Sheryl Tusin Ogatorf
Sheryl Tusin Ogatorf
The soldiers at the encampment didn't approach us.
They merely watched the adventurers getting off the wagon from a distance, muttering among themselves, and didn't move a muscle even as we followed the guide, received simple instructions, and stood in a single horizontal line facing the forest.
"Hey, guide. Who are those men?"
I asked the man who had ordered us to stand neatly in line and was checking the spacing between us as we moved, and received only a curt answer.
"Can't you tell by looking? They're the farm owner's private soldiers, on guard against bandits."
"Looks like they're ready for a war."
"To them, it's no different from a war to defend their farm. Just focus."
Maybe because we naturally fell into formation with military precision, he left it at that and kept moving down the line, demanding the same spacing from the other adventurers. He wasn't exactly hurrying, but he wasn't relaxed either. Something about the pressure in his tone reminded me of a drill instructor deliberately trying to keep recruits from thinking about anything else.
"What does it even mean to line up sixty people in one row like this?"
"Could it be that the commission wasn't actually bandit extermination but finding a needle in the forest?"
"Looking at this mess, that seems plausible."
Of course, neither of us entertained that possibility for a second. Without any need to say so, we both remained as tense as possible, glaring at the forest, and not long after, the guide, who had lined us all up, shouted in a loud voice.
"The request itself is basically what you already know! The only addition is that you'll run from here to the forest edge in this formation! Anyone who breaks formation or runs away forfeits their pay!"
But what actually came out of his mouth wasn't a speech, it was bullshit. Without me even needing to point it out, the adventurers started grumbling instantly.
"Stop your bullshit! We'll only do what's stated in the contract!"
"Cut the bullshit. You think we're idiots? Who knows what could come flying out of that forest, and you want us pulling this stunt?!"
"There wasn't even a chain of command in the contract. You should be grateful we lined up at all, and now you're giving us shit about how we run too, guide?"
"Unlike you, we mastered walking ages ago, so if you want to see us stumble around like idiots, pay more!"
That reaction was perfectly natural. Even if adventuring around the capital was relatively safe, they were still adventurers. Ask people who risked their lives for pocket change to do more than the contract required and this was exactly what happened.
When I looked at the guide, thinking he'd be flustered by the unexpectedly fierce reaction, he wasn't flustered at all—he was wearing a meaningful smile.
"Fine! I'll give an extra reward of two silver coins to those who advance boldly!"
At that decision, which sounded like he'd been waiting for it, Sheryl and I glanced at each other without needing to say who went first.
"That's it!"
"So he's a man who knows how to handle people!"
Unlike the adventurers who cheered and laughed fiercely, what we felt was an intense foreboding of being utterly fucked.
An inefficient show of force? An army could do it. Proper soldiers in armor with shields could shrug off ordinary archery, so they wouldn't even need to run—they could advance at a walk. There were even plenty of higher-ranked adventurers who could manage something like that, so if they'd simply spent more money, they could've settled the problem decisively. But nobody sane would line up only sixty Green-rank adventurers on open ground in front of enemies hidden in a forest, then make them charge while perfectly good private soldiers waited behind them. As far as I could see, that left three possibilities.
Either the bandits were such complete idiots they couldn't do anything about this, whoever held command on our side was an idiot, or the whole thing was a blatantly rigged setup where the ones being wiped out weren't the bandits but the adventurers.
First, since this was a secondary request, the first option was out. Secondary requests arose because small parties had failed multiple times. I didn't know how strong they were, but they clearly had some skill.
The second possibility was murkier. If the guide had command authority, his strange behavior made him look less like an idiot and more like a scheming bastard. And if the real commander was inside the noble's private-soldier camp, an actual fool would probably have come out to watch the results of his proudly idiotic tactics.
The third was pure instinct. Looking at a situation this nonsensical, I couldn't shake the feeling we'd been turned into moving targets at a shooting range.
"Eldmia."
"Yeah. Go ahead."
"Compared to the camp's size, there are too few people remaining."
Why were shitty premonitions so rarely wrong? I frowned without realizing it and studied the ground between us and the forest. Before long I found tracks left by far too many people moving at roughly the same intervals.
The long trail of footprints into the forest also showed similar groups returning toward the camp. I wanted to believe they were merely search-party tracks—that the noble's soldiers had tried and failed to subdue the bandits before hiring adventurers—but that was obviously wishful thinking. There was no way trained private soldiers were less capable than Green-rank adventurers.
"Is there some lunatic behind this who just leaves you speechless?"
"We'll only be sure once we've run into the forest."
My brain was struggling to accept the situation, but that sure as hell wasn't my fault. Was the conclusion I was reaching really correct? Did this make any fucking sense?
Someone was deceiving the guild and adventurers so their private soldiers could get live combat experience, killing parties who had no idea what was happening? I tried to think it through while mentally distancing myself from the adventurers around me who were yelling themselves into a frenzy, but I couldn't find another answer. Sure, if nobody found out they'd get away with it—but there's no way something this blatant stays hidden, right?
Even Sheryl, who sat near the very top of the kingdom's nobility, was grinding her teeth at the insanity we were imagining. She'd stopped watching the forest and was staring at the camp, deep in thought—probably weighing whether to continue or withdraw. I looked around just in case, but the knight supposedly guarding her still hadn't shown himself.
Didn't they say a lion pushes its cubs off a cliff? Of course, real lions never do such eccentric things, but the lion named Ekaf might surprisingly have no qualms about it. He was a man who clearly distinguished between caring for his child and simply coddling her like a treasure.
"It's better to confirm with my own eyes than jump to conclusions."
True to form for that man's daughter, Sheryl reached a truly bold conclusion. It was perfectly logical, but I couldn't help being a little skeptical about risking her life on it.
"Your skills are good, but haven't you never tried dodging or batting away arrows coming at you?"
"Well, I said it could happen, not that it definitely would. And even if it did, I can manage some normal archery fire somehow. I don't think there'll be someone who can shoot arrows imbued with Mana."
"Such cocky confidence."
"That's rich coming from you."
Sheryl gave me a newly displeased look, and I tilted my head in question, but she didn't offer a specific answer. What? I'd never actually shown myself dodging or blocking arrows, so why was she saying that? I did think I could dodge if I had to, but I'd never let it show.
"Above all, my escort still hasn't appeared. Whoever they are, they must figure I can get through this situation on my own."
"Isn't it just that they believe you'll bail out on your own?"
"If it's too sudden for him to react, then my personal butler can just throw himself in front of it for me."
In the end I could only applaud: once for Sheryl, who didn't try to reveal her identity and leave even now; once for her vicious willingness to treat my life like something she could spend herself; and once for my own rotten luck in constantly getting dragged into irritating messes like this.
"Why are you suddenly clapping?"
"Because I can't help admiring your vicious personality..."
"Charge!"
The guide shouted as if my applause had been a signal flare, cutting off the conversation. Whether the other adventurers were stupid, carefree, or simply bold and confident in their skills, they charged toward the forest like mad for those two silver coins despite how suspicious everything was. Sheryl and I exchanged a look and sighed.
"At least we won't be the first to face any unexpected situations."
"Yeah, you're right."
We fell well behind the rest and decided to walk, watching the others sprint madly ahead.