Synthesis-type adventurers

Chapter 14 Uninvited Guest

The torrential rain in Black Iron Alley intensified.

Rainwater, mixed with coal ash and rust, flowed down the eaves, filling every ditch in the slum with black water, revealing the true nature of this world—filthy, murky, and suffocating.

Rod pushed open the damp, warped wooden door to the basement, the hinges groaning shrilly.

He slammed a large bag of crocodile skins, which reeked of a strong sewer odor, onto the table.

"Don't remove your armor yet." Rod pressed down on Ivy's hand, which was about to unfasten the clasp. "This place is chilly to the bone. If you take off your armor now, your body temperature will drop very quickly. Go to the back and wash the surface of your armor clean first. After I start a fire, you can change into dry clothes."

Avira didn't waste any words and silently nodded.

Dragging her heavy, still dripping plate armor, she walked slowly toward the depths of the basement, where a makeshift washroom was partitioned off with a few tattered curtains.

The sound of water soon began.

Rod sat back down at the greasy table and lit a brazier of charcoal with a pile of scraps and a flint.

The flickering firelight dispelled some of the chill as he began to deal with the pile of spoils, still stained with blood.

The package was unpacked, and a strong smell of blood wafted out.

Several pieces of crocodile skin with hard scales, a crocodile heart that was still twitching slightly and radiating warmth, and several broken teeth that had been forcibly knocked out of the beast's mouth.

These junk items, on the vampire guild's acquisition list, are worth at most three to five six-cent silver coins.

This amount of money might not even be enough to repair a deep scratch on the Evira shield.

But this is only the price shown on the surface.

Rhodes narrowed his eyes, a glint of deep blue flashing in the depths of his pupils, and [Analysis Vision] was instantly activated.

His rough palms pressed against the pile of crocodile skin, and countless tiny specks of light appeared on the dead flesh.

"Stripping".

As mental energy probed in, a grayish ball of light was forcibly pulled out of the crocodile skin.

[Foul Odor (Grayish Inferior Quality)]: High concentration of putrid biological odor, which can cause mild nausea and dizziness.

This stuff is considered garbage by others, but to Rhodes, it's an excellent raw material.

With a little synthesis and the addition of a few toxin entries, this "garbage" can be transformed into an unpredictable [biochemical toxic fog].

Without the slightest disgust, he skillfully stuffed the ominous orb of light into his consciousness space.

Just as he was about to continue peeling away the [Strong Heart] entry hidden on the crocodile's heart, a strange noise mixed in with the sound of rain outside the door.

Footsteps.

The pace was uniform, not the messy, dragging steps of a drunkard in the slums, but more like the crisp sound of iron-clad military boots stepping on the stone pavement.

There were quite a few of them, and their intentions were not good.

Rhodes's hands froze instantly. With a flick of his arm, he swept the debris from the table into his backpack and gripped the hilt of his worn sword at his waist.

"boom--!"

The already overburdened wooden door was kicked open from the outside.

Broken pieces of wood were still flying in the air when a group of soldiers in black and yellow uniforms, carrying crossbows, rushed into the room.

The group was well-trained; they immediately spread out in a fan shape upon entering the room, blocking all blind spots.

The dark crossbow was held horizontally, its cold arrows aimed directly at Rhodes's brow.

The security force in Ruian?

wrong.

Rhodes's gaze swept over the badge on their chests—a two-headed griffin with a gold coin in its beak.

These are the private soldiers of the Hohenheim family, an old noble family in the United Kingdom of Verian.

A muffled thud of armor clashing came from behind the curtain, and Avira clearly sensed the change.

"Don't move." A lazy voice came from the rain curtain at the doorway.

A black umbrella parted the gloomy rain curtain, and a thin, pale-faced young man walked in.

He wore a well-tailored handmade velvet suit, the intricate gold embroidery on the cuffs shimmering in the dim firelight.

He held a clean white handkerchief in his hand, covering his mouth and nose, his eyes filled with disgust as he scrutinized the basement, which reeked of mold and blood.

The man's features bore a striking resemblance to the previously deceased Kyle, but his ingrained ruthlessness and arrogance surpassed even that of his dead brother.

Viktor von Hohenheim.

The eldest son of the Hohenheim family, he was Kyle's half-brother.

Rhodes had met him once before; it was a memory from before he traveled through time.

At that time, Victor and Kyle were arguing at the Anvil Adventurers' camp, and it almost escalated to the point of drawing their swords against each other. The relationship between the two brothers was clearly at a freezing point.

"What a pigsty."

Victor wiped non-existent dust from his cuffs with a handkerchief, his gaze falling on Rhodes, but as if he were looking at a rat in a sewer.

"You're that logistics guy named Rhodes?"

Rod loosened the hilt of his sword and raised both hands above his head.

With a dozen crossbows pointed at you, resistance would be certain death; only a fool would do that.

"It's me." Rhodes kept his tone as calm as possible, while giving Avira, who was observing the situation from behind the curtain, a wink, signaling her not to make any rash moves. "May I ask what brings Young Master Hohenheim to this 'pigsty'?"

"Still being stubborn." Victor chuckled, his eyes suddenly sharpening. "Kyle is dead."

"I know. We encountered the Red Dragon, and he was unfortunate..."

"I don't care how he died," Victor interrupted coldly, his tone revealing a chilling indifference. "That idiot deserved to die. But what I care about is what he took with him."

He took a step forward, his narrow eyes fixed on Rod's face.

"Where is the ring that has been passed down through generations of the Hohenheim family, the one known as the Crimson Emblem?"

Rhodes felt a slight stirring in his heart.

Crimson emblem ring?

When he was looting Kyle's charred corpse, he found nothing but a few melted gold coins and a few bottles of potions; he didn't see any ring at all.

That guy was hit head-on by the dragon's breath, and his bones were almost burned to ashes. Even if he had the ring, he would probably have turned into a pool of liquid gold long ago.

Under the gaze of [Analysis Vision], the information jumping above Victor's head revealed everything.

[Greed (White Common)]: Has a morbid thirst for wealth and power.

[Impatient for quick success (white ordinary)]: Will stop at nothing to achieve their goals and has an extreme lack of patience.

[Temporary Bluff (Gray Inferior)]: He is not sure where the ring is, but is just making a wide-ranging extortion.

It turned out to be the case.

This guy didn't care about his brother's life or death at all; in fact, Kyle's death was a boon to him—it eliminated one rival for the inheritance.

For the Hohenheim family, which was about to be swept into the grave of history and had fallen to the point of almost being removed from the ranks of nobility, the old baron was more than happy for his descendants to fight each other to the death, so that he could choose a qualified successor who could lead the family to rise again and had an iron fist.

Before Kyle's death, Baron Hohenheim clearly favored his second son, who possessed Silver-level strength, even giving him the family's ancestral ring and sword.

What a hopeless family.

What Victor cared about was the ring that represented the legitimate bloodline of Hohenheim.

Without that, his legal basis for inheriting the title would not be complete.

"I didn't see any ring," Rhodes said honestly. "The dragon's breath was too strong back then, and young master Kyle and his equipment were reduced to ashes. If you don't believe me, you can go to the dry riverbed and sift the soil there."

"Don't try to fool me," Victor sneered. "I heard you were the last person to leave. And..."

His gaze passed over Rod and landed on the tattered curtain.

"And there was one more who survived by sheer luck, the Griffin family's stray dog."