Remington Village
Lawrence had gone to Saint Dominic Monastery to seek instruction.
From this point on, he would be living as a pilgrim.
That meant he had to learn the minimum standard of dignity and state of mind expected of a cleric of the Order.
Still, Lawrence had been told that his case was unusual, and that he wouldn’t need to follow every rule the way an ordinary pilgrim would.
“When two or three gather in the Lady’s name, She is there with them. What matters isn’t the rule itself, but the heart that turns toward the Lady.”
Honestly, that was a relief.
He could imitate a devout cleric if he had to, but he would never become one.
He’d come to that conclusion long ago, back when he was staying at Saint Charmant Monastery.
Now it was time to work as a mercenary.
Lawrence fastened the black Holy Cross, the pilgrim’s token, onto his robe and headed down to Remington Village.
Apparently, the pilgrim’s token was normally a white Holy Cross.
The black one was reserved for a special kind of pilgrim.
Lawrence remembered what Ignatius had told him.
“I don’t know the details myself. It may sound impressive to call me the chief priest in charge of the monastery, but because we’re so far from the Holy See, we don’t have access to much information. The one thing I do know for certain is that an edict has been issued instructing us to offer every possible assistance to pilgrims who bear the black Holy Cross.”
Getting the black Holy Cross had been entirely thanks to Lenard.
Once he pulled on the robe issued by the monastery and went down, passing through the checkpoint was easy.
“Go on in, then.”
“May the Lady’s blessing be with you.”
It was a fresh reminder of the Order’s power.
The village looked much the same as it had from outside.
A dry stretch of land under the warm sun.
There was no paved road, let alone any trace of lush greenery.
The road carried neither too many travelers nor too few.
The handful of street vendors that existed were busy hiding from the heat in the shade.
Only the children seemed energetic in weather like this.
“The Four Covenant Knights are here!”
“Let’s drive the fools of the Minoette Empire back!”
Smiles bloomed on the faces of the children swinging wooden swords.
The place felt less like a village and more like a quiet rural hamlet.
Even though it was broad daylight, there were so few people around that it had to be a place few outsiders ever visited.
He was still thinking about the peaceful village when he finally reached the building he’d asked about several times along the way.
It had eight wooden legs supporting the structure.
Outside the wooden building sat a rocking chair.
A long sheet of cloth stretched out from the eaves to cast shade.
He could tell at a glance that it was meant as protection against the heat.
The Remington branch mercenary guild looked more like a private home.
There wasn’t even a sign announcing that it was a mercenary guild.
He couldn’t see a single mercenary loitering nearby, either.
Had he come to the wrong place?
No, it matched the building the villagers had described.
There wasn’t even another building nearby, so the chance of a mistake was slim to none.
Lawrence entered the building with cautious doubt.
The mercenary guild was sunk in a quiet stillness.
Under the faintly flickering lights, colorful liquor bottles glinted.
The old notice board was packed with requests.
A few mercenaries occupied the sparse seating.
Most were huge men in silence, lifting liquor and side dishes to their mouths.
They were so enormous that compared to him, each one looked nearly three times his size.
And there wasn’t just one of them.
Four or five sat across three tables, and even that made the room feel full.
They weren’t all male mercenaries, either.
Now and then, female mercenaries caught his eye as well.
The sun-browned skin on them suggested they’d lived in Remington Village for a long time.
The receptionist handling them seemed used to this atmosphere and silently polished an empty cup.
“Is this the Remington branch mercenary guild?”
“Does this look like a church to you?”
The question came back as a question.
The receptionist looked at Lawrence over the rim of the cup and frowned.
“If you’re a cleric, go to the monastery like one. This is a mercenary guild, not a place devoted to the Lady.”
His tone was purely businesslike.
It wasn’t hostility.
Lawrence could feel the guild’s general stance toward the Order in it.
“I’m not here as a cleric of the Order. I’m Lawrence, a Wood Plate mercenary.”
“A mercenary, are you? Then show me your plate.”
“I’m afraid I lost it. My name should be in the register, so I’d like you to check.”
“Hmm. Which branch did you register with?”
“The Redantus branch.”
“So you registered far from here. Hold on a moment; I’ll look it up.”
The receptionist’s hand moved quickly as he pulled the register from the desk.
“Redantus. Redantus... here it is. Wood Plate mercenary Lawrence. Confirmed. Incredible. I never thought I’d see a mercenary from the Order, of all things.”
“I have my reasons. I intend to keep working as a mercenary, too. There won’t be any disadvantages, will there?”
“A mercenary just has to complete requests properly. What would being affiliated with the Order have to do with it? Though I suppose not being able to kill people when the time comes would be a problem.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.”
He thought back to the unpleasant incident in Spider Forest.
The receptionist’s suspicious gaze lingered on him.
Then, without another word, he looked back down at the register.
“You’re even listed for an escort request to Horos Village. After that, your trail goes cold. Let me ask you something. How did you end up all the way in Remington Village, on the exact opposite side geographically, without taking a single request?”
It was the question he had expected.
He repeated the answer he’d prepared before coming to the guild.
“The pilgrimage road is a road of hardship. I’m not the only one doing my best to listen to the Lady’s voice.”
“Ah, so you were a pilgrim? Well, I’ve heard there are pilgrims who work as mercenaries. Must be rough on both sides.”
The receptionist scratched his head, looking embarrassed.
“I’d like to have my lost plate reissued.”
“Did you bring money? A Wood Plate costs twenty copper.”
“Could I pay later? After I finish a request...?”
“Forget it. You think I don’t know how tight a cleric’s purse is? I’ll give this to you as an apology for my rudeness.”
He took out a Wood Plate and engraved Lawrence’s name on it in no time.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing worth thanking me for. Although, I will be recording your affiliation with the Order as a special note in your file. Keep that in mind.”
“A special note?”
“It’s unusual for a cleric of the Order to work as a mercenary, isn’t it? At the very least, you’re the first cleric I’ve ever seen listed here as a mercenary.”
The boy nodded quietly.
“There won’t be any disadvantages, so you can relax. If anything, it’ll help you as a mercenary.”
“Then I suppose the register has to be rewritten.”
“Something like that. Do you have anything else you want changed?”
The receptionist took out a wooden tablet and looked up at Lawrence.
“You’ll give it to me?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
He rewrote the tablet he had filled out back in Redantus Village.
The first thing to fix was his age.
He corrected the age he’d padded by five years and also added that he was a pilgrim of the Holy Cross Order.
And this time, he disclosed the most important part: that he was a mage.
After receiving the tablet, the receptionist reviewed the contents one by one, until his gaze stopped on the word mage.
“A mage?”
At that expression of disbelief, Lawrence opened his mouth.
“Fire.”
A small flame blossomed in his palm.
The receptionist startled so badly he stumbled backward along with his chair.
“G-good heavens. A real mage... Is this some miracle of the Order or something?”
“I’m not very familiar with miracles myself, but this is the first time I’ve heard of fire being considered one.”
“Truth be told, neither have I.”
In other words, he had been so shocked he’d said the first thing that came to mind.
Lawrence moved his hand.
At his will, the flame drifted through the guild interior.
He wasn’t the only one who had their eyes stolen by Fire.
The mercenaries seated at the tables stared at it as if bewitched.
Maybe he should show off a little?
Lawrence focused on controlling the flame.
The principle was similar to handling Shadow.
It wasn’t just that the fire was moving.
The shape of the flame began to change according to the boy’s intent.
The first form he made was a cross.
The symbol of the Holy Cross Order. Since it was just two intersecting lines, it wasn’t hard to create.
Next came a circle of fire.
At first it took the shape of a sun with its center filled.
Then he erased the fire inside, leaving only a ring.
He had made it while thinking of Shadow Light.
But it was actually harder to erase one part of the flame while keeping another intact.
Feeling a faint pain rising in his chest, Lawrence drew Fire back in.
“Ah...”
Regretful noises rose around him.
It seemed the mercenaries had been just as focused on the shapes the fire made as Lawrence had been on the magic itself.
“That was incredible!”
The receptionist clapped his hands with such enthusiasm that the sound rang out sharply.
As if drawn by that noise, the mercenaries seated inside also began to applaud.
Between the whistles that rose here and there, he could hear people saying they’d seen something good.
“Could I take a look at what requests are available now?”
“Of course. A request suited to a mage... This is the first time, so I’m not quite sure what to recommend.”
After scanning the list of requests quickly, he said, “Do you happen to know Ulbaniero? They’re warriors of the swamp. There happens to be a vacancy in an escort request for Mu Polla, leaving tonight. It’s a long-term request, likely to take over two months. There are sometimes encounters with Bugbears as well. What do you think?”
Bugbear.
So that was why the creature’s name hadn’t come up yet.
“That sounds interesting.”
It looked like this would be a long conversation.
Lawrence sat down in front of the counter and folded his hands.
“There are twenty mercenaries assigned to this request. The job is to travel as a group while escorting Ulbaniero and their herd. Normally, it only goes to Bronze Plate rank and above, but considering that you’re a pilgrim of the Order and a mage, we’ll make an exception so you can take it as well. Of course, the pay will be the same as a Bronze Plate mercenary’s.”
He checked the request sheet the receptionist handed him.
His eyes changed the moment he saw the amount promised as payment.
Thirty silver.
Considering that the payment Lionel had given him when they arrived at Horos Village had been three silver, it was ten times as much.
But that didn’t mean it was a request he could agree to lightly.
“A request period of over two months... That’s pretty long.”
“If you include the return trip after reaching Randal Ranch, it’ll take even longer. Still, all travel expenses, including food during the request, will be covered by the client. They’ll also provide a carriage as transportation, so the journey itself shouldn’t be too bad.”
Lawrence rested his chin on his hand.
The conditions weren’t bad.
Being able to leave tonight was also a plus.
What still gave him pause, though, were the twenty mercenaries.
He remembered what had happened in Spider Forest.
Could he really trust his back to a group of people who cared about nothing but money?
How could he possibly be certain they wouldn’t drive a knife into his back when things turned ugly?
And yet, before long, the boy steeled himself.
Mercenaries were still people, and people varied.
He thought back to the first time he had faced a Forest Spider.
Mercenaries, too, were bound together by mutual support, and at the very least, once they had accepted the same request, they wouldn’t go around harming the client.
He couldn’t keep dodging forever.
As long as he worked as a mercenary, dealing with them would be part of everyday life.
In fact, this might be a good opportunity.
From now on, Lawrence would work openly as a mage.
With the Order at his back, it might actually be safer to move with confidence.
The boy thought of it as his first step forward as a mage.
“I’ll take the request you mentioned.”
“Good choice. Let’s see... The party with the vacancy is led by a Silver Plate mercenary named Balik. He’s quite reliable, so you don’t need to worry about the group.”
At Lawrence’s answer, the receptionist smiled in satisfaction.
* * *
Night fell over the Ulbazar Swamp.
The appalling heat finally eased somewhat.
He was still wearing his robe, so the heat hadn’t entirely left, but compared to the daytime, it was no longer unbearable.
Ironically, it was only after darkness settled that Remington Village began to show any sign of life.
He hadn’t realized it before.
The Ulbazar Swamp seemed to reverse day and night because of its brutally hot weather.
In other words, the village hadn’t been empty because there were few people—only because it hadn’t yet been time for them to be active.
Smoke rose from all over the village.
Residents gathered in clusters around braziers, burning herbs.
The smoke from the chimneys wrapped around the whole village like a giant cloud.
Lawrence frowned, covering his nose and mouth.
He didn’t know what kind of herb it was, but the smell was sharp and unpleasant.
His eyes stung too, and tears kept welling up.
And this was even when he was standing far from the brazier.
The villagers who worked while relying on a single thin cloth to shield themselves struck him as remarkable.
Even after night fell, the evening scenery was relatively bright.
It wasn’t because of the moonlight.
The swamp nights weren’t nearly as dark as those elsewhere, since their days were so long.
Maybe that was why?
He couldn’t see anyone using fire to chase off the dark.
The people moving through the streets carried long poles.
At the top of each pole, which rose above their height, hung a lantern filled with light.
He found himself curious about it again.
There was still time before the appointed hour.
Lawrence headed toward a street vendor who was dealing in those poles.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Could I ask you something?”
“Nothing comes free. Pay up, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
So she was a dealer in information too, it seemed.
The old woman answered with a sly look on her face.
“It’s not really information. I’m just curious what that is.”
“What, you don’t know Kaizle? So this is your first time in the Ulbazar Swamp, then.”
“Kaizle?”
“An insect that lives in the swamp. Its rear end contains a glowing fluid. People catch them and use them instead of fire. They’re just like fireflies, really. If you’re planning on going out into the swamp, buy a few.”
The old woman pulled out a box sitting at her feet.
However many Kaizle she had trapped inside, the steady buzzing of winged insects never stopped.
“Can’t you just light a fire? This seems far too inconvenient...”
No matter how bright the Ulbazar Swamp nights were.
A few bugs like these could never drive away all the dark.
It was fine enough in the village, but outside was a different matter entirely.
Not being able to use both hands when necessary was a huge disadvantage.
And the pole wasn’t even small; it looked fairly large and heavy.
“Fire? That’s why country bumpkins can’t be trusted.”
The old woman clicked her tongue with disdain.
“When did you arrive in the Ulbazar Swamp? No, never mind. You don’t need to answer that. Judging by you, it must have been today or yesterday.”
“Lighting a fire causes some kind of problem, I take it.”
“Indeed. Lighting a fire in the swamp is suicide. The swamp’s masters won’t sit idly by. They’ll come looking for you in broad daylight, as if to make a point.”
“If you mean Bugbears, I’m not afraid of them.”
“Do you really think the masters of the swamp are just some bear-like brute? You know far too little. They’re nothing more than residents of the swamp, just like the rest of us.”
Her voice grew eerie.
With a cackling laugh, the old woman continued.
“The moment you light a fire, countless poisonous insects and foul things will come craving you. It’s not that the villagers can’t light fires. It’s that they choose not to. It’s true there isn’t much firewood worth burning, but more than anything, they know exactly how insane it would be.”
Lawrence’s face stiffened.
Could it be that creatures like the Forest Spiders were just as common here?
The insects he’d encountered in the swamp were the kind even he didn’t know by name.
The mere fact that there were insects venomous enough to poison people was horrifying.
“Do you understand now? Why you need to buy Kaizle?”
“How many do you take with you when you go into the swamp?”
“That depends on how long you’re staying out there. As you can see, once they start giving off light, they live for a day. Just one night, and then they die.”
“You wouldn’t be making trips into the swamp every single day, I imagine. So you’d bring a box with you, just like you’re keeping the Kaizle in now.”
“You’re a sharp one. That’s right. If you keep them in a box, they live a bit longer. You only take Kaizle out when you need them.”
If you buy now, I’ll give you the box cheap too, the old woman said with a grin.
“Is there no other substitute?”
“If you’re looking for a substitute for Kaizle, then only Lamael will do.”
“Lamael?”
“You don’t know Lamael either? That. The herb I’m burning over there.”
The old woman pointed to the brazier.
So the herb being burned in the brazier was called Lamael.
“Take a bundle with you. It’s cheaper than Kaizle, too. But be careful—if you don’t have any resistance to it, you might get poisoned.”
“......”
No wonder his eyes hurt.
“There you are.”
A rough voice came from behind him.
When Lawrence stood up, four mercenaries were looking at him.
Judging by their appearance, they were the same men the receptionist had introduced earlier that day.
He must have spent so long listening to the old woman that the appointed hour had already arrived.
“What is it? You know each other?”
“They’re my party.”
“Mercenaries, huh? You should’ve said so from the beginning. But why would you make a mercenary who just arrived in the swamp part of the group?”
“Because his skills are certain.”
“This kid?”
The old woman looked at Lawrence as though she couldn’t believe it.
By now, that reaction no longer seemed strange at all.
If he was going to show what he could do, now was the time.
Besides, the mercenaries were gathered here already.
“Fire.”
A small flame flared from the boy’s hand.
“A mage!”
The old woman’s eyes went wide.
“I’ll come back next time I need Kaizle.”
Lawrence withdrew the flame and walked off with the mercenaries.
* * *
“I’m Balik, a Silver Plate mercenary. For now, I’m leading this party.”
The giant with a massive shield on his back extended a hand.
Suddenly, he remembered something Lenard had once told him.
Even a Silver Plate was enough to be recognized as a proper mercenary, wasn’t it?
Lawrence took Balik’s hand.
It was as large and rough as the man himself.
“I’m Lawrence, a Wood Plate mercenary. As you can see...”
“A mage. I know.”
“So being a mage means the rank doesn’t matter much, then?”
“It matters. How many spells can you use? That one you used just now looked like the one we saw at the guild during the day.”
As if they had been waiting for this all along, the questions came pouring out.
The eyes of the companions who had pushed forward past their leader were sparkling.
Balik merely let out a small sigh.
He didn’t stop the others from looking so eager.
He wasn’t saying much, but he too seemed full of interest in the magic Lawrence used.
“I’ll show you my magic in a bit. Could you introduce yourselves first? We’re a party, after all. We should at least know each other’s names so we can call one another properly, shouldn’t we?”
The mercenaries looked a little sheepish at the boy’s calm response.
“I’m Garrick. Daggers are my specialty. Small fry are my bread and butter. On the other hand, I’m not much use when it comes to taking down big monsters.”
“He’s lying. Be careful with that one, Lawrence. He looks shady enough that he’s always carrying poison around. If we end up fighting, he might even poison your food.”
“You’re saying nothing but things that could get me wrongfully accused. Who’s poisoning whose food? I’d get burned alive by magic first.”
Garrick gave a shiver as though frightened.
“Do you use poison?”
“Hmm. There are a lot of poisonous insects around here in one way or another. So it’s relatively easy to get poison. The downside is that there are plenty of creatures with resistance to it, too.”
“So that’s what you meant when you said it doesn’t work well on big monsters.”
“Exactly. In the swamp, it’s a bit disappointing, but there’s nothing to be done. It works great elsewhere. Interested in poison? If so, I could teach you a little.”
Still, I’m not giving you any, Garrick added.
“I’m Ronan. I handle the front line together with Balik.”
“So you use a sword.”
“It’s the one I’m most used to.”
A sword...
If he hadn’t had magic, would Lawrence have devoted himself to a sword too?
Once this request was over and the pay came in, he would buy himself a spear first thing.
“I’m Isolde. A wildflower blooming among all these dreary men. Let me say this in advance: if you start thinking strange thoughts because I’m pretty, I won’t be happy. Got it?”
Pretty?
Lawrence tilted his head before he realized it.
No, she wasn’t ugly.
But it was hard to shake the sense that something about her was out of place.
The skin of a woman born in the Ulbazar Swamp held a healthy brown sheen.
He didn’t know what counted as beauty in the swamp, but the older sisters he’d lived with at the monastery were much prettier.
And if he thought about the neighbors he’d seen in the Spirit World as well, she still didn’t strike him as especially beautiful.