by Funa
***
“Why would you go out there by yourself?!”
That evening, as they made camp, Mile got a stern lecture from Bart.
“If you spot orcs, you report them to me first! We were right behind you—with just a curtain in between us! Why wouldn’t you say something before you jumped out?!”
“I-I’m sorry…”
“I’m not looking for your apologies! Explain yourself!”
Humiliated, Mile had no choice but to tell the truth.
“Well, suppose, Mr. Bart, that you were in the middle of an escort job, and you were walking along at the front of the line, when suddenly you saw some young jackalopes in the middle of the road.”
“O-okay…”
Bart was a little perplexed as to why they were suddenly talking in hypotheticals, but he didn’t want to interrupt, so he listened.
“What would you do?”
“Well, I would just kick them out of the way, and… wait, don’t tell me—!”
“You wouldn’t bother making a fuss and calling everyone over, would you?”
“Are you trying to tell me that a horde of six orcs is the same to you as some baby jackalopes?! Honestly, how am I supposed to manage this young C-rank girl, just doing whatever—”
Someone patted Bart on the shoulder, cutting him off.
“I’m not sure you’re really getting your point across while you sit there chowing down on the orc chops that kid just hunted all by herself,” said Vera, one of his party members.
Reflexively, Bart looked down at the orc bone he was gripping in his left hand. He was already on his third, and his next portion was nearly done roasting.
“Forgive me.” Mile said. “I signaled to the wagons behind us, but I forgot about the people in the wagon I was riding in! I’ll be more careful in the future.”
The group had grown quiet, and Bart decided it was time to back down.
It wasn’t that he wanted to pick on the girl. He was simply concerned for Mile, and with the importance of maintaining a strong chain of command while coordinating three separate parties. Mile understood this perfectly, and her apology was sincere.
“As long as you understand that, we’re fine. Go ahead and eat. You’re the one who hunted these guys, after all.”
With Bart’s permission, Mile began to eat. But just as she did, the Dragonbreath second-in-command, the swordsman Callum, started on her.
“Oy, where’d you learn to swing a sword like that? How’d you cut three orcs clean in half?”
He hadn’t been drinking, but his eyes had a glazed look.
“I-I’m short, and I can’t reach their necks, so I just cut at their bodies—”
“That’s not what I’m asking! Quit acting like you don’t know!”
Mile fretted and Vera, the archer, came to her defense.
“Now, now. Don’t bother that girl. No one likes a pushy guy.”
Callum grumbled and pulled away, refusing to meet Vera’s eye.
“Phew. Thank you so much, Miss Vera!”
Relieved, Mile tried to extend her thanks.
“Whatever. It’s no big deal. I was wondering, anyway—when we got there, you were already jumping out with your sword and the first three orcs were already down. Those wounds didn’t look like they were caused by magic. What kind of crazy attack did you use?”
Uh-oh.
As Mile backed away, something soft smacked her in the back. She turned around, breaking into a cold sweat. Jeanie, the magic user, had clamped both her hands on Mile’s shoulders and was grinning widely.
“Was it magic? Was it some super cool magic?”
“Aaaaaaaahhh!”
It was going to be a little while before Mile could get her hands on that meat.
***
It’s a good thing I prepared my slingshot…
Hoping to escape from Vera and Jeanie’s interrogation, Mile produced her weapon and showed them it was not magic. Merely a simple, almost toy-like, tool. Yet, rather than diverting their interest, this—just like with Reina—made them inquisitive as to how something so simple could produce such power.
And, just like Reina, as soon as they learned they absolutely could not use it themselves, their interest swiftly flagged. As it turned out, Mile’s experience with Reina had come in handy. It seemed that this old dog could learn new tricks, after all.
It was considered taboo to inquire into another hunter’s background and experience, and Callum, Vera, and Jeanie’s intensive questioning was clearly against the rules. Enough that Mile, were she so inclined, could request a formal apology from Dragonbreath.
If she and her company were adult men, they probably would have—but then again, if they were adult men, the three hunters likely wouldn’t dare to push so hard. If you were generous, you could argue that they were just shooting the breeze with friends. If you were inclined to be harsh, you might say they were taking advantage of both Mile and the Crimson Vow.
Bart and Mavis should have intervened as the leaders of the two groups. However, Bart was interested in the conversation, and like the others, he saw the members of the Crimson Vow as little girls, not to be taken too seriously.
Mavis could not stomach being belittled by veteran C-rank hunters but, at the same time, she knew that the slingshot was merely a disguise. Mile’s way of using her wind magic without attracting notice. So, she kept quiet. If she truly wanted to earn the respect of the veterans, it would have been better to intervene, but this was a high hurdle for a new leader.
If the interrogators acted in a forceful or threatening manner, one of the Crimson Vow would have intervened. But Vera had already shut Callum down, and their questions had the air of “just a little chitchat between girls,” which made it difficult to step in—even if it was clear this was more than that…
After a few minutes of this, Mile escaped and finally got her hands on some orc meat.
“Time for some grub!”
“Hey, let me see that thing.”
It was Bart.
A look of despair crossed Mile’s face.
“Never mind,” Bart apologized. “You keep eating. I saw when you were showing Vera how to use it, so I think I get the idea…”
No longer able to muster the energy to protest, Mile handed over her slingshot.
Whoosh!
To Mile’s surprise, Bart pulled the strap back with slightly more strength than Mile used in her critter-hunting mode, cracking through a tree branch.
If you thought about it, this wasn’t all that mysterious. On Earth, even normal people used slingshots for hunting. And with nanotubes instead of rubber you could get a fair bit of power, even if you didn’t pull the strap back to its fullest. The difference was that all the others who’d tried didn’t have Bart’s physical strength.
Still, as an archer, Vera, should have had a fair bit of upper body strength. She should have at least been able to stretch the strap back part of the way…
It seemed that Bart was rather extraordinary. In the way that only a B-rank hunter could be.
Fascinated, he began gathering pebbles, but Mile ignored him and focused on her food. Then she attempted to slip back to her tent unnoticed…
“Mileeeey! If you don’t mind?”
“Sure, sure…”
The women of Dragonbreath called for a shower.
The next morning, Mile awoke to a strangely delicious smell.
She dressed herself and went to find Bart roasting meat over the campfire.
Behind him were birds, jackalopes, and foxes.
Whoa…
Apparently, he had been hunting since the crack of dawn.
A swordsman by trade, Bart was in high spirits. He’d quite enjoyed his first experience with long-range hunting.
“This thing is amazing! It makes it so easy to grab prey! If you had this—”
Noooo! Don’t finish that sentence!!!
Ignorant of Mile’s plea, Bart grinned and continued.
�
�—you wouldn’t even need bows or combat spells!”
Aaaaaand he said it.
Smack!
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Bart turned to find the Dragonbreath’s archer Vera, and their mage Jeanie, glaring down at him.
“Oh.”
The two women dragged him away from the fire, and Mile heard jostling before Bart returned with the borrowed slingshot.
“…Here you go.”
His face appeared somewhat swollen.
It was now the third day since they departed from the capital. If nothing out of the ordinary occurred, they would arrive in Amroth by the evening of the following day.
Though they were a fair distance from the capital, they were still quite a way from Amroth. Today held the greatest likelihood of a bandit attack. With that in mind, the Crimson Vow once again took up their places beside the drivers.
The bandits were free to select the location for their assault. So it was only natural that it would happen somewhere they had the advantage due to terrain or fatigue on the part of the merchant party.
Evening, most likely. When we’re the most tired and just getting ready to settle in for the night… will they strike while we’re still moving? Or when we get to camp?
That was Mile’s thinking. In reality, it was late morning when they appeared.
Her surveillance magic revealed seven human figures in the distance.
That’s fewer than I thought. Are they just a diversion? Is the main party elsewhere?
Figuring that out was a task for their leader. Mile drew back the curtain and gave her report to Bart, who sat in the luggage compartment.
“There are seven people about 300 meters ahead. And they’re not moving.”
“How on earth do you know that?!” Bart looked slightly stunned, but recovered quickly. “Let’s stop for now and get ready. Then we’ll proceed and confirm the group up ahead, keeping an eye on the rear. If they’re bandits, we eliminate them. Even if a fight breaks out, the Flaming Wolves will lie in wait in their wagon. That way, if a separate group ambushes us they can fight them off, and if these guys get too close, they can defend the merchants.”
Of course, the merchants had told their escort not to worry over their protection, but no one could sit by and listen to that kind of talk. They had to defend their clients as much as the circumstances allowed.
Mile nodded at Bart’s instructions, then jumped on top of the tarp and flashed hand signals to the wagons behind. She couldn’t relay Bart’s instructions word for word, but she could get the main points with this simple sign sequence.
As the wagons came to a stop, Mile moved to the fourth wagon to change clothes.
If there’d been no time, the plan was for the men to look away as they changed—or simply don their leather gear on top of the uniforms. However, since they had a few moments, there was no need to change in front of the other hunters. That was by no means a service that Mile was eager to provide.
By the time Mile made it to the fourth wagon, Reina, who had been riding in the third, had already finished changing. Pauline had been in the fourth wagon from the start, and Mavis, who had no need to change, was still in the cab of the second wagon, waiting.
“I guess it’s time…” said Mile.
Reina and Pauline nodded silently.
When they were finished, all three headed toward the first wagon, collecting Mavis along the way. The members of Dragonbreath were already waiting on the ground in front.
The guards began advancing, with only the Flaming Wolves lurking behind in the final wagon—their hidden ace. They had received their orders from Dragonbreath while the girls were changing.
“All right, then. Let’s go!”
“Ah! Please wait a minute!” Mavis interrupted. “Could I persuade you all to let us take care of this part?”
“What?”
“At the moment, it seems like there are only seven bandits up ahead. And we’d like to try get some combat experience. Of course, we’d welcome an assist if it looks like we’re at a disadvantage or if more reinforcements appear… with just us going out at the start, the bandits may get careless. And then, perhaps, the rest of the bandits might be convinced to show themselves as well…”
Bart thought a moment, then agreed.
“Yes. Go on ahead. But if it looks like you’re in danger, we’re going to step in. And if reinforcements appear, then we can’t guarantee you backup. Do you understand?”
“Yes. And please forgive my rudeness. Let’s go!”
The other three nodded at Mavis’s direction. This was the moment they were waiting for.
It was time for the Crimson Vow to have their first real fight.
The six wagons trundled along at a far more leisurely pace than usual. And four young girls walked at the head of the procession.
The five members of Dragonbreath hid in the first and second wagons, ready to mobilize on Bart’s signal.
As they advanced, they came across a log rolled out to block the road. It made it impossible for a wagon to pass, and with such a narrow road, it would be hard to get around it. As the caravan came to a halt, the bandits showed themselves.
“Well, well. You all had better—wha?”
Seeing the Crimson Vow, the bandits froze in place.
“Y’all are hunters? We thought you were some bratty little academy students. Damn. What the hell were those lookouts even spying for?”
The bandits must have been watching from somewhere along the road and selected these wagons as their targets. Normally, the presence of an escort acted as a deterrent, so hiding guards away was unheard of. The bandits simply assumed that their lookouts had made a mistake.
“Whatever. Seeing how young you are, I bet y’all just graduated to D-rank, huh? And there ain’t much you can do with so few. Better surrender now and save yer skins. If you just go ahead and hand over yer gear and yer weapons, along with whatever you get from those merchants, we’ll take that as payment and leave ya alone.”
The man appeared to be the one in charge, but it was clear from his face that the girls would be wise not to trust him.
“That’s what you say,” said Reina, glaring. “But the moment we hand over our weapons, you’ll just capture us and use us for your own amusement—or sell us off as slaves!”
The head bandit gave a thin smile.
“Oh? Well, in that case, we’ll just have to take you by force. Gonna end up the same either way.”
At their leader’s signal, the bandits surrounded the party.
Mavis and Mile readied their swords, while Reina and Pauline began casting their spells.
“Get ’em!”
Several bandits rushed at Reina and Pauline, hoping to stop their incantations, while two more moved on Mile and Mavis to make sure they wouldn’t intervene.
From the bandits’ viewpoint, it made far more sense to be wary of a spell, which had unknown power, compared to a couple of little girls with swords. It would take time for such inexperienced magic users to cast their spells. So long as the bandits moved quickly, they should be able to overwhelm the girls easily.
“Gah!!”
Pauline jabbed her staff into a bandit’s gut, while Reina smashed another in the chin.
“You idiots! If the back-line magicians are in the front, then—guh!!”
“Wh—?!”
The chief bandit took several steps back in a panic, looking at the two bandits who’d been meant to keep Mavis and Mile in check. They were lying on the ground in agony. That left only three bandits—including the chief—standing.
“H-bomb!”
Pauline, who had continued casting through the ruckus, fired her spell.
While it had a rather unsettling name, the spell was nothing more than water, striking with explosive force—nothing involving nuclear fusion.
Obviously Mile had been the one to name it.
She had in mind the kind of bomb she’d seen in comic strips: a round ball with a fuse that had been
historically used back on Earth. If such a thing ever made an appearance here, Mile had decided she would call it a “medieval bomb.” Really, it was a particularly primitive thing, so she probably could have called it a “basic bomb” or better yet, just a “bomb.” And one that she’d devised for blowing away groups of kobolds could be called a “kobold bomb.”
In any event, Pauline’s “H-bomb” sent two more of the bandits flying, tossing them into a tree and to the ground respectively. The only bandit left now was the chief. Reina stared him down.
“Hellfi—”
“Stop it!!”
As Mile and Pauline screamed, Mavis jumped over to clamp a hand over Reina’s mouth.
It was that spell. The spell that her opponent in the graduation exam had used. The spell that, if not properly moderated, would burn any opponent to ash.
Judging the situation based on the state of his companions, the chief bandit dropped to the ground, bowing his head.
“Well. It looks like there’s been a mix-up.” Seeing the fight was over, Bart descended from the wagon. “There aren’t any reinforcements, and honestly, these don’t seem like the bandits we were after. They’re probably just a normal raiding party…”
“I guess so.” Mile and Pauline replied, but Reina and Mavis were still scuffling.
“I’m gonna destroy him! Let me destroy him!”
“Stop!!!”
Chapter 16:
The Past
The bandits suffered some bruising and broken bones, but thankfully there were no life-threatening injuries. In just a few short minutes, the whole group was restrained.
Interrogating them, the hunters found that these bandits had no ties to the large brigade they were after. They explained that the number of wagons traveling through their territory had greatly decreased, and since most of the wagons that still came were larger caravans and armed to the teeth with guards, they had leapt at the chance to strike a smaller caravan that was apparently unguarded, with rich-looking little girls in tow.
“We should kill them!”
“Hmm…”