With This Treasure, I Summon Primordial Weapons
Chapter 17: The Leader

Chapter 17: The Leader

"I’ll start." The man took the room the way a good host takes a coat, before anyone could think to object.

"My name is Torr." He paused, pressed his hand to his chest and gave a small bow, a courtesy so smooth he must’ve done it a thousand times. "I keep things running around here. Second in command, you could say. Oh, and my apologies for the climb. I’d tell you that you get used to it, but you really don’t."

He smiled at the last part. It was a warm smile, as well-worn as the bow, the kind that made a person want to apologise for having been suspicious in the first place.

It did, however, stop somewhere short of his eyes.

"I’m Godric."

"Raven."

"Godric. Raven." He said the names slowly, once each, as though setting them down somewhere he would be able to find them again.

Then he picked up a notebook from the table to his right, flipped a couple of pages, and wrote. The pen was a stub, its end whittled down with a knife. The notebook’s spine had been repaired with what looked like boot leather.

There was something impressive about the idea of a settlement inside the dungeon gate being organised well enough to keep records of everyone inside.

"Welcome," the man continued shortly after. "It has been far too long since we had the pleasure of seeing some new faces. I know it must be a lot to take in. You walk into a dungeon gate, and you come out here, of all places."

His voice matched the smile. He sounded almost gentle, speaking in a tone that could talk a kleptomaniac out of stealing.

The room went quiet for a moment, and Godric had the feeling that it wasn’t accidental.

Torr leaned back slightly in his chair as his gaze shifted between him and Raven, as though he could read them through silence better than conversation.

"I’m going to ask a few questions. Nothing out of the ordinary, just enough so we can get an idea of who you are." He turned the pen over once between his fingers. "Let’s begin with something simple." He leaned forward and brought the pen toward the notebook. "What is the relationship between the two of you?"

Godric and Raven exchanged a glance before replying at the same time.

"He’s my mentee."

"She’s a stalker."

Torr blinked.

His gaze shifted between the two of them as they completely froze.

Then his expression softened, and he wrote down a single word.

Complicated.

"Let’s move on to your summons. Let’s start with Raven. Please tell me a little about your summon."

Raven hesitated for a moment.

Godric could see her calculate how little information was enough to satisfy the man’s question before she finally replied.

"It flies and uses lightning element."

"Lightning." The pen stopped, and Torr looked up. "That’s rare. Very interesting."

His gaze then moved toward Godric. "Now, Godric, what can your summon do?"

Godric’s reply came fast.

"It’s complicated."

The silence came back, and this time Godric knew exactly why.

Torr stared deeply into his eyes, as though he could read his memories through them.

"I see." Torr set the pen down without writing anything.

It wasn’t uncommon for a summon to have abilities that were too complicated to explain in words alone, so the answer wasn’t completely unreasonable.

"Well then... That should do for now." He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. "I won’t bore you with the rules, Astrea will walk you through those. But there is one small matter we have to attend before you two can officially join us."

’Here it comes.’

Ever since Astrea had mentioned the ones who were sent away and never returned, Godric had been waiting for the catch. And now it seemed he was about to find out what it was.

"Nothing to worry about," Torr said, as though he had caught something in Godric’s face. "It won’t take long."

He turned toward the door, but before he could take even a single step toward it, the door swung open, and a figure stepped inside.

He was tall, silver-white hair cut short above a long coat that had somehow survived six years without fraying.

What struck Godric the most was his age, or rather the absence of it. The man could have been thirty-five or sixty, and something about the stillness of his face made both guesses feel wrong.

"Boss?"

Torr straightened immediately. His entire presence shrank upon the man’s entry.

"I met Astrea outside," he said. "She told me we had some newcomers, so I decided to come welcome them by myself."

The silver-headed man took a few more steps inside, reaching the centre of the room. His gaze shifted between Raven and Godric a dozen times, as though he was learning a new thing about them with each glance.

"My name is Daren Stormbourne. I’m the leader of this settlement."

Something flickered through Raven’s expression.

Stormbourne.

Her family name and a stranger she had never seen before.

Godric saw her gaze lose focus for a moment, as though she tried reaching some distant memory before she finally replied.

"Raven," she bowed in a courtly manner which caught Daren’s eye immediately.

"Raven...?" He let the name hang, waiting for the rest.

"...Greyclaw. Raven Greyclaw."

"Greyclaw..." Daren held her gaze as though he could read through the stone-cold expression on her face. "I can’t say I recognise the name. Where are you from?"

"Elyune City. The outskirts."

Something twitched in Daren’s expression at the latter part. And he wasn’t the only one.

Godric caught it immediately.

Anyone who had been to the outskirts more than once would know that there was no such thing as bowing or courtesy for those who struggled for every meal.

The next moment of silence felt heavier, as though Daren’s gaze locked on someone he was about to ’send away’.

’Astrea has been stuck here for six years. The man in charge of building this place from the ground up must’ve been here much longer. If she didn’t know the empire fell, then they might not know about that either.’

"My name is Godric Blackstar." He cut in before Raven’s lie could unfold. "I haven’t been able to see everything yet, but I must say you’ve done well here."

"Blackstar?" Daren’s eyes widened, not much, just enough to notice. Even Torr, who stood completely still as though trying not to fall under Daren’s focus, shifted at the sound of the name.

Godric stepped forward, extended his arm, and Daren returned the gesture.

The silver-headed man’s cold expression remained unchanged.

For a moment, Godric found himself wondering whether his gamble worked or not. The exact math wasn’t possible without knowing how long the man had been here, but with Raven’s lie already unravelling, he had no other cards he could play.

Luckily, Daren shifted a second later.

Still holding Godric’s hand, he turned toward Torr, who visibly tensed under the man’s gaze. "The room on the sixth floor, it’s free, isn’t it?"

Torr blinked, then quickly snapped himself out of it. "...Yes, sir. It was recently... emptied."

"Good," Daren replied, finally letting go of Godric’s hand, which he held far longer than a simple handshake required. "Godric will stay there from now on."

Godric thanked him with a small nod, the way nobles thank others for things they already expected to have.

Acting like one of the spoiled brats belonging to one of the great houses didn’t require much thought. What did steal some of Godric’s focus, however, was the word Torr had used.

The room he was about to take wasn’t empty.

It was emptied.