Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Encounter (2)
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Among the adventurers, she was the only one not holding a weapon. Even in this urgent situation, the girl kept her composure.
Even with your reason intact, halting the madness of battle isn't easy. Yet her bold, slightly prickly eloquence spread out like ripples from the lakeside.
Her appearance helped too. Neatly tied-back brown hair and golden pupils like molten gold leaf. Even standing before warriors two heads taller than her small frame, she showed no sign of intimidation.
"This is a place where even the slightest commotion draws magic beasts swarming in. What would clashing swords with total strangers get you anyway?"
Surprisingly, Vigo—who stuck closest to his instincts—lowered his sword first at her audacious, logical explanation.
"Fine."
"Really? Thank…"
"Save your excuses for hell."
"Urk! Miss, watch out!"
And he thrust forward immediately. There was no other choice. What the hell was she thinking, trying to talk with those civilized folk?
The only imperials they'd ever met were the soldiers atop the walls, bitter enemies for centuries, and the delegation Marquis Marcus had sent to drag me back.
Either way, a fight was inevitable, so they'd struck first without hesitation. It was sound judgment for a warrior.
The battle erupted with Vigo's preemptive strike. They were outnumbered by the seven adventurers, but all were warriors bearing three runes.
They wouldn't struggle much against foes mixed between silver and bronze ranks. More than that, unlike adventurers for whom battle was a job, battle was our life. The difference was clear.
"Tch, use magic!"
"These bastards won't back down."
"Stay behind us, miss. You might get hurt."
"…Haa."
But contrary to expectations, the fight dragged on evenly matched. Were they better than they looked? Adventurer badges only roughly classified ranks, so outliers weren't impossible.
As neither side showed signs of yielding to mere wounds, Harald—who'd been watching—gripped his weapon. I drew my new axe too, biding my moment.
One breath. The instant the archer nocked an arrow, the mage gathered mana amid labored breaths, and the frontline warrior backpedaled calling for aid. We seized the split-second gap, charging like lightning to land between the two lines.
"Wha…!?"
"Reinforcements?"
Sudden intrusion by hulking warriors. Their presence dwarfed the foes they'd just faced. The steppe alliance was stunned too.
Harald batted aside Helga's reflexive swing with his bare fist, leaving a minor cut on his knuckles as her blade snapped.
"How did you get he…!"
"Harald! Out of the way!"
"Enough. That's far enough."
"You too. Lower your weapons."
"…."
I locked eyes with the warrior who'd taken Vigo's earlier strike. He was the strongest among them. He'd only been wounded from the start protecting the girl called "miss," but at full strength, he could've held off both Vigo and Helga with ease.
Sensing the gap in skill, he signaled his comrades. The battlefield settled into a tense standoff. Amid the strain, he introduced himself. As expected, they were an adventurer party hired by the empire.
"Hoo, name's Kael. Silver-rank adventurer with the Shield of the Nine Heavens guild."
"Guild?"
"Call us the Kael Party. We mostly operate in small groups like this."
They'd given their names, so we should too. But I cut Harald off as he started to speak.
"I'm Stone…"
"We're the Raggedfoot Brothers of the Bailish Tribe."
"What…!?"
The reason for hiding my identity? I could guess the girl's true nature. And the one behind her.
Running into the prince consort candidate who'd slain the black dragon here wasn't part of their plan. So we needed to lure them deeper in. This spot was still too close to imperial borders.
"Ahem, yeah. Raggedfoot. I'm the older brother, he's the younger."
Harald switched attitudes seamlessly. Steppe folk weren't natural liars, but survival instincts were potent. Tell Olgen straight why he came home late every night with eight wives, and one more spit-roast skewer would join the lineup.
Kara chimed in irritably next. She'd already pieced it together from us tailing them.
"Yeah, you idiots. Sneaky bastards who twist people's guts."
"Ow, Kara."
"My feet hurt more! Your bones feel like iron chunks."
Seizing the moment, she kicked my shin. Karma being what it was, I took it quietly.
Vigo and Helga followed suit, avoiding my name. They trusted my plan absolutely, even without details. As introductions went around, it was finally the girl's turn.
"I'm Meb. Second daughter of the Goldline countess, running several merchant companies across the empire."
As expected, she was one of the people Serath had mentioned. Daughter of the current finance minister who dominated the capital. A noble lady from the original story too.
"You know the Imperial Edict of Isolation's been lifted, right? You're no longer barbarians outside the empire—you're people we can trade with."
Trade could mean many things, but money flowed first. Merchant. That's how she introduced herself.
"Where there's money to be made, folks like us show up first."
"Those with you are your guards?"
"Yes, all skilled. Caravans always hire mercenaries or adventurers for safety."
"Doesn't look like you brought anything to trade."
No wagons or goods in sight for a merchant caravan. At my question, Meb smiled brightly and pulled a small pouch from her bosom.
A sub-space pocket. Magical tools civilians in the empire could never afford in a lifetime—five of them emerged from her robe. Her casual cloak and jewelry were enchanted too.
"Everything I need's right here. Oh, not for trade, though."
"Then?"
"Gifts. Even the best market needs an open trade route first."
She'd come to pioneer new routes, she explained. The pouch held goods to win over locals.
"Perfect timing meeting you all. How about a little party?"
"Hm…."
"Aw, come on. You're camping anyway, right? Safer spot than this lake nearby? Let's stick together."
As Meb brought out booze and meat, the warriors' attention locked on. We needed another day here for the Horn of Purity anyway. The Kael Party would benefit from local tribe help crossing the canyon safely. Interests aligned. The dying campfire flared back to life.
"Pretty good."
"Not bad cooking."
"Right? I practiced this at home all the time. Praise me more."
"I'm sleeping. You lot eat or drink."
"Blankets here too."
"No need…"
"Warmer than it looks? Made from highland sheep wool—you'll sleep like a rock till morning."
"Ahh…!"
She had a knack for easing tension. Skirt fluttering as she darted about, the warriors' guards slowly melted. Her constant warm smile and mischievous air evoked a cat.
Merchant talent. Sharp info-gathering and observation too.
"So you two are from a nearby tribe?"
"Yeah. One's the strongest on the steppes."
"Weird~ I heard the black dragon slayer was the strongest… What was the name…?"
"Ivar. Great warrior born in Stonegar."
"Bad guy."
"Worse than that one you kicked earlier?"
"Equally bad."
"Aha, got it."
I watched her observe the others just as closely. Not out of special concern—just spotting one trait.
True to her intro, Meb was the finance minister's second daughter. And tightly bound to her eldest sister. Born with an unbreakable link.
"Ack…!"
"You okay, Meb?"
"Careful, miss."
"Thanks. Must've been a rock on the ground."
She tripped in a clear spot, as if shoved by some force. Still unresolved, then. Even in the original, it never got fixed till death.
Twin Souls. The term for twins born sharing the same fate in "Si-nim-mul."
Often mentioned in-story as rare cases sharing mana or knowledge. Meb and her sister too—they shared nearly all sensations.
A great hook in other genres, but alas, this was a romance fantasy.
Sharing senses? Tolerable. Sharing family power? Never.
So her sister had relentlessly tried killing her sibling. No matter the method, death's agony would rebound on herself—never easy.
After locking her in the mansion basement most her life, now shipping her to perilous northlands? Meant she'd finally found a way to end her sister.
"Not sleeping?"
Dawn. Meb approached lightly, having charmed the young warriors senseless. Firelit profile chosen to look her prettiest—she knew her angles. Outings restricted, but social debut happened under watchful eyes? Her warm personality outshone her sister in popularity there.
"Heard you're insanely strong. Even Kael over there, big name in the capital, couldn't twitch a finger."
Yeah, he'd made a name. No one would've pegged him silver-rank.
Couldn't let road-hardened sisters with tied fates die on her, so the eldest picked them carefully.
So why walk into this herself? Even ignorant of the plan, she could've guessed her endgame.
I checked surroundings. Sensing adventurers feigning sleep to eavesdrop, I asked her.
"You said merchant."
"Yes. Need anything? I'll give what I have. Not everything, though. Merchants chase profit."
"What'd you come to buy?"
"Huh?"
Merchants chased profit every day. So she'd want something from steppe tribes too.
"Well, one thing I wanna take back…"
"What?"
"The black dragon's corpse."
"Huh?"
She spilled freely—no state secret. But hearing it, I snapped the branch I'd been poking the fire with.
"Super rare stuff. Bones, hide, meat—especially the mana-soaked heart. Probably the great warrior's who got imperial treasure, right? Hoped to negotiate a piece."
"…."
"Oh, the treasure's coming too, by the way. Left the capital after us, so probably arriving via Shratma's Winterfall fortress?"
Hm… Sorry, but what now?
That's all digested already.