Beast Devourer: I Grow Stronger by Eating Monsters

Valeria raised an eyebrow.

”’Let’s.’”

Raven opened the door.

”I’m going to start charging you every time you do that.”

”In crowns?”

”I’m still calculating a sufficiently painful rate.”

”I’m curious to see it.”

”That’s part of the problem.”

---

The Mercenary House was quieter than it had been the previous afternoon.

Raven appreciated that.

The local fame from the Blackmaw had lasted exactly long enough to become annoying.

He still got looks.

Some discreet.

Others less so.

A Copper mercenary sitting by the wall stopped drinking when Raven passed. Two Irons murmured something while looking at his weapons. A man with a scar across his nose looked at Valeria, then Raven, then apparently decided he had more important things to do with his life.

Raven considered that an improvement.

The gray-haired woman behind the counter saw him approaching.

”No.”

Raven stopped.

”I haven’t said anything yet.”

”That never helps.”

Valeria reached his side.

”Good morning.”

The woman greeted her with a considerably more polite nod.

”Lady von Nacht.”

Raven placed his badge on the counter.

”I need to register a route.”

The clerk looked at him.

Then at the badge.

”You’re leaving Greyhaven?”

”Yes.”

She looked slightly relieved.

”Excellent.”

Raven raised an eyebrow.

”That sounded personal.”

”Yesterday you came back with a dead noble and a partially dismantled Elite.”

”Technically, the Elite was completely dead.”

”That’s not the part that concerns me.”

She pulled out a form.

”Destination.”

”Sablewood.”

Her quill stopped.

”The forest?”

”I don’t know another one.”

”There’s a town called Sablewood to the north.”

Raven thought about it.

”Then the forest.”

”Purpose.”

Raven looked at the form.

”Travel.”

She looked up.

”I need something more specific.”

”Hunting.”

”Target?”

”Arc Needle Wasp.”

She wrote it down.

”That’s considerably more reasonable.”

Valeria rested both arms on the counter.

”You shouldn’t say that.”

The clerk stopped writing.

Raven looked at Valeria.

”Don’t help.”

”I’m only trying to protect her from false expectations.”

The woman breathed through her nose.

”Estimated Level?”

”Nine to fourteen.”

That visibly improved her mood.

”Common or low Awakened.”

”Yes.”

”Contract?”

”No.”

She stopped again.

”Then why are you hunting one?”

Raven considered answering honestly.

I need to tear out its electrical organ and install it inside a weapon from another world that might eventually let people without Bloodlines punch holes through mages from hundreds of yards away.

That didn’t seem like necessary information.

”Materials.”

The woman accepted that.

Normal enough.

”Estimated duration.”

Raven looked at Valeria.

She answered.

”Four to six days to the outer region if the road is clear. Plus however long it takes us to find the right nest.”

The clerk looked back at Raven.

”Are you returning afterward?”

”Not immediately.”

”Next destination?”

Raven pulled out a small map.

”Mirevale.”

The woman started writing.

”After that?”

”Dunvar.”

The quill stopped again.

”After that?”

”The Velis Plains.”

Silence.

”After that?”

Raven pointed west.

”Kharad.”

The woman slowly looked up.

”That’s not a route.”

”Yes, it is.”

”That’s almost a circuit of the kingdom.”

”Also true.”

Valeria smiled.

The clerk set down the quill.

”What exactly are you hunting?”

”Several things.”

”Of course.”

”Is that a problem?”

”Not legally. But the magistrate asked that you register your movements in case House Orbrecht files a formal claim. If you’re going to disappear for months, I need it documented.”

Raven looked at the form.

”Months?”

Valeria intervened.

”Six or seven weeks if nothing goes wrong.”

The clerk looked at her.

Then at Raven.

”So, months.”

Raven didn’t argue.

He had learned quickly how travel estimates worked in Veyr.

If someone said two days, there was a reasonable chance something would try to eat you on the third.

The woman wrote down the destinations.

”Are you traveling with Lady von Nacht?”

Raven opened his mouth.

”Yes,” Valeria said.

Raven looked at her.

”No.”

The clerk looked up.

Valeria maintained a perfectly innocent expression.

”We’re going to the same places.”

”That doesn’t mean—”

”Are you traveling together from Greyhaven to Sablewood?”

Raven paused.

”Yes.”

”Then toward Mirevale?”

”Probably.”

”And Dunvar?”

Raven looked at Valeria.

She was smiling.

”Probably.”

The clerk pointed at the form.

”Then for administrative purposes, you’re traveling together.”

Raven considered arguing bureaucracy with someone who had probably spent twenty years defeating mercenaries on exactly that battlefield.

Some fights were unnecessary.

”Fine.”

Valeria looked far too pleased.

The woman finished the document.

”I need an emergency contact or associated House.”

”None.”

”Raven.”

”I don’t have a House.”

”You have Iron rank now, and you’ve registered an expedition outside Greyhaven. We need someone to notify if you die.”

Raven thought about it.

”You could not notify anyone.”

The woman stared at him.

”No.”

”Then send it to the Asterian government.”

”That’s not how this works.”

Valeria slid two fingers across the paper.

”House von Nacht.”

Raven turned.

”No.”

The clerk was already writing.

”Accepted.”

”I just said no.”

”Lady von Nacht has the right to register individuals under her travel contact as long as she accepts notification responsibility.”

”I’m not her employee.”

”I didn’t say you were.”

Valeria smiled.

”It’s just bureaucracy.”

Raven stared at her.

”I’m going to remember that sentence the next time you try to avoid taxes.”

”That was cruel.”

”That was the intention.”

The clerk stamped the document.

”Route registered.”

Raven picked up his badge.

”Anything else?”

”Yes.”

She opened a drawer and took out a small metal token.

”Sablewood outpost. Show this at the local House. Your Greyhaven rank will be provisionally recognized.”

Raven took the token.

”That was actually useful.”

”Thank you.”

”That wasn’t a compliment.”

”I’ll take it as one.”

Valeria started laughing before Raven had even finished turning away.

---

Greyhaven’s western market occupied three streets and smelled of leather, spices, smoked meat, sweat, and animals.

Raven preferred shopping there.

The merchants near the Mercenary House had learned that poorly prepared adventurers would pay almost anything if you labeled it expedition grade.

Raven had seen an ordinary canteen advertised as a Mercenary Survival Vessel for four times its actual value.

Humanity had survived in another world.

Maybe not biologically.

But spiritually.

Marketing was universal.

”We need six more packs of dried meat,” Raven said.

Valeria looked at the basket.

”We already have eight.”

”Twelve.”

”Raven.”

”Regeneration.”

”You can’t use that word to justify every food purchase.”

Raven looked at two blocks of aged cheese.

Added them.

”I just did.”

The merchant smiled.

Valeria pointed at Raven.

”Don’t encourage him.”

”I didn’t say anything, milady.”

”Your face did.”

They bought enough food for more than a week, even accounting for Raven’s new metabolism.

Then came the alchemical containers.

Those were more expensive.