Now that the three are in the city, Ralf splits up from them after they secure an inn room so that they might search for Derflinger faster. Tiffania goes with Michael as he doesn't exactly trust her or this city to not eventually discover her identity. He at least wanted to be there to save her ass if shit did hit the fan after all.
Ralf leaves to go see if he could find any information of value while the duo begins walking around the streets of Tristania to look for the smithy that sells Derflinger. This isn't as easy as Michael would have anticipated however, as there are far more smithy's, workshops, weapon stores, and armourers than he'd realised.
Indeed, even his memory of the shop from the anime was pretty fuzzy at this point. He could remember that it was some back alley place run by some rat-faced man who liked to con customers with fake or useless decorative blades. Saito only found that fact out halfway through a battle though, which Michael was more than happy to have avoided that fate.
Fortunately, the search only lasted around two and a half hours after the duo started asking civilians for directions. Even if when most strangers were worried about speaking with anyone they didn't already trust... Man, General Gramont has really torn this city a new asshole.
*Driing!*
A bell chime rings out as Michael and Tiffania step into the shop, his eyes almost instantly locking onto the small faced, smug-looking man at the counter. Indeed, the anime didn't portray him as accurately as it should have, as this man looked like a rat in human form... How anyone could trade with this guy without triple-checking things was a mystery to Michael.
"Ah, welcome customers! What would you have need of today, hmm?" the man asks while rubbing both of his clasped hands together.
Michael just ignores it and gets on with his goal however, "I'm looking for a sword, a unique sword that I am told you had in stock." he says while glancing around, quickly finding the wooden barrel where Derflinger had been kept in the anime.
"Oh? And what sword might that be? I have a few unique germanian blades in stock if you wished to peruse them? Might I ask you to be careful though, they are each worth more than this shop itself." the rat-faced man says, most likely setting up a scam where he'd have them break an 'expensive' blade and make them pay for it. Maybe even suggesting to get the guards involved.
Michael frowns, not because of the man, but because he couldn't find what he was looking for... "Shopkeep, the blade I'm looking for calls itself Derflinger. It has the ability to speak and should be heavily rusted..."
...
The shopkeep's tongue flicks at his lips as he looks thoughtful, "Ah, that annoying little thing? I sold it to someone many days ago, said they thought a sword that could hurt and be hurt was an amusing thought." he shrugs noncommittally, losing interest in the duo as he realises they weren't going to buy anything.
Michael lets out a sigh as Tiffania turns towards the shopkeep, "Do you know who might have bought it, please? It would help us out a lot if you could." she asks, as the rat-faced man finally takes an interest in her... Specifically her 'curves'.
"Why, I might be able to remember something... If you helped job my memory a bit." he says with a lascivious smile appearing on his face.
Michael pushes Tiffania behind him as he grips the hilt of his swords with one hand and walks over to the desk, grabbing the man around his throat with the other and squeezing until he hears his spine start popping. "Will this help then? I heard blunt force trauma was a good way to recall things, we can test that next if you like?" he says, releasing his grip slightly to allow the man to talk.
The shopkeep cough and splitters as he tries to catch his breath, glaring at Michael with a great deal of animosity, "I... If I tell you who they are, they will kill me. They will hang me in the square with every other 'dissident'... I'd rather die to you than them!" he spits, clearly more fearful of 'them' than he is of Michael.
Michael shakes his head with faux-mirth, "Do you know who I am? I'm the one that killed Guiche de Gramont, destroyed Antomiers, helped take back Albion. I'm the one 'King' Gramont wants to kill the most, and you think anything they could do to you would be worse than me!? Don't fuck with me you piece of shit!" he growls, holding up his hand and letting orange sparks crackle between his fingers with a half-cast EtherShock spell.
The shopkeep gulps at the sight, having heard of the 'False-Familiar' all around the capital. Indeed, unbeknownst to Michael, people had started making up stories of him. Most of them were perpetrated by the now 'King' Gramont and his men.
"P-please, promise they won't find out if I tell you... Promise on your life!" the man begs, and Michael nods. "O-Okay... It, it was a new commander, someone called Nicolas Grimpt... That's all I know, I swear!"
Michael shakes his head, "You must know more than that, what does he look like? Sound like? Did he have an entourage? Where does he reside!?"
Fortunately, getting all this info apart from the latter question was fairly easy to do. Now that the hypothetical dam had broken, the man was more than willing to give up all he knew.
And, with all that said and done, Michael snaps the man's neck with ease. He shoves the corpse behind the counter and out of view of the street and turns towards Tiffania who he'd expected to look shocked, but apparently wasn't.
She shrugs, "He knew too much... And I didn't like the way he was looking at me. It does feel wasteful though." she admits, taking one last glance at the corpse before ignoring it.
Michael presents his elbow to her, "Maybe, but I didn't like the way he was looking at you either. Come on, let's see if we can find out a bit more about 'Commander Nicolas Grimpt' before we meet back up with Ralf." he says, as they both leave, Michael not forgetting to turn the sign on the door to 'Closed'.
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A few hours later the duo return to their inn with a better idea of just what sort of person Nicolas Grimpt actually was. Most people either didn't know him at all or were reluctant to say a word on the subject, but with some persuasion(Tiffania bending over slightly and Michael bribing them), they were able to gather a bit about the man.
Firstly, he was greatly feared before he'd even gotten become the Commander of Tristania's defences. Most knew of stories from back then that the man would strut around wearing full plate armour except for the helmet, trying to goad people into picking fights with him at bars.
The man wasn't all that impressive of a fighter, but since he was wearing armour and using his heavy metal gauntlets as weapons, most fights ended up with his opponents getting knocked out, crippled, permanently deformed, and some even dying from the trauma to their heads.
Things didn't get any better once he became the Commander of the City's Defence though, the man quickly becoming paranoid that there were assassins coming after him. Now, apparently, even in his home he wore full plate armour, only ever revealing his face to eat or drink, and using a specifically designed flap in the armour to relieve himself.
His servants sometimes spoke about how bad the man smelled. Since he never bathed and was always in his sweaty armour, you'd know if he was coming your way simply due to the sheer stench of him.
lastly, there were rumours of his servants occasionally going missing, with no word of where they'd gone, why, or even how. Though, some speculated it was Nicolas who was the one responsible...
All in all, Michael wouldn't feel an ounce of pity cutting him down and taking back Derflinger. So that was a positive he supposed.
Back in their inn room, they walk in and find Ralf already sitting at a desk with a tea set prepared, one cup in his hand and two already prepared for them. "I'm guessing you did not find the blade?" Ralf asks, as if he already knew something.
Michael crooks a brow, "Yeah, how'd you know?"
Ralf nods and sips his drink, gesturing for them to join him. "Because I attended an execution held in the town square, and noticed that it wasn't just the prisoners that were screaming. The executioner's blade also seemed to be screaming..." he says, causing Michael and Tiffania to glance at one another.
"How did we miss that?" Michael mutters, rubbing the teenage-stubble growing again on his face.
Ralf shrugs, "It was not an official execution I heard, it was sudden and ended just a quickly. Still, now that we know who owns the blade, we can recover it and leave just as soon."
"After we find the prayer book, you mean?" Tiffania says, more excited about finally learning some Void magic than Michael had thought.
Ralf nods, "Of course, though, I suspect the Princess and Miss Valliere too kit during their escape. A good portion of the palace is still being rebuilt from an explosion the Valliere had cast. And rumours of her dark magic have spread to most corners of the city."
"Yeah, I don't know how true it is, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was." he says, having also heard about the magic Louise had cast. It sounded more along the lines of a gravity-based spell than anything else, meaning she had likely started mastering her magic already. Regardless, they couldn't leave it to chance, so he'd check the palace anyway.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day the trio are awoken and meet up at the window to see what was happening. Only for them to see lines and lines of soldiers waiting next to the gate... It was an entire army, and Michale had no idea why they were here, nor if they were here for them.
Fortunately, it seems that the trio wasn't their target. A man with short blond hair and a goatee on his stern-looking face walks up in front of the army, his arms held behind his back in an authoritative stance.
The crown sitting on his head and decorative armour was the only real way for Michael to tell who he was, besides all of the soldiers straightening their backs and stomping on the ground in unison as he steps up. This was the 'new' King Gramont.
"He doesn't look like much." Michael mutters, glancing to his companions to see their reactions. Both also seem pretty disinterested.
Ralf instead just points at some of the nearest soldiers, specifically their expression, "That man doesn't seem to inspire more loyalty... These people look ready to rebel against him at the drop of a hat." he remarks.
"Well, this coupe did only happen recently... Maybe most of them are still loyal to the Princess?" Tiffania asks.
Michael shakes his head, "Why haven't they rebelled then? They must outnumber Gramont's men as it is."
"No. They are loyal to their country, and understand the situation they are in. If they start fighting, there will be nothing to stop the other countries from taking Tristain. There must be someone coordinating this all however, I do not believe regular soldiers would be able to stop themselves otherwise."
The trio is interrupted from their talk when King Gramont begins addressing his army, "Men! Today we will make our first mark on Tristain's history! Our first act to save our beloved country from those that would seek to destroy us!" the man shouts as he points towards the city gates, "WE ARE ON THE CUSP OF DESTRUCTION! SO WE MUST TAKE DRASTIC ACTION TO PRESERVE OURSELVES! WE WILL MARCH ON OUR OWN MAGICAL ACADEMY AND TAKE HOSTAGE THE FOREIGNERS! WITH THEM SECURE! THE ENEMY WOULD NEVER DARE BREATH IN OUR DIRECTION! LET ALONE ATTACK US!"
...
"Well, shit." Michael mutters, feeling slightly bad as this is probably is fault... To some degree at least.
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