Chapter 44

“Welcome to the city of Mel. Oh? It’s been a while, Medsav.”

The guard, dressed in a suffocating-looking uniform despite the mild spring weather, hefted a massive halberd in his left hand. He greeted Medsav beside me.

Once the city walls came into sight, Medsav had called the mercenaries up to the front. Now that we had reached Mel, the escort was no longer needed. This city, famed as a free city, hardly bothered with identity checks. Most people were simply waved through.

Only large groups were stopped for inspection. As the guards worked, one of them caught sight of Medsav and called out as if to an old acquaintance.

“Ah! It’s been a while. So, how’s the work treating you?”

“Thanks to you, Medsav, I’m always grateful.”

The guard’s reply had nothing to do with the question, but he smiled and bowed his head. A gesture of thanks, perhaps?

“Hahaha, don’t mention it. Keep up the good work.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Again the guard bowed, this time with an expression full of respect—far more than one would expect. Just what had Medsav done for him? Whatever it was, it must have been something significant.

“Alright, let’s move.”

As I mulled it over, Medsav urged the caravan forward again. When I turned my head, I caught the guard still smiling—not at me, but at Medsav. His eyes followed the merchant as though lit with admiration. I turned forward again, and soon the guard’s face was gone, replaced by the endless flow of people and wagons along the wide avenue.

The caravan pressed deeper into the city until we reached its heart. There stood a large building with a bold sign reading: Mitt Mercenary Guild.

Together with Medsav and the other mercenaries, I entered. At the counter, we presented both the contract and our rank badges.

Once a request was complete, both the client and the mercenaries were required to visit a guild branch in the city where the job concluded. The client would show the contract, the mercenaries their rank badges, and the guild would verify the documents.

From there, the process was simple. The client left once the paperwork was checked, while the guild paid the mercenaries the agreed fee. The money came from the deposit the client had already paid when registering the request. Any extra payment—such as bonuses for monster encounters, like in this case—was also handled through the guild.

Still, some disliked this system or needed mercenaries in a hurry. Those people sought them out directly. I remembered all of this from the instruction sheet I’d received when first joining the guild. The page had been packed with rules and cautions. My memory wasn’t bad; if I recalled it, then it was accurate.

“Hmm, you must be Medsav. You’re free to go.”

The middle-aged man at the counter nodded as he examined the documents and Medsav’s rank badge. After a glance over everything, he pushed the badge across the counter.

“Take your badge back. As for your payment, follow that man over there.”

He pointed toward a table in the corner. His tone was brisk, professional—but noticeably different depending on whether he was addressing mercenaries or merchants.

“Ah, mercenaries—here’s your bonus. Two extra gold coins each. Thank you for your work.”

Just as my eyes followed the middle-aged clerk’s pointing finger, Medsav suddenly spoke up as if he’d just remembered something. A moment later, coins clinked, and two pieces of gold were pressed into my hand.

Huh? In that fleeting instant, I noticed Medsav slip coins to Sharn as well, accompanied by a subtle glance. I wondered what that meant, but the thought was cut short when the clerk suddenly barked out a shout.

“Hey, John! Sleeping again? Get up and escort these people to the vault!”

The shout froze the room. From the corner table, a man scrambled upright and staggered toward us.

I pretended to tuck the gold into my jacket but instead opened my subspace and dropped it inside. A 5th-class spell could be activated by thought alone. The result of endless repetition.

“Uhh? Ah, alright.”

The man—apparently John—took the contract, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and lurched to his feet.

“Follow me.”

His steps were uneven, like he still hadn’t shaken off his drowsiness.

“Then I wish you all well.”

Medsav’s voice called out behind us, but no one replied. By chance, I ended up in the middle of our group. On my left walked Sunwar, who hadn’t spoken a word since that rainy night’s fight. On my right was Sharn, who muttered to himself now and then, but never really spoke.

As I glanced around without much interest, something caught my eye. Hanging from John’s belt was what I could only assume to be a weapon. His tunic was long, covering most of it, but the faint gleam of a sharpened edge peeked through.

Then, three steps ahead, John stretched with a yawn.

“Mmmh… Ahh~ Guess I overdid it last night. Still sleepy.”

When he raised both arms to stretch, his tunic rode up, revealing the weapon in full.

A chakram?

From what I knew, a chakram was circular, its grip wrapped in thick leather. The key feature was that every inch of the outer rim was a blade. Aside from the handle, the entire thing was a razor-edged ring. Some types even had saw-like teeth.

Because of its design, it was notoriously difficult to wield—one mistake and you’d cut yourself to pieces. Yet John carried it sheathed at his waist. Just for show? No. The worn handle alone told me it was well-used.

More telling was the way it was mounted: fixed for quick draw. This wasn’t decoration. He was a professional.

At first, I’d assumed he was just another A-rank mercenary with decent mana reserves. But that weapon… it didn’t fit. His vacant-looking face and that sharp, vicious blade made an odd contrast.

If he ever fought Sharn, I figured Sharn would dominate at the start. But as the fight dragged on, John would gain the advantage. Unfamiliar weapons like that always threw opponents off-balance. Inexperience only amplified the confusion, though veterans could adapt better.

Still, an A-rank mercenary wouldn’t normally take this sort of work. So what was he really?

What began as curiosity about the weapon shifted to interest in the man himself. His dull face and deadly weapon were mismatched, but then again, so were monsters. Many had beautiful faces up front but grotesque forms from behind.

“We’re he~re!”

John threw his arms wide and spoke with a playful tone. His voice was lively, making it hard to believe he’d just been sleeping moments ago.

We’d arrived at a door. John knocked once, then swung it open.

“John again today?”

“Yeah, who else.”

“You don’t take requests? What, got money to burn, huh?”

The moment the door opened, a rough voice barked out. Looked like this John character came here often.

Inside, several men sat behind the counter, while a handful of mercenaries stood in line, waiting for their turn.

“Cut the chatter and hand over nine gold. I’m busy.”

The man with the gravelly voice opened his mouth to retort, but John beat him to it.

“Hmph! And what would you do with it? Sleep? You freeloading bastard. Here.”

At John’s demand, the rough-voiced clerk lowered his head, grumbling loudly, and tossed over a pouch that clearly jingled with coins.

With a snap, John caught it and counted out three gold pieces each, handing them over.

“Heh. I’d rather be a bum than waste away behind a desk. See you, desk-rat~.”

Drawling mockery in his voice, John waved lazily and sauntered off.

“Urgh…! That bastard! Just wait until I’m off work!”

I studied the man who had just growled again. Judging by his mana reserves, he was about B-rank. Whatever his actual skill, he’d still fall far short of John’s level.

“Alright, let’s go.”

That oddly soft, vacant-looking face. The way his eyes always seemed half-smiling. And that chakram at his hip… All of it kept me curious. This was the first time in the Human Realm that someone had sparked this kind of interest in me.

We retraced our steps, the counter coming back into view.

“Uh… g-goodbye…”

A hesitant voice came from Sunwar.

Was that directed at me? From the uncertain tone, it probably was. Maybe he felt this way because of me.

I gave him a simple nod in reply. Sharn, without a word, strode straight outside.

Sunwar must have been cowed by my presence. I had already suppressed every bit of my aura, but judging from how I’d treated him before, it was no wonder.

I slipped my left hand inside my jacket, opened my subspace, and retrieved the two gold coins I’d stored away. That made a total of five.

Paying this meant starting all over again.

I stepped up to the counter and placed the five coins down before the clerk with the gentle face.

“My mercenary registration fee.”

The clerk eyed the coins with mild suspicion at first, but once I spoke, his doubts eased. He pulled out a paper from the drawer, stamped it, and handed it to me along with a pen.