Experimental Log Of The Crazy Lich
/ Experimental Log of the Crazy Lich 479 New Beginning
Behind the counter, Old Man Barton was wiping dishes whilst complaining about how quickly the world was changing, to the point where this old veteran couldn't understand it.
It was nightfall and it poured outside. The raindrops pitter-pattered upon the wooden window frame and rooftop. The heavy rain caused the beer barrel sign to sway constantly. Inside, the pale yellow light from the oil lamps faintly lit up the Rhino Tabera lounge. The Half-Elf bards were quietly chanting the new battle poem from the remote lands as the adventurers listened intently.
Not only did this terrible weather thwart their plans to go out, it put them in no mood to make a ruckus as usual. Instead, they warmed themselves up by the furnace, listening to music and playing Gwent, which was considerably the most indulgent form of relaxation as it was.
"Ha! Old Barton, don't take it to heart, but if you can't afford the machine that makes noises when you wave it around, then forget it. They now sell the magical guide lamp everywhere for only two energy coins every month, so why bother still using kerosene lamps which use up so much oil and aren't bright? Don't tell me that you barely have any savings? Or perhaps, you plan to give it all to Katerina's future husband?
Katerina was a server at this bar as well as the owner's precious adopted daughter. She was also a person who would easily cause many incidents around her.
If other people spoke like that in front of Old Barton, then he would have used affirmative discipline ages ago. This old man still had some bite left in him!
But in that very moment, the person who loudly joked around was an old veteran with white eyebrows with wings embossed on their silver crest. This was the crest of silver emblem mercenary; a crest awarded only to brave soldiers who contributed greatly to the country at war, a crest which identified an ace mercenary. In a small town like this, it clearly seemed like a waste of talent.
The considerably expensive magical pike lay casually on the counter. The brave soldier, who wore the latest edition "Explorer X4" on his raised wrist, enjoyed his drink. By his waist, there were also several latest edition micro energy barrels. This was the standard issue equipment of Winston, the strongest mercenary of the peaceful town of Anton, and the reason why he was able to joke around with Old Barton without angering the vet and getting kicked out. The two of them used to be comrades in the same unit.
"Hmph, from how I see it, those engineers and mages aren't reliable. Can you trust their things? Especially the goblins!"
"Hey hey hey!! No way! You still remember what happened back in the old days with the goblin engineer? They sold you a, errrr, errr…"
"Mechanical alarm clock!"
"Yeah! Yeah, it was a mechanical alarm clock. Mhm, I also remember that name sounded particularly auspicious. W-what was it called again?"
"Safe… Beyar Brothers' Safety Brand alarm clock."
As Old Barton recalled each and every word of its name, he also remembered the inventor's name. He seemed evidently filled with hate... to have remembered it so unusually clearly.
"Pft! I also remember that the alarm rang for almost half an hour that day. We were all woken up, and you were still drooling whilst hugging your pillow, saying "five more minutes". Then... Pftttt!"
He looked at boss Barton's pale white face and the red-haired bartender eavesdropping by pretending to wipe down tables. Then, Old Winston took into consideration that it was the only bar in town which served heavy-weight dwarven drinkers and decided to give his old comrade a little face.
*Crash!*
Alright, so old baldy crushed the plate himself. Clearly, he had lost control of his grip when he thought back to what happened the next morning of that day. Old Winston suddenly laughed so hard, he sprawled right out on the table.
A warning went off in the final moment of the alarm; it was a hoarse, ear-piercing recording, which Old Barton all of a sudden remembered crystal clearly to be the sharp shriek of a goblin.
"Okay, so you don't want to get up and you actually look down on the Safety Brand alarm clock and the Beyar Brothers' goblin products. I, the alarm clock, is angered. I am going to explode! Fifty, forty-nine…..."
When it started counting down from fifty seconds, the groggy veteran had had just about enough. He thought about the goblin's reputation, and figured that though it said it would blow up and form a ditch, it definitely won't be just one ditch. At most, it would blow up and form a dozen ditches, or, rumor had it, a bloody ravine. Without hesitation, the old veteran got out of bed immediately, then pressed the stop button on the alarm clock. Just then…
"...Forty-two, forty-one..."
Clearly, that wasn't the button to disarm the clock bomb. After Old Barton completely checked the clock, he couldn't find a second button to press.
"...Three, two..."
With no other option, all Old Barton could do was painfully throw out the "crappy toy he spent a month's salary on" that turned into a bomb. By the time the countdown ended, what came after wasn't actually an explosion, but a voice recording.
"Ha! You fell for it, didn't ya? You're finally up, aren't ya? Don't listen to those rumors. Our Safety Brand is sturdy and reliable. We stopped making bombs ages ago."
Alright. It'd be fine if that was the end of it, but having been messed with like that, he couldn't sleep anymore. It was hard to say; Old Barton still managed to admire their wit as the clock did in fact get the job done.
Just as he took the clock back, he noticed that there was a small crack which concealed a hidden button.
"Ha! You actually dared to snoop on the Beyar Brothers' business secrets? Taste the wrath of goblins!"
Barton still remembered the high-pitched shriek which was completely adorned with evil intentions. The wings of misfortune had already covered the top of his head.
*Grumble*
Okay, this familiar scene needed no description. The explosion wasn't enormous and Old Barton wasn't that weak, but because the explosion went off right in front of him, poor Old Barton ended up losing a few strands of hair and his eyebrows in the blast.
Then, he angrily ran over to question those "green misers with no business ethics". He was politely greeted by a goblin contract specialist, then "discussed the matter rather kindly and cordially".
As a result, the specialist brought up a ton of hidden no-liability clauses in the sales contract to confuse Barton, and then randomly turned the tables with "breach of contract fees" and "penalty fees for snooping on business secrets". In the end, the more he thought about it, the more he shouldn't have knocked on the door, as he was randomly swayed into buying a ton of hair-growth products.
"Pft! Not to mention, those hair-growth products were really effective."
*Crash!*
This was old man Barton's second smashed plate. He was already considering whether to settle the bill with his old mate. The morning after the incident, when he became a furball, that old turd laughed just as happily as he did now. In fact, he even dragged other mates to go see the orangutan.
O-kay. It was no wonder Barton bitterly hated goblin products so much. Back in the day, he thought it'd be fun to buy a new toy, he didn't get compensation and was pretty tormented. His hair did grow out, but he looked too frightening. In the end, he spent money to buy the goblin's long-lasting hair removal lotion... It was practically like repeatedly falling into a ditch.
He, the "Unyielding Stone Hammer", eventually retired early. It wasn't clear if he really was old and feeble like he said or if he couldn't take the brothers' teasing and other people's strange looks. After all, not everyone could keep cool whilst looking at a face as clean as a chicken egg. People would randomly burst out laughing in front of him every single time. His old face couldn't pull it together anymore.
"Oh. Did the long-lasting hair removal lotion wear off? How are your eyebrows growing out? Pft! It can't be fake eyebrows. Those can't be goblin products again, right? Comrade, don't you loathe goblin products?"
*Crash!*
Alright. This time, the comrade pulled out a warhammer right from under the countertop. It was a bright glistening lethal weapon which made the blabbermouth silver crest mercenaries scatter all around the bar.
In contrast, the bar regulars were already used to the daily clamor. As they cheered the boss on, they begged the bard to change the song to one with a faster melody.
Only adventurers and mercenaries, or old drunkards who couldn't be saved from alcohol poisoning, would stay in a tavern instead of a warm house during crappy weather like this.
But it was a shame, the boss didn't win by a landslide like he used to. This time, Old Barton suddenly stopped after heaving from chasing them around for over a dozen circles. Then, he pensively looked at a completely undeterred Winston.
"You old geezer? You've finally achieved the border of Legend rank?"
"Mhm. I achieved it about two days ago and came just to show off to you."
Rumors. Barton was stunned at first, then his tightly clenched fist relaxed once again. They've been brothers for so many years now, he didn't have to take showing off so seriously. It was a psychological method that had no effect on him at this age.
Even if the old comrade invited him to venture beyond the mountains once again, his answer would be the same.
"...Hmph! For that geezer to even be able reach the border of Legend, I just don't understand this bloody world anymore. Life's easier for me to withdraw back here and open this bar."
It looks like, this time, Winston's efforts to persuade him had failed once again. The old mercenary shrugged his shoulders. He suspected this would happen as old Barton was named 'stubborn rock Barton' for his rock-like stubbornness.
"You're only forty-five, right? Quit calling yourself an old guy. Did ya hear? The wood spirits have started to sell their elixir of life. For just 100 Justice Points, you could be two years younger! Who knows? You could also join Legend."
"Hmph! Not interested. If you bring up such senseless things again, your thunderous hard dwarf liquor will just be water. No alcohol no more…"
Those obviously weren't empty words but an actual threat. He could feel the old comrade was actually pissed off. He shook his head and Winston put his head down to focus on his drink.
It was no wonder Old Barton was this against the new magical guide lamps. This world changed too quickly. There were quite a few people like him who were incapable of adjusting. In reality, if it weren't for some reasons, Winston would have already reached the age of retirement according to past customs.
Old Winston was over forty-eight years old. Under normal circumstances, the peak age for human fighters was approximately thirty-five. After approximately forty years old, all kinds of areas of the body would swiftly falter. If one hadn't joined the Gold ranks by then, one could forget about ever joining. However, as the great era had now arrived, not only did he join the Gold ranks in two years with the help of all different kinds of the precious goods he got in due to the crazy increase of the Elemental Tide and the Contract Heroes system. Now, on the seventh year, he was even able to achieve the border of Legend.
As a result, whilst being pleasantly surprised, the old geezer was also touched. He ambitiously hoped for his old comrade to adventure together again. But it was a shame; some people were delighted for the approaching great era, whereas others weren't used to the idea of such eye-opening changes.
Yes, the great era; the new First Light Times (FT). Although most people were still used to using the old calendar AD1905, more and more people were accepting the new era of dawn, following the Church of Law and Hell's daily expanding advocation.
And now, it was already the seventh year of the new era, FT7, and increasingly more people of Eich got used to this endless, refreshing new world view. That was right, even the words "world view" were propagated by the Church of Law. In the past few years, there were already too many new concepts and new words.
In the past few years, following a rise in the Elemental Tide, magical talent which was always rare increased more than tenfold. Even simple soldiers like Winston were also able to learn handfuls of magical sword techniques for some reason. He even considered selling the antiques at home for a real magical pike.
In the past few years, mortals' Silver rank were broken as before, and the great masters of the Gold rank suddenly became worthless. Even powerful Legend flooded in and made the people reconsider how to address them. Of course, they were unclear of their own paths. They also didn't have Soul Imprints for new powerful fighters whose strength was far weaker than veteran fighters', yet they had enough numbers to make up for everything lost.
In the past few years, the map could be rewritten three times a week. The dimensional invaders and dimensional tears were as common and disgusting as cockroaches. One could say that the entire plane had slipped into the chaos of war. If citizens of the main plane also sailed with the rising water, then the world sadly couldn't be saved.
In the past few years, the technological revolution started in the Northlands and grew even more intense. The magical engineering technology had already changed the people's regular attitudes toward life and battle. Normal families also had magical guide lamps, and mortal soldiers also started trying to use those magical swords and guns. New transport equipment made business trades more efficient. Even legions and armies started to use revolutionary magical engineering mechanics. Winston was used to this kind of changing times and had already walked further and further on. If he had insisted on living like Old Barton, then he was afraid that he would be destined to be eliminated.
In the past few years, there were already uncountable changes. Nobody could tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but no matter the change, life continued. Gold had to be earned, the earth had to be farmed upon, and wine still had to be drunk. There were some things that couldn't come back once they were gone; other things were left in the past…
*Ding!*
*Crash!*
All of a sudden, the doorbell rang and snapped Barton out of his reminiscing. Three cloaked customers had entered and caught his attention. The raindrops from their soaked cloaks dripped onto the floor. The heavy rainproof boots made cracking sounds as they stomped the floorboards. Normal people wouldn't be willing to travel in this kind of weather.
The boss shot a glance, then lowered his head and concentrated on what he was doing. No matter how he put it, this was just a new customer trio. As long as they didn't cause trouble, they'll be welcomed.
"Hey hey hey!! Look, that dark skin and upside down cross emblem must belong to the Anti-Holy Knights!"
"The silver scales and black skull holy emblem? Another big player from the Church of Law? What are they doing here in our countryside?"
"Woah! The silver cross sword? Three Olivia's Magic Box holes! That must be the latest magical sword, right? Didn't they say that it was a prohibited item from the Northland squad's military? Don't tell me that those guys are from the north?"
Having removed their waterproof cloaks, they attracted the attention of all the customers in the bar.
A group comprised of a Dark Elf, a human, and a goblin was a rare sight. The moment that the boss saw the goblin, he decided to add 50% water into the wine and double the food prices. Then, he was going to give the goblin the empty room where someone died two days ago. Who knows? It might just drive out the devils.
However, the three new customers had no intention of ordering. Instead, they headed straight for the column of notices in the center of the bar. There were notices posted of missions for mercenaries in town.
The Church of Law goblin tip-toed over and ripped off an arrest warrant, replacing it with another.
Other people who watched on with interest and were a little hopeful of the mission from those "big characters". However, after they read the new arrest warrant, the immediately shook their heads and turned back to what they were doing.
After all, no matter how enticing the reward was, it was an impossible mission and a completely pointless endeavor. This mission spanned from FT 5 to FT 7 without a single shred of news. One was afraid that if he was to be found based simply on the ambiguous description on the warrant alone, then they would long be the world's best detective.
"Warrant: Roland"
"Male. He could be between 5 to 60 years old. He's most probably blonde (possibly dyed). Height is undetermined. There are no distinctive marks on the body and his appearance is unclear. (He usually looks gentle, but it could be a disguise). Immune to all inspection magic. He might have a black cat or another ghostly creature with him. He might be a warrior, or possibly a Holy Knight. He might also work in Law, undead mage, or ice mage... Of course, he could be impostering other occupations—that guy is capable of doing that. His strength is unclear, but please make the hunting job groups Legend rank at minimum. Wanted only alive. If he dies again, that'd be troublesome for us. Ah yes, he isn't humorous at all, and he only tells dry jokes."
Okay, so one could die twice over? It'll be a miracle if anyone finds him with this wanted poster which made people want to comment to no end. However, there were still quite a few people who were inspired to take action. After all, the reward was too enticing.
"Reward: Twenty million gold pieces. Fifty thousand Justice Points. The power of the Mist Alliance, the Church of Law, the Church of Hell, and the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance's friendship and an owed favor that doesn't violate basic ethical standards."
The gold and Justice Points only evoked strong lone fighters to make a move, and the current Mist Alliance had already become superpowers. At present, the Church of Law and the Church of Hell were the state religions of the Mist Alliance, so they were the world's strongest churches of them all. What was more, after the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance's elites suddenly returned two years ago, they had undoubtedly become the best mercenary band in the world. Their friendship and a favor was enough to entice an entire country!
Evidently, the three "esteemed guests" didn't come here to find someone. Since, "Finding Roland" was inexplicably deemed one of the ten most difficult epic missions to complete in this lifetime. They were just casually updating this globally posted warrant poster.
But this time, besides an increase in reward from two million to three million and the increase in Justice Points from fifty thousand to eighty thousand in this update, there was a final sentence added in the warrant.
"Roland! If you don't hand yourself in within a year, we'll publicize everything that's on your A17 book shelf in your underground book library. The fairies will prepare a special edition magazine just for you!"
Other people glanced at the wanted board and immediately dispersed. Of them all, the infamous lousy drunk from Karo's bar woke in shock. He was so frightened that his signature full beard almost fell to the ground.
"A17? Is that the real-character inspired erotic novel that I wrote? And the hardcore erotic painting that I especially painted by hand! Margaret, Elisa, Harloys, they'll… they'll kill me!"
"B*stard! So you actually had pictures of me! Back in the old days, you would even lay hands on a banshee!?"
*Cough* "A ghost with unresolved feelings is but a classic topic. You can play with that in so many ways… Let go. Don't bite."
[In actuality, there were practically images of all the beautiful Goddesses amongst them. After it was announced, prepare yourself to be chased down by the Goddesses. Hmph! I'm definitely not mad because the Goddess of Order wasn't included.]
"Hey hey hey!! It's the wrong time to play tsundere!"
[Pft! Don't talk to me, you old virgin! Harloys, let me tell you! Old virgins who hold back for a long time are really perverted! Being over three hundred years old, Roland has long been frustrated to no end. His part about you was such a classic, even I couldn't get what was going through his mind. The hardcore orgy S&M, the furnace-like icy love surpassed all other works at the time…...]
"Dear Astrya, are you hungry? I'll feed you down there." (To be continued…)
Chapter end
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