Chapter 82, Anger On Another’s Behalf

Translator: Barnnn

 

“Mister Wardon…” Duris muttered with a sigh.

“I’ve already decided. I’ll pay whatever it takes.” The man’s deep voice left no room for debate.

“That may be true, but at least allow me to verify the materials before you get ahead of yourself.”

 

Though the deal would officially go through the Guild, it was clear that Wardon and Duris had already come to a private agreement.

 

“Do we just place it here?” Fieda asked, gesturing to the table.

“Yes, please. And if I may — though you’ve been making quite a ruckus, Mister Wardon — this room is sealed with a soundproof ward. No one outside can eavesdrop or peer in. I should have said so earlier. My apologies for the delay.”

 

Hearing this, Fieda gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment and glanced at Hal.

 

“You’ve got it?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

 

Normally, Ize handled their drops, but this time, they had made a point of storing the item in Hal’s Magic Bag.

 

“A wrist-worn one, huh? Rare to see,” Wardon noted, eyeing the artifact with some interest.

“So I’ve been told,” Hal replied.

 

From the sleek bracelet, Hal retrieved a bundle wrapped in cloth and carefully placed it on the table.

Across from him, Duris and Wardon leaned in with visible anticipation.

 

“May I take a look?” Duris asked, reaching forward.

“Go ahead,” Hal said, extending a hand in invitation.

Duris unwrapped the cloth with care. “Ah… so this is it.”

“Will it work?” Wardon asked, his voice unusually tentative.

“It’s perfect,” Duris sighed. “With this, we can save lives. Many of them.”

“Thank the Goddess!” Wardon said, his shoulders sagging with relief.

“Let’s not celebrate just yet,” Duris said, waving him down. “The transaction isn’t finalized.”

 

Ize, Hal, and Fieda didn’t mind if the item was taken immediately. If people needed it, so be it. But given the value of the material, the Guild wouldn’t risk moving it without the proper paperwork.

 

“As for the price,” Duris began, sliding a parchment across the table, “this is the standard Guild valuation.”

“I’ll pay double!” Wardon declared, pounding his fist on his knee.

 

Even the base amount Duris had offered would’ve been enough to stay at the Sage’s Table for a year — twice that, and it bordered on obscene. Hal and Ize exchanged wide-eyed looks.

Then again… if it was to save lives, maybe no price was too high?

 

“Mister Wardon, please keep quiet for a moment,” Duris said firmly. “As I mentioned before, you could sell this to a noble or another high-paying individual, such as Mister Wardon here, for a greater sum. But if you’d rather–?”

“The Guild’s price is fine,” Fieda said without hesitation.

“You both agree?” Duris turned to Hal and Ize.

“Yes. No problem here.”

“The offered price is more than enough,” Ize added.

“You three are surprisingly modest,” Duris said. “It’s rare, but appreciated. Now, if you could sign the earlier documents, as well as this payment authorization, we’ll process the transfer.”

“You can take it now, if you need to,” Fieda offered.

“Are… are you sure?”

“Go ahead.”

“W-well then…”

 

With a deep bow of gratitude, Duris rewrapped the Sugar Mandragora and handed it across to Wardon.

 

“Wardon, please take this directly to the Alchemical Division. You know the way, yes?”

“You got it! I’ll be back as soon as I can! I owe you all, seriously!”

 

Wardon accepted the precious bundle with surprising delicacy, then tucked it into the Magic Bag at his waist as if cradling something sacred.

Turning to face them all, he gave a final, booming shout of thanks. Then, scraping his head noisily against the top of the doorway, he stomped out of the room with thunderous steps.

Silence fell like a curtain. For a long moment, the trio simply stared at the door he’d vanished through.

 

“…Right,” Duris murmured, clearing his throat. “Let’s finish up.”

 

One by one, they returned to the papers, checking the details and adding their signatures. Once everything was in order, Duris collected the documents, gave them a final look, and rang a small silver bell in the corner.

A few moments later, someone knocked and opened the door just enough to accept the paperwork before vanishing again.

 

“Now, once I receive confirmation of receipt, the transaction will be complete. Thank you for your patience.” Duris let out a long breath and, for the first time since they’d entered the room, smiled fully and bowed his head. “Mister Wardon has been waiting for this day for months. In his place, let me offer you my heartfelt thanks. You’ve saved his companions’ lives.”

 

His head remained bowed, but the tremble in his voice betrayed emotion. It was clear he was fighting tears.

Considering Wardon’s rank, his teammates were likely elite adventurers themselves. Perhaps they had been struck by a toxin no ordinary antidote could cure.

 

“…We were just doing what Ivern asked,” Fieda said. “We didn’t even know what it was. We’re not looking for thanks.”

“Even so, you didn’t sell it to the nobles. You brought it here.” Duris lifted his head and looked directly at Fieda. “Each leaf of the Sugar Mandragora can produce several doses of detoxifying Potion. With the whole plant, we can save dozens of lives.”

 

But then his face twisted, his earlier gratitude soured by bitterness.

Ize blinked in surprise. Duris’s next words came out through clenched teeth.

 

“And yet, the royals and nobles — what do they do? They hoard it. Waste it. They toss the leaves on salads as garnish. Wrap it around meat for decoration. Decoration! A single leaf could save six lives, and they use it to impress guests at dinner parties.”

 

His voice cracked. His fists clenched. Fury radiated from him in waves.

 

“How many lives could be saved with what they waste in a single course?” he spat.

 

It was a grotesque truth: that the powerful of this kingdom used such rare materials to flaunt wealth, while even A-rank adventurers couldn’t get their hands on them when it mattered.

 

“…I’m glad we didn’t sell to a noble,” Hal said.

“Yeah,” Ize agreed softly. “Me too.”

 

Duris’s anger had shaken them, but it also affirmed they’d done the right thing.

 

“How many others need the antidote right now?” Fieda asked.

“Mister Wardon’s party is the top priority, along with one other group. There were four leaves on that specimen. That should be enough for twenty people, at least. Some with less severe paralysis will have to wait. We’ll prioritize the worst cases first.”

“Does the Potion store well?”

“Yes. It keeps for some time… not that we’ve ever had enough to store before.”

“I see…”

 

Fieda leaned back in his chair and fell silent, his gaze distant as he began to think.

Hal and Ize had already discussed things with Fieda before coming to the Guild. They’d left it entirely to him — how much information to share, how much of the Sugar Mandragora to offer. And now, watching his expression, they knew exactly what he was thinking.

 

“…If we’ve figured out a reliable method for harvesting the Sugar Mandragora,” Fieda said quietly, “how much of that process could you personally oversee, Mister Duris?”

 

Duris blinked, taken aback. For a moment, it was clear he had no idea what Fieda was getting at.

 

“You mean… a consistent, repeatable way to gather them? You’ve actually found one?”

“…Yes.”

 

Fieda nodded once.

Their eyes met. Duris stared at him for a breath, then swallowed hard, as though forcing something down.

 

“I — yes, absolutely. I would want to know that. If the Guild can’t manage it officially, I’d even pay out of pocket for the information.”

“We’re not giving this to the Guild,” Fieda said plainly. “Not yet. Our biggest concern is that if this gets out — especially to the nobles — the Sugar Mandragora will be hunted into extinction. If the Guild learns the method, can you honestly say it won’t leak to them?”

Duris didn’t hesitate. “…No. I’m afraid not. It’s only a matter of time if that happens.”

“Then let’s make a deal,” Fieda said. “Just between you and me.”

Duris looked stunned. “You’d trust me with something like this?”

“You said it yourself — you’d pay for it personally. And earlier, the way you spoke about the nobles and what they do with the Mandragoras… That kind of anger doesn’t come from nowhere. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who’d turn around and waste this.” He gave a small shrug. “If I’m wrong, then I just misjudged you. That’s all.”

 

But Hal and Ize both knew. There was no doubt in their minds. Duris wouldn’t betray them. That anger had been real. He wasn’t just an ally; he believed in the same things they did.

And that was enough.

 

“…Understood,” Duris said at last, bowing his head slightly. “I don’t know how much I can offer in exchange, but I would be honored to learn the method.”

“Then first, know this: the process depends on a light magic user. That’s the key. And they’ll need a reliable party to escort them into the Dungeon and protect them at the collection site. Can you make that happen?”

Duris’s eyes widened. “My wife is a light mage. She works in the Guild’s infirmary, and used to be an adventurer herself. As for a party… I’d say Mister Ivern’s team is the best choice. You’ve met them.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Fieda said, satisfied. He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded slip of paper, setting it gently on the table. “It’s all written here. Test what’s written. If it works, then we can talk about payment afterward.”

“You’d just… give it to me?” Duris asked, almost in disbelief.

Fieda nodded. “I trust you.”

 

Duris lowered his head, hand trembling slightly as he reached for the paper.

But he didn’t unfold it. Instead, he brought it close, pressing it against his chest like something sacred. He bowed, deeply and solemnly.

 

“From the bottom of my heart,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion, “thank you. All of you. For your help.”

 

He stayed like that for a long moment, his head bowed as if in silent prayer, not lifting it even after the words had left his lips.