Prelude: To Domathra (Isekai/LitRPG/OP MC)

“You are slacking,” Nephthys declared.

“Huh?” Tara replied lamely, more concerned with weaving through the crowd than listening to what Nephthys was saying.

People parted like water around a stone for Nephthys, yet she had to slither through those same people like a snake.

“I have been using minor magic this whole day, yet you have never once identified even the castings, let alone the spells,” she said, glancing at Tara over her shoulder.

“...You want me to circulate mana? Right now?” Tara questioned, likely thinking she had inferred incorrectly.

“I want you to be cycling it always, not just right now. It must become like breathing to you. Without constant use, it becomes a catch-22. You cannot see magic without circulating mana, but you will not know there is magic to see unless you are already doing it,” Nephthys explained.

“What’s a catch-22?” Tara asked, her head tilted slightly.

“Go on. Circulate your mana. I will wait so you can focus,” Nephthys said, stopping suddenly.

People continued to flow around her, but now they cast annoyed glances at the pair as they did so.

Tara looked around, probably embarrassed about the situation, which was good. This would be good practice for using magic while under pressure. The heat of battle was not the only time when casting could become difficult.

“You, there! I’ve finally found you! I saw you in the guild! I know you’re strong!” a man called, growing closer as he bellowed.

“I challenge you to—” he called.

Vrump!

The man vanished, the sudden opening in the crowd the only indication he had been there to begin with.

He can use the walk back to town to reconsider his priorities. Should take about twenty minutes.

“Did you just…teleport someone?” Tara asked, wearing an inscrutable expression.

Nephthys’ head snapped to her, and she looked Tara straight in the eyes.

“You would have seen for yourself had you begun circulating when I instructed,” she chided, making a sort of ‘hurry up’ gesture.

“Circulate mana…sound so easy…” Tara grumbled, closing her eyes to concentrate.

The corners of Nephthys’ mouth twitched. She had always enjoyed training new employees. This was somewhat similar, but she did not need to be as guarded as she was at her job. There was no HR to come down on her for swearing in front of customers or any other such trivialities.

Not that she derided HR. However, she had always hated the imbalance between customers screaming obscenities at her while she had to bite her tongue.

Tara’s eyes opened, and though they looked unchanged to normal sight, Nephthys could see a slight glow in them. Tara seemed to be making progress, as an external mana manifestation likely indicated an intense concentration in her eyes.

She would have to work on that, eventually. It was a little obvious, but that was a problem for later. Make the thing work first; refine it later.

Nephthys nodded as she turned, starting forward again. She walked in silence for a few minutes, allowing Tara time to acclimate to walking through the crowd while concentrating. She bumped into a few people, but she was doing well overall.

“Ah!” Tara suddenly squeaked.

“Hmm? Try words and sentences, dear,” Nephthys replied.

She could not help but rib the girl. She was doing so well, but she was fun to tease.

“I-magic-you…” Tara stuttered.

She took a deep breath and walked in silence for a few seconds, gathering her thoughts.

“I saw the magic you used. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it went up. You shot it up above you,” she said carefully.

“I did, indeed. Very good. It was a brief gust of wind magic that I pushed straight up from my body. Perhaps this training is dual-purpose. Forcing you to think before you speak can only be a good exercise,” Nephthys said, barely keeping the chuckle out of her voice.

Tara huffed, but she clearly did not have the leeway for wit while splitting her focus, so she merely followed Nephthys in silence.

The two arrived at their destination just as the sun began to cast long shadows, the sky a beautiful pink. They stood before the entrance to what Nephthys would describe as a ‘middle-class’ restaurant, though the comparison probably did not fit. This was a kingdom, so their class system must be some flavor of feudal.

Regardless, it was a square building with a stone foundation, braced by solid-looking wooden beams. The wooden posts were worn but well-kept. The plaster, or whatever the material was, was painted in bright colors, each wall different. Her initial impression was garish, but the more she looked, the more refreshing the colors became.

The majority of the buildings they had passed on the way were basic constructions of wood or stone. It was not until this restaurant, with its loud colors, that Nephthys realized how lacking the architecture was in diversity and color.

A sign above the door read, “The Idle Flutterfly.” A strange name, in Nephthys’ opinion. Flutterflies were avians with scaled skin and leathery wings. They did not seem appetizing, whether idle or otherwise. Grant had recommended the place, though, so she would not judge a book by its cover, nor an eatery by its name.

“Welcome to The Idle Flutterfly. Do you two have a reservation?” a man asked politely as Nephthys and Tara entered.

Tara jumped, and Nephthys turned to face the man, resisting the urge to mention that Tara would have noticed him had she not dropped her mana circulation the instant they arrived.

“No, but Guild Master Grantwell recommended we come. He indicated that a lack of reservation would not be an issue,” Nephthys said, producing a pouch that clinked as she set it on the stand before the man.

She had to make a conscious effort not to let her chin rise. She had never name-dropped and bribed someone, and certainly not at the same time. She felt like one of those prissy rich people in the movies.

“Thank you for the clarification, my lady. Please, allow me to show you to a table. Would you prefer a seat inside or outside? Social or private?” he asked, his demeanor noticeably changed.

She doubted the kitchen would see any of those coins.

“Inside and private, though if you have a spot near a window, that would be ideal. We will not fuss, regardless,” Nephthys assured, and the man took off at a brisk walk without further prompting.

He must have thought they were important, or maybe she had dramatically overdone the bribe, as he seated the two of them in a private room obviously intended for large parties of nobles. There was a thick door separating them from the dining room, and hardly a single sound penetrated its paneling.

There were two arched windows along the far wall, aglow with the setting sun. The table was nearly the size of the room, circular with at least ten chairs arranged around it.

“Someone will be with you momentarily. Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the man bid, leaving after only a second’s pause to confirm they had no further requests.

“This is overkill,” Tara deadpanned barely a second after the door clicked closed.

“Overkill was dropping your circulation the moment we arrived,” Nephthys admonished.

“Hah…” Tara sighed, sitting down along the wall so that she had a view of both the door and the windows. “Am I supposed to train every waking moment?”

“Yes,” Nephthys replied quickly, without hesitation. At Tara’s exasperated look, she explained further as she sat in the chair next to Tara.

“I understand you think this extreme, but failing to see a threat coming is a surefire way to die without the opportunity to defend yourself. You do not want to become aware of a magical threat only because it missed you,” Nephthys explained, her arms crossed.

“Fine, I get it. I think it’s pretty insane, though. Are you saying we’re unsafe even in the middle of the city?” Tara asked.

“Threats can come from anywhere, Tara. Perhaps, had that man had some sort of mana sight, he could have avoided being teleported a few miles outside the city gates,” Nephthys mused.

“...I don’t think seeing it coming would have made much difference, in this specific case,” Tara groused, her eyes beginning to glow again.

Before Nephthys could reply, the door opened, and a server entered, bearing a thin slate in one hand and chalk in the other. He wore a fine robe of a white fabric that reminded Nephthys of silk, the way it reflected the light. It had gold trim around the edges, and it ran from his shoulders all the way to his knees.

“Good evening, madams. Would you allow me to read the current specials, or have you already decided what you will have?” he asked with a practiced smile.

“I would love to listen to the specials, but might I ask a question first? Forgive me, this is probably strange,” Nephthys apologized.

The man waved away her concern and motioned her to continue.

“You see, I belong to an…organization that is in need of supplies, so I wonder if you might disclose any merchants your kitchens use. I assure you, this organization is not in the restaurant business, nor is it even based in Gloamview, so you need not worry about giving information to a competitor,” Nephthys said.

This was her main goal for coming. What Nemesis needed the most right now was information: recommendations for reliable merchants, specifically. A middle-class restaurant in a major city seemed the perfect place to scout. They would service a wide range of clients and, most importantly, a wide range of levels.

If Nemesis were to begin setting up supply lines for food of different levels, this would be the beginning.

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