CHPT 172: The Last Hero.

"[Y'know Claude, that would've been cool— noble even....if we weren't broke.]" Arne commented in reference to Claude's refusal of payment as he headed down the street.

"Yea your probably right. But I meant what I said. Why would I take money when I couldn't get the job done? Plus I'll be back next weekend. It's fine." Claude replied.

"[Hm. What about a break?]" Arne suddenly said.

"...Arne, what the fuck are you talking about?" Claude accidentally said out loud, gaining weirded out looks from people walking nearby and idle Merchants.

"[Im just saying. Your not some lone warrior placed on this wretched earth for one purpose. You're young, you've got friends...you know? A break is good sometimes.]"

Claude had to fight not to yell as he prepared to respond to Arne, "You of all people know exactly!....why I can't do that. Why I can't get too close— they're already in danger because of me. And fuck a break, Rikah already has a 5 day head start on possible traveling to get farther from me. There's no room for breaks. Too many enemies— too many wrongs to right."

Arne sighed to himself. "[Yes, yes you make a good point. But I can't help but notice how it's all affecting you. A break could only do good at this point. You're a Lupine Claude— you don't even know what exactly that means yet but you need to spend time with the ones close to you. It's important, more important than you know...]" Arne trailed off once he noticed Claude frozen in the street. Watching.

"[Speak of the god damned devil.]" He said once he noticed who Claude was staring at.

"You want how much for a pound of meat? Don't try to play me for some sort of dumbass baldy." Ursula said to the Merchant placed in front of the alleyway on the other side of the street from Claude.

It was the same Merchant that once attempted to scam him on pelts. It seems the bald chubby man was a scumbag to everyone.

"Hmmmm. A barbarians vocabulary to match those arms. How fitting. If your broke then move along." The Merchant replied.

The temperature around them dropped slightly as a cold breeze swept across the street.

"I'm not broke you stupid fucking meatball! I'm just not an idiot either." Ursula replied angrily.

The Merchants lips moved in reply, but Claude wasn't hearing. Just watching.

Ursula stood in front of the man, leaning over the counter with her thick calloused hands placed right on the desk— small flakes of frost glazed across the old scratch marks Claude put in the wood weeks ago. She was as direct as usual— even if her appearance was anything but that.

Her long rich brown hair was held up in a messy and loose bun that looked completely different from her usual tight ponytail. In combination with her causal black pants and navy blue t-shirt she looked almost normal— pretty.

But, she'd always be an acquired taste to others simply based on the way her arms stretched out her shirt and how her pants strained around her muscular legs. Even in casual clothes, she looked like a fighter.

He didn't care though. It was simply nice to see the mouthy and sociable female Berserker. But it sucked that she was having a rough time with the Merchant. He'd have to fix that.

Frosty was already thinking the same thing, growling slightly as he watched her argue with the Merchant.

Despite its silence, once someone heard it aimed at them, they'd never forget it. Frosty's hostile growl radiated from his body and rumbled across the street causing the Merchant to straighten out and freeze— no longer listening to Ursula as she continued to argue with him.

"He's here...No please. Hehehe....i-I'm sorry." The Merchant mumbled as the armpits of his shirt dampened.

It didn't take long for him to meet his assailants eyes that flowed from the shadows cast by the sun across the street from him.

Claude raised an arm from inside of his cloak and pretended to fix his mask— making sure the man saw his long white claws dragging across the hard surface.

"ggRRrrrRRR...."

"AHHH! PLEASE!"

Growling from behind the Merchants cart made him almost jump out of his shoes, screaming and begging repeatedly.

"What are you insane?" Ursula asked as the man looked down the alleyway in fear.

"It's here...he's here....please. I'm sorry. Here!...heheh....wait please." The Merchant fumbled his words as he turned around and began fishing for money.

Ursula tried to peak around the man's wide body to see what he was terrified about in the alley but was cut off as he stood up and handed her the meat and four coppers.

"Hehehhe...my mistake. My math was off....y-you overpaid."

"Is that right? Ursula asked through angry icy blue eyes.

"GRRRR!" Frosty growled loud enough for Ursula to hear.

"NO!.....I....I-I tried to scam you. I'm sorry." The Merchant said truthfully in response to Frosty's growl.

Ursula stared at the man in confusion for a while before realizing he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at someone behind her.

Ursula suddenly turned around, seeing a masked man in the shadows covered in a black cloak staring holes into the Merchant. She couldn't help but notice the man had an air of familiarity to him— even though he was hidden in the shadows.

She quickly turned back around, "Do you two know each other?" She asked.

The Merchants eyebrows raised, "Me....no. He's just one of SkyHaven's many Heroes...heheh...such great individuals those Heroes." He explained, fighting to keep a polite yet fear stricken smile on his face.

"Right...."She replied.

"It seems he helped me get fair pricing..." Ursula thought before turning to thank the man in the shadows.

"Tha—" She stopped after realizing the man was already walking off towards the gates out of SkyHaven. She planned to try and catch up but was interrupted by the Merchants feminine shriek followed by something brushing past her hip.

"What the—" She said as she jumped away and looked down only to find nothing. "Weird.."

The Merchants continued muttering apologies and stuttering in fear as she watched the man leave, blending into the light crowd of people walking the streets.

"I'm so...so..sorry. Please for—"

"Shut up." Ursula interrupted while she continued watching. Everything about the man was familiar— just barely. The walk, the two swords, the hair.

It didn't take long for her to suddenly remember the Hero walking ahead of her weeks ago, emitting so much negativity that people avoided him like he was the plague.

"He's the Night Runner that lost his team." She muttered as the memory of the man holding the four bloody Bronze Hero tags came to mind.

"The last Hero of the group. That's gotta suck. Maybe if I see him again, I'll talk to him..."