Operations Commence
At the appearance of Branch Leader Padec, the air inside the meeting room turned ice-cold in an instant.
The mercenaries who had been noisily chattering clamped their mouths shut and rose from their seats at once. Gone was the freewheeling look of hired swords; in its place stood the rigid discipline of a proper army.
"Branch Leader, you've arrived!"
"Everyone sit. We begin the meeting at once."
"Yes, sir!"
Around the large wooden table Padec took the seat of honor, with the mercenaries facing one another along both sides.
"As you've already heard, a request for support has come from Wolf Tail Hill. Two of the nearby villages have already been hit by orc raids. The livestock were all slaughtered and eaten, and the death toll has climbed past ten. The survivors fled to the surrounding villages, but no one knows when the orcs will strike those places next. It's the height of the sowing season, yet they can't work the fields at all."
"What do the hunters who stayed in those villages say?"
"Nothing unusual, according to them. The problem is sheer numbers—they're simply overwhelmed. After each raid the orcs vanish for about three days, then reappear."
"That's strange. Orcs from the Wolf Forest almost never cross the hill, do they?"
"I don't know that far either. We'll have to go and see for ourselves. The purpose of this expedition isn't merely to wipe out the orcs. In the end we will enter the Wolf Forest and determine the root cause."
"Then how many men do you intend to send…?"
"Baron Greenhilt has promised us every scrap of loot taken during the campaign, plus additional hazard pay. We leave only the bare minimum to guard the branch building. Everyone else moves out."
"Ohhh!"
"What about coordination with Margrave Biswalt's troops?"
"This time we go alone. Make thorough preparations. Assemble at the south gate before sunrise tomorrow. I'll personally handle the supply wagons together with the hunters from the stricken villages."
"Heh-heh. Been a while since I smelled blood."
"With that crude dagger of yours? Hahaha!"
"Silence! From this moment I will assign roles for the expedition and explain the details. First, Saltias, whose specialty is fire magic…"
The moment the fine points were settled, Padec strode straight out of the meeting room. The rest of the mercenaries followed in short order.
Galbert, who had been itching to show off the expensive dagger he had bought, smacked his lips in disappointment.
Damn it. I'll just have to prove the dagger in actual combat.
"Misha, where did you get that?"
Misha's cheeks were flushed a happy pink. The reason was simple.
"W-well… I received a gift."
"Eeeek—who? Who gave it to you?"
"My goodness, I'm so jealous. Our little Misha is finally of that age."
Behind the annex of the Greenhilt mansion the maids had gathered to wash the bedding together, and every eye now locked onto the youngest among them—Misha.
All of them were housemaids employed by the estate, ranging from sixteen-year-old Misha up to women in their mid-thirties. Those past forty had enough seniority to be excused from back-breaking labor like laundry day.
"It's not like that! I just received a present…"
"Oh, come now. Who in the world would be crazy enough to give away something that expensive for free? He clearly has feelings for you."
"Exactly, exactly. But you mustn't fall for that sort of thing too easily. A man has to be watched carefully over time."
The seniors' wild misunderstandings left Misha ready to burst with frustration. The person who had given her the earrings was indeed male—but he was only a five-year-old child. On top of that, he had made her swear never to say who the gift came from, so she could not even clear the air properly. It was maddening.
Still, she was not unhappy. Young as he was, the gift had come from a noble young master. It looked expensive, and the design suited her perfectly.
But I really shouldn't wear them inside the mansion…
Even now she was drawing this kind of attention; wearing them while working was out of the question. She had known it would turn out this way, yet when Roy handed her the earrings he had insisted she put them on at once, so she had been left with no choice.
Still… there's an eleven-year age gap…
Misha quickly shook her head. What on earth was she thinking? If anyone ever overheard that private thought she would rather bite her tongue and die.
Four days had passed since the baron left the mansion.
The moment sword practice ended, Geren turned to Roy.
"Young Master Roy, you must take this more seriously. As the baron himself has told you, House Greenhilt has long been renowned for its swordsmanship. No matter how gifted you may be in magic…"
Geren's interminable lecture began yet again. Roy nodded as if he understood, but his mind was already elsewhere.
"Roy, I'll help you."
Anna, whose hand wounds had finally healed, gripped a wooden practice sword for the first time in days.
"Anna, I'm tired."
"If you don't play with me today either… I'll tell Daddy everything when he comes back."
Anna's eyes suddenly welled up. Roy felt a headache coming on.
Ever since he had begun earning money through Marek, the list of things he needed to do had grown enormous. Geren's lessons, held at fixed hours, could not be skipped, and he still needed time to secretly combine materials and enchant the daggers. Because the entire secret business had to remain hidden from everyone in the mansion except Marek and Misha, extreme caution was required.
Of all possible threats, the greatest—and the one he had to watch most carefully—was none other than Anna. That girl appeared and vanished like a ghost; he had been startled more than once or twice. Once she had even chased him all the way to the hut, forcing him into an impromptu game of hide-and-seek.
"I'll give you candy."
"No."
Even sweets were starting to lose their power.
"Don't you have to practice magic by yourself?"
"Big sister will teach you swordsmanship, and you teach me magic."
"Haah… Fine. Then I'll teach you a new spell. Practice it until you can use it perfectly. That's your homework."
Roy's eyes met Geren's, who had been watching the two of them. He put on a pitiful expression—an unspoken request for permission: Anna's being a nuisance, so I'm going to palm her off with a difficult spell. Is that all right? Geren was still the teacher, after all.
Geren answered with a look that clearly said, Nothing dangerous like fire magic, absolutely not.
Roy nodded. The entire exchange had taken place with nothing but their eyes, yet somehow the communication was flawless.
Having received the go-ahead, Roy chose a spell for Anna: something safe, yet advanced enough to keep her occupied for a good while. It also had to be basic enough that using knowledge from his previous life would not raise suspicions.
This is hard.
In the end the spell he taught her was Psychic Bind, an applied technique from the psychic school. It was a form of telekinetic magic that used mana to restrain an opponent's movements. A target caught in Psychic Bind became as helpless as if bound head-to-toe in rope—ideal for subduing someone of equal or lesser magical power without spilling blood. For a complete beginner, however, it was among the most difficult spells to control.
"What? That's way too hard. Can you even use it?"
Roy cast it on the spot and locked Anna's limbs in place. When her arms suddenly refused to move she thrashed in panic, but he released the spell at once. Geren, watching from the side, hurriedly caught her before the rebound sent her sprawling.
"See? Practice until you can do it like me. Then I'll play with you."
Anna could only pant in frustration, while Geren stared at Roy as though looking at a monster. Roy simply shrugged, wordlessly claiming he had had no choice.
"Haah… At this rate, Young Master Roy, I believe there is nothing more I can teach you in the field of magic."
Roy quietly agreed in his heart.
Of course. You're nowhere near good enough to teach me.
"What are you saying? Thanks to you, Teacher, I've learned so many spells in just a single week."
"Yes… well…"
Watching Geren's bitter expression, Roy offered a wry smile of his own.
Just then Marek appeared through the rear door of the main building. Judging by the bright look on his face, the latest transaction had gone quite satisfactorily.
Right then. Time to go tally up how much we made today.
Once the lesson ended, Geren and Anna went inside the mansion. Only Marek and Roy remained in the center of the training ground.
Too many ears listened indoors; the open-air training yard was actually far better suited for confidential conversation.
"Well then—how did this deal go?"
Both Roy and Marek looked at each other as if they owned the world.
"I sold the five silver-coin daggers for one gold coin apiece."
"Oh! You doubled the price. What did the weapon-shop owner say?"
"Nothing. He looked terrified that one wrong word might cut him out of future business. Seeing that not a single dagger from yesterday remained on the shelves, I expect they all sold."
"Hoh…"
Roy smiled along with Marek, who was proudly recounting how high he had pushed the price.
He's already become a proper merchant.
The man was a completely different person from the day they first met.
"Monster activity has been rising throughout the territory lately, so demand seems higher than expected."
"Monsters?"
"Ah, no need to worry. The area around the estate itself is safe. This is happening near the border."
"I'm not worried. I'm asking because I see it as an opportunity."
"Pardon?"
Frequent monster appearances meant fresh materials would be easier to obtain. The orc blood they had been acquiring lately had been losing its freshness, which had been a constant headache. Now, at last, he might be able to brew a decent aqueous solution.