by Funa
Next, the trio of young men introduced themselves.
“I’m Brett, the leader of the Flaming Wolves. Me and Chuck here are both swordsmen. Daryl’s our spear guy.”
“Er…”
A few of the others cut in. They couldn’t help it. No matter how you looked at it, their team balance was horrible.
Generally speaking, a reasonable size for an F to C-rank party was five to seven members. If you were B-rank or above, you might have even more on your roster. With only four people, you could really only take on low-level monsters, but so long as you were skilled, you would be fine. With eight or more you would have to split into two groups, or keep some members as reserves. That is, if they weren’t already near retirement and just sticking around to mentor younger hunters.
When it came to parties, it was dangerous to have too few members. But if you had too many, there wasn’t enough money to go around and it was easy to fall into interpersonal conflicts. If there was a fixed reward and you had a large group of people, then each individual’s share would go down.
And then there was the matter of balance, unrelated to the number of members.
Take two parties. In party A, you have a swordsman, a lancer, an archer, and a mage. In party B, you have a swordsman, a swordsman, a swordsman, and a swordsman. Which of these parties will do better as hunters? The answer should be clear.
Considered from this perspective, the balance of the Flaming Wolves was horrendous. More than that, they had only three members. It was thoroughly puzzling, no matter who you asked.
“We know. Our balance and our numbers are terrible. Up until just a few months ago, we had two girls with us too, an archer and a mage.”
“What happened to them?” Mile asked, innocently.
The others looked aghast, but it was too late.
“A party of four handsome guys came calling, and they ran off! The other day they came crawling back, all, ‘Let’s team up again!’ But we refused. We’re not interested in dragging pregnant women off to battle, and we have no intention of raising other men’s kids!”
“I… I see…”
A deep silence fell over the group, but Mavis broke it handily.
“W-we are the Crimson Vow. I am Mavis, a sword-wielder and our leader. These two are Reina and Pauline, our mages. And this is Mile, the magic swordswoman.”
“Magic swordswoman?” the Flaming Wolves asked in unison.
Apparently, while Dragonbreath had been present at the graduation exam, the Flaming Wolves had not. It was no surprise that the larger party weren’t shocked to see such young girls taking on an escort role.
As it happened, the client had also been watching the exam. If not, he probably would have hesitated, if not outright refused, to let the Crimson Vow take on this request, when only Mavis appeared to be of age.
“Yes,” Mile said. “I’m fairly good at magic, and also at using a sword. So don’t worry about stopping for water along the way!”
Seeing the haughty looks on the Flaming Wolves’ faces, Dragonbreath shared a wry smile.
“Reina does combat magic, and Pauline’s specialty is healing. She can also use a decent level of support and combat magic, so she’s kind of an all-purpose magician…”
“What? That’s amazing! We figured a bunch of little girls would be dead weight, but I guess you could be pretty useful,” said the Flaming Wolves’ lancer.
His leader gave him a nudge, but Mavis kept smiling. She knew how their party appeared to outsiders.
After exchanging a bit more information about magical specialties and the like, the group departed. From the outset, it was determined the guards would ride in the wagons with the merchants. This way, they could move quickly and save energy to fight if needed. Normally, you’d want the guards to be a bit more conspicuous to ward off danger, but that was hardly a concern in this case.
The first of the six wagons carried three members of Dragonbreath, while the remaining two sat in the second. The three Flaming Wolves sat in the rear wagon, and all four members of the Crimson Vow rode in the fourth.
They were positioned so that, if the caravan were attacked from the side, they could all respond together. Even if they were attacked from the front or back, there were still people who could react right away. In that event, those at the opposite end were instructed not to rush to assist. This wasn’t a matter of distance, but of strategy: it was a common bandit tactic to launch a second attack at one end while the fighting force was focused at the other.
It was possible that Bart had placed the Crimson Vow strategically too, positioning the young girls at the center where it was the safest. While he surely knew in his heart that the Flaming Wolves were probably the weakest link, his paternal instincts demanded that the Crimson Vow were protected.
The Flaming Wolves might be in their teens, but they were most certainly adults, and had not complained at their positioning.
On the first day out of the capital, they weren’t assailed by either bandits or monsters, and made it to the spot where they would camp without incident.
The merchants slept wrapped in blankets in the crooks of their wagons. While it was cramped, it was preferable to sleeping outside. The drivers slept on the ground, with one blanket beneath them and one on top. The same was true for the hunters. If it rained, they would sleep beneath the wagons, or under a tree.
As for Mile and the other girls…
“Hey, what the heck is that?”
“Huh? It’s just a normal tent and bedroll and blankets…”
“Where on earth were you keeping that?!”
The youths of the Flaming Wolves had questions. The cargo in the wagons was packed in tight with just enough room for the merchants to sleep. Everyone else had disembarked for the night. There was no room for the Crimson Vow to pack such bulky personal items.
After using the last of the light to complete their preparations for the evening, everyone sat down to dinner. The merchants provided meals for the journey, but they were all cheap fare: things that were easily preserved, light, and didn’t take up much space. Which is to say, there wasn’t much variety. Yes, it was their old pals: hardtack and jerky, with a side of dried vegetables dissolved into hot water as a “soup.” The portions were far from filling.
Still not too far from poverty, Mile and company would take whatever they could get. They accepted their hardtack and jerky, but handed it all over to Mile, who placed it inside her loot box. She stumbled away for a moment and returned with two jackalopes in each hand.
Mavis prepared the meat with a kitchen knife that Mile had produced from somewhere or other, while Reina grilled over a conjured bonfire. A delicious aroma filled the air…
“Would you all like some?”
At Mile’s invitation, the other hunters—who had been circling at a distance—rushed over.
(Mavis had switched from her short sword to a kitchen knife for cooking because, somehow, Mile had been able to sense a faint weeping coming from somewhere—asking why such a beautiful blade was being used for basic chores. The noise had made her uneasy.)
When the jackalope meat ran out, it seemed that not everyone had eaten their fill, so Mile pulled a portion of orc meat and some toasted rock lizard out of her loot box.
“What? St-storage magic?”
This time, both the Flaming Wolves and Dragonbreath expressed their amazement. At their initial meeting only Bart, the Dragonbreath leader, had heard about Mile’s storage magic. It was a rare skill, and she hadn’t shown it off at the graduation exam.
Out of pride, the merchants (who had provided the original meal) had not come for any of the rabbit. However, seeing what came next, they couldn’t help themselves. The whole merchant party, drivers included, approached.
“Storage magic sure is handy…”
Their jealousy was evident in their voices. An ability like that was every merchant’s dream.
“M-might we have some meat as well?” the merchants asked, and everyone
chowed down together.
This time they used magic to round up the scent particles, explaining to the others that the smell wouldn’t attract any monsters and they could eat without a care.
Afterward, they provided hot showers to anyone who wanted one.
The two women from Dragonbreath, Vera and Jeanie, gladly accepted.
Finally, Bart uttered the words that so many others had said before:
“What useful girls you all are…”
When they gathered for breakfast the following morning, the merchants’ eyes nearly popped out of their heads.
“Wh-wh-what is going on here?”
Brett, the leader of the Flaming Wolves, was trembling violently. Several others were in the same state. Only the lead merchant and Bart, the leader of Dragonbreath, appeared relatively unshaken. They, at least, already understood. The shocking sight they all had seen was…
Mile and Reina wearing Eckland Academy uniforms, and Pauline wearing a gym outfit from the same school.
It was Reina’s bandit-fishing plan.
During her time at boarding school, Mile wore her uniforms day in and day out, so they had worn out quickly. Through numerous exchanges, she’d lost possession of one that fit properly, ending up with a uniform that was a little bit too big. This fit Reina perfectly. And, since the person who had proposed the plan was in no position to refuse, the reluctant Reina had been forced into wearing it.
Despite pretending to hate the uniform, Mavis noticed that Reina actually seemed thrilled with it.
Pauline was less than thrilled.
At school, the only times that Mile wasn’t wearing her uniform (i.e. when she was sleeping) was when she wore her gym clothes. They were stretchy, and even when the size was a little off, you could still wear them comfortably.
But when Pauline wore it…it was bulging. There, there, and especially there…
“Nooooo!”
Mavis, the only one to escape from Mile’s school uniform fashion show, thanked her lucky stars she was too big to fit in any of Mile’s outfits. Reina’s cheeks were a bit pink, while Pauline’s face was completely red. Mavis looked on, uncomfortable. Only Mile continued as usual.
After they’d eaten and packed up, the four girls of the Crimson Vow set up beside the drivers of the first four wagons, one on each seat as they set out again.
“Please watch over me!” said Mile, beaming.
The elderly driver of the first wagon smiled back and replied, “Oh, sure thing. And thank ye fer the meat last night!”
Mile chatted with the driver to pass time. He showed her how to drive the wagon, and she asked why someone of his age was still working as a driver.
“Well now, I already done well retired, but I heard they was lookin’ fer drivers to take some wagons to Amroth. I thought to myself, well if them folks are goin’ down a dangerous road, better it be us old timers who ain’t afraid to die. Seems like some of them other folks thought the same. Fer these six wagons, there’s four of us old vets like me.
“Plus, my little girl ’n her husband do business out in Amroth. If they stepped outta town to get supplies or what have ye and got attacked, they’d be in a heap of trouble. I ain’t got much longer here, so if I got a chance to die fer a cause then… the goddess sure knows how t’ grant an old man some peace in style. Bwa-ha-ha!”
“A-ah…”
Mile nodded at the old man’s words, thinking that he would not be dying on this road. Not if there was anything she could do to prevent it.
There were a number of reasons why this job posting had caused Mavis, Pauline, and Mile some concern. Of course there was the matter of Reina, but that alone wasn’t enough to change their minds.
Their first concern was that the reward was far too low for the requested work. In this case, it wasn’t because the merchants were crooked, but rather because travel to Amroth was so difficult that only the most necessary goods were requested. These items carried a slim profit margin, so the budget was very tight on the whole. And, no matter how much effort they might go to for valued customers, there was no way a merchant would make a deal that would lose them money. So the girls understood why the pay was so low. It was something else that made them question whether they should take the job.
It was the question of killing bandits.
On a normal escort job, going out intending to kill bandits—and especially going out of your way to attract them—was preposterous. However, if that was the intention, then the task could be viewed as extermination duty on top of guard duty, at 1.5 times the normal pay. If it was truly the clients’ desire to attract bandits, this was no issue.
Lastly, there was the matter of taking a job with the strong chance they’d be thrust into combat.
Of course, they could never know with 100 percent certainty that they would be attacked. It was possible the bandits had just finished attacking another caravan. Even bandits couldn’t possibly work every day. And there was a chance that the bandits might have already moved on to another country.
Really, this was a standard escort job with a heightened chance of being ambushed. What happened was completely up to fate. Still, Mile, Mavis, and Pauline had very different opinions on that point, so they tried not to discuss it too deeply.
Mavis was exempted from the “cute clothes plan” because, as an advance guard fighter, her gear took the longest to put on. In addition, she simply couldn’t wear Mile’s clothing. The magicians required little time to prepare their gear, so they all participated at Mile’s insistence—perhaps because she was embarrassed at the prospect of being the only one in school girl’s clothes.
As the progenitor of this plan, Reina had no right to object and, dogged by her companions, Pauline couldn’t escape either—even if it meant having to wear a tired old gym uniform. Mavis, concerned that the slightest comment might get her sucked into the maelstrom, did her best to remain uninvolved.
And so it was determined that Reina, Pauline, and Mile would wear Mile’s clothing from her academy days—along with their own boots, which were a bit awkward to change out of. Their footwear would be the only thing that might mark them as hunters.
They hadn’t worn these outfits on the first day because they were still close to the capital, where the chance of bandits appearing was low. But the number one reason was simply ego—if their acquaintances from the city saw them dressed like this, they would never live it down!
They practiced again and again until they were able to don their gear in a matter of moments. As long as they weren’t struck by a surprise ambush, they would be prepared to fight.
In any case, the magic users were never meant to be involved in close-range combat. Even their leather armor could not offer total protection against sword and spear. For them, gear was something of an afterthought.
Even as Mile chatted with the driver she secretly cast surveillance spells and, finally, a ping attracted her attention.
Hmm, looks like…orcs, perhaps? Six of them.
Mile leapt from the cab onto the tarp covering the wagon, giving a hand signal to the others behind.
The wagons following her came to a gentle halt. Then, Mile climbed back down to the cab and directed the driver to stop. She jumped down from the wagon and ran ahead.
There they are!
Mile hid behind a big tree and peeked around.
There were six orcs, just as she’d predicted. Perhaps they’d spotted the wagons from an elevated place and were lying in wait—or perhaps they’d simply stumbled upon them. Either way, if the wagons proceeded they would encounter the orcs. She had to fight them here.
There was no point in conveying this to the other hunters. With that in mind, Mile pulled the slingshot from her loot box and gripped it in her left hand, taking out an iron sphere about the size of a pachinko ball.
It’s funny to think that these bullets look so much like the balls you use in the game. Perhaps there’s some connection? Here, the stakes are somewhat higher…
; Pondering this, Mile inserted the metal ball into the pouch of the slingshot. She didn’t use pebbles here, worried they might shatter and end up dispersed throughout the orc’s thick flesh. If someone were to crunch down on a rock in a piece of orc meat, it wouldn’t just be unpleasant. Since this world had no real dentists, you’d be out of luck if you cracked a tooth… unless maybe, it could be restored with healing magic? Or re-grown in place of the old one? Either way, Mile had no desire to find out. Worse, what if you chewed up a rock? Would you absorb the minerals?
Her thoughts grew stranger and stranger, so she decided to stop thinking.
As she wasn’t gathering small animals, she held her left hand out as far as she could and moderated her right hand, drawing the carbon nanotubes back to two-thirds of their maximum stretch.
Aim steady…
Whoosh!
…Bang!
Whoosh!
…Bang!
Whoosh!
…Bang!
The sounds of firing rang out three times each before Mile flew out of the shadows, brandishing her sword.
As the remaining orcs puzzled over how their companions were suddenly spewing blood from massive holes in their guts, two more orc heads were blown away and the three remaining orcs were driven into a frenzy.
In truth, when Mile saw the bullet fly into the first orc’s gut, she realized that she had mistakenly ruined the best of the meat—so she shifted her aim to the heads. Could she truly be so calm in the face of danger? Perhaps she just had food on the brain…
In any event, Mile flew toward the raging orcs and dashed between them, her sword swinging.
Slash!
Thud! Ka-thunk!
Behind her, the top halves of the three orcs separated from the bottoms and fell to the ground, oozing blood. Not a drop splashed onto Mile’s clothing.
“Y-you…”
Hearing a voice behind her, Mile turned to see Dragonbreath—their mouths half-open, staring in awe at Mile, who stood before the corpses of a half dozen orcs.