Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

The group woke up late.

As they awoke to the morning sunlight streaming through the quiet inn, a desire to stay here forever stirred within them.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The innkeeper had risen at dawn and was already manning the counter.

As a former herb gatherer, it seemed she wasn’t one to sleep in.

“Breakfast?”

“Of course.”

The three of them finished off every last bit of the warm morning stew.

The innkeeper watched the three hearty eaters with satisfaction before asking, “Where are you headed so early?”

With his mouth full of bread, Binaeril replied, “We’re headed west beyond Hoenberg.”

“Hoenberg? That’s dangerous.”

“Swallow. We know. But we need to get there urgently, so we’re taking the shortcut.”

Their tone was quite calm for people planning to cross the deadly mountains teeming with monsters.

The innkeeper examined her guests.

To her eyes, their only weapon seemed to be a worn-out sword carried by the young girl. If they didn’t want to die young, crossing Hoenberg with such poor equipment was a terrible idea.

“Are you by any chance mages?”

“Huh? How did you know?”

“Just a hunch, you seemed too young to be otherwise.”

There are usually two types of people who aren’t afraid of monsters.

First, those who have never faced a monster and are simply naive.

Second, those who make a living dealing with them.

To the Primrose Inn’s owner, these youths seemed to fall into the latter category.

“You must know how treacherous Hoenberg is and what kinds of monsters inhabit it, right?”

“Yes, we’ve heard.”

He shook his head. Binaeril looked at him in confusion.

“Even if you mages know about the monsters, you might not know about the terrain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Outsiders think Hoenberg is just a tall, rugged mountain. But that’s not the problem.”

“The problem is finding your way.”

This was new information.

“I’ve lived my whole life as a herb gatherer, treating that mountain as my backyard. Even seasoned travelers easily get lost there. The capricious rock formations, the ground that collapses underfoot, the fog that rolls in without warning. That place was known as a haunted mountain even before the monsters showed up.”

“That’s… news to us.”

“If it’s your first time in Hoenberg, I’d advise you to give up. Go back quietly. Or find a very capable guide.”

“A guide? Can we find such a person?”

At that, Sylvia nudged Binaeril’s side.

“Isn’t he offering to be our guide?”

The innkeeper laughed heartily.

“Ha ha ha! I would never go there. I don’t know your skills, and I’m too old to even look at mountain paths without my knees aching.”

“So, there’s no solution then.”

“Who knows? Maybe some lunatic with great navigational skills and a deep familiarity with Hoenberg will fall from the sky.”

“Don’t you have anyone you can recommend?”

“I’m not a cold-blooded person who would send a fellow villager to their death. I’m saying this purely out of concern for you.”

Hearing such warnings, Binaeril and his companions had no choice but to proceed as planned.

“We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the advice.”

“So, are you willing to pay a bit more for the room?”

“We’ll pay the regular price.”

Sylvia interjected again, negotiating firmly.

“Tch. The young lady is quite decisive.”

The innkeeper asked for four Florin silver coins for the room, including meals.

At such a reasonable price, they thought they could even afford to give a tip.

“Rike, could you handle the payment?”

As Rike fumbled around her waist, she let out a troubled groan.

A strong intuition struck Binaeril that something was wrong.

They checked the pouch tied to her belt, searched through her robes, and even turned out her pants, but what should have been there was missing.

“It seems like… our money pouch is gone.”

Rike, looking as if caught doing something bad, glanced at the six eyes staring at her in astonishment.

“Damn…”

The innkeeper found himself witnessing a rare sight: his guests suddenly turning into penniless wanderers.

With the superhuman patience of a former herb gatherer, he asked one question.

“Did you encounter any street urchins?”

“Street kids? Yes, yesterday, in front of the general store…”

Having heard their story, the innkeeper quickly deduced the situation like a master detective.

“Those little brats did it.”

They headed to the vicinity of the general store where they had encountered the kids.

“They’re not here.”

“Of course not.”

As expected, the street kids were nowhere to be seen. They would probably reappear once Binaeril’s group left the village.

“What should we do?”

“What do you think? We have to find them.”

They had only one reliable lead.

The lady from the general store!

They knocked on the store door and waited. The lady from yesterday came out.

“Oh, are you here to buy something again? We’re not open yet.”

Sylvia, taking charge of the conversation, explained the situation.

“No, it’s not that. You remember the kids who were in front of your store yesterday, right?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you know where they live?”

Sensing the suspicion in their question, the lady scrutinized the group.

“Did you lose something?”

With a heavy sigh, she pointed them in the direction of the street urchins’ hideout.

Following her directions, they arrived at the children’s hideout, a tent village spread over a few alleys, surrounding a building with a collapsed pillar.

“Hey!”

A scruffy-looking boy walking around caught their eye. It was one of the kids from in front of the store yesterday.

“Found you.”

“Run!”

But Sylvia was much faster than the street-smart boys. Before he could take three steps, she had him dangling by the scruff of his neck.

“You really do look like a stray cat.”

“It wasn’t me!”

“What do you mean it wasn’t you? We haven’t even said anything yet.”

“I don’t know anything.”

The boy sharply turned his head, expressing his strong refusal to talk.

“Look at this kid.”

Seeing no sign of retrieving their money peacefully, Binaeril stepped in.

“Do you want to taste something shocking?”

Binaeril caused a small spark of electricity to dance between his outstretched palms, intending to intimidate the boy…

“Wow! How did you do that, mister?”

…but instead, he only piqued the boy’s curiosity.

“This isn’t working.”

“Binaeril, let me handle this,” Rike said, kneeling down to meet the eyes of the boy held by the scruff of his neck.

“That money is important to me. I need it to travel far. Tell me, did you take it?”

The previously stubborn suspect melted under Rike’s gentle expression, a magical event more potent than any spell.

“I… I already gave it all to Simon.”

“So, you did take it?”

The boy nodded.

“Simon used the money to buy us food yesterday. I don’t have it anymore.”

“Where is this Simon?”

“Over there.”

The boy pointed to a direction where a half-collapsed building was covered with patched-up cloth.

It looked like the coziest spot in the tent village, the kind of place where the leader of the group would stay.

“Got it, thanks.”

Rike patted the boy’s head and asked Sylvia to put him down.

“Don’t hurt Simon!”

The released boy disappeared into the alley, giving a final warning.

“Simon, huh?”

“Feels like I’ve heard that name before.”

Although it seemed unfamiliar, the name felt oddly familiar, as if they had heard it recently.

“Let’s go catch the thief.”

The inside of the tent was completely different from the outside.

Layers of colorful fabric allowed sunlight to filter through, creating an atmosphere reminiscent of a grand tapestry.

The sunlight streaming through the tent fabric broke into colors like vibrant rubies or deep olive gemstones.

The place had a surprisingly solemn air, uncharacteristic of a street urchins’ den.

In the center of the tent, a thin veil divided the space, and beyond it was an old sofa with thick cushions.

And there, behind the sofa, was the star of today’s show.

“Are you… Simon?”

Rike adjusted her tone upon seeing the person.

Even to Binaeril, the boy seemed too young to address formally.

He was only a couple of years older than the boy who had fled earlier.

The boy presumed to be Simon had small lips and nose, and horizontally long eyes. His face was slender, giving him a wild animal-like impression.

“Who are you ladies?”

“Ladies?”

Simon was a quick-witted boy.

Sensing danger, he prepared to flee.

His stance was peculiar.

He extended his legs backward, bent his upper body forward, and crossed his arms.

‘What’s this? A feline stance?’

“Hey! There!”

As he bent, the pouch hanging from his waist jingled.

It was unmistakably their stolen item.

“Sylvia! Grab him!”

Sylvia reflexively lunged and caught Simon by the scruff of his neck.

“Ouch!”

“Hey! Grab him? Am I a dog?”

“Aren’t you the princess’s loyal hound?”

“Do you want to die?”

“Help! Someone help!”

This was his home ground, so causing a ruckus would be troublesome.

“Shh.”

Binaeril imagined Simon’s mouth sealing shut. Without resistance to magic, Simon’s mouth clamped closed immediately.

“Mmph, mmph!”

“These belong to us. You shouldn’t take other people’s things.”

During this moment, Sylvia reached for the pouch tied to Simon’s waist and—

“Huh? What’s this?”

The fabric below Simon’s waist began to writhe.

“Oh my!”

Rike, misinterpreting the situation, covered her eyes with her hands and turned away.

However, Binaeril realized it wasn’t what Rike thought. He had never seen or heard of anything wriggling so much in all directions like that.

A scream erupted from the opposite side. It was Sylvia.

“A t-tail!”

Binaeril was startled.

What emerged from Simon’s lower back was indeed a tail!

Taking advantage of Sylvia’s shock and the release of his scruff, Simon darted towards the entrance.

“Master Sorisimon, are you there?”

A new visitor’s voice called from outside the tent.

Simon, looking flustered, glanced at Binaeril and the others.

“Please, hide! Quickly!”

Simon shoved Binaeril and the others behind a rug and responded to the visitor.

“Come in.”

“Wow, what is this?”

The voice that had been playful moments ago now sounded like that of a dignified elder.

Simon knelt on one knee by the old sofa and pulled a nearby cord.

With a soft rustling sound, the fabric behind him parted, allowing sunlight to cast a shadow of Simon and the old sofa onto the veil.

Amazingly, the shadow took on the shape of a figure wearing a round hat!

All of this happened within seconds.

“Huh.”

Binaeril was left speechless. Simon pursed his lips and gestured for silence with a finger.

This place, shrouded in tents and veils, was none other than the audience chamber of the mage Sorisimon.