Chapter 1: Recruitment to Resignation

Chapter 1:
Recruitment to Resignation

 

IN THEORY, Loren knew what a goblin was: a frightfully repulsive humanoid monster that grew at most to the height of a human child, with a skin tone ranging from green to dark green. They thrived in a wide array of environments, from woods to marshes, and they multiplied at a terrifying rate. Cruel by nature and too unintelligent to realize it, the individuals were weak enough that they could be defeated even by a human who had never fought a single battle. As such, alone, they were regarded as little more than a nuisance. The problem came when they arrived in great numbers, which they too often did, given their incredible power of reproduction.

A goblin could breed with nearly any other species with reproductive organs, and their offspring took a mere few days to reach adulthood. While adventurers hunted armies of goblins every day, their overall population showed no sign of decreasing. Worse, goblins were said to surpass dragons in sheer tenacity.

But I guess I can understand why he thinks a few of them aren’t a big deal, Loren thought as he dug his elbows into the table the man had led him to. He absentmindedly surveyed his would-be party members.

The blond young man had introduced himself as Saerfé. He was a warrior who hadn’t been with the guild for long, but he spoke passionately about how once he was experienced enough, he would one day join the party of a hero. Loren was the same age as Saerfé but couldn’t understand his enthusiasm in the slightest. He wanted to ask what drove Saerfé to such ambitions, but as the man went on and on—bringing up this or that lengthy legend and historic account, listing the names of famous swordsmen, and claiming he would eventually be among their ranks—Loren concluded the question would inspire such a lengthy monologue that it would cut into his sleeping hours. Therefore, he kept his curiosity to himself and let his mind wander during the rest of the seemingly endless sermon, which toed the fine line between aspiration and delusion.

At Saerfé’s side sat a blushing girl in light gear with short, brown hair, whose eyes seemed to sparkle as she intently watched her leader ramble on. She had introduced herself as Narron, or something to that effect. She just so happened to be Saerfé’s childhood friend; they had left their hometown together to become adventurers. With her light feet and nimble hands, Narron hoped to support Saerfé as a thief.

An adventurer “thief” was not necessarily a criminal, and as long as they registered with a guild, they wouldn’t suddenly be arrested for identifying themself as one. Not that the title constituted a legal defense should they dabble in actual thievery. In the field, a thief’s role was to detect and disengage traps in ruins and mazes, as well as to open locked doors. As for why they insisted on sharing a title with criminals, Loren had zero clue.

I guess they just couldn’t find a more appropriate name at the time, he concluded, then glanced at the next party member.

Beside the thief sat a girl who looked somewhat put off by the young man’s rambling. She wore a dark-blue robe and a staff leaned beside her. Her expression seemed annoyed, but Loren’s trained eyes didn’t miss the fleeting glances she stole at Saerfé each time she stroked her long, flowing blonde hair or the soft sighs she let out each time he got worked up. It didn’t take long to realize that, despite acting uninterested, she was listening attentively to his tale.

Her name was Oxy, and while she hadn’t known Saerfé and Narron for long, she’d met them the day they registered at the adventurers’ guild. She had remained in their party ever since. While she was apparently the same age as the other two, her staff was proof that she had already graduated from a magic academy.

“She can use magic three times in one day, you know,” Saerfé bragged.

Loren couldn’t tell whether that was amazing or not. His mercenary company hadn’t hired magicians, who were more often employed by the government or the nobility. The rest generally lent their services as adventurers, like Oxy. As far as Loren knew, hardly any chose mercenary work.

Given Saerfé’s clear pride in Oxy’s skill, Loren had to assume she was some sort of prodigy. He still questioned the usefulness of a power you could only use three times a day, but Saerfé’s boasting implied he wouldn’t take kindly to the question, and neither would Oxy. Again, Loren kept it to himself.

He always told himself: If you want to live long, you gotta be able to read the room. One thoughtless statement could very well drag him into an otherwise avoidable dispute, one with an undesirable resolution.

Finally, he glanced at the last party member, who sat next to Oxy—a girl in the largely white robes of a priest who kept her long black hair in a ponytail. Her name was Lapis, and she had pledged her faith to the god of knowledge. She maintained a somewhat troubled smile, directing an occasional apologetic glance at Loren. Having been recruited sometime after Saerfé reached town, she had known him for a longer time than Loren but a shorter time than Oxy.

Not long ago, Lapis had received her vestments as a full-fledged priest, and in order to build knowledge and experience, she had chosen the path of an adventurer instead of working within a church. From Loren’s point of view, she was quite a peculiar woman.

By offering a prayer to her god, Lapis could partially manifest a kind of miracle called a blessing. However, she bashfully confessed she was rather incompetent at her craft and could only do so twice a day. Once again, Loren couldn’t comprehend what there was to be embarrassed about. He could understand Lapis’s two was lower than Oxy’s three but didn’t see how it made much of a difference.

Perhaps it went without saying at this point, but the mercenary company hadn’t had any priests either. Priests who worked outside their church were already an oddity, and the ones who did never went out of their way to live off war and bloodshed.

Loren had never actually seen blessings at work, but he had heard they could heal wounds and neutralize poisons. Back when he was with the company, he’d thought it would be quite convenient to have a person who could do such things on hand. And now I run into one right after the company’s been annihilated. That’s life for you.

In any case, Loren had assumed Saerfé would eventually grow weary of hearing himself talk, but the man showed no such indication. Realizing he was the only one present who would even attempt to put an end to this, Loren heaved a sigh of resignation and interrupted. “Could I ask about the job?”

Saerfé looked dissatisfied; Narron, openly resentful. The story must have been getting to the good part. Loren heaved his biggest sigh yet.

Sure, he was down on his luck, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d let himself be roped into a terrible party. First off, while he admittedly had no experience as an adventurer himself, he considered the other members even worse off in that department. The next point, which bothered him to no end, was how everyone apart from Saerfé was female. Role-wise, they were decently balanced, but the gender ratio was clearly biased toward women.

There were hardly any female mercenaries. This was partly due to the scarcity of women who wanted to be mercenaries, but it was also because of the various problems that tended to spring up when women were in the company—a grim reality that had proven itself time and again.

Regardless of any knee-jerk reaction such a statement elicited, Loren had heard of a number of companies that had split or even dissolved over troubles with women—and the men who fought over them—and he didn’t think those stories were completely baseless. With that in mind, he couldn’t help but see a party full of women as equally full of potential problems and, therefore, an ample reason for concern.

However, when all was said and done, Loren didn’t intend to stick around for long. I’m only tagging along until I’ve solved my more urgent financial woes.

“Sitting around talking won’t earn me anything, is all I’m saying,” Loren said to Saerfé. “You all might have the time and money to waste, but I’m dead broke. If you’re inviting me to work, then I’d like to talk about work. Is that a problem?”

“No, you’re right. Now that we understand each other to some degree, perhaps it’s time we move on to the main topic.”

“Hey, are we seriously taking this guy along?” Narron interrupted. She made no attempt to hide her distrust of Loren. “He’s a former mercenary, isn’t he? The sorta guy who’d do anything for a quick buck. Are you sure you want him in our party?”

Loren found that to be a terrible assumption but couldn’t exactly object. Narron wasn’t wholly wrong to question his integrity. Some mercenary companies really would take on any sort of nasty job as long as they were paid handsomely. However, Loren doubted those guys made up the majority. At the very least, his company hadn’t been like that, and mercenaries did have a say in what jobs they took. Any who made a habit of picking up any and all dirty work would soon end up hounded by grudges. And you could never underestimate how far someone would go to satisfy a grudge.

A wise company took care to select work that wouldn’t generate such problems, but the existence of wise companies necessitated the existence of not-so-wise ones as well. Frankly, these not-so-wise ones lowered the reputation of all mercenaries. After all, for some reason, a bad reputation was far easier to establish than a good one.

“Didn’t you agree when I said we needed another vanguard?” Saerfé said.

“Sure, I did. But why’s it gotta be him?”

“I don’t really see a way around it,” Oxy spoke up. “Inexperienced and unaccomplished as we are, I wouldn’t expect a capable adventurer to join us. With that in mind, our best bet is to recruit someone like him, who might not be experienced as an adventurer but who knows his way around a battlefield.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but… Say, what do you think, Lapis?” Narron turned to the priest girl, desperate for backup.

Lapis glanced at Narron for an instant, then shifted her gaze to Loren and tilted her head. “I’m not so sure. He doesn’t look like a bad person to me.”

“Aw, man, this is why you sheltered priests are so hopeless. You’re only saying that because you don’t know what mercenaries are really like.”

“True, I was raised by the church, and I wouldn’t say I’m an expert on the nature of mercenaries, but I do see myself as a good judge of character.”

Narron scoffed as though disinterested, even though she had been the one to ask.

“It’s not like I’m begging you to keep me in the party,” Loren said. He did find this whole back-and-forth kind of a pain, but a part of him dearly wished to save himself the trouble of finding another party. Back in his mercenary days, he had worked with people he didn’t like numerous times. It didn’t sting too badly to just grin and bear it. “Just consider me temporary help for this one quest.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that, I could register you as an official member,” Saerfé offered.

Loren refused to answer. The way he saw it, officially joining a group he didn’t think himself likely to get along with had far more cons than pros. In fact, he could hardly think of anything he might gain from it. He decided then and there that he would search for another party once he could breathe more easily about his wallet.

“Our quest is a goblin hunt,” Saerfé declared at last. “Goblins have appeared in the woods around a town about a three-day walk east of here, and they need someone to take care of it.”

“You mean Ain Village, right? For a measly goblin hunt? Oh, come on, there’s a job way more worth our while,” Narron protested, leaving Saerfé scratching his head.

Oxy lent him a hand. “Are you talking about investigating those newly discovered ruins? There’s no way we could take on a quest like that. The guild would only assign it to a more accomplished party, anyway.”

“Keep saying that and we’ll be stuck on the dirty and cheap jobs forever.”

Saerfé shook his head. “We take these early jobs to build our skills. Once we’re good enough, the guild will let us move on to bigger, greater things. You have to put up with it for now.”

After Saerfé made the call, Narron had nothing else to say on the matter, though she was clearly still discontented.

What a disorganized party, thought Loren. But seeing as the quest was decided, he posed the next pertinent question. “How many goblins are we talking about?”

“We don’t know. A hunter spotted them in the forest and ran back to report them. Still, no matter how many there are, they’re just goblins. No big deal,” Saerfé replied.

Loren did feel a touch of anxiety about this attitude, but they were only goblins. It wouldn’t be too dangerous. He gave up pursuing the matter.

“If nothing goes wrong, I would like to depart tomorrow. How’s that sound?” he proposed.

“Right, that should…probably work out?” said Saerfé.

“Then shall we all pack enough for a round trip?” said Loren. “We’ll meet in front of the east gate tomorrow morning. Anyone have a problem with that?”

No one spoke out against the idea, so Loren’s thoughts turned to the contents of his wallet. It was quite nearly empty, no doubt about that. But he was sure he had enough to buy six days of rations. The problem was that this would leave him completely penniless. However, they would mostly be camping during the trip, and perhaps they would come across an edible animal along the way.

It should work out if I skip a few meals to buy a blanket, thought Loren as he informed Saerfé he was good to go and brought the meeting to a close.

The next morning, Loren trudged to the east gate holding a sack of food supplies, his cloth-covered sword on his back, and his worn leather armor over his chest. He had come lightly equipped, but he didn’t exactly have anything else, nor the money to replace what he’d lost.

It seemed he was a little too early. Saerfé’s party hadn’t arrived, and with nothing else to do, he struck up a conversation with the soldier guarding the gate.

Only now did Loren learn the name of the town he was staying in: Kaffa. Loren didn’t know a single thing about Kaffa. It was definitely a town in some part of some country, but mercenary life had left Loren with little knowledge about geography or politics. Also, he had run from his company’s demise as fast as he could, without caring where he ended up.

“It’s a nice town, Kaffa. Sure, it loses out to the capital, but the food’s good, the townsfolk are nice, and it’s my homeland.”

The young soldier told Loren he had been born and raised in Kaffa, though Loren fundamentally didn’t understand his attachment to it. He’d been in the mercenary business from before he knew his own name, and he’d lived like a migrating bird, each new battlefield becoming his new base of operations. As he had never settled down in one place for any extended period of time, he couldn’t help but feel a little envious of this soldier who could say from the depths of his heart that Kaffa was a good town.

But in all his life, settling down would have meant no longer being a mercenary—and Loren wouldn’t have known what he was, if not that. The prospect of being anything else had felt so far away, so beyond him. Now, he had been pushed into another life without his say-so, and he would question himself as long as he didn’t join another company.

Should he stick it out as an adventurer? Or should he give it all up and lay his roots down in this town the soldier loved so much?

Just then, Saerfé’s party finally showed up. They were all fully laden, fully stocked. Considerably better prepared than Loren, who had only one cloth sack to his name.

“Are those your comrades?” The soldier, who had spoken in such good spirits, suddenly sneered.

For a moment, Loren wondered if the man had something against adventurers themselves—but if that was the case, why didn’t he hate Loren as well? Is it because I don’t look like an adventurer?

“More like business partners,” Loren clarified. “We’re just working together for the one job.”

“That so. I don’t mean anything by it, but you should cut ties fast. This is just a little theory of mine, but you can’t trust a ‘good guy’ who fills his party with women.”

That sounds more like envy than a theory, thought Loren, but he could read the mood well enough to know not to point that out. Keeping it at a tight smile and a shrug, Loren waved goodbye to the soldier and caught up with the man leisurely walking down the main road with three women in tow.

“Did we keep you waiting?” Saerfé asked.

Loren shook his head. The meeting time had been “morning,” which was an incredibly vague interval. What’s more, he had been able to use that time meaningfully. He had no reason to complain.

“Looks like everyone’s here, so let’s be off. Seeing as it would be a pain to walk all the way there, how about we rent a wagon?”

While no one objected to Saerfé’s proposal, Loren stopped in his tracks. When discussing the quest, they had talked about the three-day walk, so he had assumed they would be going on foot.

Even if the cost of the wagon would be shared between them, it would hardly be free. Loren had used his last coin to buy a few days of food and a night at the cheapest inn in town. He was in no situation to pay fare, no matter the price.

Maybe if he walked while the others rode? No, the wagon would arrive long before him. Running, then. His only options were either that or to borrow money. Fine, then, he’d—

All of a sudden, a few coins fell into his hand.

Loren looked at them, startled, and found Lapis, the black-haired girl in the priest outfit, looking up at him with a finger over her lips. As the other members searched for a wagon that would take them through the east gate, Lapis had secretly closed in on him. It didn’t seem anyone else had noticed.

“Are you in need of assistance?” she asked with a grin. Loren didn’t quite know how to respond, and she pressed on before he could. “Ten copper. It’s not much, but it should be enough for a round trip to Ain.”

That’s where we’re going, right? Loren tugged at his memory as he dropped his eyes to the copper coins that had slithered into his hand. He sent a questioning look to Lapis.

“It’s a loan,” she teased. “Don’t think you’re taking anything from me.”

This would be a huge boon. Loren wouldn’t have to tell his party leader that he didn’t have the money. However, a mercenary rarely borrowed anything from anyone. In that life, there was no telling where you’d find yourself from day to day, so you often couldn’t guarantee you’d repay a debt, which paved the road to all manner of disputes.

Is that not the case for adventurers too? thought Loren.

But Lapis just went on, not waiting for his response. “Look at it this way: If you owe me one, I know you’ll help me out if I find myself in a tough spot. It’s a preemptive investment.”

Ah, a calculated choice. That made sense. Loren had a much harder time accepting pure charity. I should just be grateful, no need to pry into it further, he thought, discreetly slipping the coins into his pocket while dutifully lowering his head.

Lapis’s smile seemed to say, “Don’t worry about it.”

She chose the perfect time to slip away from Loren, right before Saerfé called from a short distance away.

“We found a wagon! They’ll take us to Ain for five copper a head.”

That was exactly half the sum Loren had borrowed. Relief washed over him as he pulled out five copper coins, and he walked over to where Saerfé beckoned him.

“You’re really helping us out here, man. It felt stupid wasting so much time and energy walking there,” Saerfé enthused at the wagon driver.

The man was middle-aged and from Ain; he had come to Kaffa to resupply at just the right time. His job was to carry Ain’s produce and furs to Kaffa, where he exchanged them for the tools and other supplies his village needed. On the trek over, he had brought an unwieldy mountain of goods, but as he traded them for smaller, more valuable products, there was enough space in his cart to easily seat five extra passengers on the return trip. He had accepted them in hopes of earning extra pay.

“You’re them adventurers who’re gonna take care of our goblin problem, are you? Then I best get you there right quick.”

Then you could’ve just waived the fee, thought Loren.

On the other hand, Saerfé and his cheerful companions were nothing but grateful. They gave absolutely no thought to negotiating the price. It wouldn’t do to be the only one haggling. Loren kept his mouth shut.

Farm horses were bred for strength rather than speed, and they couldn’t be expected to outrun a warhorse. That said, the wagon moved around twice walking pace, and the driver estimated they would arrive before noon the next day, assuming they didn’t keep going through the night.

Spending a day and a half constantly swaying in a horse-drawn wagon was mentally taxing, but Loren had endured it many times as a mercenary, and it wasn’t bad enough to complain. He planned on passing time talking to Saerfé and the others when he felt inclined, hoping to reach some level of mutual understanding.

This plot was quickly foiled, however, as Narron the thief and Oxy the magician monopolized Saerfé’s attention at every opportunity. Loren couldn’t see how he was supposed to butt in.

The wagon stopped only when the last sliver of sun disappeared over the horizon.

“How about we set up camp here?”

People didn’t often choose to travel at night. The main roads were generally safe and secure—adventurers dispatched bandits and monsters, as did the soldiers of whatever country the roads belonged to. Even so, it wasn’t as if attacks never happened, and that risk kept a wise traveler on their toes. The probability of an attack rose at night, and thus, the only ones who traveled by dark either had no choice, believed in their own might, or didn’t know any better.

Certainly, the man from Ain didn’t seem to fall into any one of those categories. However, when they’d booked the wagon, Loren had assumed they would be stopping at a relay station along the way. It didn’t seem like there was one, though, which meant camping out was the only option left.

Then again, Loren didn’t have the funds to rent space in a lodge even if they had found one. He had the coins Lapis had lent him, but five copper would either get him huddled up in a pile with the other guests or a spot in the stables. What’s more, he would be losing his return ticket. Either way, camping out was far better than taking another loan.

“Ahh, so tired. My butt hurts.”

“Quit complaining. We need to set up camp while there’s still light out.”

Narron and Oxy climbed down from the wagon, raising their voices without a care as to who might hear. The villager and Saerfé watched on with wry smiles.

Loren surveyed their surroundings and saw no trees or abandoned buildings behind which a monster or bandit could lurk. They had stopped in an open field, but still, Loren scowled. They were strangers here, and there was no telling whose attention their thoughtless sounds would attract. What’s more, they had no cover, meaning if they lit a fire, their location would be clear from miles away.

If Loren had his way, they would move a little further, at least until they came to some hills they could shelter near, but he didn’t know anything about the local terrain and thus didn’t know if any such place even existed.

That villager and Saerfé should know the area better than me. All I can really do is trust them and stay alert, Loren thought, his mood falling.

Saerfé’s next line delivered the finishing blow that killed his mood dead. “We’ll keep watch, you and me.”

“You want…the two of us to stay up all night?”

Counting the villager, they had six people at their disposal. In the time they had until morning, they could set up three relatively painless two-person shifts. Loren couldn’t comprehend Saerfé’s strategy, having two members go sleepless.

Saerfé’s next pronouncement was equally nonsensical. “No, we need our sleep too. We’ll rotate between us.”

“Only one lookout at a time?”

That was unthinkable to a former mercenary. Obviously Loren’s company had been able to put more people on lookout, and he didn’t mean to compare Saerfé’s party to his company, but when it came to things like lookout and recon, it was common sense to do it in pairs. You only acted alone when it was absolutely necessary—for instance, when someone got stranded away from their team.

“You got a problem with that? Leader’s orders, just shut up and do it,” Narron scolded. While Oxy didn’t say anything, she seemed to share Narron’s opinion, and the look in her eyes was cold.

On the other hand, Lapis seemed rather uninterested. She had slept nearly the whole time on the wagon yet still seemed tired. Rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn, she showed no intention of involving herself with the argument.

Realizing how pointless it would be to push back if he were the only one on his own side, Loren gave up. It was dangerous, sure, but he’d handle it. “Got it. Me and you, who’s going first?”

“Could you take the first shift? I’d like to get some sleep.”

Hey, isn’t this where the leader should step up? Loren thought. But he’d already realized the odds were stacked against him. Arguing now would only lead to more exhaustion. “Loud and clear,” he said. “I’ll wake you up around midnight. That sound good?”

“Counting on it.” Saerfé’s listless reply and dismissive hand wave made sure that was the end of it.

Loren sighed. He had been hit by an uneasy feeling far too distinct to call a gut check.

Loren’s worries soon turned into reality. Not during the watch, though. That was fine.

The cart had stopped on the road’s shoulder, the horses tethered nearby, and after the party had their meager dinner of rations, there was little left to do. Everyone headed to their own tent, leaving Loren alone to tend the fire and keep a lookout.

He hadn’t been doing that long before the voices caused his expression to stiffen. They came from the tent Saerfé was supposed to be sleeping in. The enraptured moans of two women leaked through the thin, rustling fabric. Loren didn’t make a habit of eavesdropping, but it was quite easy to imagine what was going on inside.

“C’mon, you’re outside, people…” Loren muttered in disbelief. Ugh, this is going to make it hard to switch shifts.

He didn’t want to believe they would be at it all night, and yet… Even worse, their campsite wasn’t near any water source. Loren really didn’t want to believe his party would use up their valuable water to clean up afterward. But if they didn’t, the smells and moisture in Saerfé’s tent would grow unbearable. Maybe it would clear up a bit if left to morning, but the vestiges would undoubtedly remain through midnight, when it was time for shift change. Loren felt terribly uninclined to stick his head into that tent.

“Can’t they hold themselves back for just one day?”

What’s more, he could definitely hear two women. Although, even if Loren could distinguish two separate voices, he hadn’t known them long enough to tell who was who. The thief girl was almost a guarantee. But the other?

Loren pondered this exceedingly worthless riddle as a means of warding off his drowsiness, all the while readying himself to go the night without sleep.

Don’t be too down. It’s not all bad, he thought as he lowered his eyes to the flaring fire. Even though sleepiness was setting in, these days, he found he could never rest with any true ease. Up until now, he’d always had someone he knew nearby. Now, he had no one.

Saerfé’s party just doesn’t do it for me, he thought absentmindedly. They were business partners at best, and in any case, they’d barely gotten to know each other. Never once in his life had he passed so much time without comrades, and thanks to that, his heart was terribly restless.

Just like yesterday. Loren cracked a bitter smile. In the large communal room of the cheapest inn, huddled up with other broke guests, he had fallen into a cycle of shallow sleep and abrupt awakening until the sun rose. It was thanks to this awful night that he had arrived at the meeting spot before the others, and he felt he hadn’t resolved any of his fatigue.

It shouldn’t be a problem for this job. He considered his physical condition as he snapped a dry branch in two and threw it into the flames.

Sleep deprivation and deteriorating health. These would without a doubt slow his movements and dull his judgment. While they hadn’t yet reached a life-threatening level, Loren’s body demanded rest.

But he simply couldn’t.

What had become of the comrades he lost sight of in the frenetic last moments of that battle? He had been keeping his mind off of them, but that grew increasingly difficult to do as he sat alone in the dark, relying on a fire to watch over nothing.

He frowned. If they’re alive, maybe we’ll meet again someday.

But Loren couldn’t stop himself from realizing how low the chance of that was. The battle had been violent and unforgiving. His survival was nothing short of miraculous.

“But no one’s going to smite me for having hope, right?” he muttered.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Surprised that his unconscious words—spoken while he was certain no one was listening—had elicited a response, Loren’s muscles coiled and he reached for the hilt of the sword beside him.

“Did I startle you? I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” There stood Lapis, frantically waving her empty hands. She still wore her vestments, despite the fact that she should have been sleeping in her own tent.

Seeing that she wasn’t an enemy, Loren tentatively released his weapon. However, he couldn’t fathom why she had approached him so late at night, and he eyed her with full suspicion.

“Truth be told, the tent next door was a bit too…noisy,” Lapis said, as if she’d taken his silence as a question.

Either way, Loren understood where she was coming from, and his doubts dissipated. He could hardly blame her. In short, Loren’s sleep wasn’t the only one Saerfé was ruining. Alas, the tents were only made to provide protection from the cold. They were hardly soundproofed.

Lapis sighed and admitted that if she’d fallen asleep and stayed that way until morning, she might have woken up none the wiser, but as luck would have it, she’d opened her eyes just a bit ago. Even as a priest sheltered from the ways of the world, those sounds were unmistakable. As the noises continued without end, rediscovering sleep’s embrace had proved a herculean task.

“I couldn’t manage it, so, I, well…”

“Yeah, I get it. My condolences,” Loren wearily replied.

For some reason, Lapis chose to sit right beside him, her expression troubled. “Would you mind if I joined you?” she asked. “Until, well…until things settle down.”

You make it pretty hard to say no after you’ve already sat down, Loren thought, though he only nodded. He didn’t really care either way, and it wasn’t like she could sit by anything else apart from the fire.

It might actually be convenient to have her around. Her presence could help him fight off drowsiness. And his responsibility as lookout was to keep an eye on her, which he couldn’t do if he couldn’t see her.

“Are they always like this?” he asked. “I mean, I get that adventuring’s an unsteady trade. Some things you want to take care of when you don’t know if you’ll be around tomorrow.”

Lapis sighed. “I’d like to say, ‘not always,’ but this actually happens more than you’d think. Does it sound too cynical if I say, ‘I’m glad they’re healthy’?”

Loren was somewhat surprised by her response. He had never properly spoken to a priest before. As a matter of fact, he was sure they lived in completely different worlds. He lived by killing, while a priest lived by offering their life to a god. They had nothing in common. The priests he’d known had only come to treat a gravely injured member of his company, and then only when that person was indispensable and the company had the surplus funds to afford the treatment. These priests were always nagging old men with difficult expressions who could only be summoned by sizable donations.

However, the sighing girl sitting beside him, speaking thinly veiled vulgarity, was quite a different breed from those old men, and it amazed Loren to think that priests like her also existed in the world.

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask them to choose a proper time and place,” said Lapis. “That said, most gods do teach to ‘be fruitful and multiply,’ so some might say they’re fighting the good fight.”

People hated prying questions. Anyone who chose the mercenary life had a thing or two they didn’t want anyone else to know, and time and again Loren had respected this rule of privacy. As such, deciding what he could and couldn’t ask often confounded him, especially as he could think of countless times a mercenary he knew had asked the wrong question and made a mess of things.

But midnight was a long way off yet, too long to spend with nothing to talk about. And Lapis had an easy air, for a priest. Loren timidly concluded something small would be all right.

“There are loads of those gods or whatnot out there, right?” he said. “Which one were you a priest of again?”

“I serve the god of knowledge, Kuhklu,” she replied. “Although you should be a bit more respectful when referring to gods. I’m not bothered, but from time to time, you’ll run into a priest who’s really particular, so you should be careful.”

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’m a merc, born and bred. Don’t have much of an education. You’ll have to excuse me on that one.”

“Right, I almost forgot about that. So what made you want to become an adventurer?”

Loren grimaced at the ease with which she dug into his vulnerabilities, but he had a policy against refusing to reply to someone who had properly answered his own questions. After a moment of silence, he curtly replied. “My company’s not around anymore.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. Sounds like I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Nothing new. Happens all the time.”

Although many mercenary companies called themselves invincible, few ever managed to match that claim. Most went through the cycle of wins and losses, suffering and inflicting casualties in turn. Sometimes new members joined, other times they left. However, at times, an unlucky company suffered such heavy losses it could no longer maintain itself as such. It had just so happened to be his company’s turn this time around. But the rise and fall of companies at large was in itself anything but noteworthy.

“Sure, I could keep it up if I found some other company,” said Loren. “Maybe I will. But I need the funds to get out of Kaffa and find one. Until then, all I have are the skills that might earn me coin.”

“Is that so…ah, Mr. Loren, was it? You do look strong.” Lapis’s eyes shifted to the greatsword beside him.

Though it was crude and simple, Loren had gotten plenty of use out of that blade. It had not a single decoration and stood just about tall enough to reach Loren’s chest. Nothing stood out about it besides its bulk and the long, rag-wrapped handle, and it was just as heavy as it looked. It had taken a few years before Loren could use it to his liking, but through many a repair and reforging, he had kept it usable long past its due date.

“Why, its blade is just about as thick as my waist,” Lapis mused.

Was she trying to say the blade was too thick, or was she bragging about her own slenderness? Loren couldn’t decide which, so he deftly hoisted it up with his left hand to compare them.

Both the blade and hilt were solid iron, with no measures taken to lighten them.

Lapis’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m surprised you can actually hold that.”

“It’s a two-handed weapon, but you’re not always gonna have two hands free. I’ve trained to swing it in either,” Loren said as he stood. He lightly pressed the bare tip of the blade into the ground. “Want to compare?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Loren had intended that as a joke, but with nothing better to do, Lapis hopped aboard. She jumped up, turned her back to Loren, and pressed it against the erect sword.

“How does it look? I think I have the upper hand.”

Loren studied Lapis’s waist against the metal. Her midsection disappeared behind the blade—which meant she was right, and she was slimmer than the sword. However, when his eyes traced down further, he saw that her hips did extend just slightly beyond the edge. This wasn’t due to any particular curviness, just the natural shape of a girl her age.

“H-how is it? Ah… I am thinner than it, right? Huh? Don’t tell me…”

Loren’s lack of response seemed to fluster her. As silence could at times be a form of kindness, she evidently feared the meaning of Loren’s unspeaking stare.

Not the time to say anything about anyone’s hips, then. “Yeah, you’re right. My weapon’s definitely the winner here.”

“I know, right? Obviously. Ahem, yes, it’s only to be expected.” Lapis seemed relieved, and she puffed out her chest as if to insist she had never worried at all.

In the end, Loren continued talking with Lapis until morning. He considered rotating shifts with Saerfé at midnight, but he felt an extreme reluctance toward sticking his head into the tent after the activities that had clearly taken place within it. He had ultimately concluded he was better off just spending another sleepless night taking care of things himself.

Said activities finished in a reasonable span of time. Loren expected Lapis to return to her tent at that point, but she didn’t. Instead, she volunteered to stay up with him, all the way until morning.

Pure chance gave Loren the two-person watch he had so longed for; he had no reason to refuse. For a moment, he worried inexperience would mean Lapis would suffer a great deal from a sleepless night. However, she told him that novice priests often performed duties that required foregoing sleep, and she had trained to withstand several days without it. Loren took her word for it.

Their conversation mainly drifted from pointless gossip to small talk and back again. Lapis had spent the entirety of her life in the church and she lacked a rich range in conversation topics, but she did her level best to keep the ball rolling and come up with subjects Loren could engage with. He found that quite pleasant.

And yet, he always found himself rather dumbfounded whenever she said she wanted to hear about his mercenary days. Why would a church-raised priest want to hear a tale of bloodstained savages? He cocked his head, but he ultimately decided she probably wanted to acquire as much information as she could to help her make it as an adventurer. He answered her questions to the best of his abilities, and soon enough, it was morning. Somehow, it seemed to have come so quickly.

“Huh? Why’s it morning already? What about rotation?” Saerfé sounded confused as he poked his head out of the tent. The morning light had woken him.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done,” Loren replied, taking great care to keep discontentment out of his voice.

Narron and Oxy indecorously shambled out after Saerfé, their clothes still disheveled and rubbing their sleepy eyes. The absolute absence of shame made Loren’s sigh escape his lips before he could even put a complaint into words. Saerfé, meanwhile, awkwardly laughed and scratched his head without a shred of guilt for keeping his party members up all night. Loren decided once again to find another source of income the moment this job was over.

“We’ll head out soon as we eat,” said the driver. “The village is just a little farther on.”

The driver’s carefree smile made Loren hold his head—did he not find this questionable? Saerfé’s party replied all too energetically, completely oblivious to their misbehavior. Lapis only offered a troubled laugh.

The rest of the journey to the village passed without any particularly noteworthy incidents. Evidently, the local soldiers and adventurers were doing their job ridding the road of danger, and they saw neither head nor tail of monster or bandit.

Ain, newly built and still ramshackle, looked about as normal as it could be, so far as Loren could tell at a distance. Log houses lined the streets, and a rudimentary yet sturdy wall stretched around it. The village did have measures in place to protect it from intruding forces, though their actual usefulness was another matter entirely.

The vegetable fields lay outside the fence, but that was to be expected. The village existed in order to claim new farmland, and if they tried to keep encircling all their claimed territory, they’d need fences for each new field. What’s more, the manpower necessary to make fences was already occupied.

Also, while the fence protected the villagers to a certain degree, it couldn’t protect them against everything. Living this far in the outlands came hand in hand with danger; the lives people led here couldn’t be compared to those of people who dwelt in the bosom of civilization.

Near the village lay a thick, vast forest, the one they would scour for goblins. Loren considered how they would go about this as the party descended the wagon, but Saerfé’s sudden pronouncement made him doubt his ears.

“All right, off we go, then. The early bird gets the worm.”

Sure, they had time—it was a little before noon—so that wasn’t a problem.

“But—we’re taking a job from the village,” said Loren. “Shouldn’t we tell the chief we’re here or something? He’ll tell us what we need to know about the situation.”

“We just have to get rid of the goblins, right?” Narron snapped, as usual. “What else do we need to know?”

“How many of them there are, for one. For another, I won’t feel like we’re doing a proper job if we don’t at least meet the client first.”

“Then tell the guy who drove us here to send our regards! How much time do you want us to waste on a simple goblin hunt?”

Simple or not, a job’s a job, thought Loren.

But he’d long since realized his party didn’t share the sentiment, and he let out his umpteenth sigh. Mercenaries made sure their leader met with the client no matter what, yet what he considered common sense apparently didn’t apply to the adventuring trade.

“I’ll put in a good word with the chief. If you can get rid of ’em fast, you got my blessing,” the villager said.

Narron glared at Loren as if to say, “See? What did I tell you?” She snorted, taking Loren’s lack of retort as a sign of defeat.

Saerfé lightly tapped her on the head as a mild scold, then turned to the rest. “We should finish up quickly so the villagers can finally have some peace of mind.”

“Of course. We’ll get it done without breaking a sweat—we don’t even need a certain neurotic mercenary.”

“Narron, he’s going to be our shield. We’re taking him whether you like it or not,” Oxy chided.

Hold up, who said I was a shield? Loren’s mood soured as his hand crept toward the hilt of the sword on his back. He had nothing against fighting on the front line, but being openly treated as a meat shield was something else entirely.

“Umm, if you get hurt, I’ll use a heal blessing,” said Lapis.

Was she trying to stick up for him or console him?

Either way, Narron objected. “That’s a waste of a good heal. Save it for if Saerfé gets injured.”

“R-right.”

Loren shook his head. “Don’t let them get to you,” he said to Lapis quietly.

Come to think of it, his lack of finances meant he’d brought nothing but food and a blanket—he had nothing in the way of the medicinal salves he’d usually have on hand. While injury wasn’t always a guarantee, one wrong step could easily leave him beyond repair. His mood didn’t improve as he considered the worst-case scenario, where he’d have to shred his own clothes for bandages.

While a dark cloud hung over Loren, it was only sunshine for Saerfé and his followers as they said their goodbyes to the villager. They seriously intended to head into the forest without setting foot in the village. If Loren fell behind, there was no telling what they’d say next.

I don’t need any more reasons to hate myself. He picked up his pace ever so slightly.

“For starters, I’ll take the lead,” said Saerfé. “Narron, you follow me. Oxy and Lapis, stay in the center, and Loren, watch our rear.”

Loren silently nodded. The orders were appropriate but uninteresting. A reliable, sound formation. At least Saerfé had a grasp on the fundamentals of orchestrating a party.

When all was said and done, however, they had jack and squat in the way of information about these so-called goblins from the client, which left them wandering the forest in vain.

This is going to take a while, Loren thought as he kept himself at the ready for any attack from the rear.

It was like fishing without knowing if the river even had fish. Naturally, in this analogy, their party took up the role of bait. If you tossed the bait in a good fishing spot, you could expect a decent catch. But when you haphazardly cast into unknown waters, it all came down to luck.

“Hey, look, Saerfie. There’s a raspberry bush by your feet,” said Narron.

“Raspberries, eh? I haven’t had one of those in a while. How about we harvest some?” said Saerfé.

“Evening primrose, fox bamboo…there are quite a few decent reagents growing here,” said Oxy.

“Um…Narron? Oxy? Shouldn’t we focus on the goblin hunt? Are you listening?”

Not long into their search, Loren vehemently wished to leave. Lacking basic information, the only way to fulfill their quest was to wander in circles until they encountered the goblins. That didn’t mean getting distracted. Yet here Saerfé’s party was, actually acting on their impulses. Narron and Saerfé went straight to the raspberries, and Oxy to her reagents. None of them listened to Lapis’s timid attempts to rein them in.

Loren had long since given up on telling them anything. In fact, he faintly hoped the ruckus of their selfish distractions would draw a goblin’s interests.

At length, Lapis realized the futility of her actions. She walked over to Loren with a resignation on her face. “Is this really all right?”

He hadn’t come equipped with a response. Ignoring a job in favor of personal interests would be a critical error for any mercenary worth his salt. Loren didn’t know if it was worth scolding them. Seemed more likely to be a waste of breath.

“How ’bout we just let them have their damn way? It’s out of my hands now.” He couldn’t keep his tone from turning gruff.

Contrary to his expectations, Lapis giggled. “Ah, I see you’ve given up, Mr. Loren.”

“And you’re saying you haven’t?”

“I just temporarily lost heart.”

The way she dropped her shoulders took a load off Loren’s mind. If that’s enough to pep me up, I must be pretty tired.

He needed this job done, and soon. However, that required the cooperation of Saerfé’s party. If he turned tail now, he didn’t exactly have any leads on how to pay for the trip back, reimburse Lapis, or buy more food.

Neither the thought of staying nor that of leaving made him feel any more optimistic. For now, watching over Saerfé and his friends was probably his best bet. Narron kept getting distracted by mushrooms and raspberries, and Saerfé lazily followed behind. Oxy, meanwhile, searched high and low for reagents to use in medicines or more unsavory concoctions.

“Woman, I’m surprised you put up with this.”

Lapis, sitting at Loren’s side, glared at him with somewhat sharper eyes than usual, taking him by surprise. “It doesn’t feel nice to be called ‘woman,’ you know.”

Ah, point taken. But that left him with a problem. How did she want to be addressed, then? After a moment, he hesitantly rephrased. “Ms. Lapis?”

“Lapis is fine. Why did you say that like a question?”

“I’ve never had the chance to call a woman by name.”

In fact, the only women Loren had interacted with in any capacity were the occasional female servers in bars, ones he had never visited twice, as the bar changed with every battlefield. The company had relied on specialists to secure food and other supplies, so Loren had rarely even met shop clerks. Regardless, he’d never known anyone outside his company long enough to get on a first-name basis.

“But if you’re fine with that, you can call me Loren too.”

“Oh no, I insist, it simply must be Mr. Loren.”

So that’s where you draw the line? Loren frowned.

Lapis hurriedly explained herself, hands waving in a panic. “Well, no, you see, it’s just a matter of how I tend to speak. It’s not as if I’m trying to keep you at arm’s length, Mr. Loren.”

“Call me whatever’s easiest.”

Frankly, her fluster left Loren with an odd sense of relief.

As for the rest of the party, who still weren’t paying them the least bit of attention, Loren found himself praying to whatever god would hear. Won’t you please send us a goblin attack soon?