give you that." He said, his voice low and edged with intent.

"But these daggers? They don’t go to just anyone with a few coins. You want ’em right? You’ll have to earn ’em." He stood, slowly towering over me till his shadow consumed my presence.

He proceeded to take the blades and gently sheath them in their place beside his waist.

"We duel in a heads up clash of Awakened talent, you win the daggers is yours. You loose..." His smirk returned, sharp as those bone white blades. "Well, you won’t be walking away to try again... I’d have an excuse to kill a skinny twerp like you".

My breath hitched, what was this guy onto? He wasn’t trying to bargain, he was trying to take my life! The smile on his face wasn’t reflecting overwhelming confidence and amusement — No. This Reaper loved taking human life!

But if I back down now, the whole charade I put up till this point would be for nothing. I’ve faced death more times than I can count, this is just the same except that it’s a human that is intelligent and much more stronger than I am.

"... Name your location...".

We’re the next words that came out of my mouth, at this point everyone in the Rusty Anchor were listening in on what was going on and my words caused the entire place to gasp in shock.

"...I see, you must really want this blades brat. I’ll tell you what, two days from now, the abandoned boarding school down the slushy terrain... If you’re going to try to take my blades, might as well teach you a lesson in respect."

I nodded once and turned on my heel, striding out of the tavern, feeling the man’s stares burning into the back of my neck. My hands trembling slightly as I gripped the food parcel.

’Urgggghhhhh... What situation have I dragged myself into now... 🥲’