Red Fist
A clearing a little way from the Mercenary Guild.
The gathering place for the commission was packed with wagons and people.
“All right, all right, we’ll be setting off soon. Everyone, just hang in there a little longer!”
“Take the blankets to the back! You there—watch your step, don’t drag them through the dirt!”
“The count doesn’t match, does it? You’re sure you brought everything out of the warehouse?”
The assembly point was a chaos of noise and motion.
Staff from the Mistra Merchant Company bustled about, issuing orders to anyone within earshot.
“Excuse me, we’re with the Mistra Merchant Company. If you’re not involved, could you please step outside for the moment? If horses start coming in here too, we won’t be able to handle it.”
Even in weather this cold, the employees were slick with sweat.
At the polite request, Lawrence took out his mercenary plate.
“I’m Lawrence, the mercenary assigned to escort duty today. Is Mr. Oswin inside?”
“Ah, you’re a mercenary? I’m sorry. It’s the first time I’ve seen one arrive on horseback, so I didn’t realize.”
The employee bowed his head, looking truly apologetic.
“The vice president is up near the front of the caravan. It may take a while before everything is wrapped up, so why don’t you wait where the other mercenaries are gathered?”
“Hmm… Understood. Then please just let him know I’m here. And if you could look after this fellow for a bit, I’d appreciate it.”
“Thank you for understanding. We’ll take care of the horse and bring it out when we’re ready to depart.”
After handing the horse over, Lawrence headed toward the rear of the caravan.
There, a cluster of mercenaries had gathered behind the wagons.
They huddled around a bonfire, warming their frozen bodies.
“……”
The mercenaries edged closer to the fire.
Their backs seemed to say they wouldn’t make room for any new rival.
But thanks to his Warm spell, this level of cold was nothing.
He had no intention of squeezing himself in among that pack of waterlogged rats.
Lawrence kept his distance from the mercenaries and pulled out his Telekinesis grimoire.
The noise around him didn’t matter.
Distraction like this wouldn’t break his concentration.
“There you are, Lawrence.”
When he looked up, Oswin was standing in front of him.
Lawrence closed the grimoire.
He was wearing that ridiculous mustache again today.
With a fox-fur scarf around his neck, he bowed deeply.
“I should have come myself. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“Not at all. I saw how busy you’ve been since morning. Once we’re ready, all we have to do is set out; the caravan doesn’t have that luxury, of course.”
When they clasped hands, there was only chill, no warmth at all.
“The schedule ended up running later than expected. We’d originally planned to get started a little earlier, but it was so cold we couldn’t get anything done. At this rate, I’m already worried about what the north will be like.”
“I hate the cold as much as anyone. No matter how hard it gets, heat is better.”
He was truly glad he’d learned Warm magic.
Oswin introduced the merchant company staff one by one.
They were the supervisors assigned to divide up the work for this expedition.
He didn’t seem to expect Lawrence to memorize their names individually.
It felt more like he wanted the staff to remember Lawrence’s face.
By the time Oswin had made a full circuit of the caravan, more mercenaries had arrived.
A staff member who noticed Oswin came over with two mercenaries in tow.
“Thank you for your hard work, Vice President.”
“Hard work? You’re the one doing the hard work here. Right. The people behind you are silver-plate mercenaries, I take it?”
“That’s correct. They’ve all arrived on time.”
“Good. Go and tidy up the line for me.”
The employee bowed and headed toward the front of the caravan.
Lawrence studied the two mercenaries.
The first was a white-haired man with a spear resting on his shoulder, its shaft thick enough to be mistaken for a club.
He was intimidating not only in build, but in sheer size.
While the other mercenaries were bundled in thick coats, he wore only a single robe over leather armor.
His skin was so pale it looked as though he had never once seen the sun.
Yet he didn’t seem sickly.
It was more that he was simply born with unusually fair skin.
The forearms visible between his sleeves were thick with muscle.
The other mercenary was a man with hair red as flame.
He wore fingerless half-gloves, and on his knuckles sat a set of red-streaked brass knuckles.
Several hatchets and swords hung at his waist.
Judging by the look of him, he didn’t appear to specialize in a single weapon.
He seemed the type with a wide enough range of arms to work with.
A mercenary who could handle himself in many different situations.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Oswin, vice president of the Mistra Merchant Company, and the one in charge of this expedition.”
“Vice president?”
“That’s a surprise. For a mere trade caravan, the vice president of the Mistra Merchant Company himself is coming along… Are you moving something dangerous or what?”
“A caravan is a caravan, with its own reasons. If my presence can show sincerity, then it’s the best bargain we could ask for.”
Money doesn’t fall from the sky, after all, Oswin said with the corners of his mouth lifting.
“The three of you here are the supervisors for this escort commission.”
He had heard that much in advance.
They’d said they were planning to hire two or three silver-plate mercenaries.
It seemed the budget hadn’t been especially generous, since they’d only brought in two.
“Three supervisors? That’s a nuisance.”
“I’m out. There’s no need for three people to do this.”
“Come now, at least hear me out. This caravan is large enough that putting the responsibility on a single person would be too great a risk.”
Oswin raised a hand and gestured toward the line.
From this place at the rear, he couldn’t even see all the wagons at once.
He could make out, at best, four of them.
And it wasn’t just a matter of wagons.
There were the cargo loads on them, and laborers taking their rest.
In addition to the mercenaries hired for the commission, company guards were also keeping watch around the perimeter.
“Hard to accept. We’re not the only ones here. The company guards aren’t exactly few in number either. Is there really any need for this?”
“They may make up the numbers, but compared to mercenaries, their skill leaves something to be desired. If the enemy were human, it’d be one thing. But against the monsters of the north, their limits become obvious.”
Oswin continued, “There are caravans that raise their own escort guards, of course. But our company isn’t at that level yet. That’s why we gathered all of you—because we’re entrusting this important role to you. Naturally, we’ll make sure any additional pay is worthwhile.”
“Now that’s an offer I like. Fine. How much more are you paying?”
“Each of you will receive an additional five gold pieces as a success bonus.”
For a moment, Lawrence wondered if he’d heard wrong.
He looked at Oswin without meaning to.
“Not bad. But not exactly generous, either.”
“We intend to buy up any monster remains you recover along the way. We’ll pay market price for them, so depending on the situation, there may be some nice extra profit to be made from the byproducts.”
“……”
The spear-wielding mercenary fell silent.
“If you’re buying everything, even the remains, that’s something to be grateful for. I’d imagine the other mercenaries would welcome terms like that too.”
The red-haired mercenary spoke with cheerful ease.
“...Fine. I accept.”
“That settles it for the two of us. What about you?”
“With conditions like these, there’s no reason to refuse.”
The agreement solidified quickly.
Oswin’s expression lightened at once.
“Thank you for accepting our proposal. The reward will be paid once the caravan reaches its destination safely. I’d like the three of you to divide the route and take responsibility for your own sections.”
The basic policy was similar to the escort work Lawrence had taken on with the Black Rose Merchant Company.
The vanguard would be handled by the mercenary assigned to the escort commission, and if the mercenaries couldn’t contain a threat, the guards would lend support.
Above all else, the cargo on the wagons came first.
Oswin asked that, unless the situation was truly urgent, they avoid using the guards as much as possible.
The other mercenaries didn’t seem to care much about that point.
They’d agreed to buy the monster remains from the company.
If the guards killed a monster, then the ownership of its remains would belong to the company rather than the mercenaries, so there was no need to keep adding unnecessary mouths to the arrangement.
After the discussion was over, Oswin took his leave.
That left only the three mercenaries who had been given supervisory authority.
Strangely enough, once the client disappeared, an awkward silence settled over them.
The spear-wielding mercenary closed his eyes.
The red-haired mercenary toyed with his brass knuckles.
There was no sign of any cooperation between them at all.
“We’re partners on this commission now. Shouldn’t we at least introduce ourselves first?”
A sigh answered him.
The mercenary, who looked irritated already, opened one eye and said, “You don’t know who I am?”
“No, I don’t.”
“……”
The red-haired mercenary burst out laughing.
Looking annoyed, the other man frowned.
“Silver-plate mercenary. I’m White Hunter Singh.”
“White Hunter?”
Singh pointed at his own hair as if that explained everything.
“It’s white, so White. Simple enough.”
“……”
His mouth twisted.
“And who are you?”
“Wait. By order of operations, I should be the one to go first.”
The red-haired mercenary cut in.
“No need. Any mercenary who sees those knuckles would know who you are. Wouldn’t they? Red Fist Sidra.”
“Well now. Being too famous is a problem too.”
Red Fist Sidra?
Somehow, the name rang a bell.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
The two mercenaries were both looking at Lawrence now.
“I’m Lawrence, a bronze-plate mercenary.”
“Bronze-plate?”
Singh’s face darkened, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.
“I’m commonly known as the Shadow Mage.”
“The Shadow Mage!”
Singh raised his voice in surprise.
“The Shadow Mage… I see. No wonder you looked familiar. Didn’t you once help exterminate a Forest Spider in Horos Village?”
At those words, an old memory came rushing back.
Horos Village.
The Forest Spider in Spider Forest.
The red-haired mercenary.
That’s right. The mercenary he’d seen then had been Sidra.
“Yes. I remember now too. Red Fist Sidra. But I don’t think you introduced yourself as a silver-plate mercenary back then….”
“Why would I have to say that outright? Isn’t it common sense that if a mercenary has a nickname, he’s at least a silver-plate with some bite to him?”
Sidra looked genuinely baffled.
“And a bronze-plate, too? That’s really a surprise. I’d heard the name Shadow Mage here and there, but I naturally assumed you were silver-plate.”
“I haven’t taken all that many commissions.”
“Well, your outfit makes it easy enough to guess.”
The black sacred cross swaying from his neck, the black vestment that marked him as a cleric of the Order—when Singh saw it, he shrugged.
“No surprise a mage didn’t just drop from the sky. A mage from the Order, huh… Can you use miracles too?”
“Miracles aren’t something just anyone can use.”
“Then magic is something just anyone can use?”
“If that were true, there’d be no reason for the two of you to be surprised by me.”
At his dry answer, Sidra laughed aloud.
“So that’s how the mage sees it. What about you?”
“There’s no mercenary who’d take issue with a mage serving as supervisor.”
Singh’s voice had softened somewhat.
He uncrossed his arms and held out a hand to Lawrence.
“I’ve heard plenty about the Shadow Mage. Good to meet you.”
“That’s my line. I look forward to working with you.”
Their handshake was as hard as gripping steel.
* * *
The caravan finally set out after lunch.
Because of its size, there had been all kinds of things to check and settle.
From inspecting the cargo to arranging it properly, and then verifying the personnel one by one, the departure time had kept getting pushed back.
Even so, once they were actually on the road, the caravan picked up speed with refreshing force.
They didn’t lose any time at the checkpoint, either.
It seemed the company had already taken care of things; a simple nod to the gatekeeper was enough to get the caravan through and out of the city.
Lawrence gently nudged the horse’s belly with his heel.
The animal, excited by the world outside, gave a light snort.
Its pace gradually slowed, and as a result Lawrence naturally fell back from the front of the line.
Singh would handle the vanguard of the caravan.
Sidra would take the rear.
For once, there were three people sharing responsibility.
There was no reason for them all to hover over the same spot.
Lawrence decided to move back and forth between the front and rear as needed.
It was a choice that made sense, both for his skill and for the mobility granted by the horse.
Besides, the caravan line was so long that if something happened at the rear, the front couldn’t respond immediately anyway.
Among the mercenaries, Lawrence was the only one who could move freely on horseback.
He would have to part with the horse once they reached Winterglen, but until then, he thought it should be able to lend him enough help.
Seated on horseback, Lawrence stroked the horse’s mane.
Thanks to the Warm spell cast over the saddle, the horse looked to be in excellent condition.
Please let this commission pass without incident too.
Imagining the north he had yet to see, Lawrence urged the horse onward.
—