1-17 Hangulton
The road twisted and turned repeatedly but gradually widened, opening up the view ahead.
Along the way, I was shocked to see the cavalry mercilessly trampling a figure that leaped out from the side. But apparently, it was a subhuman.
In this world, "subhuman" specifically refers to monsters that resemble humans. The kemomimi girl I'd seen at the slave market in Chef Slagee, or people with skin colors impossible on Earth—they weren't subhumans; they were just regular races.
Subhumans are classified that way because they look kinda human but are still monsters. There's an insurmountable wall between humans and subhumans.
"There are a lot of subhumans in the eastern wetlands. The risk of encounters will only increase from here," Elliott said during a break.
It was in the Center's materials too, so I'd studied up. Still, there's stuff you can't learn from books, so traveling with this experienced group was reassuring.
Isn't this escort gig kinda iffy?
I wasn't hiding the magic gun from Elliott's group anymore, so I could use it openly—that was a relief. It'd be stupid to get into a pinch because I was hiding it, and without the magic gun, who knows how that rock dog fight would've gone. Balancing that stuff is tricky. What to do after splitting from Elliott's crew...
The occasional lone subhumans didn't even need the magic gun; the lead cavalry kicked them flying. A few bird-type monsters were driven off with arrows.
As the sun dipped low, we picked up speed and rushed through the town walls.
It was the town of Hangulton.
Hangulton's walls were lower than Slagee's, and the whole town felt smaller.
Apparently, it started as an inn that sprang up naturally along the trade route. Compared to Slagee, which was purposefully built as a settlement and populated, it was bound to be modest.
Lately, they'd been growing grains using the wetlands to the east. Since we came from the west, we might've missed the prosperity.
That rice-like grain—I've started thinking of it as actual rice in my head. Maybe it's produced east of Hangulton.
Thanks, it's good rice.
"We can stay overnight today... though we'll have watch duty," Elliott said with a grin. Tomorrow was camping.
Camping, huh... Well, probably more comfortable than the homeless-style camping from my early Slagee days. Maybe.
The group headed into a fine inn facing the central square.
It was overkill for nobility, but apparently, security-wise, it was the only option.
Rooms: One suite for Lady Aawinda, two for the cavalry, and one shared by me, Sarsa, Elliott's group. Patch was in the lady's room as her dedicated Healer and chat buddy.
Of course, guards took turns watching her door.
They even had chairs for the guards outside the suite. What a world.
This is a whole new world I never touched back on Earth.
"Three shifts. The two ladies first, then me, then Yoyo-kun and Sarsa-chan. Sound good?"
"No objections."
I'd dived onto one of the big beds in the room when Elliott scanned everyone and spoke.
Hmm, pretty nice bed. But hard. Bad springs? Or no springs at all?
"What about the cavalry guys?"
Marie was sprawled on the next bed, sighing like an old man, but she'd perked up.
"Same shifts as us. Pairing up with them for guard duty."
"...Figures."
"Can't be helped. They hired us 'cause they don't fully trust their own privates. Mutual surveillance, right?"
"Ugh."
Marie sank back into the bed.
I felt a weight too. Paired with that captain? What do I even talk about? Just stay quiet? Nah, the air'd die.
"...Sarsa~."
I snagged Sarsa, who'd quietly sat on the bed, for some healing.
Prepped her not to resist hugs, so she just looked troubled and accepted it. Heh, perfect crime.
Locked in with both arms, face buried in her chest—sniff sniff. Mmm, a hint of sweat. Nice.
"Haa~ You guys always like this?"
Marie sighed from bed, face turned our way. No usual intimidation since she was lying down.
"Not always..."
"Pretty much."
I cut off Sarsa's denial and affirmed. Why hide it? Nothing to hide (smug).
"Hate to break up the lovefest, but unpack quick and meet in the dining hall. Food's good here—expect it."
"Right away, Master."
Sarsa shook me off at lightspeed and started prepping. Grr.
The meal was pretty tasty, I think. Boar meat with some berry sauce thing—fancy.
Tasty, sure, but weird flavors I couldn't place. That's the vibe. High praise from the others, so I kept quiet.
Wiped down with a cloth and hit the hay. Elliott woke me for guard duty.
"..."
"...Hey."
"..."
Callwing glanced my way, then stared straight ahead in silence.
Of all people, him!
I gave up on chat quick, biting my cheek hard to stay awake. Surprisingly, he spoke first.
"...You did well today."
"Beh?!"
His sudden words startled a weird noise out of me.
"..."
"..."
"The rock dogs."
"Ah. Just luck."
"I was too far to see, but you used a magic tool?"
"Yeah. Kinda."
"Handled the mana output and trajectory cleverly, they say."
"...Something like that."
"You a specialist mercenary in magic tools?"
"Nah, not really. First time with a... magic blaster? Got excited, practiced a bunch."
"I see. But mana control ain't easy."
"Yeah."
"Adjusting output or curving shots is advanced. I'm no expert."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. You might have Mage talent."
"...Thanks."
"Bit late to hear at your age, huh."
"Yeah."
Normally starts at 5-10 years old. Late Mage debut's a tough road. Usually.
"Mage might be a stretch, but magic tool talent's valuable. Use it well."
"Yes."
Well, it's a magic gun, not a staff. Curving shots advanced? Means high Magic Gunner aptitude.
That makes me happy.
And Mage, huh... I swap to it in spare time, practice magic-ish stuff.
If this guy's right and I've got Mage talent, maybe main it?
Current status as follows.
Status View II, Status Manipulation, Job Addition II, Status Display Limit
Slash Slight Boost
Magic Shot Slight Boost
Subjugated: Sarsa
Magic Gunner leveled up; Defense, Agility, Magic Def rose.
Agility one more step to E. Half a year here, insane growth by local standards.
But E's common, so still weak mercenary. Gotta grind.
Callwing shut up after that; Sarsa was zipped-lip from the start beside me.
Wanna ask what they think of mercenaries dragging slaves, but could backfire. Won't poke.
Sarsa's reading the air, staying invisible. Good slave.
Heard later: We got Callwing 'cause he's the least trusted merc. Cavalry trusts him not to betray, so he watches us.
No shady stuff, so no trust lost... hopefully. Still lots I don't know about this world.
Morning, others woke; shifted watch, hit the john.
Awkward running into Callwing even there.
No morning service from Sarsa, naturally.
Rough morning.
Work's work.
"Sarsa~."
Snagged her post-ladies' room for scent and softness recharge.
Breakfast done, mount up soon—tense ride ahead.
Now or never for Sarsa refill.
"Oi, no hugging in the hall. Blocking."
"...Yes."
Callwing nudged us apart. Damn you, Callwing.
"Master, no time. Hurry and prep."
"Right."
Held hands to room as petty rebellion against dutiful Sarsa.
Packed personal stuff, helped load wagon, guard shifts—done.
Peddler lurking wagon; bared sword, he bolted. Getting used to this rough world.
"Alright, today and tomorrow are prime monster time. Skirting spawn points. Rock dogs yesterday—expect surprises. Stay sharp, everyone!"
Elliott's pre-departure pep to mercs.
All tense but composed. Me too, probably. Can't see my face.
"Don't zone out, Yoyo!"
Marie smacked my back. Sharp face not showing, huh.
"Sorry."
Position: Right of wagon, running parallel.
Eastward, traffic thickens, roads better.
Wagons left-side, right has space—but watch oncoming.
Monster-prone area today—priority monsters.
Fang dogs like yesterday, bird-types like kaikerados, subhumans. Night camp: Harpuadon, owl-like "night hunters." Cool nickname.
Can't lose to that—I'm building a harem night hunter (wink).
Cavalry set after Callwing pep; eastbound starts.
Detour wetlands—north gate out. Buy rice later? Bye, Hangulton.
"One headed your way—got it!?"
"On... it!"
Dismounted mid-leap, diagonal slash finished the subhuman.
Humanoid, smart—but weapon sucked.
Smashed stone-age sword head-on; one-sided.
Good start post-town.
Sun high, monsters active—scattered attacks.
Lotsa subhumans: Benbensta, scaly half-fish guys.
Like Slagee goblins, 3-5 packs; most scattered by lead cavalry.
3-4 packs hit: Halt, fight. Safer than ignoring.
Halts: 1-2 slip through to wagon—my job.
1v1, I hold... think. Weapon gap closed, who knows.
"Leave corpses! Press on!"
No time for benbensta magic stones; remount.
Stones tiny/rare anyway—not big loss.
Corpses attract carnivores; process later—dump in pit.
"Goblins!"
Minutes later, alert ahead.
Goblin hunt? Drew sword eager—side of road... not goblin? What?
"Benbensta...? Kinda."
Unlike humanoid benbensta: No neck, flat sideways body. Fish with legs, bipedal—wild look.
Skinny homemade wood spear, fishy glare.
Not tough-looking...
First sight: Cautious distance, shield counter-slash.
Shiny fish-scale skin soft—gashed deep.
"KIIIII!"
Fishman screeched; back two flinched.
Closed on first, snatched spear, hurled brute-force.
Ground fishman's eye gouged with sword tip. Good.
Fish 2/3 shredded by Marie's assault.
Brute-slashed chunks.
"What were those?"
Poked chunks with sword—no reaction. Dead proper.
"Huh? Heard ya? Goblins."
"Goblins...? Way different from Slagee's."
Marie lopped head quick, extracted tiny clear shard from neck bone.
"See? Clear. No attribute."
"No attribute..."
Fishman magic stone. Tiny, jagged, warped. Like Slagee goblin stones.
"Yeah... Subhuman monsters with small no-attribute stones are called goblins."
"Huh..."
Slagee goblins differed from fiction too: Hairy, ape-like.
Ugly faces, small humanoids, interbreeding info matched, so accepted as local goblins.
That was "Slagee-area goblin." Complicated naming.
"Heh, never left Slagee? Natural mistake. Lesson learned, wiser now."
"Yeah."
Teased, but spot-on—no retort. Need more world knowledge.
"Center docs said goblins here—these?"
"Yeah, probably. No spawn-point goblins nearby."
"Huh? Where from?"
"Wetlands natives. Benbensta too—naturally breeding."
Monsters everywhere here.
These goblins? Manageable solo. Reassuring.
"Yoyo-kun, done? Monsters slowing us—hurry."
"Ready, Elliott."
Fish goblins: Tiny warped stones, sometimes none—no profit. Buried shallow.
More fang dogs, benbensta, fish gobs; sun low, reached camp—open land.
Simple fences, some broken. Block monsters?
"Warrior Squad patches fences regular... but they break each time."
"For real...?"
Noted while lighting fires, positioning.
Central bonfire: Impromptu soup from scraps. Hot dinner tonight.
Lunch was rations on break—grateful.
"Watch shifts tonight?"
"You with Callwing again..."
"..."
"Pfft, kidding. Different pairs. Toughest spot—stay up, rotate short naps."
"Ah."
Tough. Been pushing since isekai, but constant sleep-deprived march hits hard.
If normal travel, no vacations. Mercenary touring for cash? Viable later.
My shift: Late, first nap. Quick tent, blanket in.
Thin blanket sleeping bag—cold.
But Sarsa pillow. Beckoned close, hugged under blanket. Warm.
Exhausted from days' march, lulled by her breath and heartbeat—drifted to dreams.