Chương 11: Arden Ring
Stillore: Shard and Canvas · Ludwika · 123 chương · ~42 phút đọc · Tạo 04/08/2026
The boy dressed quickly, putting on the pair of black glasses NOIR had left in the box." I wonder if they think I have poor eyesight?" He thought, unfolding the black frames and setting them on his ears. Jeanne had been woken by Lance through a method that was approximately crude and primitive: repeatedly banging pots together in imitation of a thunderclap.
"Sorry! We gotta get ready!" He apologised while pulling on his uniform, which had returned to its clean, fitted athletic silhouette. He tied on his beloved asymmetric jacket. Jeanne came down the stairs in a hurry, collected her clothes from the suitcase he had left on the table, and disappeared to get ready. Since the only room with a lock was the bathroom, Lance and Jeanne had established shifts, but he always woke first and always made use of that advantage.
The girl emerged a short time later, dressed entirely in black from head to foot. The only colour was the watch strap Maverick had sent them, which changed colour to distinguish between its owners.
"Where… Are we going?" She asked, working her light-brown hair into a long braid.
"Round knocked because — OH NO, ROUND!" He realised, remembering the butler whose face he had very firmly shut the door on.
"I AM MORTIFIED, MR. ROUND!" He apologised, throwing the door open and bowing his head in embarrassment.
"As I was saying…" Round was in the exact posture in which Lance had left him, one finger waggling in the air as if he had been tracing small circles.
"Arden Ring is a district built on the outer crater of Bayork, in the adjacent forest, to be precise." He cleared his throat.
"It is well known among travellers and visitors seeking… A certain kind of comfort, if I may use the term. However, it is also frequented by nobles and prominent bourgeoisie from the inner Boulevards."
"I understood perfectly well what kind of area it was when you said pleasure district..." Lance said dryly, declining to imagine the comfort Round was referring to.
"NOIR has requested an investigation into a series of disappearances occurring among the brothels and establishments of the quarter." Round resumed without acknowledging the remark.
"What kind of disappearances?" He asked. The word sat heavily.
"Women and travellers…" He paused for a moment. Both the recruiters fell silent, regaining the same composure as last night.
"It was initially assumed that a Singularity in the area might be responsible, but agents Ryes and Sai found no trace of a creature outpost in the vicinity."
"I see… So you want the two of us to go into those streets and look for leads. Have I understood correctly?" He looked at him sceptically.
"Commander Net and Agent Clerc have deemed both you and Miss Goghette more than competent to manage the situation." Lance tilted his chin up, thinking it through. The idea of finding some lead on Jude, and perhaps doing something about his social problem in the process, surfaced and settled.
"Don't worry, it will be done!" He closed the door more slowly this time.
"I'll be waiting in the car at the front entrance, Agent Klint." Round said, turning toward the stairs. Jeanne was occupied with the remains of the sweet box Lucas had left the day before, a large cup of strangely pale and luminous coffee beside her. Lance simply walked around the table, took the cup of black, bitter coffee he'd prepared for himself earlier, and settled into a chair. The girl finally noticed him, swallowing an enormous quantity of sugar that had been blocking her throat.
Without a word, she opened a small brown bowl, revealing white sugar cubes inside." To be honest, I wouldn't have thought that NOIR was this loaded." Usually, sugar cubes were something only the rich could afford regularly, since the method of extraction was rather troublesome and not suitable for mass production.
"Thank you, but I prefer it… As it is." He smiled, sipping from his cup, the colour of tar.
"But isn't it… Too… B-bitter?" She asked, closing the container. Her own cup rested on the cloth she'd laid across her lap. She reached for it quickly, curling her fingers around the handle. The beige colour of that coffee was extremely peculiar to Lance, who had always drunk his without sugar or milk. He watched in mild astonishment as Jeanne swallowed the steaming liquid in a single go. She set the cup slowly on the table, pressed a warm cloth to her lips, and sighed with satisfaction.
Lance took the cup from the table, noticing there was still one mouthful left." I don't want to put my lips where she's drunk from… But I need to taste this." He thought, tipping the cup above his mouth and letting the liquid fall in. A shock hit his palate and left him stunned. The bitter, strong taste of coffee was merely a memory, buried under delicate milk and overwhelming sweetness.
"HOW MUCH SUGAR IS IN THIS?!" He set the cup down beside his own, which was still half-full.
"I-ISN'T THIS THE USUAL W-WAY TO DRINK IT?!" Jeanne was panicked by his reaction to her preferred beverage.
"WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?!" He retorted, almost feeling the grains of half-melted sugar harpooning his esophagus.
"But-But... My sister always made sure to be sweet..." He caught her face, embarrassed, uncertain. He smiled, looked at her cup, and picked up his own.
"Well, I guess it leaves a rather good aftertaste, now that I think about it!" He replied, finishing his and placing the empty cup in the sink. Jeanne was left perplexed by his behaviour, but quietly relieved he hadn't condemned her version of coffee." I am really glad she hasn't noticed that I drank from the same spot!" The two ran out of the apartment into the morning street.
The road was vivid with people at that hour: voices, laughter and the shouts of women, children and workers gave both him and Jeanne a settling feeling. The sun was high, but the cold salt breeze from the sea was more than enough to make it pleasant. Yesterday's rain had released the smell of earth and flowers, leaving a sweet, musky note in the air that the gentle sea wind carried past them.
"You looked troubled when Round said Arden Ring. May I ask why?" The girl was fidgeting with her hair, avoiding a direct gaze.
"Well... I..." A masked butler was waving from an automobile, gesturing for them to get in. The doors opened slowly while the mechanical panel roof began to form above them. Lance and Jeanne settled into their seats, feeling the engine's vibration through the upholstery." At least he isn't crushed against the door this time." Jeanne noted as Lance maintained a respectable distance between them. Round pressed the accelerator, shifted down, and set the car moving.
The asphalt disappeared quickly beneath the chassis as the car shot between the streets and roads of the Fourth Boulevard.
"Agent Goghette… Are you perhaps familiar with the location?" Round asked, adjusting the mirror.
"A-Arden Ring?" She replied, her eyes fixed on the city scenery rushing past.
"I heard from outside the door. I didn't expect events to arise that would require the agency's intervention." Her tone was unexpectedly serious, entirely unlike her usual reserve. Silence spread through the car, leaving only the engine and the muffled noise of the street audible. Driiiiinnng. Round's watch vibrated, breaking the atmosphere. The screen lit up with a message written in fine geometric characters.
"NOIR has just informed me that another agent will be accompanying you." He said, turning to the two passengers.
"Who? Malliard? Lautre? Sai?" Lance asked in rapid succession, cycling through everyone he'd met at NOIR during his short stay.
"Noel Ryes. Associated agent assigned to Group III, where Hoku Sai also works." Round darkened the screen with a flick of his wrist." Isn't that the guy that Hoku mentioned? Like his rival or something?"
"Noel Ryes is one of the recruits who has climbed the ranks most quickly in the agency. Even Mr Clerc acknowledges his abilities openly!" Round offered, reading the curiosity.
"In fact, he was deployed to assist Agent Sai in the extermination of a Helspawn nest, but the moment he discovered you had been selected for an assignment like this, he immediately abandoned him and headed for Arden." He sighed in the way of someone accustomed to Noel's behaviour." Why was I hoping to find someone normal...."
Lance thought, running through every character he'd met at NOIR: two girls with evident behavioural problems, a fairly unsettling waitress, an idiot, a foreign bodybuilder, a bourgeois, an eccentric scientist, a thoroughly absent-minded engineer, and an alcoholic with a passion for music.
"Not that I'm exempt from the Special Cases category." He added, remembering his particular phobia of women and the headaches that came with the hallucinations. The light through the black windows was suddenly obscured, replaced by a series of artificial lamps along the door panels.
"Arden Ring is in the middle of the forest, a wide, cleared hollow," Round said, adjusting the lamp intensity to avoid blinding them. The thick canopy of leaves and the waving shadows of tall trunks gave the forest a spectral quality." It really gives me the chills... I really don't wanna see another clearing for the rest of my life." Lance sighed, watching the looming shadows trying to engulf the car.
Jeanne was trembling slightly, though she gave nothing away, keeping her elbow on the door, careful not to open it by accident." Is she afraid of the dark?" He wondered, imagining a cause for those small tremors. The trees began to thin. Sunlight crept back into the car. The artificial lamps shut off.
"We're here." Round said, slowing as the car emerged from the dense forest into an enormous clearing.
"Is this Arden Ring?!" Lance's gaze wandered over the colourful light and smoke coming from down the hill.
"It was a district unrecognised by the capital's administration but large enough to qualify as a Sector in its own right. It is a mixture of buildings and hovels, but fortunately equipped with electricity and running water, and even surfaced roads, though driving inside was inadvisable given the volume of thieves and shops." Round explained while slowly parking the car.
"The entire district had been built inside a clearing formed by bombardments and military experiments, which had expanded it considerably and redirected nearby rivers. The quarter is now divided into three main sections." He continued, while Jeanne kept a steady eye on the buildings.
"The M-Mère are still in function?" She shily asked as the butler was nearing the end of the maneuver.
"Are you quite knowledgeable of this district, Agent Goghette?" She got a bit red, trembling slightly.
"For a while I lived..." She was suddenly stopped by a sudden thump on the car, maybe a pothole.
"Excuse me, but... What's a Mère? Some kind of machine?" Lance barged in, slowly unbuckling the seatbelt.
"No, it's a title. A Mère is the proprietress of a particular establishment. Arden Ring was not frequented exclusively for sexual purposes; its profitable trade in weapons and contraband goods was equally significant, which was why the hotels functioned simultaneously as brothels and auction houses, and could be as large as private villas in the deep sections of Bayork." Jeanne nodded slowly, confusing Lance. The two stepped out of the car, feeling the firm ground beneath their soles.
Round leaned from the window to deliver instructions, but his face appeared to shift under the thick mask.
"Are you certain about entering Arden dressed like that?" The butler asked, indicating their finely selected clothing.
"Try to look more like travellers… Or clients." He suggested, pulling his head back inside. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
"CLIENTS?!" They said in unison, appalled.
"Wouldn't it seem odd for a pair of young people to arrive here asking questions unprompted?"
"……" Neither of them had an answer capable of countering the butler's logic. The car's engine resumed, and the vehicle slid across the earth, pressing tyre marks into the soft ground before disappearing into the trees.
"Let's dress like vagabonds. It's the safer idea." Lance suggested removing his jacket and holding it.
"O-okay." Jeanne agreed, doing the same. Their clothes changed shape rapidly, transforming into two long, amber-coloured, battered cloaks.
"The Lambdite fibre configuration developed by NOIR can perfectly mimic the wearer's intentions, down to the finest detail. Lucas still has to explain how they work, though!" Lance was smiling as the clothes fit him. Their outer garments had also transformed into plain, rustic work clothes: both now wore brown coveralls with leather patches and laces." The mission would have failed already if I had to fake being a client..." He thought, swinging his arm to light the watch screen.
The small device showed a map of the area. To the right of the red dot marking his position was a dense complex of structures stretching well beyond the screen." What is that?" He noticed a cobalt dot on the polished surface, sitting just outside the city gates, as if waiting for someone.
"I-I think we should start walking." Jeanne said, checking her own watch and calculating the distance. Lance nodded and sighed, pulling his sleeve down over the watch face. They had been walking for about a dozen minutes. The cold, slightly unnatural air wasn't making the idea of entering Arden any more appealing.
"Lance… Have you ever… Been… To a brothel?" Jeanne asked from nowhere, breaking the vague silence between them.
"WHA— WHAT?! NO!" He panicked.
"Then… I imagine you don't know how they work."
"Well… If I've never been… that seems obvious." Lance said, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head.
"I spent quite a long time in brothels, even in Arden with my sister… And to survive, I started doing certain… Tasks." Jeanne held the hem of her cloak, trembling slightly. He went quiet. His face, in the shadow of the hood, carried something close to distress." So that's why she didn't want to talk about it..."
"Listen… you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I can understand—" He spoke in fragments, his tone going up and down.
"Why? … Is it really so bad to wash… The working women's clothes?" She asked, genuinely. The purity in her eyes was almost unbearable.
"Ah… No, that's not bad at all." He replied, exhaling slowly. Jeanne watched him for a few seconds. She was doing her best to keep her face concealed, but she was fairly certain she'd caught a smile beneath the folds of his hood.
"A-Anyway… Brothels work like a family house. There's a Mère who manages the complex and the working women who earn. The more you earn, the more clients and comfort you receive." She explained, speaking from memory.
"I see… So the more demand there is, the more privileges are gained." Lance was thinking it through, and it was, rationally, fairly consistent. Jeanne nodded at his interpretation, shaking her hair out from under the hood.
"The best-paid women have access to the upper floors of the complex, though calling them only prostitutes is rather offensive."
"What do you mean?"
"The most renowned women at famous brothels are seen as companions. They can even refuse clients." She continued.
"And those lower-ranking?"
"Well… Those can only accept assignments… of that type." Jeanne spoke in pieces, avoiding detail.
"That's rather grim." He murmured bitterly, pulling his hood further down. The clearing began to fill with muttered profanity and music, completely drowning out the sound of the wind in the leaves.
"We're… Here," Lance announced, looking at the scene before him. Down in the inner clearing, at the foot of the hill, an enormous mass of spires, chimneys, and tall buildings spread out, resembling the apartment blocks of the Boulevards but considerably more improvised, built from wood of various origins. The streets appeared to be surfaced, with dozens of people moving through them, poorly dressed and wrapped in clouds of pale smoke.
The smell of nicotine and freshly lit tobacco had been absorbed by the breeze and carried all the way up the hill. Both Lance and Jeanne coughed repeatedly, covering their noses with their collars against the assault. He reached into the pocket of his cloak and produced a thin piece of black metal.
"What is it?" Jeanne asked, curious about the object slowly extending in his hand.
"A telescope. Round gave it to me before we got out." He pressed it to one eye. He could now distinguish clearly the intricate labyrinth of alleys and lanes running between the buildings. A little further along, a large square with three roughly triangular drapes. They were positioned opposite each other, as if marking the internal boundaries of the city. The first was pink, embroidered with a golden signature. The second was black with a figure of a woman smoking a pipe painted on it.
The third was a deep green with something resembling a flame stitched into it. The signs swayed gently in the dense smoke, drawing streams of people into each sector. He continued scanning the city until his view landed on an open window of a faintly pink-tinted room. The shadows on the wall, cast by a dim lantern, were occupied in a decidedly private activity. Lance clicked his tongue, folded the telescope, and stood up from the grass.
"All right… Let's go." He said in a flat tone and began descending the hill. Jeanne nodded, sliding down the steep and unstable ground with remarkable agility." I SAW NOTHING! NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!" He kept repeating to himself, pressing his fingers into the earth beneath his feet to distract himself." I should get used to it… We're in a rough, criminal quarter… Yes … It's normal." He thought, trying to restrain himself from going further.
The shadow of the moving figures had already printed itself in his memory.
"I WILL NOT GET USED TO IT!" He snapped, slipping down the slope. He finally registered the full scale of the city now that he was standing directly in front of its entrance gate. The walls had been thrown up hastily, combining bricks and wooden planks with rusted iron sheeting, all crowned by sharp pikes along the top. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and tobacco was extraordinarily strong even outside the gate.
"I can't imagine what's on the inside..." Lance thought with a horrific grimace. He had a deep and genuine hatred for the smell of smoke. Jeanne was no better. She kept pressing her collar against her nose. He looked at her for a moment, understanding it was hard to hold a collar up for any length of time. He took a portion of his cloak and tore it, fashioning a cloth from it, all under the confused eyes of the girl beside him.
"Here… I imagine this smell is difficult for you." He said, handing her the strip without looking at her. Jeanne timidly took the cloth and pressed it to her nose, releasing the collar.
"Thank you… It's much better." She replied, satisfied.
"Well, I really do not know this area... I hope you can guide me right." He said, turning slightly feverish, maybe from the smoke or the embarrassment. She nodded twice at the same outstanding speed.
"THERE YOU ARE!" A figure erupted from some bushes near the gate, startling even the guards. It was a boy with dark skin and very short but wavy, yellowish-tinted hair. He wore a cloak similar to theirs, but completely open and torn. Underneath, he appeared to be wearing not a shirt but only a series of straps and cords. On his shoulders rested an iron staff with a black handle. His muscle definition surprised even Lance. He was considerably taller and broader than both he and Hoku.
Much of his face was hidden behind the thick collar of his tattered and torn cloak; the only features visible were his large dark eyes. The giant approached the two with a friendly smile, his bull-like neck contracting with every glance he cast around. His eyes fixed on Lance, who, in a veiled panic, had already closed his hand around Supplicium in its chain form and had taken a step forward to put himself between the figure and Jeanne.
"You must be Lance Klint… It's a pleasure to meet you. But why are you pointing that thing at me?!" Said the tall man, raising his hands and waggling them.
"You'd have to be someone from the agency to recognise us..." Lance said, relaxing his fingers around the chain.
"Yes, yes… I'm Noel Ryes, from the same team as Hoku." He extended his enormous hand toward Lance. Their fingers interlocked, almost making the air vibrate.
"Oh! Strong grip, you've got there!" Noel exclaimed, feeling the force of Lance's fingers close around his in greeting.
"Yours is no less..." The boy said dryly, massaging his palm. The guards were still looking confused at the strange display of masculinity before them. The same could be said for Jeanne, who was eyeing both of them from behind Lance.
"I was supposed to stay with Hoku for a Singularity… But it was boring, and I really wanted to meet both of you!" He smiled, lowering his collar to reveal a chin covered in dark scars.
"Why?" Lance asked, moving his head a bit to the side.
"Are you joking?! All of NOIR is in a stir over the two recruits who took on two Metas during their first mission." He laughed as if Lance had just told a very good joke. Noel turned toward Jeanne, looking her over from head to foot. The girl almost instinctively wrapped herself tighter in the cloak, becoming something very close to a cocoon.
"Sorry… I didn't mean to frighten you… Monica told me great things about you, and I was curious to meet you." He moved his hands rapidly and lowered his head in apology.
"The pleasure is mine… I'm Jeanne Gogh… ette." She introduced herself, keeping her evident embarrassment contained under the cloak.
"Did I say something wrong?" Noel asked, turning to Lance with a sad, confused expression.
"No… It's that we're two particular cases…To put it gently." He laughed, reaching up and resting a hand lightly on the hood over Jeanne's head. Strangely enough, when done by reflex, his embarrassment didn't flare up.
"I see… Perhaps that's why you're on a team together. Same with Sai and me." He said, satisfied with his conclusion.
"Again... Why?" Lance asked, trying to associate the image of the gentle, young Hoku with the enormous figure before him." Maybe Monica really has a knack for absurd team-comps..."
"Well, we both have a passion for fighting and combat… And we like training." Noel said, bringing his fist down on his own enormous shoulder.
"Does Hoku genuinely like fighting?" Lance asked, genuinely astonished, trying to picture his new gym partner with a weapon.
"Absolutely! He is among the best fighters in all of NOIR… If you value his technique, Hoku is probably the most technically accomplished fighter in the whole agency." Noel delivered the announcement with visible pride." I guess you can't judge a book by its cover..." Lance thought, kinda sad that the mental image he had of Hoku was now tainted.
"However… I doubt he'd win against Malliard or Clerc in an all-out fight. Unlike you." He smiled, bringing the memory of the fight against Malliard back to the surface.
"He wasn't trying in the slightest. I understood that when I saw him afterwards in the infirmary." Lance replied with genuine humility, shoving away the praises.
"True, but I doubt someone with no experience could beat that monster, even when holding back." Noel smiled again.
"Exc…use me… Shouldn't we avoid talking?" Jeanne ventured, pointing toward the Arden Ring gate. Noel and Lance looked at her for an instant and returned to their professional registers.
"Don't worry, the guards at Arden Ring can't divulge any information to the outside, or they will face capital punishment for ruining the client's reputation and sales. Mr Clerc told me, and he is a regular!" The fact that Lautre Clerc was a great benefactor of Arden Ring's economy staggered both Jeanne and Lance. They both pondered it for an instant and reached the conclusion that the better one was to avoid thinking about it at all.
"I G-guess we can go... Now?" Jeanne started advancing toward the gate, suspiciously gazing at the guards from the hood's shadow. Noel and Lance followed close behind.
"I guess she is right!" They said together, heading toward the guards.

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