El Sion 3
The procession passed through the north gate and veered straight into the Noren Mountains. The road wasn't well-paved, but the absence of obstacles along the way was enough.
The carriage carrying Licht belonged to the caravan leader. It stood out from the mercenaries' wagons—on par with what a low-ranking noble might use. Even Aila had no complaints about it.
"This is my son, Rein. He's tagging along on this trading trip to gain some experience."
At Rex's introduction, a boy about Licht's age bowed politely. His cheeks bulged as if ready to burst, and his clothes strained against his plump frame. Anyone could see that Rex and Rein were father and son.
Licht knew it the moment he climbed aboard. He could spot them from a distance. They embodied the stereotypical merchant look in his mind. He reflexively thought of Melberk and shook his head inwardly.
"I'm Rein. Please take good care of me on this trip to El Sion!"
His stiff voice boomed unnecessarily loud. His eyes darted shakily toward Aila beneath her hood. He thought he was being subtle, but it was obvious. When she offered a small smile, his already flushed cheeks burned even brighter, threatening to explode.
The age when a boy fixates on romance. Her robe, half-hiding her face, couldn't dim her beauty. The faint blue eyes shining through the shadows, paired with her silver hair, added an air of mystery.
"Ahem, ahem!"
Rex cleared his throat after glancing at his son. Only then did Rein snap out of it, clamping his mouth shut and lowering his gaze.
This kid's in for a rough time, Licht thought, fully understanding the reaction. The boy wouldn't sleep well for a while. Licht knew Aila had smiled on purpose.
"Now that we've introduced ourselves..."
Rex, seated opposite, got down to business.
"If it's not too rude, might I ask your names?"
His attitude had shifted completely from earlier. Licht turned to Aila, signaling with his eyes: alias or real name? Rex clearly didn't know her identity, judging by his reaction. The pure white robe and hexagram insignia were blatant. Any caravan based in El Sion would recognize them. In El Sion itself, plenty would spot her on sight.
Rex, sensing their hesitation, added, "Ah, if it's inconvenient, no need to say."
"You haven't been operating in this area long, have you?"
"Pardon?"
The procession wasn't large. Major caravans wouldn't send their leader on a small run like this. It was middling—not too small, not too big. If they were new to trading around El Sion, it made sense they wouldn't recognize Aila.
Rex's face soured. Licht had answered a question aimed at Aila. He'd pegged Licht as a mere attendant, so this must feel absurd.
Rex had hired them for Aila's Barte's robe. He undoubtedly saw Licht as a greenhorn without even awakened aura.
His gaze flicked to Aila for a moment, but with her silent, he finally spoke again. "Well... yes, we haven't been trading around here long."
"I see."
"El Sion and its surroundings are more convenient than other regions, that's true."
"What do you mainly trade?"
"Ah, we have a few left. Shall I show you?"
Rein pulled some items from the corner of the carriage: magic-related books and magic tools. Common stuff in El Sion.
Rein added by way of explanation, "Basic Circle Magic texts and glowing magic tools that light up when you channel mana. Beginners use them a lot, so demand is high."
"You know your stuff."
"P-Pardon? No, it's just basic knowledge..."
Aila's words made Rein blush. He ducked his head, scratching it awkwardly, prompting Rex to let out a long sigh.
"Anyway, about this escort job."
He steered the conversation. "We usually pay mercenaries based on their level. If you don't mind, what are your ranks?"
It was rude, but not wrong. He'd been sizing them up since earlier.
"If I'm right, the mage from Barte's seems 4th Circle... right?"
"4th Circle... yes, that's correct."
She answered after a brief pause.
"And your companion?"
"He's a knight."
"A knight?"
Rex's eyes went to Licht's waist.
"Have you been formally knighted?"
"No."
"Then..."
"Sword User. He won't hold you back, so don't worry."
"Sword User?"
Aila answered. Rex's skeptical expression turned to outright doubt.
He doesn't buy it.
And why would he? Unlike Aila, Licht had nothing to prove it. Even without Rex, no one would take his word at face value.
But he was a merchant. In a flash, Rex composed himself.
"A 4th Circle mage and a Sword User... fine. 1 gold 50 silver per day, 3 gold for two days. Sound good?"
Aila glanced at Licht. Not knowing the rates, she deferred with her eyes.
He's discounting me.
A Sword User and 4th Circle mage warranted at least 2 gold a day. 1 gold 50 silver meant he valued Licht below Sword Runner.
Fine by me.
Even if she were truly 5th Circle and Licht an Expert or higher, they'd be hard-pressed to believe it. This was reasonably fair—better than expected. From Rex's view, paying over 1 gold to a boy with nothing to show, even with a Barte's mage vouching, was tough.
Licht nodded silently, and Aila gave a small nod back.
"Then it's settled: 3 gold total for the escort. Now, about this trading run..."
Rex then rattled off details about the Noren Mountains' terrain and the bandit groups lurking there. Licht, uninterested, gazed out the window. Towering trees whipped past.
***
A day passed, and they entered the second. The procession proceeded smoothly, unhindered.
They traveled through midday, stopping to camp as dusk fell. People gathered around several campfires.
"How is it? To your taste?"
"Yes, delicious."
"You've eaten everything without complaint, just like yesterday."
"True. I was worried you might skip the first day's meal."
Rein spoke up. The second night, they ate the same as before: soft bread with yeast, hearty stew packed with quality jerky.
Aila was far more unpretentious than Licht expected. He'd noticed when she bought street food, but she had no qualms about this fare.
Then why that time?
He recalled the annex incident but dismissed it. Pointless now.
Rex provided many comforts. A regular wagon would've been far worse. Separate from the escort fee, it was generous treatment—testament to Barte's prestige.
"Phew... good thing nothing's happened so far. Guess it was just my worry."
"We arrive tomorrow afternoon?"
"Yes. We're nearly through the Noren Mountains, so late afternoon tomorrow in El Sion."
Four sat by the campfire before Licht, including himself. Aila chatted effortlessly with them. Licht stayed silent—not sociable by nature, and seeing no need for small talk.
As Rein excitedly spilled trading tales, Aila spoke up. "Young master, you're quite knowledgeable for someone your age—around mine."
"Y-Young master!"
Her words made the boy clutch his chest, face crimson. A noble Barte's lady using deferential terms must have his heart racing.
Bad case.
Worse hangover than thought. As Licht eyed Rein pityingly and chewed his bread, a voice cut in.
"Hey, caravan boss. Mind if I join?"
A man approached from the mercenaries. Shaggy, unkempt hair. One of the Sword Runners Rex had mentioned. A long greatsword on his back, his trained build and scars screamed veteran mercenary.
"Jack."
"Heh, don't mind if I do."
Rex named him, but he ignored it, sitting naturally. Rex just furrowed his brow, saying nothing. Probably the mercenaries' leader.
He spoke. "Barte's noble lady. You ain't uncomfortable or nothin', right?"
"No, it's fine."
"Good. Been wantin' to chat. I dreamed of bein' a mage as a kid."
He knew Aila. Normal for a seasoned local mercenary.
"Uncle Jack, you wanted to be a mage?"
Rein asked. They knew each other, by his tone.
"Yeah, I dreamed of it once."
"Never knew."
"Didn't I mention? Everyone's got dreams. Mages who summon mountain-sized flames with a gesture, flip the earth upside down. Now I just swing a blade for a living."
Jack poked a branch into the fire. "As you know, magic needs money. My family was dirt poor—barely ate. Dreams high, reality a sewer. What can a broke kid do?"
He chuckled wryly at the end. "Thought I'd ditched it all, but seein' you stirred up old regrets."
"......"
"Forget what I said. Just pity party."
Flames cast shifting shadows on their faces. Silence fell briefly.
Rein broke it. "You could start now."
"Huh?"
"Magic. El Sion's always open."
"Haha! True. If I had talent..."
A Sword Runner matched a noble knight—self-taught, proving his gift. Yet Jack's self-mocking smile looked forlorn.
Poking the logs, he muttered, "Maybe travel after this job..."
"Travel?"
Aila echoed, intrigued.
"Yeah. Lost ancient ruins, sky islands floating high. Or dragons from forgotten myths."
"Dragons..."
"That's just myth! Not real!"
"Who says? Can't prove it, but can't call it total BS either."
He replied to Rein's shout. "Like Orkin founding myths. First emperor's dragon pact—famous, right?"
"I don't buy it. Sounds made-up."
"Plenty risk their lives for that 'made-up' stuff. Rein, kid, got no dreams at your age? What about our Barte's lady? All nonsense?"
"I..."
Aila didn't answer right away. Jack nodded knowingly. "We call 'em Wanderers, chasing ideals. Envied 'em once... but time dulls it. Shame. Time's scary."
He eyed Aila and Rein. "You two, able to chase what you love? Blessed life. Some get no shot just for bein' born wrong. Stuck at the bottom. Forever."
Thud. He tossed his branch into the flames.
"Blabbed too much. Sorry if I soured the mood."
Crackle, crackle. The fire's snap rang clear.
Deep in the mountains. Voices had long quieted. Nearby mercenaries prepped for bed.
Rex said, "That's it for tonight. Late—early start tomorrow, so sleep."
"Lucky, huh, boss? No sign of those bandits."
"No news is good news. Pack up."
At Rex's word, they prepared. But Licht stared into the crackling fire.
"Licht?"
Aila, about to sleep, asked curiously.
"......Thirteen."
"What?"
Jack echoed Licht's murmur. Aila, spreading her mana wide, paled.
"Thirteen? What the hell does that mean?"
"Too late."
As Licht intoned, sharp metal clashed from the brush—ch-ching-ching-ching!