Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 3127: Unexpected Run-in

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Azorheim, Inter-realm transit hub

“Had I known about this realm a few decades ago, no, even a year ago, I could have avoided losing so many of my friends,” Henricks sighed, having confirmed that everything I had told him about Azorheim was true as we walked through the mountain valley, searching for a temporal cave that suited my requirements.

Every few steps, his eyes wandered toward another cave entrance, lingering on the prices and information displayed outside. The deeper we ventured into the valley, the more his expression shifted between amazement and regret. For someone who had lost most of what he valued, discovering a place where time itself could be rented was probably enough to make him reconsider several of his past decisions.

“Even with my current net worth, I have to take a second glance at some of these prices,” I remarked, watching him stare at another list of cave rentals. “What exactly could your broke-ass Freedom Fighters have done differently?”

Henricks gave me a sideways glance before answering with a weary expression. “Well, for starters, we could have avoided trying to steal the D-rank Silver Beach Dungeon while risking the identities of our core members and turning ourselves into the foremost public enemy in the five regions.”

He paused, his expression becoming increasingly bitter as he recalled those days. Then he let out a long, defeated sigh.

“Your Highness, before crossing paths with you, we were doing pretty well.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Henricks looked toward the towering mountains surrounding us, as though searching for some explanation written among the clouds. “Funny how you ended up being both our doom and our salvation.”

Thanks to Luna, Henricks and most of the Freedom Fighters’ leadership knew about Clown Mask’s future vision. That meant they also knew exactly how their individual lives, as well as the organization itself, would have turned out if they hadn’t impulsively tried to steal the Silver Beach Dungeon.

Knowing the future had a way of making past decisions look particularly stupid.

I shook my head and began searching for a guide. Trying to find a temporal cave that matched my requirements on our own was proving more troublesome than I had anticipated. Even if we managed to locate a suitable cave, there was no guarantee it would still be available by the time we reached it. Azorheim was vast, and its most desirable temporal caves were naturally in high demand.

As much as I was enjoying the peaceful mountain scenery, I couldn’t help but miss the convenience of the Demon Merchant Code.

One command, and it could find what I needed. One payment, and the service was arranged. No wandering through enormous valleys, no comparing cave entrances, and certainly no wondering whether someone else had already rented the place I wanted.

It was an on-demand, twenty-four-seven inter-realm service that had spoiled me more than I cared to admit.

And yes, I was painfully aware of the irony.

As we made our way to the nearest rest stop, I noticed a familiar figure among the crowd.

It was a small, familiar figure moving between the arriving visitors and the guides rushing to greet the latest wave of customers. At first, I almost dismissed him as another Dwarf Race, but something about his movements caught my attention. He looked thinner than I remembered, considerably so. His clothes hung more loosely from his frame, and there was far more weariness in the way he carried himself than the last time I had seen him.

I avoided the guides who approached us and changed direction, heading straight toward the small figure.

It was him. The young Redfoot Dwarf I had occasionally encountered before in Sector ES0012 of the Inter-Realm City. His figure immediately came back to me, along with the circumstances under which we had first met. I wasn’t sure whether he remembered me. He had been asleep when we first encountered each other, and when he eventually woke up and saw me, he had been so startled that he immediately ran away.

His native realm, RedAlps, shared the same time zone and fundamental rules as the Card Realm. At the time, he had simply been another young demon merchant trying to cultivate in the Inter-realm City. We never exchanged words as back then I hadn’t the RedAlps native language and when I did it was too late.

RedAlps had been successfully invaded by demons. After hearing the news, I had intended to reach out to him. After all, he was only around ten or twelve years old by human standards. Also, to learn and understand the downfall of the RedFoot tribe in their own realm.

Unfortunately, finding him proved far more difficult than I expected. The problem wasn’t simply the timing. Around that time, the members of the Seven Princes of Hell faction had begun renting practically all the cheap land in the sector under Belphegor’s orders.

That had effectively turned the entire area into their territory. Efficiently scaring away the young dwarf whose native realm was on verge of destruction while most of his race was either killed or enslaved.

Eventually, I stopped looking. I had assumed the worst. Given what had happened to RedAlps, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the young dwarf had met some unfortunate fate. Perhaps he had been caught during the invasion. Perhaps he had fled somewhere else. Perhaps he had simply become another nameless casualty of a conflict between powers far beyond his ability to resist.

Yet here he was, alive and apparently working as one of the guides in Azorheim.

I slowed my steps as I watched him hurry toward another group of newly arrived visitors. There was something almost absurd about the coincidence. After searching for him in the Inter-realm City and eventually giving up, I had somehow stumbled across him while wandering through a mountain valley in a completely different realm.

More importantly, he wasn’t merely alive. He had been hiding here all along. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him after RedAlps fell, and why he had chosen Azorheim as his refuge. Whatever the answer was, I intended to find out.

Yes, if it wasn’t obvious already, I did feel guilty about how things had turned out. Belphegor’s retaliation had made things harder, perhaps even worse, for the young Dwarf.