Chapter 189 (2/2)

Claptrap remained silent, struggling to process all the new information that she was dumping on him. She frowned at him, and asked, “Do you feel guilty, for all of that profit? Is that why you went to the Engraver Guild Branch?”

Still Claptrap remained silent, and Ciel asked, continuing, “Were you going to turn yourself in? There is still a lot of profit to be made, if your connection is still good.”

Finally Claptrap came back to himself, feeling strangely guilty. Had she thought that…? “What? No, I just... “

“Good, because as I’m sure you’ve worked out… the Steel Feather Style is very interested in what you’ve been doing. If you wait a few minutes-” She was interrupted by the opening of the door, and a man with a huge bristling beard walked through the door, with a beaming smile.

“Ah good! Ciel, you’ve already brought him. Welcome, Mr. Claptrap, I am Harnor Tath, the vice-patriarch of the Steel Feather Style in charge of training. Would you like something to drink, some food?”

With the new arrival, Ciel visibly withdrew, leaning back in her chair in relaxing, content that she had served her purpose. Because to her, their connection was just that. A coincidental previous series of encounters that she didn’t associate with any particular emotion other than… reassuring. It was extremely… Something. Claptrap couldn’t understand even what he was feeling right now, it was just a giant numb bundle that escaped his understanding, roaring in his chest.

But he was still a merchant. And the whole reason that he had left was because Claptrap knew that was all he was to her, even if he wanted to be more. He needed to be more than just a clerk. He needed to be a man, and this was his chance. And although he was strangely empty, he squared his shoulders and focused on Harnor Tath, to talk business.

As he did so, Claptrap grew very still. He would not have noticed it a few weeks ago, but there was something… indefinite about Harnor Tath. A potency to the air around him. Claptrap did not have much of a concept of strength. He simply didn’t associate very much with spear-users in situations where they displayed their strength. But recently Claptrap had spent a lot of time with the Ghosthound, and his spear attendants. He even had met the Ghosthound’s master, who was the son of the storied Spear Phantom.

This man… was a cut above that level of strength. The very air seemed to wiggle around him, filled with a strange, something. As his scrutiny and shock became obvious, Harnor simply smiled and laughed. “...perhaps I’ve underestimated you. Very few merchants notice. But yes… I am at the Adept level. What you are sensing is that I’m at the cusp of being able to become a Pontiff. But that cusp is a difficult threshold to cross.”

Ciel rolled her eyes. “Dad’s being generous. The fact that he’s this strong at his age is very impressive. It’s almost guaranteed that he will be named a Pontiff in his lifetime.”

“Nothing’s guaranteed,” Harnor said calmly, flashing a special smile at Ciel.

Claptrap became decidedly light headed. It was one thing to find out that the girl you had a crush on barely remembered you at all; it was another to then directly be plunged into a business discussion with her father, who was far, far, far, far above you in terms of personal and political power. He found his tongue thick and clumsy, unable speak.

Harnor then turned his attention back to Claptrap and began to ask more pointed questions about the equipment, the connection, the different runes available, and prices. After a time, Ciel excused herself and left, allowing them to continue the discussion in peace. Watching her leave hurt, but it swiftly made it much easier for Claptrap to speak, allowing the discussions to proceed much more swiftly.

“Is it a money issue?” Harnor asked quietly, with a frown on his face. Claptrap had previously said that while the offer was generously, he wasn’t sure if his connection would be able to produce much volume for a time. “And if it’s not the money, why- Ah, that individual is in the Regional Tournament, isn’t he? Or she. As my Ciel proves, power isn’t dependant on gender.”

Claptrap flushed red. He tried to think about a clever way to dismiss Harnor’s speculations, but couldn’t find any easy lines for why he would come to the city now, and why the flow of Engraved equipments would also coincidentally stop right now. It was too simple.

But at the same time, Claptrap was deathly afraid of what would happen if the Engraving Guild could discover the identity of the Ghosthound. If they did, they would take action against the Ghosthound long before they would come after him. Eliminating the supply of unofficially Engraved equipment was much more important than punishing the merchant that sold it, or at least Claptrap hoped so.

So all Claptrap could do was open his mouth, close it, and then shrug helplessly. Harnor smiled.

“Well, then that’s fine. You have our offer. If you have product you want to move, come to the Steel Feather Style and state that you are a friend of Ciel’s; I’ll have word put out to the guards that will bring you to the right people.”

Harnor got up to leave, and then hesitated at the door, before turning back around towards Claptrap. “Ah, and one free piece of advice. The preliminaries of the Regional Tournament this year… Tell your friend that what is important is perseverance. I hope to hear from you soon.”