Beast Devourer: I Grow Stronger by Eating Monsters

The Strategic Materials Guild was six blocks away.

It took Raven three hours to get someone to explain that he was in the wrong building.

That was new.

He had survived execution attempts, gas, explosions, magical beasts, parasites, and a Royal Bloodborn who apparently found the idea of being devoured exciting.

A Dunvar clerk nearly defeated him with a service window.

The fourth office finally accepted his application.

A gray-haired woman took the Keller Mining documents, his mercenary badge, and the acquisition form.

”Intended use.”

”Manufacturing.”

”What kind?”

”Weapon.”

That got her attention.

”Enchanted weapon?”

”Something like that.”

Valeria, seated beside him, murmured, ”Excellent description.”

Raven continued.

”I need high mana-pressure resistance and structural stability.”

The clerk wrote it down.

”Weaponsmith authorization?”

”No.”

”Alchemical license?”

”No.”

”Guild sponsorship?”

”No.”

”Military contract?”

”No.”

Her pen stopped.

”Any authorization recognized by the Crown?”

Raven considered the question.

”I’m a mercenary.”

The woman looked at him.

Valeria turned her head slightly to hide her smile.

”That doesn’t count either.”

”I suspected as much.”

The clerk picked up his badge to copy the information.

Then she stopped.

Raven noticed immediately.

Her eyes moved from the badge to the application, then back to the name.

Raven Ashford.

She checked something beneath the desk.

Her bored expression disappeared.

”One moment.”

She stood and vanished through a side door.

Raven followed her with his eyes.

So did Valeria.

”That wasn’t normal.”

”No.”

”Problem with my registration?”

”Possibly.”

”I haven’t done anything in Dunvar.”

”Yet.”

Raven looked at her.

”That was unnecessary.”

”I was being precise.”

The clerk returned with a middle-aged man in dark blue robes.

He didn’t sit.

Instead, he took Raven’s badge, examined the back, then compared it to a document the clerk had brought with her.

”Raven Ashford.”

”That’s usually the name.”

The man ignored him.

”Registered in Greyhaven several weeks ago. Foreign origin. No recognized Asterian lineage.”

”Yes.”

His eyes moved to Valeria.

”Currently associated with Lady Valeria von Nacht.”

Valeria crossed one leg over the other.

”If there is a question, asking it would be faster.”

”No offense intended, milady.”

”Then we’re making progress.”

He looked back at Raven.

”Your file has been moved into aristocratic review.”

Raven stared at him.

”No.”

The official paused.

Raven pointed at himself.

”I’m not a noble.”

”Legally, no.”

”Good.”

”Administratively, that is currently irrelevant.”

Raven went silent.

Valeria’s smile became dangerous.

The official continued before Raven could decide whether bureaucracy was something Stonehide could solve.

”A recognized noble House has filed a formal interest notice concerning you, and you are traveling under the direct association of another noble House. For strategic-material transactions, that places your application under noble-dispute protocol.”

Raven looked at Valeria.

”So I’m a noble now.”

She finally laughed.

The official looked uncomfortable.

”You are not being granted nobility.”

”But you’re processing me as one.”

”For this matter.”

Raven considered that.

”Apparently I’m a noble now.”

”Again, technically—”

”Don’t ruin it,” Valeria said.

The official decided not to continue that argument.

Instead, he looked down at the file.

”House Orbrecht submitted the interest notice.”

There it was.

Raven had expected consequences.

He simply hadn’t known when they would arrive.

”Why?”

”The notice does not allege criminal guilt.”

”That didn’t answer the question.”

The official hesitated.

Valeria answered instead.

”Cassian.”

The man avoided looking at her.

Confirmation enough.

Raven rested his forearms on the table.

”Cassian Orbrecht is dead.”

”Correct.”

”I fail to see how that affects a metal purchase.”

”It normally would not.”

”But it does.”

”House Orbrecht requested additional review of transactions involving individuals connected to the incident.”

Raven looked at him.

”That sounds like an elegant way of saying they’re trying to block me.”

The official chose his words carefully.

”House Orbrecht maintains commercial relationships with several concessions and refiners in Dunvar. They are entitled to raise concerns regarding strategic materials.”

Valeria spoke.

”They have no administrative authority here.”

”Not directly.”

”Then process the application.”

”Lady von Nacht, the quantity and purity requested already required aristocratic approval. The Orbrecht notice adds a second review.”

Raven looked down at the form.

”I arrived as a mercenary and became an aristocratic problem before lunch.”

Valeria smiled.

”You’re adapting quickly.”

Raven returned his attention to the official.

”Can they accuse me of anything?”

”There is no arrest order.”

”Criminal investigation?”

”None listed.”

”Formal accusation?”

”No.”

”Then they’re just being annoying.”

The man didn’t smile.

”I would not use that wording in an official record.”

”I would.”

Valeria intervened before Raven got himself removed from his newly acquired aristocratic bureaucracy.

”How long?”

The official visibly preferred that question.

”Normally, seven to twelve days.”

”And now?”

”Your application requires review of provenance, intended use, sponsorship, and objections from Houses with recognized interests.”

Raven already disliked the answer.

”How long?”

”Three weeks to two months.”

Silence.

Raven looked at the desk.

Then at the official.

”I’d rather fight another Elite.”

The man seemed uncertain whether that was a threat.

Valeria wasn’t.

”Believe me, he doesn’t mean that figuratively.”

They left without a license.

Raven had arrived in Dunvar with money, authentic documents, a probable source of Black Mithril, and enough information to know exactly what he needed.

He still couldn’t buy it.

Worse, he had somehow become involved in aristocratic politics without acquiring land, servants, income, or any of the other things Raven assumed were supposed to make nobility worthwhile.

That was irritating.

Valeria walked beside him along an avenue lined with commercial offices.

”You’re thinking about stealing it.”

”I’m considering alternatives.”

”That means you’re thinking about stealing it.”

”Not exclusively.”

”Extortion?”

Raven looked at her.

”Now you’re understanding.”

Valeria laughed.

”I’m glad our time together is producing personal growth.”

”How much influence does Orbrecht have here?”

”Less than Helmont. More than I’d like.”

”Cassian didn’t seem important enough for this.”

”Cassian wasn’t.”

”But his surname was.”

Valeria nodded.

”His death created a political problem even if he was personally expendable. A noble House doesn’t need to love one of its members to find it inconvenient when someone can kill him without consequences.”

”Especially if it makes them look weak.”

”Exactly.”

Raven understood that perfectly.

Black Hound had worked with governments that operated on the same principle.

It didn’t always matter who died.

What mattered was what allowing the death appeared to communicate.

”Do they know it was me?”

”They probably suspect.”

”You were there.”

”That’s why they’ve been asking about me too.”

Raven stopped.

Valeria continued two steps before turning around.

”You didn’t mention that.”

”It didn’t seem relevant until now.”

”That’s usually something I say.”

”I’m learning.”

Raven studied her.

”Does your House have problems with Orbrecht?”

Valeria smiled faintly.

”My House has problems with many Houses. It’s one of our oldest traditions.”

”That didn’t answer the question.”

”Orbrecht won’t begin an open dispute with von Nacht over Cassian. Especially because any investigation thorough enough to become dangerous might expose why he was using indebted workers as bait for monsters.”

Raven remembered the nobleman.

”So they don’t want justice.”

”They want compensation, leverage, or reassurance that his death didn’t make them appear vulnerable.”

”More reasonable.”

Valeria looked at him.

”Your definition of reasonable remains concerning.”

They continued walking.

Raven studied the company plaques lining both sides of the avenue.

Keller.

Helmont.

Veyn Refining.

Dunvar Mining Cooperative.

Dozens more.

Killing a creature was simple.

Identify the threat.

Find the weakness.

Kill it.

Here, every threat came with contracts.

”I need someone who can remove the review.”

”Yes.”

”Helmont.”

Valeria looked mildly surprised.

”You learn quickly.”

”They control the major concessions.”

”And several special licenses. Authorization from a Helmont of sufficient rank could reduce your wait from two months to a few hours.”

”Then I need to speak with one.”

”That will be harder.”

”Why?”

”Because Lord Edric Helmont does not receive unknown mercenaries who want military-grade materials.”

Raven glanced back toward the guild building.

”Apparently I’m not an unknown mercenary anymore.”

Valeria smiled.

”No. Now you’re an aristocratic complication.”

Raven considered that.

”Is that better?”

”Much worse.”

”Good. I was worried Dunvar was becoming simple.”