Monster Girl Saga | By : GenocideHeart Category: +M through R > Monster Girl Quest Views: 113526 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 16 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Monster Girl Quest, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
(A/N: New chapter time! As always, thanks to Toraneko from TFF for misc editing and grammar fixing. Also, thanks to Nanya, also from TFF, for some ideas I implemented in the dialogue. Enjoy!)
CHAPTER 7 Truth can be stranger than fiction The next day saw Luka up and about shortly after dawn, as usual. He felt refreshed, having slept through most of the evening and all night, only waking up briefly after sundown. By then, Alice had long since returned to the room, but rather than tease him for having essentially passed out naked on the couch, she had been strangely quiet, regarding him with a thoughtful expression. Curious as he had been, Luka still felt too tired to inquire about her behavior, so he simply ate some leftover food, drank some water, and then went back to sleep. By the time he woke up again, Alice had already left the room, and was nowhere to be found. After spending a few minutes looking for her with no success, he shrugged. She was a powerful monster, and was disguised as a human. He was confident she would be fine. Getting dressed, he readied himself for morning practice. As he grasped his sword, however, he saw the sorry state it was in. It made him wince. A night’s rest may have done wonders for him, but his treasured companion of many a morning wasn’t as fortunate. In its current condition, it would barely be useful for training, and fighting with it was out of the question. He shook his head sadly. He didn’t want to part ways with the sword his mother and Thermidor had gotten custom-made for him, but it didn’t seem like he’d get a choice in the matter. He’d have to hit town later and either get it repaired - and he wasn't at all convinced that this was even possible - or hope he could find a new one for sale that would fit him. Depressed, Luka cast a quick glance at Thermidor - still fast asleep on her bed - then left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Heading downstairs, he went out of the building and into the courtyard. There was a lot of space there, and it would be ideal for what he had in mind. For the next few minutes, he proceeded to go through several warm-up exercises, stretching his muscles and checking his overall state of form. He was still a little sore and stiff from the previous day’s exertion while fighting Granberia, but overall, his physical condition satisfied him. Having concluded his warm-up, he then proceeded to work on the execution of Demon Decapitation. As he began the motions, he made a mental note to thank Alice for teaching him the skill. In all likelihood, it had saved both his and Thermidor’s lives. Then, for the next hour, he practiced the move, focusing on making its execution as smooth and fluid as possible. The skill had allowed him to do what he’d thought to be impossible - letting him score a nearly clean hit against an overwhelmingly superior opponent - but he held no illusion over it working again in the haphazard form he’d used. He needed to refine it to a point where he could land the blow even without the opponent being distracted beforehand. Over and over, he practiced different methods of delivering the strike, varying the length of the step, the width of the slash and the momentum behind it, and eventually settled on an execution that he felt comfortable with. That, he decided, would be how he’d use it from that day onward. With that settled, he practiced for a few more minutes, then wound down and started on the other training he’d had in mind. He wanted to see whether he could replicate the multi-hitting move Granberia had used on Thermidor: Death Sword Chaos Star. Unfortunately, that part of the training proved fruitless. His execution of the skill had issues no matter how he performed it. If he focused on speed, the accuracy and power of his blows would take a hit. If he focused on accuracy, then the speed and, to a lesser extent, power would suffer. Focusing on power caused speed to significantly drop. Attempting to execute it at the highest level he could in all three categories also pointed out a different problem - namely, it would be so exhausting, he’d be effectively unable to fight afterwards. The sorry state of his sword was not making things any easier; training had been more difficult overall with the twisted mess it had been reduced to. After experiencing frustration for a while, Luka decided the skill was simply beyond his current ability. He’d have to be patient and become stronger, faster, and more skilled in order to use it. Eventually, he’d succeed, but clearly, it was not to be today. As he ended his training and lowered his battered sword, panting and drenched in sweat, he became aware of someone’s gaze on him. Turning around, he saw Alice, in her human form, watching him from the hotel’s entrance with an unreadable expression. He nodded at her, approaching. “Good morning, Alice,” he greeted her. “I assume you saw my embarrassing attempts to copy Granberia’s skill?” “I did,” she nodded. “And you didn’t do all that bad, overall. Death Sword Chaos Star is a top-level Cursed Sword skill, something which takes most warriors years to master. While you are far from perfect, you already have a good form while attempting it. All you need to do is polish your technique and improve your physical prowess so you can handle the strain of attacking with such speed and power. Once you achieve that level of expertise, I have no doubt you will master the move in short order.” “I still find it hard to get used to praise from you,” Luka commented. “Normally, you just point out how dumb I am.” “When praise is deserved, I'm perfectly willing to give it,” Alice shrugged. “And in the last two days, you have impressed me positively. I have high expectations of you.” “Now I’m nervous,” Luka grimaced. “Oh, before I forget, thank you for teaching me Demon Decapitation. Thermidor and I may not have survived without it.” “You’re welcome, although all I did was show you the theory behind it,” she replied. “You are the one who took the theory and made it something practicable. Don’t let this get to your head, but... what you did yesterday was nothing short of amazing. I can count the number of people who landed a hit on Granberia on the fingers of my right hand, and I’d have fingers to spare.” “Hmm... thank you. And I’ll be careful not to get too cocky,” he smiled. Then, he raised his sword and frowned. “That said, I should probably go into town and look for the blacksmith. With my sword in this condition, I can't practice properly, let alone fight. Hopefully, I can have it repaired.” “Repaired? From that sorry state?” Alice shook her head. “You’d have more success trying to extract blood from a rock. You’re better off looking for a new one. And you may want some armor, too. We discussed that yesterday, if you recall.” “Right, then, off to the blacksmith,” Luka decided. “Thermidor is still sleeping, so I’ll leave her be. Are you coming?” “Why not? There may be something good to eat somewhere,” the Lamia nodded with a faint smile. Luka groaned. “Should’ve expected that’d be your motivation. Why am I even surprised anymore?” he muttered as he walked off, the monster falling in line behind him. ---- A few minutes later, Luka and Alice strolled down the main road of Iliasburg, looking at the shops lining its sides. There appeared to be a wide variety of services available now that Granberia wasn't scaring all the shops closed, although most of them seemed to relate to food and household items. A little off the plaza further down, there was also a church. Luka noticed with some surprise that it wasn’t especially crowded. As they walked along the road, heading for the blacksmith’s shop near the town plaza entrance, Luka overheard two women chatting to the side as they browsed a clothing store. “...tell ya, those bandits to the west attacked another caravan of goods coming in from Iliasport,” he heard one of them say. “It’s been going on for a while now, but what is the Temple doing? Nothing! We asked for help several times already, but no one seems to care!” “What did you expect from the local Temple Heroes? You saw how they ran and hid yesterday when that monster attacked,” the other replied, shaking her head. “The town guard were the only ones who even attempted to stop that scary dragon lady, besides that cute boy who managed to drive her off. They won’t act, either, but it’s not their job to deal with stuff outside the city, so at least they have an excuse.” Luka’s interest perked up at that. Bandit troubles were still fairly common, even though the plague was long gone and order had returned to the region. It seemed Iliasburg had fallen on harder times than he thought. Deciding to investigate, he approached the two women. Behind him, he could hear Alice let out an exasperated, theatrical sigh, but she said nothing for the time being. “Excuse me,” he began in a polite tone as he stopped near the talking women. “I happened to overhear you as I was passing by. What’s this about bandits? Perhaps I could be of assistance...” “Forget it, kid,” a nearby guard chimed in as he heard him. “Those bandits ain’t your usual two-bit rabble from the sticks. They’re monsters! Dangerous ones, too! I hear there’s four of them, and they have a Vampire and a Dragon among 'em!” “What? A Vampire and a Dragon?” Luka asked, raising an eyebrow. He’d both read and heard about those monster types, and somehow, the thought of two such high-level monsters stooping so low as to perform petty banditry struck him as odd. He decided more information was needed. “Would you happen to know anything more specific about these monster bandits?” “The guards from the last robbed caravan are staying at the tavern,” one of the women helpfully provided. “They say they're ‘working up the courage to take revenge’, or something to that effect. More like they’re getting drunk to forget the beating they took, if you ask me.” “And where is the tavern?” Luka asked. The guard shook his head in disapproval. “Aren’t you listening to me? They got a Vampire and a Dragon!” he repeated. “Why would you-” “Hey, aren’t you that boy who drove the dragon woman off yesterday?” the first woman suddenly interrupted the guard. The soldier blinked, then took a closer look at Luka and stared, open-mouthed. Immediately afterwards, he began to bow profusely in apology. “So sorry, sir, didn’t recognize you there for a second!” he rattled out quickly, sweating a little. “Hope you won’t hold it against me.” “Why would I? You were just doing your job, warning a citizen that he was sticking his nose in dangerous business,” Luka shrugged. “That said, I may be able to help with this problem, but I need more details. So, about that tavern...” “Over there, the green and brown building with the ferret insignia outside,” the guard answered. He then took a closer look at Luka and blinked. “Uh, sir, beg your pardon, but you are aware your sword’s kinda...” “Scrap metal? Yeah, I'm aware,” Luka grunted, frowning as he held the bent sword up. “I need to ask the blacksmith for a new one. After I’m done with that, I’ll hit the tavern, I guess. This bandit business worries me. Something’s off. Anyway, thank you. I’ll be going now.” “Thank you for concerning yourself with our fair town’s well-being, young Hero,” the women chirped as he left. Luka winced. He could feel their stares drilling holes in his back, and he had a distinct feeling that it’d be best to avoid dark alleys after sundown while he was here. Those women seemed just a little bit too amorous. “You just have to get involved with every minor thing, don’t you?” Alice grumbled as they walked off, headed for the smithy. Luka gave her a look. “What’s the hurry? I’m supposed to be a Hero,” he pointed out. “Helping people in need is what Heroes do.” “It’s what you do,” she corrected him. "I don’t see many other Heroes being eager to solve this situation. Just what fairy tale did you come out of, anyway? Just yesterday you nearly got killed by a powerful opponent, and now you’re already getting yourself in trouble again... oh, whatever. Let’s just get this over with and go back to the hotel. I’m famished.” Luka briefly considered pointing out that she was always famished, or that the other Heroes clearly sucked bogwater at living up to the title, but decided discretion was the better part of valor and shrugged. There was no point getting in an argument right now. Finally, the pair reached the blacksmith’s shop. A few pieces of armor were exposed outside, but looked like props. Probably there to attract attention, he thought as he pushed the door open and headed in. “Hello? Is anyone here?” he called out as he walked up to the shop’s deserted counter. Almost immediately, a shuffling was heard from the back, and a curtain door in the wall behind the counter was pushed open as the owner appeared. Luka couldn’t help but stare at the smith. He was by far the largest man Luka had ever seen, being well over seven feet tall, broader across than the entrance to his own shop, and massively muscled. He had tanned skin, piercing black eyes, and short black hair, and wore blue sweatpants, fingerless black gloves and a sleeveless white shirt. “Ah, you’re the lad who drove off the dragon knight,” the giant man greeted Luka in an extremely deep and resonant, yet surprisingly soft voice. “That was a good fight you and your companion had back there. Reminded me of my wandering days. Anyway, I assume you are here on business. What can I do for you?” “Well... I was wondering if you could repair this sword,” he said, holding his damaged blade up for the man to see. “It got damaged pretty badly in yesterday’s fight, and...” “Now, now, hold it,” the smith interrupted him, waving a huge hand. “That’s not even a sword anymore, my friend. It’s junk. You’d have to have it reforged completely, and at that point, it’d be better to simply buy a new one.” “I was afraid you’d say that,” the young Hero muttered, his shoulders slumping. The other man gave him a sympathetic look. “Sentimental value, eh?” he guessed. At Luka’s nod, he shook his head. “I imagined as much. Unfortunately, that’s often what happens with equipment. It’s best not to get too attached to swords or armor, because there’s always the chance they will be irreparably damaged.” “So there’s nothing I can do, then,” Luka said, resigned. The smith frowned. “Well... as I said, you could have it reforged,” he explained. “It’d basically cost you as much as buying a new one, maybe more, but you’d have it back good as new. Now, normally, I’d be more than happy to do it for you at discount price... but as you can see, there’s a bit of a snag.” As he said that, he held his right arm up, and Luka winced as he saw a bandage over what appeared to be a nasty bruise on his wrist. It didn’t look like the arm was broken, but from the looks of it, forging work was out of the question. “What happened?” the boy asked. The blacksmith sighed. “That crazy dragon girl happened,” he replied. “I was one of the civilians who joined the effort to try and drive her off. But apparently, I’ve gotten rusty since I retired from adventuring. She whacked me good and messed my work arm up.” “I see,” Luka nodded. It seemed the town guards hadn’t been the only ones to engage Granberia. “I suppose I’ll just have to get a new one.” “You know what? Keep that sword,” the smith suggested. “Once my arm is in working order again, I’ll be more than happy to reforge it. In fact, I’ll make it even better than before, you can count on it!” “Mmmm,” Luka nodded. “I’ll keep your offer in mind, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be here in Iliasburg. I’m on an adventure of my own, you see.” “Oh? Then maybe I could interest you in some armor?” the smith suggested. “Judging from your body build, you aren’t the type to wear heavy metal armor, so maybe something lighter...” “Uh, I don’t want to sound rude or anything, but...” Luka said hesitantly, eyeing the armor sets on display in the shop. Several of them looked extremely impractical and uncomfortable to wear, and some were clearly all looks and no substance. “Ah, ignore that stuff,” the man waved his good hand at him. “Most of it’s just the stuff I sell to those featherless peacocks who call themselves ‘heroes’ and ‘warriors’ nowadays, but can’t tell the difference between a hunk of useless metal and actual honest-to-god armor fit for battle. I mostly keep the quality goods in the back, except for a few scattered across the shop. Anyone with a good eye for armor will spot them instantly.” “If you know those wares are worthless, why are you selling them in the first place?” Alice inquired, raising an eyebrow. “It seems more than a little dishonest.” “If someone asks me to forge him junk, and doesn’t listen to my advice when I tell him it’s junk, then he deserves junk,” was the smith’s flat reply. “And believe me, I do try to change their minds. But nowadays, most people who come in here are concerned with appearance over practicality. There’s nothing wrong with applying some spikes in strategic places to your armor if you expect to fight against opponents that can be driven off, or even simply intimidated, by them, but most Temple Heroes don’t seem to understand the concept of ‘not going overboard’. I have better things to do than spend most of my life explaining to those types why they are being idiots.” “Fair enough,” Alice nodded. “I still don’t see the actual use of spikes, though. For instance, the dragon girl that attacked earlier would break them effortlessly.” “True, but they can help against weaker monsters whose flesh isn’t too tough, since they hurt them and prevent them from pinning the wearer down,” the blacksmith explained. “But to be fair, the further north you go, the more useless they become. Most monsters up north in Sentora either have skins that are too tough or too elastic to be hurt by them, or else they've got the sheer strength to simply snap them off. And there’s even some monsters who get off on the pain, I hear.” “I think I heard about those types, too, but they’re supposedly only found in really remote areas,” Luka chimed in. “I couldn’t name one offhand, though.” “Anyway, just wait here,” the man concluded as he disappeared in the back. “I’ll bring out some of my best wares.” As the pair waited for the blacksmith’s return, they began to look around the shop, curious about the exposed items. Some of them didn’t look like they were from anywhere in Ilias, and Luka assumed that they were trophies from the smith’s time as a wanderer. In particular, his eyes were attracted by a large circular red-colored device of unknown use, and by what looked to be a pair of massive gauntlets, similarly red-colored. In one corner, there was a bust of a mustachioed, somber-looking man, with the name ‘Gabriel’ etched on its base. As Luka was looking around, the man came back, carrying several pieces of equipment, and laid his wares down on the counter. Abandoning their exploration of the shop, Luka and Alice came closer, examining the armor the smith had picked. As he had promised, it was functional, high quality light armor, specifically a set of leather brigandine. It was designed for agility first and foremost, thus offering less protection than regular mail-and-plate armor, but that suited Luka perfectly. The boy nodded, impressed. This blacksmith knew his stuff when it came to armor. As Luka examined the armor, Alice’s attention was drawn by something on a nearby shelf. Walking up to it, she examined it, then brought it back to the counter and held it up. “Excuse me,” she said, displaying what looked like a plain white shirt. “How much does this cost?” “Ah, I’d forgotten about that one,” the man said, giving Alice an approving look. “I see you have a keen eye for quality, madam. That’s an Enrikan shirt - it’s a product from an isolated village down south which specializes in clothing articles that offer protection as good as that of any armor. This may look light, but it’s actually tough enough to stop small blades, reduce impact from larger ones, and almost completely block arrows.” “Really? This thin-looking shirt?” Luka asked, surprised. The smith nodded. “I don’t know how they make them, but their wares are top-quality, no question about it,” he confirmed. “They’re as good as the armor I showed you, and much lighter... but since they are rare items, they cost an arm and a leg, so not everyone can afford it.” “Uh, maybe I’d better pass on it, then...” Luka began, but the smith waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind that, I’ll sell it to you at a discount,” he stated. “You are the town’s Hero, after all. I don’t mind helping you out by lowering prices.” Looking him over critically, he picked a few pieces of equipment up. “Let’s see... besides the Enrikan shirt, I’d say you could use a pair of armguards, so you can at least attempt to parry blows with your forearms if you get disarmed. And, for carrying small items for battle use... how about this leather belt? It should be your size. Hm, I’d offer a pair of boots, but those are best custom-made when it comes to using them for battle. A pair of badly-fitting boots can cause you to stumble in battle, and for someone like you who needs to remain mobile, that’d be a disaster...” “How much is all this going to cost?” Luka asked, taking his coin purse out. The man looked at him, then at the gathered wares and nodded to himself. “Hmm... for all this... I’ll make it a special rate. Three gold and it’s all yours,” he replied. Luka blinked. “Wait... how much does this shirt cost normally? You mentioned it’s awfully expensive...” he asked. The man once again waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” he stated. “Even if I’m at a net loss, it beats what would've happened if that dragon woman had taken over the town. I’d have lost the whole shop, then. This is nothing, so just take the price, all right?” “Well, if you’re happy with this, then...” the boy shrugged as he pulled three coins out and handed them over. As he looked at his new equipment, he suddenly remembered the reason he originally came to the blacksmith's. “I can't believe I almost forgot - I came in here because I need a sword! Do you happen to-” “Sorry, I have nothing that would fit you,” the blacksmith replied with an apologetic look. “All the weapons I have are either too heavy or too long. You’d have to get used to them all over again, and that could take a long time. You might want to go back to wherever you got that sword in the first place and see if they have something like it. I specialize in heavy weapons, mostly.” “I see. Thank you anyway,” Luka nodded, gathering his purchases. “Well then, time to head for the tavern.” “Aren’t you a little too young to drink?” the blacksmith asked disapprovingly. Luka shook his head. “I’m not going there to drink,” he explained. “I'm going there to gather information. I hear the people who were attacked by those bandits are staying at that tavern, so I figured I'd start asking questions.” “You plan to go after the bandits?” the smith asked, surprised. “That explains why you were looking for a new weapon. Listen, kid, don’t do anything crazy. Hunting down monster bandits with your bare hands isn’t a smart thing to do... well, unless you’re me, anyway. Used to fight with just my fists back in the day. But, well, you aren’t me, so you probably shouldn’t do it.” “I’ll have to think of something,” Luka agreed as he opened the shop’s door. “Thank you again for your help, Mr...?” “Call me Po if you want,” the man replied with a friendly smile. “It’s what everybody in town calls me anyway.” “Right then, goodbye, Mr. Po,” Luka said. Then he and Alice left the smithy. “Nice kid,” the blacksmith murmured as he returned to the back of his shop. “Here’s hoping he won’t get himself killed, or worse, by some monster... or some human.” ---- A few minutes later, Luka entered the tavern. A little discussion convinced Alice that it would be better if she waited outside. Her attire could attract the wrong kind of attention, and the boy really didn’t feel like having to beat down half the drunks inside when the all-too-likely brawl would break out. The Lamia didn’t complain. She simply stated that she’d keep herself busy sampling local delicacies, and immediately sauntered off towards the food stands. Luka grimaced at that; he was sure she’d make a sizable dent in his travel funds, but it was better than letting her wander around. As the boy walked in, his gaze was immediately attracted by a bunch of men in cloaks drinking and making noise off in a corner. He approached the counter, keeping his eyes on the drunk patrons, and addressed the bartender. “I don’t suppose you could tell me which of these fine gentlemen are the caravan guards who got attacked by the bandits?” he inquired. The barman gave him a somewhat amused look. “You’ve been staring at them since you came in, my friend,” he replied, confirming Luka’s suspicions. “That cloaked bunch over there has been doing nothing but drinking, harassing the waitresses and whining about how the monsters they fought were so powerful even the Temple Heroes would have no chance against them and it was a miracle they got away alive. As if being able to send the Temple’s strutting fools running would be tough... I was about to call my bouncers and throw them out. They may have paid their tabs so far, but frankly, they've overstayed their welcome.” “Could you hold that thought for a few more minutes?” Luka asked him. “I have a few questions to ask them.” “Well... say, you’re one of the people who saved our town yesterday, aren’t you?” the bartender asked, interested. “Does that mean you’re going to do something about those bandits?” “That’s the idea, yes,” he nodded. “Although I’ll have some preparations to take care of beforehand. Anyway, just let me ask those people about the bandits who attacked them. After that, feel free to have them tossed in the nearest river.” “All right, but be quick about it and try not to start a fight,” the other man nodded, worried. “I’d rather not have my tavern wrecked by that useless bunch.” “Understood,” Luka replied with a nod as he walked off. Wasting no time, he approached the noisy group - six men, all in their late twenties from what he could tell - just as a clearly annoyed waitress deftly avoided a clumsy grabbing attempt by one of them. The boy grimaced; if they were drunk enough to do that, they might be drunk enough to really start a fight if they got aggravated. He’d have to be careful about what he said. Stopping near their table, he cleared his throat to gain their attention, causing the six caravan guards to turn his way with a confused expression on their faces. “Excuse me for interrupting your drinking,” he began. “I heard you had a run-in with some monsters, and I couldn’t help but be curious. Where did it happen? And what monsters did you meet? What were they after?” “Huh, what’s a kid doing in here? They’ll let just anyone in here, won't they...” one of the men spoke up, giving Luka a drunken glare. Another beside him patted him on his arm. “C'mon, now, this kid obviously wants to hear about our heroic struggle against those powerful enemies,” he chided him, slurring a bit. “Hah! You’d have peed yourself if you’d been there, boy!” another guard chimed in, his face flushed from too much wine. “It was terrifying, I tell ya! Four mighty monsters, wielding awesome power! We never stood a chance... they ambushed us and demanded we hand over our cargo in booming, dreadful voices. There were a Vampire and a Dragon among them, too! Terrible monsters of myth, capable of crushing even Heroes under their heel as if they were nothing! We fiercely fought to defend ourselves and our cargo, but were overwhelmed, and it was all we could do to flee with our lives!” “Yeah! The Dragon was especially terrifying!” yet another guard started. “Great claws capable of rending flesh and stone, fiery breath setting ablaze all it touched, scales so hard even the toughest armor could not compete, cute round eyes, soft-looking skin--” The guard’s rambling was cut off by one of his companions viciously elbowing him in the gut, cutting him off. He then looked at Luka, sweating a little. “Ahahahaha... dreadful red eyes and skin like sandpaper, he meant,” he hastily amended. “Anyway! It was a Dragon! A crushingly powerful creature of legend! Surely you understand how terrifying its mere presence was, right? It’s only normal to have confused memories of her...” “The Vampire was also dreadful,” the same guard from before chimed in, undeterred in his drunkenness. “She swept in as a cloud of bloodthirsty bats, clawing and biting at us, and then used her terrible magic to strike fear in our hearts. She laughed at us as we fled, her delicious flat chest heaving as she--” Another vicious elbow, this time from another guard, reached the man, knocking the wind out of him completely. Luka grimaced, but he’d heard enough. These guards were obviously hiding something, and the description the drunk one gave of the Vampire and Dragon was odd, to say the least. It seemed there was indeed something amiss with the whole thing. Looking over at the guards, he realized they were sobering up, looking at him suspiciously. He smiled and shook his head. “I see you’re still shaken from the ghastly experience you went through,” he told them, carefully keeping any hint of sarcasm out of his voice as he reached for a few coins he’d kept with him just in case and dropped them on the table. “Here, have another round, on me - call it a gift of sympathy. Just one last thing... you were attacked west of here, correct?” “Yeah, near the base of the mountains,” one of the guards nodded, greedily eyeing the coins. “You should steer clear of there, though. They even have a Lamia with them! You do know how powerful they are, right?” “Such a cute tiny tail, though...” the same man from before spoke up. This time, the elbow smash caught him in the face, knocking him backwards on his chair and dazing him into silence. Luka pretended he hadn’t heard him and waved goodbye to the caravan guards. Returning to the bartender, he gave the man a nod. “Not only are they drunk as sponges, I'll bet my whole wallet they're lying through their rotting teeth,” Luka grunted, frowning. “A dip in that river may be in order.” “I imagined they were lying,” the man replied. “Their stories kept getting more and more elaborate and flowery as time went on. I’ll have my boys send them packing. Hope you can solve this problem for us, young Hero.” “I’ll do what I can,” Luka replied. “Can’t promise anything, though. I’m currently weaponless, and it may take a while to get a new one.”While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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