The town was strange. Maneuvering through it was a constant exercise in attention, with bridges made from rope and wood camoufged with leaves cutting through the canopy, connecting different houses together. There were inns and guild halls, little connections between humans, and a much more diverse cast than on the first floor.

  As seemed to be typical of cities, we also had someone’s Eye on us. This little pce seemed under the purview of the Verdant Grove’s Mistress. Something we also swiftly notice is that species diversity has gone up a lot since the tunnels.

  Ascendancy wells across the floor tend to be a little jumbled, so things get more chaotic the higher up you climb. On the third floor, that effect is showing, especially since it’s a pce with a lot of intelligent wildlife, some of whom live in the town, or adjacent to it. We see a few birds, packed with backpacks and funny goggles, one street food stall hanging halfway in the air, carried and tended to by a flock of hand-sized butterflies, and there are aphids spinning sugary treats in a few pces.

  It’s very alive. Enough to make Jess and Inu crack small smiles at the crowd, enough that Sylves stops every few steps, floating off a little and wondering about a new leaf or tree. She gets her finger bitten by a slightly hungry pnt-person who promptly apologizes and states it was a reflex.

  There are people literally all around us. Above, below, to all sides, and I can see the way it comes in on our group, the way some want to reach out and interact, and others shrink in on themselves. It’s a little funny. Gently, I activate [Suppression] on the noise. Instantly, the lively city calms down a little more.

  I can hear the way that Thatch asks a rge pillbug for directions, and then takes the lead to a somewhat newly opened inn. Apparently, climbers have come by here recently, stopping for a little while before continuing their ascent. Running a pop-up-inn to make some money? How curious.

  We walk in, letting the wooden door fall behind us, shutting out the bustling noise of the canopy. It was never exactly loud, but it was very bright and a constant low chittering. Apparently, that kind of background humming usually didn’t attract predators, but singur, loud noises did.

  My thoughts focused on the person behind the counter. It was an older man, one that I recognized immediately. The [Archon of the Bathtub], whose inn got trashed in our escape from Espiree on the first floor. He looks at us. I look at him. His eyes drift to my missing arm.

  “Souvenir?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “No, I killed Philia without too much trouble. This happened in an ascension well.”

  “Ah,” he nods. “Name’s Harry.”

  “Ion,” I reply.

  He smiles a little, behind that beard. “I know that one, brat. Your real name. The one friends call you.”

  “Are we friends?” I ask.

  “I’ll give you a magic item if you tell me,” he promises.

  “Snow,” I reply, without hesitation.

  Laughing behind his beard, he tosses me a wet rag of cloth. “Bahaha! Here. It’s something I got to help with my job. Give it a look.”

  I do as asked, inspecting the tool. [Observation] brushes against the rag, and I spot a dozen tiny runic inscriptions. Instantly, the tower feeds me a trickle of information about the item, as if its description was somehow woven into it.

  Huh. That must be something higher level crafters could do, huh? How fun. I should learn that.

  Disregarding that thought, though, I focus on what the item is telling me about its function. A small runic array about killing bacteria. Another tone to dispel dust using some kind of disintegration magic, which makes it good at both cleaning, or, when fed with more mana, polishing a surface.

  It’s an incredibly tiny application of incredibly destructive magic, in a way that I’m instantly curious about. Could I apply this sort of targeted, low-level instant-kill disinfection magic inside someone’s body? Mess up their immune system entirely? Scary.

  But at the end of the day, it is just a rag made for cleaning. Now, it does that job incredibly well, with different mana amounts for disinfection, polishing, dusting, and so on. I like it. I hate when there’s something on my skin, and this will help with that. We’ve been upgrading our water-generating items so that we could wash properly, but this was very nice.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I didn’t expect cleaning to be so adjacent to murder.”

  Harry grins, tilting his head. “Oh?” he asks. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, getting rid of bacteria is basically killing small things. And to get rid of dust, this… what, does it transform it into mana or something? Is it full scale matter transmutation?” I ask, eyes widening a little.

  “Sure is,” he says. “Terrifyingly complicated spell for any person to make, but surprisingly cheap to buy from the tower in smaller applications.”

  Ah. The rag is purchased from the tower then. But it definitely has been modified by a person… “Did you mess with the enchantment yourself?”

  Harry’s grin widens, showing his teeth. His wings clink a little. “I did,” he says. And that’s all he says, providing no additional information. How curious. Does he want me to figure it out myself?

  With the conversation having ebbed off, I lightly tap Thatch, informing him that it’s his turn to talk. He gives me a confused look then smiles slightly, and nods. “We’d like to buy room and board for a week, if possible,” he says.

  The negotiation starts and I tune them out, focusing on the cleaning rag in my hand. The essence from the beasts on the second floor whispers into my brains about how it might interact with anatomy, which is interesting. The enchantments are woven into the cloth, too, in a fascinatingly intricate dispy of skill.

  Once again, the tower so easily made an item that seems absolutely incredible to me. Putting this on a shirt could mean that I might have it be clean forever. Compare that with some self-repair…

  I could wear the same shirt for the rest of my life.

  “Is it just me or are Snow’s eyes sparkling a bit?” Opal asks.

  “Not just you,” Inu says with a soft sigh. “That’s that dangerous expression.”

  Yeah. I’ll learn to make something like this, too.

  “Aaaaand bleeding from the eyes again,” Sylves shakes her head. “Silly Snow.”

  I’ll learn.