A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 609: The Day Before The Mission - Part 3

For their part, Verdant and Oliver were more relaxed. Something about the daylight invited such relaxed states. Both he and Asabel had their afternoons free. It wasn’t a surprising fact for Oliver to have his afternoon free, given how much ’free’ time he had lately – that was, time away from lessons, since he had markedly few of those.

But for Asabel, ever since her Quarter inheritance, her schedule had been as packed as one would expect. Continue reading at novelbuddy

Tomorrow morning, Oliver would be setting out on whatever mission Skullic had set him, meaning he’d be meeting with the man himself, so that he could give him the task. That meant he needed to finally address the task that he’d been putting off for the rest of the week and get his meeting with Asabel out of the way.

Skullic would probably reprimand him for leaving it so long, but none could say that he hadn’t attended to it.

The note from Nebular was as short and concise as one would expect. There was no introduction, no signing, it was just a list of what he needed. The Hobgoblin organs were on there, right at the top of the list. They were about the only thing he recognized, though he was pleased to see that the Blackwolves were there as well…

"Wait, hang on, Konbreakers?" Oliver said aloud. Their procession stopped, as they looked to him for an explanation. "Ah, sorry. Just caught me by surprise."

There were Gorebeasts there too. Both creatures apparently had somewhat useful organs. He wondered if there was a reason behind that. Was it mere coincidence that Francis the mage had summoned up the very same creatures that would have been useful in these expensive potions that Nebular intended to create? As for what the potions were… there was no mention of it on that note.

Oliver wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed. He’d made their position quite clear at the stable. He needed coin, quite desperately. In truth, he needed all manner of things, but coin certainly would help.

Towards that end, he’d forced such unreasonable demands on the struggling alchemist, insisting that he pull his weight for that fifty-fifty arrangement, and whatever was to be said about the boy, it seemed like he intended to.

"If I might add, my Lord, it would seem that Nebular has purchased a shop closer to the centre of the marketplace," Verdant said. "Of course, he wasn’t able to buy it outright, and is in considerable debt because of it. It seems that he intends to put his all into this arrangement, if he is willing to make such gambles."

"I didn’t think he had it in him," Oliver mused. "Well, good. If you hear him get himself into trouble as a result, tell me, Verdant. He’s one of the few willing to do business with me. I’ve got to put some worth on that fact."

"The worth is in the very service itself, my Lord," Verdant said, "but I shall keep an eye out nonetheless."

Their conversation ended when they reached the door. A few light wraps of the knuckle from Verdant, and a serving girl appeared to lead them inside. A different one to last time, Oliver noted. This one didn’t look quite so… condescending.

Verdant was dressed respectably, more like a noble should be. His transitioning into a new Academy role seemed to be progressing, and he was attending more than a few meetings to finalize that role, and so Oliver was seeing him in noble attire more often as of late. There was something rather intimidating about a priestly-looking man such as Verdant wearing such bulky jewelled rings.

It created an odd contradiction that was hard to overlook.

Nevertheless, overlook it the maid did. As one would expect from a Princess, her attendants were nothing but professional. The girl curtsied to them, holding the hem of her dress, and welcomed them inside, where Lancelot was waiting, a frown on his face.

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"You’re finally here," he said. Oliver couldn’t help but smile hearing that. He never thought there would ever come a day when Lancelot would be complaining that he hadn’t paid them a visit sooner. Of course, it didn’t change the fact that the man was still complaining, such a thing seemed likely to be an eternal truth for as long as the earth turned.

Lancelot would remain pretty, but his words would always be sour.

"Good to see you, Lancelot," Oliver said, possibly too cheerfully, for the man eyed him with enough venom to force a rabbit to skin itself, for fear of provoking further ire. Oliver overlooked the glare. He could sympathize with it now – especially now, given what Oliver had put his Lady through.

"I am seeing you," Lancelot said. He seemed to be making a joke of some sort, given the way that he was pursuing his lips expectantly. Perhaps the joke was that he’d omitted the fact that it was good to see Oliver? A rather low-tier joke, or so Oliver thought.

"You lack the vision to truly see him," Verdant said breezily, as he moved past the man. Lancelot’s glare intensified.

"Thank you, by the way," Oliver said, as he passed Lancelot, following Verdant into the same dining room that they’d sat in before. The presumptuousness of leading the way there himself seemed a bit too extreme of Verdant, but Oliver guessed that it was likely a disguised noble jab at Lancelot somehow.

"You can thank my Lady when you see her, Patrick," Lancelot told him icily, "and you should do so properly."

"I will," Oliver assured him. "Now I am thanking you, however improper it is. I’d misjudged you – but you seem to be an honourable enough man."

"Just because I find you distasteful does not make me hellspawn," Lancelot said, pursing his lips. "It should be natural that I would stand on the side of justice."

It was hard to get a more perfect answer than that. "So that’s what a proper knight looks like," Oliver said, nodding. "If I could carry off even a fraction of your virtue, Lancelot, I don’t think I’d have ended up at that trial at all."