36 — Chapter 36

He was already past fifty, but judging from how he acted, you’d never know it. Maybe that recklessness was simply part of Jampe’s nature.

Colin, on the other hand, said nothing. He just turned and walked toward the lone exit of the training grounds. The sparring match for today was over. If those two started bickering, there was no telling when it would end.

“Do you honestly think that makes sense?”

Skoll sounded exasperated, his tone edged with anger. He had nearly died just now. A split second slower and…

“You survived, didn’t you? That proves it makes sense.”

“…Haa.”

Skoll let out a weary sigh at Jampe’s matter-of-fact reply. He couldn’t even remember how many times this had happened—hundreds at the very least. You’d think a person would get used to it, but when your life dangled on the edge like this, “getting used to it” was a gift that never came. What it gave him instead was caution. Still, it was true that his skills had improved because of it. One way or another. Dangerous as it was.

“Let’s stop here.”

“Exactly! Hahaha!”

Jampe laughed heartily at Skoll’s words, his gaze roaming around the grounds. But something caught his eye—or rather, failed to. Colin was nowhere in sight. Jampe spoke up.

“Hey, where’s Colin?”

“Probably went on ahead again.”

Skoll answered indifferently, tilting his head back toward the sky. Thick clouds were rolling in from the west. By tomorrow, there would be rain—heavy, pounding rain.

“Let’s head out too.”

Still looking upward, Skoll shouldered his sword and started toward the exit Colin had taken.

“That guy better not be sneaking lunch without us.”

Jampe, apparently forgetting the near-death experience of a moment ago, was already worrying about food. The sun was still high overhead—it was noon.

“Strange, though. We wrapped up early today.”

Jampe spoke as he followed Skoll out the doorway. He meant their argument had ended unusually quickly. Now that he thought about it, Skoll realized it too. Normally, twenty minutes of squabbling was a given. Today, it had been cut far too short. If they showed up now, Colin might be startled at how fast they arrived.

“You’re right.”

Skoll gave a simple nod. He slid his longsword into the large bin set against the wall, where dozens of practice blades were stored. Jampe followed behind, returning his own sword to the pile.

“So, how’s it feel using that new mana accumulation method?”

Skoll tossed the question out casually as they walked down the corridor. Every knight of the Empire was learning the new method now. Even the Three Great Knights themselves were no exception.

“How else? It’s incredible.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Of course.”

Jampe’s blunt reply left Skoll at a loss for words, so he just kept walking in silence. The Empire was set to go to war with the magic-famed Widav Kingdom this coming winter. The plan was relatively simple: strike fast, seize critical positions, and crush resistance before it could mount. Only the Empire’s finest would be sent—and naturally, its strongest knights and mages would take the field.

“Mmm? Smells good.”

Jampe, his thick red beard dripping with rain, flared his nostrils.

“…I suppose.”

“Hey, don’t start acting like Colin.”

Jampe’s tone turned irritable at Skoll’s sudden chill. Of the many things he hated, Colin’s cold, clipped manner of speaking topped the list. Skoll sounding the same way grated on him all the more. His reaction wasn’t strange at all—it was inevitable.

“…Fine.”

Skoll agreed in words only; his voice stayed cold. Colin’s icy tone was more than enough on its own. Jampe didn’t need it doubled. Finally, he snapped.

“Skoll!”

The situation was the exact opposite of earlier, when Skoll had been the one shouting across the training grounds at Jampe.

I stepped outside, feeling the weight pressing against my palm. The world was smothered in darkness, moonlight swallowed by thick storm clouds, and the downpour made it nearly impossible to see. Raindrops battered my whole body until the sensation dulled into numbness. My back was probably caked in mud—unless the deluge had already washed it clean.

Soaked to the bone, I sharpened my senses on the surroundings.

The camp remained quiet. No stir from the tents. Clearly no one had noticed the orc horde moving this way. I focused again, stretching my awareness toward them. Their pace was sluggish, but steady. They’d be here in about two minutes.

A thought crossed my mind: maybe I should just go and wipe them all out myself. But then again, it might be worth watching Horse-face and Skeleton fight. See how they handled themselves.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if Horse-face, after running away from me earlier, could actually fight properly. If he didn’t get his head straight, he’d almost certainly end up hurt in this battle. I considered snapping him back to his senses, but shook the thought away.

If you couldn’t survive on your own, you had no place in the mercenary world. Teammates or not, I had no intention of bailing him out. If your skills fell short, dying was natural. And even if someone saved you, unless you learned and adapted on your own, it meant nothing.

Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed how much time had passed. I brushed back the rain-soaked hair plastered to my forehead and walked forward, heading straight for the center wagon.

I couldn’t see through the storm, but with my senses I could feel the orcs spreading wide across the field. Facing them in the middle would be more effective. It was also the spot that drew the most attention—perfect for what I had in mind.

What I wanted was simple: to make the name “Kain” famous in the mercenary world. Give it two, maybe three requests, and it would spread fast. After all, how could people not talk about a twenty-year-old mercenary wielding an Aura Blade? Once I would be known, special missions would follow. And with them, serious money.

But to make that happen, my skills had to be noticed first. Better to show it directly than to just let people hear the rank “A-class.”

I stopped in front of the wagon and pushed the plans aside. All that mattered now was putting them into action. Except… maybe not tonight. With rain this heavy, no merchant could see clearly anyway.

“Monsters are coming! Everyone get to the trees!”

I infused a thread of internal energy into my voice. The words rang out across the camp, reaching every ear. Not long after, the merchants’ anxious mutters answered back.

“M-Monsters?”

“Is it true?”

“It must be! Hurry, to the trees!”

I felt their presences gather together—probably at the grove nearby. On any other night, they wouldn’t have moved on words alone. But the downpour, coupled with the darkness of night, was enough to drive them.

As I brushed my wet hair aside again, three distinct presences closed in behind me. Two carried mana. The last… none at all.

“Are monsters really heading this way?”

The calm, slightly doubtful voice of Medsav came from behind my back, where he stood with the wagons at his back, staring out at the open plain. His tone carried a faint trace of surprise, though not fear of monsters.

“Yes.”

I answered while brushing my hair away once more. In this storm, even a nod would’ve gone unseen.

“Are you—”

“Are you certain?”

Medsav’s words were cut off by Sharn’s sharp voice, slicing clear through the rain from my right ear.

“Yes.”

I kept my eyes forward and repeated myself. The orcs would be visible soon.

“How can you tell?”

That same cutting voice asked again. I started to answer, but instead of words, I tightened my grip on my sword. The horde was close enough now.

“Hm.”

A low sound slipped from Sharn. He must’ve sensed them too. A moment later, the ring of steel echoed as his blade slid from its sheath—sharp and cold, just like the man himself.

“Then, I’ll leave it to you.”

Medsav’s voice came again from behind me, polite, without a hint of worry. Was it trust in our strength? Or did he have something else up his sleeve? His presence retreated steadily into the distance.

But two others lingered by the wagon. If my voice had carried enough to move the merchants, then the orcs must’ve heard it too.

“…Hmm.”

A low mutter came from behind me—Horse-face.