This Lich Requests More Remuneration

Chapter 55: Chapter 55 Still That Old Bar Chapter 55: Chapter 55 Still That Old Bar Alchemy City’s South Cross Star Boulevard, once the busiest location, had become somewhat deserted.

The worsening economic environment continuously manifested itself, with more and more shops closing down, leaving fewer and fewer employers to offer work to adventurers.

The Iron Slag Ashes Bar had also noticeably fewer patrons these days. In the past, such a decline would have sent the owner into a rage. Orcs have a naturally fiery temper and rarely find a moment of calm.

But the bar had been quiet for the past few days, primarily because the owner had changed.

The former beastwoman owner, Ona Hellfire, had packed up her belongings; once she sold off everything that couldn’t be taken along, she would leave the city.

Within a single day, the Iron Slag Ashes had changed hands twice, and now it seemed to have been added to Alchemy City’s official properties.

Private property becoming public was quite rare, as it was usually the public property that was covertly turned private.

But the intricate power plays behind this change were unimportant. The orcish bartender continued to stand behind the bar as usual, polishing his glasses.

Only the dwarf singer, whose singing was hard on the ears, had left, and with the bar’s scarce patronage, the place seemed excessively quiet.

The orcish bartender sighed, feeling a bit regretful; he quite liked that dwarf singer.

With a sense of having witnessed the rise and fall, the orcish bartender poured himself a beer and sipped it slowly.

The bell rang as the bar’s door was pushed open, and a tall, armored knight walked in.

There was no need for self-introduction; the rose and dragon pattern on the armor alone indicated that this was a paladin from the Laine Empire.

The orcish bartender put down his glass and subconsciously placed an empty bottle within easy reach.

But when he took a good look at the newcomer, he realized it wasn’t the same person as last time. Although their demeanor was similar, this paladin was far less handsome than his predecessor.

Masstar sat down at the bar as if he hadn’t noticed the orcish bartender’s slight movement.

“A glass of rum, please.”

Masstar was there to gather intelligence. Ten conviction knights had scattered throughout Alchemy City, collecting all possible clues.

The Iron Slag Ashes Bar was a vital source in their intelligence, as it was where Allen Watson had made an enemy of the lich and was later captured by said lich in the war.

The orcish bartender poured a glass of rum and handed it over, asking, “Do paladins drink too? The one before you only drank water.”

Masstar downed the rum in one gulp and then said, “Allen Watson is an ascetic, and I greatly respect him, though I could never do that. But your liquor… don’t bother pouring me another.”

The orcish bartender said indifferently, “Most adventurers can’t afford too fine a drink; cheap and plentiful is their usual request. But, Mr. Paladin, you’re not here just for a drink, are you? If you came to collect information, I wonder if you know the rules here?”

Masstar flicked a gold coin, which landed precisely in the orcish bartender’s breast pocket.

“The Laine Empire never undercompensates friends who offer help.”

The orcish bartender maintained a polite smile, but internally he didn’t believe a word.

The Laine Empire was run by humans, for humans alone. When had they ever considered other races as friends?

And upon hearing Masstar’s lie, the orcish bartender became even more wary.

A paladin capable of lying, most likely, had taken the oath of vengeance.

To eliminate all the world’s evils, a paladin bound by the oath of vengeance could resort to deception and surprise attacks against enemies and might even temporarily cooperate with the wicked to eliminate a greater evil.

Aside from showing no mercy to evil, a paladin pursuing the oath of vengeance had a much more flexible moral code.

Thus, outsiders sometimes scornfully refer to these paladins as black knights.

“Respected guest, may I know what information you’re looking to gather? If it’s about the details of the bet, I can describe it to you,” said the Orcish bartender.

Masstar shook his head and said, “No need, I’m already very familiar with that scam.”

Alchemy City had long since investigated the details of Allen Watson being swindled out of several thousand Gold Coins, and Masstar had already obtained the detailed information. His visit this time was to inquire about other intelligence.

“What do you know about that undead?” Masstar asked.

The Orcish Bartender thought for a moment, then said, “He’s not a regular here. I only remember him coming two or three times. Apart from his name, I don’t know much about him.”

“I heard that, after he scammed my companion out of several thousand Gold Coins, he posted a commission here?”

“Yes, it was regarding the sewers. Please wait a moment.”

The Orcish Bartender brought out the contract Amberser had left in the bar, then told Masstar all the details of what happened before and after the commission was posted at the bar.

Masstar listened carefully, occasionally interjecting with questions.

“What’s down in the sewers that makes them so dangerous?”

“I don’t know. I’m just a bartender. I don’t understand a thing about alchemy,” the bartender replied.

“What did the lich want the Slime for?”

“I don’t know. I’m just a bartender. I don’t understand a thing about magic,” he repeated.

“And the group of druids who got trapped? If you repeat your previous answer, we’re going to have to duel!”

“No need for that. I’m aware of those druids. They haven’t left and are said to still be in Alchemy City. It’s just that I don’t know exactly where they are staying,” answered the bartender.

…

After a long conversation, it couldn’t be said there was no gain at all; Masstar felt he gained some understanding of Amberser.

This lich seemed to be quite short on money.

This was somewhat strange, but considering the recent situation in Alchemy City, it seemed rather reasonable.

Undead do not need to eat or drink, but the cost of just any magical experiment is enough for a regular person to live on for a lifetime. Since liches don’t sleep, they spend far more time on magical experiments than humans, which naturally leads to higher expenses.

However, this wasn’t considered valuable intelligence. After all, one couldn’t just dangle a Gold Coin on a string and expect the lich to come running.

Masstar then took out another Gold Coin and said to the Orcish Bartender, “Recommend some Wanderers or Rangers to me, someone competent.”

The Orcish Bartender took the Gold Coin and asked, “Any specific requirements? Assassination? Infiltration? Theft?”

“No assassination needed. I need someone skilled at breaking Magic Traps. The task involves sneaking into a Mage’s Tower, investigating traps, drawing maps, and finding secret rooms and hidden passages.”

Upon hearing this, the Orcish Bartender frowned and said, “That might be difficult to find. Most adventurers have left Alchemy City recently. It won’t be that easy to find the right person.”

“Don’t worry, your reward will be generous,” Masstar said confidently.

The Orcish Bartender immediately smiled upon hearing this and said to Masstar, “What a coincidence, I happen to know the right people. They are right here.”

Then, the Orcish Bartender called out loudly, “Hasting, Hales, there’s work for you.”