Chapter 31

Chapter 31

“Ahhhhh!”

Philip felt that scream of death tickle the nape of his neck. His chest warmed, and the robber entwined with him collapsed. After extracting the sword embedded in the robber's solar plexus, Philip finally slumped to the ground.

"Phew... phew..." Philip’s held breath burst forth.

As the tension eased, Philip finally felt the burning in his thighs and cheeks. It was the wounds from the battle with the robbers. Gasping without even thinking of stopping the bleeding, Philip eventually turned to look at Ian, who was sitting next to the campfire.

Ian, casually munching on jerky, remarked, "You've got a manly face now."

"Why in the world..." Philip barely managed to utter in a drained voice.

"I told you things would be different from when you were with Sir Riruel, didn't I?" Ian shrugged.

Philip wanted to complain that he had not expected this kind of difference but soon just sighed. After all, he was the one who had said to be prepared and suggested going toward the campfire.

Eventually, Philip murmured, "Perhaps my lord had wished for me to experience this, the true face of the kingdom."

"Assigning meaning, huh?" Ian chuckled and threw bandages and cloth at Philip. He then continued, "Start with first aid, then get up,"

"What's... left more to do?"

"The most important part."

Ian stuffed the remaining jerky into his mouth and approached the body of the blind. As he began to strip the equipment from the corpses and search their belongings, Philip's brows furrowed.

"Are you looting them now?"

"I’m just transferring ownership. You must have seen a lot of this at the border,”

"Well, yes, but... back then, it was returned to the unit. And the enemies were also either pirates or barbarians”

"Then it's time you learn the joy of filling your own pocket. The ones you killed, you loot."

"....” Philip pursed his lips. For someone who had spent a long time as a squire of a paladin, this was not a task he relished. It almost made him feel like he had become a robber himself.

"Can't do it? Then I'll take care of it." Ian skillfully picked out the necessary items and moved on.

"No, this too shall be an experience." Philip quickly came to his senses and shook his head.

After hastily finishing the first aid, Philip reached out to the body of the robber. He briefly rummaged through the still-warm corpse.

"...!" A purse fell into Philip's hand. His eyes widened as he checked its contents. It was silver and copper coins. As Philip stared at it, mesmerized, the corners of his mouth slowly lifted. He hurriedly pocketed the purse, with his movements becoming quicker.

"You're enjoying this," Ian chuckled at the sight of him eagerly stripping the corpse.

Funny how he was acting as if he were a knight before, thought Ian.

The looting ended swiftly and smoothly. Ian, with a bulging purse, and Philip, now equipped with a new sword, dagger, gloves, shoes, and belt, stood side by side. They both looked down at the same thing.

A sealed chest that was being transported by mercenaries. To Ian, the box seemed excessively fine for the abilities of the mercenaries. The spell circuits were intricately carved on its surface along with the crafted magic stones that sparkled in between.

...They would've made more money passing this to a fence, as Ian pondered, Philip turned to look at him.

“Is it just me that wants to open this chest?” Philip asked.

Ian licked his lips. He felt the same curiosity. The situation was something he had never encountered in a game, which only fueled his interest.

It might be a quest I skipped. ...I'd prefer to open it during the day.

Ian grasped the chest's latch and subtly opened his pocket dimension. However, he only felt a repelling force, as if being pushed away, preventing it from entering.

As expected, it doesn't work.

It was the kind of repulsion felt when trying to put a living thing inside. Since it was sealed, he had hoped otherwise.

No choice then. Ian drew his dagger. New novel chapters are published at novelhall.com

"Step back," said Ian.

"Yes!" Philip quickly sidestepped.

Ian, channeling magic into the dagger, struck the magic stone embedded at the seam of the box with all his might.

Crack!

Ian, having picked up a new dagger from among the corpses, grasped the handle of the sealed box.

"Bring the horse. We're moving.”

"Just like that?"

"Would you rather wait until the smell of blood draws something here?"

Philip's sigh deepened, understanding they had to walk until dawn to get away. Finally, after rubbing his face with his palms, Philip turned around.

In the meantime, Ian, having stashed the sealed box into the pocket dimension, checked his equipment and mounted the saddle.

The wandering mercenary and his companion faded into the darkness, leaving behind the cold corpses and the dying campfire. But only for a moment, as eyes of various sizes began to gleam from beyond the darkness. The scavengers of Agel Lan, drawn by the scent of blood, were approaching.

***

Orendel looked like a city worn out, like tattered cloth. The inner castle, arbitrarily expanded upon an ancient fairy fortress, jutted out atop a hill, and within and without the outer walls lay the residences of the townsfolk. Beyond fences of wooden stakes, hastily constructed shanties for immigrants sprawled irregularly. Though lacking in uniformity, the city's size was comparable to that of Agel Lan.

Even the inn located in the slum boasted a size fitting its setting. Initially meant as a space for homeless immigrants, the inn had now become a haunt for mercenaries drawn by the scent of money. In a city growing rapidly, there was an abundance of both large and small jobs needing their skills. Amidst those spending their freshly earned money noisily,

Creeeak—The inn door opened noisily. and two men entered the room. Those sipping on their drinks glanced over at them one by one. They were unfamiliar faces, after all.

The freckled youth leading the way seemed quite young but had eyes like rotten fish, evidence of the harsh journey he had been through. The man with dark eyes following him appeared calm, but the sharp aura of a veteran mercenary emanated from him. As some mercenaries scrutinized his leather armor and the sword at his waist,

"That table over there seems good, sir," Philip whispered to Ian and took the lead.

Following calmly, Ian commented, "Do we have to sit in the corner?"

"It's safer in case a fight breaks out. Don't you remember how I almost died last time?" With a tone that suggested it was the most natural thing in the world, Philip scanned the room as if daring anyone to challenge them, prompting Ian to let out a scoff.

It was because Philip had become the very embodiment of suspicion. This was the outcome of passing through two towns and repeatedly sleeping rough. Of course, it was also thanks to Ian making sure Philip got his fair share of action whenever a fight broke out. The number of scars etched on his body had deepened his distrust of the world accordingly. To Ian, Philip was still a novice, but considering only a fortnight had passed, it was considerable progress.

At least now, no one would think of Philip as a squire of a paladin. The two sat down at a small table in the corner.

"What can I get you?" The waitress approached with a listless expression, having watched them.

"What's good to eat?" Given her lack of enthusiasm, Ian asked with a smirk.

"Nothing's good, but if you want something edible, I'd recommend the sausage. If you're getting bread, make sure to order stew with it. It's the only way you'll be able to swallow it," the waitress replied.

"Then we'll have all of that."

The waitress nodded and turned away.

Watching her back, Philip eventually whispered, "So, what's the plan now?"

"Why do you keep whispering?"

"Someone might hear us.”.

"It doesn't matter. Acting nonchalant makes people pay less attention.”

"...I've learned something new again.”

Always learning, Ian mused with a chuckle, surveying the room. It seemed filled mostly with mercenaries, almost entirely.

"We'll stay a few days, get a feel for the place. Earn some pocket money while we're at it as well.”

"So, we're blending in for now.”

"If we suddenly start asking around about missing soldiers, that'd be suspicious in its own right." As Ian nonchalantly replied, the waitress returned with the plates. Food was served.

With the waitress watching, Ian nodded after tasting the sausage, "Truly just edible."

"Trust me, everything else is worse," said the waitress.

Hearing her resigned comment, Ian pulled out a silver coin. The waitress's eyes widened, not expecting such a generous tip.

"Seems like there's plenty of workaround. How do you land a decent job?"

Quickly pocketing the silver coin, the waitress lowered her voice, "If you go for the big jobs right away, you'll run into trouble. Despite appearances, there are rules here. Unless it's something so dangerous that no one else would dare touch it. Start with the smaller tasks."

It was an advice laden with the obligation of the tip received.

Ian smiled, "Good. Dangerous jobs were exactly what I was looking for."