1-15 Neapolitan
I snapped awake.
The morning light filtered in. Beside me lay Sarsa, her nightclothes disheveled in sleep.
First time I'd woken up before her... Was she nervous? Her sleep must've been shallow.
"Ah... Mm, Master? Good morning."
I was changing in silence when Sarsa stirred.
"Sorry, did I wake you?"
"No... You're up early today, aren't you...?"
Morning Sarsa was a rare sight. All soft and fuzzy—adorable.
Last night, I'd finally made her come from the inside for the first time.
It felt as proud as losing my virginity—no, even more so. Like I'd been validated as a man.
"I got a bit rough, but you okay?"
"...Yawn~ Yes."
She yawned. Looked plenty relaxed. Yeah, she'd be fine.
Today, I kept the morning cuddle short and headed for breakfast.
The inn's dining hall opened early.
Tough gig. Traveling merchants griped if it wasn't open before dawn.
I left final luggage checks to Sarsa and headed to the government office. It was open, as expected.
"I'd like to temporarily revoke my residency permit."
"Huh? Oh, residency permit. Would've been nice if you'd done this yesterday."
Didn't you tell me to come today? Different clerk, but still.
A bit annoyed, I went through the procedures.
Offices opened early for emergencies, apparently.
They didn't want to waste staff on minor stuff like permit revocations.
Not my problem.
"There, revoked. Records are kept, so come to the same window for reapplication."
"Got it."
"Reissues cost one silver coin too, so watch it."
This world—or this town—loved its fees at every turn. No helping it.
That's how they paid the clerks.
They even made me pay the prorated renewal fee for the year-end. Two silver coins.
Stung a little, but big job ahead. I'd recoup it soon.
No choice.
Now my only ID was the guild card.
If some scary bigshot targeted me, no official help. I'd warn Sarsa later.
In the cool morning air, I grabbed some meat skewers from a stall just opening up and headed to the weapon smith.
Replenishing Sarsa's arrows, and getting a holster for the magic gun made while at it.
"We're not leatherworkers," he grumbled, but took the silver.
Integrate it with the sword belt, hide under the chest-side cape.
Though I might not actually put the gun in it. Could just pull from subspace like I'd taken it from a leather pouch.
"Huh, quick work. Got what you ordered."
"Nice. Felt off without the sword belt."
"Don't talk like some pro swordsman, rookie."
Trading barbs, he handed over the belt.
Faked pulling the magic gun from the pouch, checked the holster fit.
Dad watched with keen interest.
"That's a magic blaster staff, right? Thought so yesterday—looks weird."
"Hm? It's a magic gun."
"Magic gun? What's that?"
That's my line.
Magic guns existed here... right?
Maybe produced far away.
"You said something earlier... uh, what's a magic blaster staff?"
"You don't know? Tool that slots magic stones to blast spells. That bulge has some kinda stone, yeah?"
"Dunno. Maybe it's a type of magic blaster staff."
"Figured. Magic gun, huh... Might look into it."
"Hey, don't spill about me."
"I ain't senile enough to blab about customers."
"Good. Could be the latest model... Lemme analyze it later?"
"Nah. Scared you'll break it."
"Won't! Just check magic flow, parts shape..."
"Sounds like disassembly to me. Pass."
"Tch... Fine."
So magic guns were rare. Good to know. Tell Elliott's crew it's like a used magic blaster staff.
"Thanks, old man. Payment here."
"Yeah, hit me up again. No more leatherwork though."
"Gotcha..."
Weaponsmith, after all. Holstered the magic gun, felt like a western gunslinger heading back to the inn.
"I'm back, Sarsa—wow, all set."
"Yes, perfectly prepared. Just need you to change, Master."
She closed in quick, so I groped her ass then hurried into leather armor.
Belted the sword belt over it.
Sword on back, of course. Magic gun in chest holster—might demo it.
"Eek!! Enough playtime, please... When escorting with others, you'll tone it down, right?"
"No holding back, no fawning, no regrets...!!"
"Uh...?"
"Kidding. I'll ease up in public. But tent time, I'll make up for it—with extra Sarsa servings. Brace yourself."
"Y-Yes..."
Sudden post-apoc vibe confused her big time. Yoyo regrets. Already reflecting...
"Ah~, changed. Let's go. Stick to the plan."
"Yes."
Hand signals to hide from others, subspace rules, secret priorities—we'd planned it all yesterday.
Full gear, Sarsa in tow, strutting like pros... without bumping folks.
Just weeks ago on Earth, now fully immersed in this merc life. Armored up, armed, strolling town at dawn.
East gate after ages.
Short line for exit procedures. Off to the side, Elliott's crew and wagons waited without blocking.
Probably wagons.
The "horses" I'd practiced on differed from the wagon pullers. Call 'em wagons?
More like buffed Komodo dragons with longer legs?
Strong lookin'.
"Hey hey, you must be... Yoyo?"
Elliott hand on sword, wary. Removed helmet to show face, ease suspicions.
"Late?"
"Nah, merchants' guards ain't all here yet."
"Perfect timing then. Got something to discuss."
Told Elliott about the magic blaster staff-like tool. Wanna save for emergencies.
"Hmm, magic blaster staff. Got it now?"
"Yeah... This."
Unholstered from chest, showed it.
"Odd shape. Got it."
"Attack option on the move, so figured report it."
"Smart. Leader needs to know hands. What kinda blast?"
"What blast?"
"...It's a magic blaster staff?"
"Probably."
"They use fire stones for fireballs, that sorta thing."
"Ah, yeah. Shoots... light blobs?"
"...Light magic?"
"Dunno. Feels heat-based too."
"Hm. Rare fire magic? Anyway, treat like fireball blast in plans. Cool?"
"Yeah. Impulse buy on a whim after big payout—sorry, skimped details."
"Haha, Yoyo buys slaves quick too. Can't trust you with big cash."
"...Can't argue."
Stowed gun, waited for stragglers.
"Our mounts?"
"Marie bringing later. Just two, so no overdoing."
"Hm, flank guard then."
"Yup. With your mobile attack, you and me center on mounts?"
"Yeah. Don't wanna ride all-ladies wagon, target's female too."
Elliott smirked teasingly, shrugged.
"You say surprisingly thoughtful stuff sometimes. Rest is pure merc."
"Really? Male guards awkward for ladies—toilets, etc. Hard to protect. Patch as attendant fits."
"Exactly. Trishiera and Sarsa on wagon top for watch."
"Oi, memorized my slave's name already? Quick."
"Never forget girls' names."
Wink. Annoyingly suave.
"You memorized Marie's crew fast too."
"Yeah... Stuck naturally."
"Cute names... Unforgettable."
"If you say."
Sarsa's name cuter, though. Obvious, no need to say. Too obvious.
Elliott grinned amused.
"You've changed since buying Sarsa. For the better."
"Better?"
"More relaxed. More human."
"Huh."
"And girl-crazy vibe upped."
"Good thing."
"Good thing!"
Consensus reached as a mounted group approached.
Lead: chainmail-clad spear warrior. Handlebar mustache, slicked-back hair. Intimidating.
"You the mercs hired for Emond lady's guard!?"
"That's us. Who're you?"
Elliott queried casually from mount.
"Emond private warriors, cavalry captain Callwing!"
"Got it. The lady?"
"Here."
Aawinda dismounted through the horses, stepped forward.
Full plate armor, sword at hip. Warrior vibe.
"Huh, lady fights too."
Slipped out. Callwing glared murderously from horseback. Manga killing intent real.
"Yes, I'm a warrior of sorts."
"Warrior of sorts...?"
"None of your business. Lady, let's prep departure."
Callwing cut in.
Aawinda boarded wagon—Komodo wagon?—with two attendants. Guards loaded luggage.
"Captain, we guard wagon center and flanks, your squad fore and aft—correct?"
Elliott confirming with captain.
Captain grumbled at mercs central but accepted.
"No choice—betrayal from our own... Master trusts you, no objections. Unusual, though."
"Thanks. Commands separate fine, but follow in group moves?"
"Can't. We're Emond cavalry. Won't take merc orders."
"...Understood. Then suggestions, requests. We're central, good situational awareness."
"Fine. Opinions okay, judgment ours."
"Got it."
...Elliott's got it rough.
Glad not leader. Deep down.
"You there, merc."
Silence. Captain eyed me.
......
......
"...Me?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Emond's merchants, but Master hobnobs lords. Mind your attitude."
"...Ah, less familiar."
"Yes. Speech too. Know your breeding, but crude talk reflects on lady, firm."
"Gotcha."
"Consider it. Good lesson for rising."
"If you say."
Unclear what "rising" meant, but he considered us, so no pushback.
"Pleasure."
Captain dismounted gracefully, rallied troops.
Late, camp tonight if slow. No burdening lady or pay cut, etc.
Tough spot with traitor from ranks.
High-handed, but probably more burdened.
"You set?"
Marie appeared behind guards.
Riding one, leading two more by reins. Ours.
"Got a packhorse too. Load luggage."
"Packhorse? Right."
Packhorse for cargo. Flank riders battle-ready, extra non-combat hauler.
Still, needs rider control at wagon pace. Marie handling.
"Me and Yoyo center flanks. Marie right, back him up?"
Elliott. I could mount now, but escort needed scouting skills. Grateful for Marie.
"No swaps?"
"As needed. Roles balanced, stick unless exhausted."
"Makes sense. Marie covering helps. Oh, yeah..."
Told Marie about magic gun lightly. Right flank duo, better share cards.
"Huh, magic blaster staff. Pricey."
"Big payout from lady job—impulse buy. Broke now."
"Idiot..."
Marie soft expression. Used to dumb guys via Elliott.
Sarsa end up like her...?
"Lord Elliott, lady ready."
Patch reported from wagon.
"Good. Positions. Marie, horses here."
"Sarsa, wagon too. Patch on lady duty—help her."
"Understood."
Sarsa, hidden behind, boarded crisply.
Elliott prepping with Marie, so joined, mounted.
Stirpups-like, grips on beast. Reins complex, multiple types unlike Earth.
"Phew. On."
"Riding practice?"
"Barely. No charges—don't expect."
"Not asking that. Can't myself."
Elliott laughed brightly. Even horse-pro him couldn't.
Cavalry charges tough, huh. Military only anyway.
"Ready here! You?"
Callwing yelled ahead.
"Good! Depart!"
Elliott yelled back, advanced to gate.
Mission start.
Outskirts slow, scanning, gradually speeding.
Passed pedestrians, merchants afoot.
Wagon at trot, stabilized. Top popped open—Trishiera peeked. Wagon crew's watch post.
"Lady okay!?"
Elliott bellowed. Hooves drowned voices despite proximity.
"Fine!"
"Roger!"
First stop: Hangulton, east fork before wetlands.
No spawns en route, no monster haunts. Strays or bandits main threats.
No thief pursuit. Just heavy hoofbeats. Rhythmic—sleepy.
Reviewed reins hours, fighting drowsiness.
Marie signaled—wagon crew nocked arrows skyward.
"Monsters?"
Asked nearing her mount.
"Kaikerados from west chasing. Safe inside, but shoo early."
Wagon slowed slight. Trishiera atop signaled me.
"What?"
"Wanna see yours—Elliott asks one blast from your staff."
"Got it."
Unholstered chest. West—rear.
Matched wagon speed, no full turn, glanced back.
Tough...
"Circling left! Might attack—stay on!"
Marie. No monster sighted—her eyes insane.
"Incoming! Ready!"
Wagon steady slow-fast. Left: shrill keekee bird cry.
"Low flight... We're targeted."
Marie right—big bird burst tree shadow, straight at wagon. Elliott ahead?
Tough shot, but readied magic gun.
Wagon arrows flew. Bird—Kaikerados—wobbled past to right.
Fired speed-tuned. High-pitched keen, light bolt.
Aimed center, veered left slight. Wing hit—good enough.
Fell, trampled by rear guards.
Suddenly, Kaikerados circled wagon.
Most arrow-stuck, downed by dives on Elliott, Marie, guards.
Shot easy aerial targets at zero relative.
Three shots, flock fled. Quiet.
"No stones?"
Wagon ignored corpses, eastbound.
"Guard priority. Kaikerados barely drop stones—strays especially."
"Huh."
Marie nonchalant. Some monsters stone-less.
"More, that staff—okay blasting so much?"
"Yeah, fine."
Overdid...?
"Stone consumption adds up."
"...True."
Assumed stone-powered. No need correct. Good excuse for rarity.
Sun high, muggy—halt signal.
"Break. Inn here, but no enter."
Elliott neared on mount. Marie scanned alert.
"Here?"
"Podunk relay. Foot travel, dusk here."
"Ah."
Wooden fence enclosed—base functional. Slagee walls made this iffy.
"Lunch here."
"Yup. You with lady."
"...Why?"
"Sarsa trade-off."
"Huh?"
Lady side ladies preferred. Sarsa in meant me too.
"You saved her... Sell the favor."
"Sigh."
I found her screaming. Avoided fine too.
Inn fit wagons. Street relay—fenced basics.
Ground floor parking, ample ties.
Some cavalry rotated watch.
Mount hassle, rushed stairs to diner. Family restaurant all wood.
"Late."
Glared: cavalry captain. Callwing.
Him too...
"Sorry."
"Ordered casual."
"Fine."
Open seats: across/adjacent Aawinda at head(?) spot.
Sarsa across, me right-next—facing captain. Damn.
"Issue?"
"No, mount tying took time."
"I see."
Aawinda nodded, armored off—traveler garb. Safe?
"No horse knack?"
Captain.
"Not really."
"Figures. Worrying."
"Rely on you en route."
"Obvious ass-kiss."
Snorted, glared again.
"Callwing, don't bully Yoyo."
"Hah, apologies."
"I'm leaving home—no need such formality..."
Aawinda troubled.
Emond drama.
Up close, she seemed tense, weary. Emergency last meet—normal now?
Safe topic. Curiosity piqued.
"Lady Aawinda, question?"
"Yes?"
"You mentioned adventurers before."
"Oh. Good memory."
Goblin rescue: she spotted us, "Adventurers?" Skipped then, bugged me.
"East no adventurer system... Uncle pointed out post-talk."
"West has? What kind?"
"Interested? Fits monster-hunting mercs."
"Monster hunters?"
"Partly. Adventurer guild—organization registers 'em."
"Hm..."
Classic fantasy guild?
"Heard originated Osooka Domain Alliance, pioneer mutual aid."
"Mutual aid."
"Osooka monster wars harsh. Evolved combat prep. Kingdom guilds mimicked."
"Guilds."
Imperial for "union." English gloss—adventurer guild vibes.
"Fancy union. Posturing."
Like hipster loanwords.
"Kingdom: Eisen Duke started supporting managing monster mercs/groups. Spreading west."
"Interesting. My main gig."
"Yes."
Aawinda smiled gentle. Perked up?
Explanation lover.
"Won't merc guilds clash?"
Captain serious poke.
"Lord-led intros, adjusted fine."
"Hm, useful for spawn-ringed Slagee."
"Uncle could suggest to lord."
Captain nodded convinced.
Happy at lady's smarts peek.
How old? Kid-like, but sharp answers.
Gov agency chat... independent corp?
Knowing history, purpose—impressive.
"Lady's knowledgeable."
"No, hardly..."
"Not kissing up."
Smiled.
"Interested true, but didn't expect clear rundown."
"R-Really...?"
Aawinda blushed, shy. Age-appropriate cute. Age unknown.
"Pardon, orders: tomato-sauced boiled noodles."
Food arrived. Served great Aawinda first.
Tomato-sauced boiled noodles. Neapolitan.
Kid menu. Reassuring.