by Funa
The panicked men heard a voice. The voice of a very young girl.
“Aha! It looks like the barrier troops have arrived!”
Barrier troops.
Army units that watched over the other units from behind, charged with entering the fray if any of their men attempted to retreat, flee, or surrender without permission. Normally, their job was to compel their men to continue to fight. However, these barrier troops had had a slightly different purpose.
Their duty was to track down survivors from the merchant parties that the blockade troops had attacked and quietly annihilate them. With the merchants’ guards wounded and with no means to fight back, they would kill each and every survivor.
Even more than those enacting the blockade, these troops were charged with slaughtering innocent people—something any normal soldier would likely be unable to do. In the end, the deeds were recorded as an action of the blockade units.
The existence of the barrier troops was a shadowy one. They were nowhere, and they did nothing. That was the sort of fighters they were.
If any of the blockade platoon was taken captive or turned traitor, they would be terminated right along with the enemy. This was the role that they took on today.
They were a specially-trained, elite group, and swore an oath of absolute fealty to the Empire—doing any dirty job without batting an eye. This was the nature of the so-called barrier troops.
This time however, they didn’t quite live up to their reputation.
Judging that their opponents were no more than a small-scale caravan with a few guards, the barrier troops had planned to attack the survivors of the blockade on their way to Amroth. Each one of them could take on several guards, so they’d simply move alongside the party to confirm the outcome of the battle and save themselves the trouble of doubling back.
That would have been a sound plan under any normal circumstances.
But this time, the party they were mixed up with was anything but normal—something the barrier troops couldn’t have known.
No matter how long they waited, no merchant survivors appeared, and thinking this suspicious, they’d turned back and stumbled upon an unbelievable sight.
Had their troops been vanquished in battle? Or had they betrayed the Empire, hoping to be granted asylum?
Either way, the barrier troops’ sworn duty didn’t change.
To keep them from talking, they would murder everyone. That was all there was to it.
“I did think it was curious. According to the commander, their instructions were to incapacitate the guards, then steal the cargo and let the survivors go. However, up until now, the number of survivors has been zero. No bandit would bother attacking a merchant who’d already been robbed and was running away on foot…”
Mile’s voice was completely flat. It was a strange tone that Reina, Mavis, and Pauline had never heard before—monotonous, without inflection.
Still, it was unmistakable.
…She’s angry…
Yes. Angry.
Mile was very, very angry.
“Now then, what will you do? Will you surrender, confess everything, and become our prisoners? Or…”
“Kill us!”
It seemed they’d suddenly learned how to talk. Once they had been found and threatened, there was no point in avoiding the matter.
The men’s vision had slowly begun to return, a fact that Mile was already well aware of. At the same time, the guards had taken up their weapons and moved into position. Including Mile, there were twelve of them.
The leader of the barrier troops looked stunned.
They had battled forty soldiers. Even if by some miracle they’d managed to win, they should have been in a shambles, on the verge of total ruin. The barrier troops never expected to find all twelve hunters standing before them in good health.
Perhaps, thought the troop leader, the caravan was a trap from the start, and there are fifty other fighters hidden under the wagons’ tarps. Perhaps these twelve are the only ones to make it out unscathed.
For someone who hadn’t actually seen the battle, that would be a reasonable assumption.
Furthermore, for these troops, who were the elite of the elite, it was reasonable to assume that it would require little work to vanquish the hunters, even if the party were twice the size of their own.
For an average C-rank hunter, fighting against a monster was one thing, but against an elite soldier, the difference in power was absolutely overwhelming.
For an average C-rank hunter.
“No one lay a hand on them.”
“Huh…?”
Everyone was shocked at Mile’s sudden command. Everyone except for the other three girls of the Crimson Vow, who all took a step back quietly.
Dragonbreath and the Flaming Wolves hesitated for a moment, but seeing the complete calm of their fellow hunters, realized that there must be some plan. They joined the line behind Mile.
Once she was certain all of her allies were a safe distance away, Mile muttered magic without an incantation—that is to say, one that could be cast simply with the name of the spell.
“Sand Wall.”
Though the land was rocky, that didn’t mean there was no sand beneath them. Mile knew that even if there wasn’t, the nanomachines could break the rocks down into something suitable.
A strong wind circled Mile and the barrier troop leader, creating a sandstorm wall.
This was not a method of attack, but a way of obscuring her companion’s view of the battle. This had become the sort of situation where Mile intended that.
“Come,” said Mile, holding out her left hand.
Even the barrier troops, accustomed to hardening their hearts against anything and everything, looked suddenly angry.
“Don’t provoke us. You’ll regret this foolishness!” one of the men shouted, drawing his sword and swinging it down at her.
Mile whipped her sword out and back into its sheath in one smooth movement, cutting the man’s blade clean in two.
“Wha…?”
As he stared in disbelief at the remains of his weapon, Mile struck him in the side.
Snap, snap!
Something broke. Obviously, it was not Mile’s sword.
She had no interest in a man who would take his eyes off of his enemy in the middle of a battle. The man crumpled to the ground and passed out from pain, and Mile shifted her gaze to the enemy leader. She offered out her hand again.
“Y-you little…”
Whshh!
One of the others stepped in from the side and swung his sword down in a slashing attack. It came without warning. It was weak and cowardly. This was not a game or a practice match.
And yet…
Cling!
Though there should have been no time for her to defend herself, Mile’s sword rushed up to block the blade, knocking it from her attacker’s hands. He pushed back, but his blade couldn’t move hers by even a millimeter—like striking an iron bar at full strength.
“Gaahh!”
The man bent over and wrapped both arms around his body, unable to retrieve his sword. Perhaps he was not merely numbed. Maybe his muscles, ligaments, or bones had been damaged.
With a horrible cracking sound, Mile kicked the man in the shin. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground, and flame came flying toward her.
It was a fireball. They had silently cast the most basic, easy-to-use combat spell of any power. Apparently the caster was wearing the same gear as the swordsman, to hide the fact that there was a magic user in their midst.
Using her empty left hand, Mile plucked the ball of flame out of the air and tossed it away. It was an incredibly flippant gesture, performed without expression.
“I-Impossible!” the leader shouted in utter disbelief.
The mage who had sent the fireball stood stock-still, speechless. All the learning he had cultivated through his decades as a mage had just been thrown out the window.
At last the leader
realized that tossing attacks at Mile was hopeless. The remaining soldiers attacked all at once. Mile flipped their swords back easily. At first, the men didn’t lose their blades, but their sides were left almost completely open and a blow from the side of Mile’s sword sent their weapons flying.
The flustered mage began another combat spell, but Mile was at his side in an instant, knocking him unconscious in a single blow.
The fact that he’d advanced with the melee fighters to hide his identity, instead of staying on the back line, had backfired. Then again, even if he had been on the back line, the results probably would have been the same…
As the sandstorm dissipated, Dragonbreath, the Flaming Wolves, and of course, the Crimson Vow, anxiously rushed over to Mile only to find six enemies writhing on the ground. Now it was their turn to stand stock-still, speechless.
“Come on! If we don’t hurry up and interrogate them, we won’t have any time to sleep!”
Though it was a very Mile-ish thing to say, her expression was harsh, and her voice still sour.
***
It was nearly morning when they finally got back to sleep. In the end, everyone except those assigned to watch slept until almost noon.
When they finally woke and began preparing a meal it was time for lunch, not breakfast. As they cooked, a man on horseback passed by. He appeared to be a hunter, and he was riding from Amroth in the direction of the capital.
“That must be one of Fargus’s messengers. We’ll probably see another one soon.”
Just as Bart predicted, soon enough another horse appeared and passed them by.
“One should be going to the guild, the other to the palace. The rest will be traveling by carriage or on foot so that they don’t stand out. We’ll have those who are fast, but noticeable, those who are slow, but more subtle, and those in the middle. I wonder which of the three will make it there.”
Sending out six messengers, including some on horseback, would be quite the expense, but now was not the time to mention that. The messages absolutely had to be sent, no matter what. That took priority. Besides, the hunters expected that their expenses would be covered in addition to their reward.
Later, twelve riders on horseback approached. The group was split roughly in half between hunters from the guild and soldiers from the local lord.
“Looks like you made it!”
As they arrived, a man in his forties climbed down from the first horse, smiling.
“I’m Connelly of the Amroth Regional Forces. We’ve been in a bind since the merchants stopped coming though. We’ve looked for them ourselves, but not been able to catch hide or hair of them. News of your victory comes as quite an embarrassment. Nevertheless, you’ve saved us! Our lord is normally rather thrifty, but he likes to open his purse for those who do great deeds. You should all expect a nice reward!”
Bart was relieved to hear the lack of resentment in the man’s tone. It was not unheard of for situations like this to result in bad blood.
Next, an elderly man approached. “I’m the master of the Amroth guildhall. You’ve all done excellent work. And although this job wasn’t specifically advertised as an extermination task, we’re going to treat it as a standard bandit-slaying job and pay you anyhow. Of course, you’ll also be getting seventy percent of any profits from forced labor deals.
“Now, the escorting wagons probably won’t get here till evening, so we’ll head out again tomorrow morning. They’ve got food and such in the wagons, so don’t you worry about going hungry. There’s plenty to drink, too. We’ll stay sober enough to keep watch. You all should relax a little.”
A cheer rose from the Flaming Wolves—over the reward or the promise of a drink, it wasn’t clear. At this point, they probably wouldn’t have cared if they were never paid a copper so long as they could get their hands on something to drink.
“We’re grateful. But there’s something I’d better explain…”
Bart filled the riders in on the details.
The rest of the day passed without much else of note, and the support wagons arrived before nightfall. The Flaming Wolves had their fill of food and drink, while Dragonbreath partook only of the food. No matter how many fellow hunters or friendly soldiers were present, they were not foolish enough to get drunk.
Pauline’s birthday had passed and she was now fifteen, so besides Mile, all of the Crimson Vow were officially adults—not that this country had any age restrictions for drinking in the first place. Still, the girls did not drink anything beyond a bit of wine with dinner.
The merchant party hadn’t slept at all the night before and went promptly to bed after their meal. Dragonbreath seemed to be rotating shifts to keep watch.
The Crimson Vow knew that they’d be fine as long as Mile put up her barrier and alarm magic, so they all climbed into their tent and went to sleep as usual. They were all exhausted, and there’d be no excerpts from the Altered Japanese Folktale series tonight.
The next morning they ate a breakfast prepared by the support forces and headed out, bringing the seven bandits, the corpses, and the soldiers.
No bandits would be stupid enough to challenge such an immense force, so they proceeded at a relaxed pace, reaching Amroth safely by nightfall.
One group headed to the barracks of the regional forces, where the prisoners would be restrained. This didn’t mean they’d continue to be bound hand and foot—their restraint would now be more like a house arrest. The commander and other officers would be confined to individual rooms. The rest were divided into groups, with interaction between them prohibited to stop them conspiring or aligning their stories ahead of time. They might be cooperative turncoats for now, but there was still a chance that they’d try to escape at the first available opportunity. There was no room for negligence.
After handing the prisoners over, delivering the bandits to the guild, and deciding to leave the final calculations until the next day, the hunters and merchants headed to their final destination.
“So sorry to keep you waiting! I’m so glad you arrived safely.”
It was the customer who had requested the merchants’ services in the first place.
“As promised, I’ll be selling these for the standard price. So, I hope that you’ll…”
“Of course. We won’t be raising the cost on you. We’ll exchange them for the standard price.”
The merchants clapped their right fists to the left side of their chests in some sort of oath.
“To tell you the truth, we brought along some items beyond the requested goods. Might we persuade you to purchase any of them?”
“Oh? Well, we’re short on most stock, so I’d be happy take them off your hands. But isn’t what’s in the wagons all that you have?” asked the purchasing merchant.
The clients called to Mile.
“Miss Mile, if you would!”
“Ah, of course!”
At the request, Mile produced the goods from her storage, AKA the loot box: about two tons (as per public report) of materials.
“Wh-wh-wh-wha…?”
The merchant took several steps back instinctively, gaping at the mountain of goods that had just appeared from thin air. A mountain of goods that the merchants knew were in dire shortage. The buyer leapt at them.
“Th-these are all at the standard price, yes? I’ll buy!!!”
This merchant knew all about the bandit-killing mission. However, even though he was aware there had been efforts to organize merchant parties, he didn’t expect them to succeed until well into the future. While he had no intention of raising prices for his own profit—even this amount of merchandise would allow him to make heaps. More than anything, it would make his customers ecstatic. They didn’t have any other venues to buy from.
“That’s storage magic, right? But, for such a large amount… you’ve found an incredible person here. I’m jealous!”
A magical storage chamber that held two tons of merchandise and lasted for at least another fifty years. For a
merchant, even a thousand gold pieces would not be too dear a price to pay for someone like Mile. He was truly, deeply jealous.
“No, unfortunately, she’s not one of ours. She’s merely one of the escorting hunters, and she offered to take on the extra weight. So we’ll be splitting half of our profits from this portion with Miss Mile…”
Pauline’s eyes opened wide. She seized Mile around the chest.
“D-don’t listen to them, Miley!”
“D-don’t say that, Pauline! It’s bad enough already with just Reina…” Mile slapped at Pauline, whose arms were wrung around Mile’s neck.
“What about the money?”
“I-It’s the party’s! Of course!”
Satisfied with this response, Pauline finally released her.
“One more thing, Miley…”
“Yes, what is it?” asked Mile.
Pauline grinned. “Of course, you’ll have to transport some goods on the way home, too!”
Chapter 19:
Rewards and the Road Home
They were supposed to have the following day to themselves, but in light of all that had happened, they were invited to the local lord’s manor that evening.
The Crimson Vow planned to stop by the guild first thing in the morning to collect their pay, after which they would go sightseeing. They had come all this way, so it was worth seeing what sort of city it was, and they wished to buy some souvenirs for little Lenny.
“Uh, so would you girls perhaps like to go sightseeing with—”
“You keep out of this!!”
The Flaming Wolves were barely able to spit out their invitation to Mile and the other girls before Jeanie and Vera chased them away.
“All right, let’s get going!”
“A-all right…”
The first stop of the day was the guild, so the Flaming Wolves came along with them.
“You all did well. Here’s your payment from the guild. It wasn’t part of the listing, so it’s not a lot, but there’s a standing fee of three gold a head for bandit extermination and a seven gold commission for any who can be sold into labor. Your seven bandits make seventy gold altogether. The fact that the other forty-six weren’t actually bandits was only determined afterwards, so for our purposes they’re just as good. They still get the standard three gold a piece—no reward for selling them—but there were forty-six so… that’s 138 gold anyway. Which makes 208 altogether. Really, it’s a bit low for what you all did, but it’s what the merchants of this town could afford, so I hope you’ll accept it. I think our lord will have a bit more for you too, which will leave you fairly well off…”