Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 12 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Meanwhile, the Apprentices... Part 2

“Ahh. So you’re working hard to become a merchant that your father can be proud of?”

It was nighttime, and while the sky was a brilliant panoply of stars, the only two figures seated by the crackling campfire below were Dorothea and the adventurer she had hired as her bodyguard—Rina.

A day had elapsed since they’d departed from Maalt. The pair had spent much of the journey so far talking, and they were now quite comfortable around each other.

Although there was usually a certain kind of tension in the air between a merchant and their adventurer bodyguard, the relaxed manner in which Rina carried herself had borne fruit in this particular case. No such tension had developed between her and Dorothea. Naturally, Dorothea recognized that beneath Rina’s gentle demeanor there was a sharp, quick-witted adventurer, so she had not wholly relaxed her guard, but the fact remained that they had established quite an amicable relationship.

“That’s not the only reason, of course,” Dorothea said. “But yes, I suppose that’s my current goal. My father manages a moderately large establishment in Mystera, you see. One day I want to have my own store that’s just as impressive, if not more.”

Mystera was a provincial city quite far from Maalt, farther west than even the royal capital. Nevertheless, it was much larger and more prosperous, and the merchant companies there competed with each other fiercely. It also boasted a large population thanks to the frequent movement of people and goods to and from the nations to its west, and one could find products from a diverse array of cultures there.

Accordingly, it was easy to imagine just how much effort was required to go from owning nothing but the clothes on one’s back to managing one’s own store in such a city. Dorothea’s father had not originally been a merchant—merely an apprentice from a small village sent out to learn the trade. Though he had been able to read, write, and do arithmetic, Dorothea knew that the hardship he must have gone through to reach his current position must have been great.

“You can do it! I know you can!” Rina encouraged Dorothea. “As long as you work hard and don’t give up, your dream will come true!”

Dorothea’s usual reaction to such hackneyed words would have been to scoff, saying, “And what do you know about my dream? That’s a lot easier said than done.” Yet the adventurer had been so honest and guileless that she couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Pfft! Ha ha! I suppose you’re right. I’m in the middle of putting in that effort right now. It’s just, I don’t know when it will ever pay off. Sometimes, people tell me I’m aiming for the impossible...but nothing’s impossible. Right?”

“Right! You never know what’s going to happen in life. A dragon could suddenly appear in front of us right now—and somehow leave a few of its scales behind. Wouldn’t that be a boost to your capital!”

“I seriously doubt that would happen...but you’re right, I can’t say it’s completely impossible. If I had a stroke of good luck like that, it would take me leaps and bounds closer to my dream.”

“To be fair, I guess it could also just attack us on the spot.”

“That...seems the more likely possibility, yes. I think rather than count on miracles, I’ll just keep making slow and steady efforts.”

“That’s definitely the right way to go about it. Oh, actually, I’ve been meaning to ask. You mentioned earlier that...”

The topic changed, with Rina asking Dorothea about the various troubles she had encountered in the past. The merchant told her everything—they had plenty of free time as they were just watching over the campfire—beginning with the adventurer she had hired the previous month and going further back to describe more incidents than she could shake a stick at.

While it had only been two years since she’d set out on her own, adding up the stories as she talked made her truly appreciate just how much she had gone through. She wrote all of that off as just the facts of life, however—everything that had befallen her had happened because of her own inexperience or because others had looked down on her for being a woman.

Rina, however, tilted her head to the side, looking confused. “I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a bit too much to be normal. Even if you’re a fledgling merchant and people treat you poorly because you’re a woman...it shouldn’t be that frequent.”

“You think? Isn’t that just how it is, though? Didn’t you go through a lot when you started your career as a female adventurer, Rina?”

“I can’t say I didn’t run into any of that stuff...but it was never as frequent as what happened to you. Besides, in my case, my biggest problem was that I simply couldn’t make enough money. Things are different these days, but I used to always worry about the cost of my daily meals and lodgings.”

“That’s surprising. You have such a good eye for herbs and materials. Shouldn’t that have been enough for you to get by?”

Since Maalt was on the frontier, that meant immediate access to the natural bounties of the forests and mountains that surrounded the town. As such, one could find many materials and ingredients that were rarely seen in big cities. A simple example was useful plants: it was common to find herbs that would go for expensive prices in the city just growing on the side of the road as you trundled along in a wagon.

In fact, Rina had done this quite frequently throughout the day. With her keen eye for flora, she had picked out many examples of such herbs despite the scenery passing by quite quickly as she rode on the back of the wagon, saying such things like “Oh, that’s arcante grass,” or “Look at all those dewdrop herbs. Aren’t they pretty?”

Though Rina hadn’t suggested that they stop the wagon to go pick them, Dorothea had done it herself. Since they had a travel schedule to keep, they couldn’t do so too frequently, but she recognized it as an opportunity to stock up on products that weren’t available in big cities for when she headed there down the line.

Thus, after discussing it with Rina, they began harvesting the useful flora that they came across throughout their journey. Most of the time, this just meant that Rina would promptly hop over and gather everything while Dorothea waited. Though she had offered to go help, the adventurer had insisted that working alone would be faster. Dorothea actually started to feel guilty, wondering if the pay they’d initially agreed upon for this job was really worth all the extra things Rina was doing, so she decided to give a part of the profit she made from selling these herbs to the young adventurer later.

Although Rina had said that she didn’t mind, Dorothea had her pride as a merchant to maintain. It was only proper to compensate the person who helped you to acquire your stock. Also, Dorothea expected she would likely hire Rina again in the future, so establishing a good relationship would be beneficial.

All of which was to say that Rina’s eye for flora was quite impressive—hence Dorothea’s puzzlement over why she had been unable to earn a living for herself.

“I only learned how to do that relatively recently,” Rina explained. “Back when I really didn’t know anything, somebody was kind enough to teach me all sorts of skills. It was thanks to him that I became a proper adventurer.”

“Ah, so he was your mentor.”

“Exactly. The thing is, he’s the type who easily gets dragged into trouble, and I kind of got pulled in along with him. So— Oh, what’s that? I guess you might not be so different from him, Dorothea.”

Rina turned her gaze toward the forest, where there was a flash of movement. Dorothea was quick to pick up on the meaning of her words.

Twang!

An object flew through the air toward them—and was promptly knocked to the ground by Rina’s sword. Dorothea realized that she hadn’t even seen the young adventurer move, but Rina was already standing between her and the edge of the forest.

Rina took a dagger hanging from her waist and threw it into the trees. Shortly after, there was a strangled grunt.

“Wh-What is it?” Dorothea asked.

“Bandits, if I had to guess,” Rina said. “It seems like they only have one archer, so there probably aren’t too many of them. It shouldn’t take me long to deal with them, then. Please return to the wagon. There’s nobody nearby at the moment, but if anything happens, yell for me and I’ll come running. All right...I’ll be back soon.”

Rina ran off, disappearing into the forest.

◆◇◆◇◆

There were many days in a person’s life that were just plain unlucky, Guster thought.

The thing was, you didn’t tend to notice until you were already in the thick of it. In fact, he had woken up this morning feeling grateful for his recent streak of good luck. However, if he had the ability to turn back time—specifically to, say, about a week ago—then he was pretty sure he would have chosen differently.

These were the thoughts that ran through his mind as death hunted him down through the forest.

Yeah. A week ago. That was when this all started.

Guster led a group of ne’er-do-wells based in the vicinity of a village called Muga, which was a little distance away from Maalt. Muga mainly functioned as a waypoint for people to spend the night when traveling the frontier, so it saw a great deal of traffic from merchants who had their eyes on obtaining the valuable materials and ingredients that nature provided around these parts. For miscreants like Guster, it was an excellent hunting ground in which to find juicy prey.

Of course, merchants who belonged to large companies always had groups of hired adventurers guarding them and so were generally untouchable, but that was not always the case for everyone else on the lower to middle end of the scale. While these smaller merchants understood the necessity of hiring protection, there were those who went without regardless, gambling their chances on big profits, as well as those who lacked the connections or means to hire reliable adventurers, forcing them to travel with less than adequate protection.

It was these merchants that Guster generally targeted. What was more, his group was well-balanced. It was formed around a swordsman—Guster himself—and included an archer and a mage, so they were able to carry out their “work” quite efficiently.

Naturally, they also made sure never to draw too much attention; it wouldn’t do to have the authorities on their trail.

Their efforts paid well, and each member of the gang now had a pretty pile of coin stashed away. One more string of profitable jobs and they would have enough capital to head to the city and set up their own store, purchase a small house in the countryside, and live the easy life—or go whatever separate ways they pleased. Since Guster and his group had originally been destitute villagers, they had no particular love for the bandit’s life. They had only taken it up out of necessity, and once they had made enough, they would move on.

Regarding this particular job, Guster and his companions had been drinking at a tavern when a man walked over to their table.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Guster’s first thought had been that the man seemed shady. However, his instincts honed from many years of banditry also recognized that the man was very well-off. Everything on his person seemed expensive, and he carried himself with the unique bearing that the wealthy tended to have.

Guster also knew that such people were sometimes wont to give out large amounts of money on a whim. As such, he had decided to hear the man out—unaware that this marked the beginning of his own end.

“Need something, pal? Me and my friends ain’t necessarily inclined to listen to strangers without a little incentive, if you catch my drift.”

No sooner had he spoken than a large pouch was tossed onto the table with the telltale clink of coin.

Guster was neither hard of hearing nor of reasoning, of course. He had swiftly—although not too swiftly, since he didn’t want to come across as desperate—snatched the pouch up and examined its contents: a frankly unbelievable number of gold coins.

With that much money, even split evenly between the group, they would all be able to retire from the bandit life on the spot. Then common sense caught up, and Guster examined the stranger silently. He knew that such a well-paying job would naturally incur an equivalent amount of risk.

“I’m not asking you to do anything particularly difficult,” the stranger had said. “I just want you to give someone a little fright—a female merchant. Do make sure not to kill her, however.”

The stranger had gone on to explain that said female merchant was an acquaintance of his, and that it had been two years since she had taken up the merchant’s life. However, she had not been doing well, and her future prospects—or lack thereof—were quite clear. And while he had attempted to convince her of this, she had only replied with a blunt refusal.

As such, the stranger said that he’d been left with no choice but to dampen her enthusiasm in other ways, so he’d attempted many different methods of interfering with her business. And yet, none had worked, which was why he had come to Guster and his companions.

“If she managed to push on despite all that, doesn’t that actually mean she’s a good fit for the merchant life?” Guster asked incredulously.

“But then I won’t be able to—!” the stranger exclaimed, before cutting himself off. “Ahem. Pardon me. I did not intend to raise my voice. I have my reasons for doing this—hence the considerable amount of money I’m offering you. I’m not asking you to kill her. Not too bad an offer, is it?”

Guster and his companions mulled it over. It was impossible to tell how much of the stranger’s story was true. However, given the nature of their work, it was fair to say that their “clients” never told the entire truth anyway. If that was enough to make his gang hesitate to take an offer, they never would have gotten anywhere.

The main issue was simple: how dangerous would the job be?

“If this merchant woman has at least two bodyguards who are Bronze-class or above, we won’t take the job,” Guster said. “If those terms are agreeable to you, then we can move on to discussing specifics.”

The actual truth of the matter was that Guster and his group were entirely capable of fighting two Bronze-classers on even footing. They likely could have scraped by even against three. However, there was no telling how such fights would end up for certain. If they wanted to feel safe and come out the other side unharmed, then one adventurer of Bronze-class or lower was the best-case scenario. Regarding Iron-class adventurers, Guster and his group could probably handle five, but it still wouldn’t be a sure thing.

This would be their final job. All of them wanted to finish it safely and part ways with a smile. As such, the terms had to be as beneficial as they could get away with.

Perhaps that would have caused the stranger to leave and try to hire someone else, but if that were to happen, then so be it. When it came to this line of business, managing risk was the be-all and end-all. Anyone who forgot that would end up dead in a ditch by morning, and it was because Guster and his companions had not forgotten that they had survived this long.

After Guster waited a while for the stranger’s response, it eventually came.

“That prudence is exactly why I wish to hire you. I believe you are capable of keeping a secret, and I trust that you will get the job done to the letter. Speaking of which—regarding the terms, I have no issue with your condition. I doubt she has the funds to hire that much protection anyway; she’ll have one Bronze-class adventurer with her at best. If she does have two or more, I don’t mind if you simply keep an eye on her and do nothing more. As for your compensation, you can keep everything in that pouch in either case. Now...do we have a deal?”

The terms were clearly very favorable for Guster and his companions. Nevertheless, they made sure to take the time to discuss the matter among themselves regardless.

Afterward, Guster gave his reply: “All right. It’s a deal. What’s your name, strange— No. I guess it’s better if I don’t ask, right?”

The stranger smiled. “You guess correctly. I look forward to your success, gentlemen.”

The two had then exchanged a handshake, and after the stranger provided Guster and his companions with information on the female merchant, they parted ways.

◆◇◆◇◆

It should have been the perfect opportunity. After Guster and his companions confirmed that the female merchant—Dorothea—had hired an adventurer in Maalt, their reconnaissance at the guild had paid off with the information that her bodyguard was an Iron-class adventurer. Furthermore, when they had looked into said adventurer, they learned that she was a rookie who had seemed unable to even make ends meet as of late.

However, would hiring just that one adventurer really be any guarantee of safety? If Dorothea understood the general capabilities of Iron-classers, then chances were she would take on additional bodyguards, so Guster and his companions had carefully maintained their watch over her.

In the end, Dorothea had been satisfied with the single Iron-class adventurer that she’d hired and departed from Maalt the very next day.

Guster and his companions considered themselves lucky—they had been prepared to face a single Bronze-classer at the very minimum. This was truly the perfect opportunity.

On the other hand, if it had been two Bronze-classers or more, Guster and his gang could have simply done nothing but surveil the target and come away with the same amount of pay, which would have been perfect in its own way.

After this job, however, Guster and his companions planned to retire from this line of work, part ways, and settle down somewhere. Rather than leaving a client with a grudge to settle after they’d done a half-baked job, it was best for their own peace of mind to cleanly carry out the details of the work they had been hired to do.

That was perhaps disagreeable logic from the perspective of their target, but Guster and his companions looked out for themselves first and foremost.

The world was a harsh place. While what little conscience Guster had left deep inside was busy commiserating with his mark, telling her that she ought to blame the whims of life for her troubles, he kept quiet in his hiding spot within the forest. Eventually, he gestured with his hand, giving the signal to the archer stationed on a tree branch above with an arrow nocked and at the ready.

Currently, their two targets were eating. Mealtimes were when travelers were the least aware of their surroundings, meaning it would be almost impossible for them to avoid the sudden shot of an experienced archer. Even if they were able to manage that feat, it would leave them flustered, and six people suddenly bearing down on them would easily be enough to overwhelm a single bodyguard.

That was all it would take. Guster and his companions weren’t underestimating their target, of course—this was simply what their experience against countless Iron-class adventurers in the past had taught them.

A Bronze-classer would have been a different story, but it wasn’t at all difficult to guess the skill level of an adventurer who’d been stuck at Iron-class for a while, especially if they weren’t even good enough to support themselves. Someone like that couldn’t possibly stand up to Guster and his companions.

Thus, their plan was foolproof.

The archer drew back the string and fired at his target: the merchant woman.

The reason he hadn’t aimed at the adventurer was, quite simply, insurance—in the event that everything else went badly, injuring the target would fulfill the minimum terms of the job they’d been hired for. Additionally, aiming at a bodyguard’s client restricted their options and movements. In short, it would make the entire skirmish easier for Guster’s side.

Or at least, that had been the plan.

Clang!

The arrow that the archer had fired was knocked out of the air. As for who had done it, the answer was obvious: the adventurer who had just been sitting down by the campfire. Before anyone had realized, she’d placed herself between the archer and the target, determined the arrow’s trajectory, and struck it down mid flight.

“Guster! She— Ack!”

Just as the archer was about to inform Guster of what was happening, he let out a strangled grunt and fell from the tree where he’d taken up his position. A dagger sprouted from his chest in what was clearly a fatal blow.

“Impossible! She shouldn’t have been able to see through the darkness!”

Despite the words he was uttering, Guster recognized that she clearly had been able to see—her throw wouldn’t have been so accurate otherwise. An Iron-classer shouldn’t have been capable of such a feat—or at least, that was what his common sense suggested. Nevertheless, the experience he’d accumulated from the harsh life he’d led told Guster that the situation before his eyes was reality.

That being the case, he had to adapt at once. Before he could second-guess himself, he was already gesturing for his companions to attack the adventurer all at once. It was unlikely they would all escape unharmed—their archer was already down after all—but that was no longer something he could afford to be concerned with. Guster had realized that their opponent was strong enough that an all-out assault was their only chance.

But his realization had come too late. The adventurer, whom he had just seen on the fringe of the forest, had vanished from sight. The darkness around him began to fill with shouts and screams.

She was picking them off one by one.

Holding his sword at the ready, Guster scanned his surroundings, breaking out into a cold sweat. He couldn’t see her. He couldn’t even sense her. Never before had he fought an opponent who’d blended in with the darkness so well. Just what had he gotten himself into?

It was too late now, though. He couldn’t go back to before he’d taken the job, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“You look like the leader of this lot,” a voice said beside his ear.

Before he could whirl around, something struck the back of his neck, and everything went black.

◆◇◆◇◆

Dorothea wondered what was happening. She couldn’t see anything from her current position, and all she could hear was the occasional scream coming from the forest. She hoped Rina was okay.

Peeking around the edge of the wagon’s canvas, Dorothea examined the forest. She wasn’t sure how much Rina could do against the bandits. Since Dorothea herself only really knew the basics of self-defense, she hadn’t been able to gauge the young adventurer’s ability.

However, Rina’s casual confidence in declaring that she would go after the bandits could only mean that she thought herself capable of handling them—which would mean that Dorothea had no cause for concern.

And yet...she was still hung up on Rina’s appearance. She couldn’t help it—the adventurer truly looked like nothing more than a delicate young girl.

Thus, when the screams stopped and all was silent for a while, one perhaps couldn’t blame Dorothea for considering the possibility that Rina might have lost to the bandits.

Dorothea decided that she would have to get the wagon moving right away if the bandits came charging out of the forest, so she kept a close eye on the tree line. The figure that appeared from the darkness after a short while, though, had her eyes widening in surprise.

“Oh, Dorothea! Don’t worry, it’s over!”

It was unmistakably Rina, dragging something heavy along the ground behind her. While the girl herself was entirely unharmed, some blood from her opponents had splashed onto her cheek. All in all, the scene was very surreal.

“It...looks like everything went fine out there,” Dorothea managed to force out.

Rina seemed entirely unfazed by the whole ordeal. She pulled the object she was dragging forward and gestured to it. “Yep,” she said. “I also caught this guy; he looked like their leader. I’d like to change locations and question him a bit. Would that be okay?”

◆◇◆◇◆

After moving a short distance away from the site of the ambush, Rina tossed Guster forward onto a patch of ground.

“When you say ‘question him,’ you mean an interrogation, right?” Dorothea asked. “Can you do that?”

She’d asked this because interrogation was a skill that required a decent amount of know-how. Most captives were disinclined to spill their secrets—hence why the concept of an interrogation existed in the first place. As someone who had only ever pursued the path of a merchant, however, Dorothea had no skill or experience in such a field.

In a similar vein, Rina didn’t look like someone who was well-versed in it either. It was already apparent that she was much stronger than her appearance suggested, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was practiced in interrogation—and neither did Dorothea want to think that she was.

The idea that someone with Rina’s appearance and demeanor was actually a heartless sadist who lived for forcing captives to spill their secrets...well, that was just plain scary.

That being said, if she was capable of it, any information she could obtain from the bandit would be exceedingly useful, so Dorothea knew she had no grounds to protest.

All this to say: Dorothea had put a lot of thought into her question.

“Well, all of his companions are now lying around in the forest as monster food,” Rina said. “Given how disadvantageous his situation is, he shouldn’t have any reason to be tight-lipped with his secrets. It shouldn’t be too hard to get him to talk. Still...since I’ve never actually interrogated someone before, if it doesn’t work out all we can do is hand him over to the guards in the next town. That should buy us some goodwill at least.”

Dorothea was relieved—all in all, Rina’s suggestions were perfectly reasonable and proper. She couldn’t express this to the adventurer’s face, of course—it wasn’t as though she could just say she had been worried about her being a heartless sadist.

However, Dorothea also thought that expecting their captive to talk was wishful thinking. Nevertheless, all they could do for now was try.

Rina began to shake the unconscious man awake. “Hello? Hello? Please wake up.”

The relatively gentle way she was going about it was probably a reflection of her intrinsic nature. She really didn’t look like the kind of person capable of wiping out a group of bandits in such a short time.

The man blearily opened his eyes, catching sight of Rina’s face. “Ngh...ugh... Wh-Where am I? Who are...?”

“I’m Rina, an adventurer. What’s your name?” First up was to ask for his name. In situations like this, though, there were many captives who wouldn’t even give up that much. Unexpectedly, however, the man answered obediently.

“My... My name is Guster...”

Judging by the man’s unfocused eyes and the fact that he had just awakened from unconsciousness, Dorothea wondered if he was currently unable to tell if this was reality or a dream. If that was the case, it would be best to ask him everything they wanted to know before he fully came to his senses.

They did just that. Rina continued to question Guster, and the man provided them with all that he knew. When they were finished, his head slumped and he passed out once more.

“I think I see what’s going on now,” Dorothea said, astonished. “Evidently someone’s targeting me, though I don’t know who. Does this mean that everything that’s befallen me until now has been the fault of whoever’s going after me...?”

Rina nodded. “Sounds like it. I knew it—it’s just not normal to run into trouble so frequently. That aside, though...we still don’t know who hired Guster to do this. Do you have any guesses?”

“Let’s see...it would have to be a person who’s somehow inconvenienced by me continuing to be a merchant, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“The thing is...I’m not exactly big or important. Who would bother going this far over me?”

“What about your father? You said he wasn’t keen on the idea of you becoming a merchant because he said women weren’t suited for it, right?”

Dorothea was struck by surprise. She hadn’t even considered that; she’d assumed it was unthinkable. But most of all, she was surprised that Rina had conceived of the possibility.

“No...I really don’t think so,” Dorothea replied. “True, my father was against me becoming a merchant, but he did accept it in the end. After all, if he’d truly been so opposed to it, he could have just confined me to the house. That was what he planned on doing at first, and there were even talks of arranging a marriage for me. He thought that if I were married, I wouldn’t have had a reason to leave.”

“He went to all that effort, but still accepted it in the end? Didn’t you say that your last meeting ended in an argument?”

“It did...but he didn’t try to stop me from preparing to go out on my own. I told him that I would definitely establish a company bigger than his one day and then left town...but he could have kept me confined to the house anytime he wanted, or had me seized before I left. The fact that he didn’t...well, I took that to mean that he accepted my decision, albeit half-heartedly.”

“So it’s less about what you said, and more about understanding each other, huh...? I guess if that’s true, then it probably isn’t your father who’s after you. Keeping you confined at home would be a much more reliable method than hiring people like Guster here...”

Rina frowned, deep in thought, but after a moment, she looked up. “Well, it doesn’t seem like just thinking about it will get us anywhere,” she continued. “Let’s call it there and move on.”

“P-Pardon? Are you sure the best thing to do?”

“Well, not really. There’s every chance we could run into more trouble like this. It’s just...”

“Yes?”

“It’s just that now it’s up to you and how you feel, Dorothea. We can head for the next town or outpost, hand Guster over to the guards, and ask them to look for who hired him...but I don’t think they’ll find whoever it is that easily. From here on out, Dorothea, you’ll have to keep facing these kinds of risks. Even if you return to Maalt and just stay put for a while, that will remain true. So...you only have two options here—quit being a merchant temporarily or risk the danger.”

Dorothea realized that Rina was completely right. So long as the culprit remained free, she would keep having to brave the kinds of troubles that had befallen her so many times in the past. But since whoever was behind this apparently wanted to make her quit being a merchant, chances were that if she ceased her business for a time, the harassment would pause too. As such, she could always just sit tight and wait for the culprit to be caught.

However, Dorothea had no intention of doing any such thing.

“I’ll keep going,” she said. “There are so many people out there who would struggle to obtain the daily necessities they need without me. I know I’m just a small-timer, but I still have pride in my work. So...”

So will you protect me? was what she wanted to say, but that was not an easy request to make. An increased risk for Dorothea meant increased risk for Rina too, and the young adventurer had nothing to do with Dorothea’s personal circumstances. Even if she were to increase Rina’s pay, a refusal would be the most likely response. However...

“Okay,” Rina said casually. “In that case, let’s stick to the travel schedule. If anything happens, I’ll keep you safe.” She then bound Guster so that he couldn’t move, tossed him into the wagon, and hopped on. “Let’s go, Dorothea.”

Apparently, Rina didn’t care one whit about Dorothea’s personal circumstances. Upon realizing this, gratitude welled up within the merchant’s heart.

“Right,” she said. “I’m counting on you, Rina.”

◆◇◆◇◆

As far as Rina was concerned, her journey with Dorothea was fun. The merchant was well-informed on a diverse range of subjects, so their conversations ensured they never had a boring night together. Furthermore, while she had been a little prickly at the start—just like the guild had said she would be—the more Rina got to know Dorothea, the more she realized that it wasn’t part of the merchant’s fundamental nature at all, but a result of everything she’d suffered while pursuing her chosen profession. In short, Dorothea had been dragged into what would usually be an absurd number of disputes and scams, and she had become convinced that they had arisen from her own inexperience and gender. Who could blame her for becoming more guarded and critical of her surroundings?

And despite everything, Dorothea still hadn’t stopped trying to believe in people—as evidenced by the fact that she had willingly hired Rina, who was but a simple Iron-class adventurer. So while Rina had only taken the commission because she had wanted to gain confidence in herself, she resolved to do her absolute best to repay Dorothea, who had been so kind to her.

Naturally, this repayment involved making use of every skill she had under her belt. Obviously she would be putting her adventuring skills and swordsmanship to work, but Rina also had the magic she’d spent a lot of time honing recently.

Those skills, however, were something that were common across all adventurers. In terms of what the individual known as Rina could offer, well, she did have a few special qualities of her own—the foremost among them being the abilities granted to her by virtue of being a monster.

At first, that had been limited to a simple boost in stamina and mana relative to the amount of human blood or flesh she consumed, allowing her to work for longer periods of time. However, due to the training she’d undertaken at the Latuule estate, the effects of that boost had been improved. She hadn’t trained anywhere where Alize had been able to see, of course—she’d always had her lessons in the middle of the night.

Because of the body Rina now had, sleep was no longer as necessary for her as it used to be, meaning she could remain awake for several days on end without any issues. It also wasn’t a problem for her to spend the time people usually spent asleep to undergo strenuous training. Rina had learned much during her nightly lessons, and one of the nonmonstrous skills she had picked up was how to fight against multiple foes by herself. What she’d gained from those training sessions had helped her greatly when the bandits had attacked her and Dorothea the other day.

As for her training partners, they consisted of the combatan—er, the servants of the Latuule family, Isaac included. Rina shuddered just remembering the intense training sessions—everyone had come at her with lethal force. They hadn’t actually intended to kill her, of course...but at the time, facing down their naked bloodlust, she had been truly convinced that she was going to die.

The servants of the Latuule family were one and all exceedingly capable. If they had fought seriously, Rina was sure that any one of them could’ve ended her life in a heartbeat. They had wielded all manner of weapons with familiarity and cast a vast array of different spells at her, and while any injury they incurred recovered in an instant, they didn’t rely on that. Instead, they simply overwhelmed her with pure fighting skill.

That begged the question of how exactly Rina was ever supposed to win against people like that, but since it was all just training at the end of the day, they had held back enough that she still had a chance—which wasn’t to say she had an easy time of it. Quite the opposite, in fact—they constantly attacked her in ways she could only barely guard against or avoid, and if she let her focus waver for a single moment, they’d deliver the finishing blow.

All in all, her nighttime training at the Latuule estate was the harshest thing Rina had ever experienced in her entire life. Still, Rina had improved by leaps and bounds thanks to it, so facing formidable opponents was no longer enough to make her lose her cool. After all, no matter who she faced, comparing them to Isaac and the rest did wonders for her morale. It was hard to be intimidated by most opponents after what she’d gone through.

Case in point, the bandits from the other night—compared to how well Isaac and the other Latuule servants could hide themselves, the archer in the trees might as well have been out in broad daylight—in more ways than one, since Rina’s eyes allowed her to see clearly in the dark. As for the others, since they’d been fighting in a dark forest, none of them had been able to see as well as she could. It had been like facing opponents who were blindfolded. In the end, she had whittled down their numbers, then incapacitated the one who had looked like their leader with a bite to the back of the neck.

If Rentt had done the same—and done it intentionally—then whether his victim was human or monster, he would have made them his vampiric kin like he’d done to Rina. She was not capable of that quite yet, though she was capable of controlling her victim’s actions to a certain degree—a technique she had learned from Isaac. When he had been teaching it to her, she’d practiced with small animals that he captured; the battle against the bandits was her first time using this technique on a human, but it had gone pleasingly well. Guster had obediently answered all of her questions, and for the next few days he would likely obey Rina’s orders.

So while Rina had told Dorothea that there was nothing more she could do for her, that hadn’t been strictly true—but it wasn’t as though she could tell the merchant about her monstrous abilities. Rina wasn’t sure her plan would bear fruit in any case. Rather than giving Dorothea any cause for premature celebration, Rina figured it would be more beneficial to teach the merchant what she knew about spotting suspicious characters and seeing through fraudsters. Dorothea was by no means negligent in that regard, but as an adventurer Rina was better versed in the ways of ruffians and bandits. If she imparted such knowledge to Dorothea, the merchant would likely run into less trouble in the future—or so Rina hoped.

“Rina, we’re almost there,” called Dorothea from the driver’s seat of the wagon.

“Oh, right!” Rina called back. She was under the shade of the canvas, and she understood Dorothea’s words to mean that they were almost at the next outpost town. With her in the wagon’s interior was a tightly packed array of goods for sale—and Guster, the bandit leader whom she had captured. His eyes were fixed on Rina, but they showed neither resentment nor any indication that he was planning on making a break for it. Since Rina was controlling his mind, he couldn’t have entertained such ideas even if he’d been capable of thinking them up.

“Do your job properly now, okay?” Rina said to him cheerfully, smiling. “I’m expecting big things from you.”

Guster, of course, gave no response.

It was a very bizarre exchange indeed, and if Dorothea were to see it, she would likely shrink back in fear. It was a good thing that Rina had no intention of showing her anytime soon—or at all.

◆◇◆◇◆

The guard station in the outpost town that Rina and Dorothea arrived at sported a basement that didn’t match the small building aboveground. It was built from sturdy stone and split off into compartmented segments, some of which had iron bars and served as cells.

A minor outpost town like this one almost never made use of its jail. At most, it served as an overnight holding area for drunk townsfolk to cool their heads after the guards had broken up some inane dispute or other at the tavern.

Today, however, was different. On the guard station’s front doorstep was a genuine ne’er-do-well in the form of Guster, the bandit whom Rina had captured just the other day. After she and Dorothea had arrived in town, they had handed him over to the guards, explained that someone had hired him to attack them, and requested their help in finding the culprit.

Bandit appearances in and of themselves were rare in this region, let alone criminals with such complicated circumstances, so the guards had been rather flustered as they took custody of Guster. In a rather anticlimactic turn of events for them, however, he hadn’t put up any resistance at all.

For all that the countryside was relatively quiet, it still saw bandits or murderers around two or three times a year. Whenever such criminals were handed over to the guards, they were all but certain to resist. Even when they didn’t do so physically, their eyes would clearly burn with anger and defiance.

However, Guster’s eyes were empty—to the point that it was actually scary. Then again, maybe “empty” wasn’t quite the right word. Rather, it was as though they were...focused on some kind of dream.

“He’s like a drug addict...” muttered one of the guards. He had once worked in the city, but after losing his temper with a superior at a drinking party, he’d been sent out to the sticks.

Well, the guard reasoned, at the end of the day Guster was a bandit and a criminal, so it wouldn’t be too surprising if he had dabbled in drugs too. That would be a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything that seemed off.

Satisfied, they took Guster down into a basement cell and proceeded to keep a close eye on him. In this town, bandits and robbers were usually executed by beheading or crucifixion after their crimes had been clearly proven. In towns with better-maintained and established roads, criminals were usually not treated in such a manner—they could be sent to larger settlements to await a sentence from a judge appointed by the local lord.

However, this region was as rural as it got. There was a highway of sorts, but it was hardly safe enough to facilitate the transport of a criminal, something which did not have much practical benefit anyway. As such, the sentencing of criminals—as well as carrying out that sentence—was the responsibility of the individual who held the most authority at the local guard stations, and took place inside the towns themselves.

Given this, Guster usually would have been executed on the spot. However, there were extenuating circumstances. Since he had been working under someone else’s orders, it was necessary to launch an investigation, meaning his sentence was suspended for the time being.

This would go on to serve as the catalyst for the incident which happened to occur that very same night...

◆◇◆◇◆

“Ugh...where am I...?”

Guster slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the fog clouding his head. Upon doing so, he saw that he was surrounded by stone walls and iron bars. On the other side of the latter stood a person dressed as a guard, no doubt serving some manner of watch duty.

Why am I here?

Guster thought back to what had happened and was quick to grasp the situation. He was here because he had attacked a traveling merchant, and her bodyguard had turned the tables on him. They must have handed him over to a guard outpost somewhere.

He immediately wondered what had happened to his companions but suspected he knew the answer already. Given their line of work, the rest of his gang must be dead by now. The fact that he was here alone probably meant that everyone else had been abandoned in the forest with debilitating injuries—or worse.

That particular area of the forest served as the stomping grounds for a fair few kinds of monsters, all of which would have been drawn to the heavy stench of blood from a group of injured and incapacitated humans lying on the forest floor. By morning they’d all have been monster food.

Guster hoped that at the very least they had died before being eaten. The thought that they might have been devoured alive sent a shudder down his spine.

He also wondered why he alone had been spared...but thinking back, he remembered that someone had said something just before he’d blacked out: “You look like you’re the leader of this lot.”

In short, they must have kept him alive to get information from him. That explained why he wasn’t in a monster’s belly right now.

Still, this was only a temporary reprieve. Guster knew he was headed for the proverbial gallows regardless. There was a zero percent chance that he’d receive any other sentence—banditry was just that grave a crime. Well, perhaps zero chance wasn’t quite correct—he’d heard that sometimes bandits were sentenced to a life of hard labor mining for ore. Compared to that, maybe dying was preferable—but anything probably beat being eaten alive by monsters, as had been the likely fate of his companions.

That aside...Guster sure was hungry. He really wanted something to eat.

“Hey! Hey!” he shouted, trying to get the attention of the guard beyond the bars. Perhaps his efforts would be in vain, but if he was going to die anyway, why not try? It couldn’t hurt.

“What?” the guard asked warily, turning around.

Guster was puzzled. The guard’s expression wasn’t irritated or displeased like he had expected. Rather, the man looked like he’d seen something peculiar.

Is my face really that strange? Guster had the sort of unshaven, unkempt features that any stereotypical bandit might have, and while he wasn’t conceited enough to consider himself handsome, he didn’t think he was particularly odd-looking either.

Still, he was grateful enough that the guard had seen fit to turn around.

“I’m hungry,” Guster said. “Could you give me something to eat? Oh, and water too, if you have it.”

The guard studied him for a moment. “Seems like you’ve gotten ahold of your senses again. I suppose we do need to have you fit for questioning later, so why not? Here.”

The guard took a hunk of hard-looking bread and a cup of water from the table next to him and passed them through the iron bars of the cell. For a brief moment, Guster considered the idea of grabbing the guard’s hands, snatching the key, and making a break for it...but only for a moment. Even if he were to get out of his cell, he was fairly certain they were underground. He’d only be caught by the guards who were almost definitely stationed up above, and that would be that. There was no sense in doing anything so pointless.

“Thanks, chief,” Guster said. He obediently accepted the bread and water, ate, and drank, figuring that if he could keep his physical strength up, a chance might come along for him to make his escape.

Guster thought about being sentenced to manual labor in the mines...and decided that he probably did prefer that to dying. Turning over a new leaf was an exercise in futility at this point, but he resolved to at least survive for as long as he could manage.

A while after he had finished eating, as he was leaning against the stone wall of his cell to conserve his energy...

“Who are yo— Gack!”

“Get back! Damn it, get— Guh!”

Guster heard yells and shouts coming from above. The guard on watch in the basement heard it too and ran up to investigate, but did not return.

After a short while passed, Guster heard the sound of someone descending the stairs. He wondered briefly whether whoever it was had come to save him before banishing the notion—Guster had nobody who would come to his rescue like that. Nervous, he awaited the intruder in his cell...and was surprised by what he saw.

“Hello. You seem well,” said the man who had hired Guster. There was another person behind him wielding a staff—probably a mage of some sort.

“Why are you here?” Guster growled. “We failed. What’s the use in... Ah. Here to silence me, are you?” The realization made Guster curse his own rotten luck. The man must have been surveilling him and his companions the entire time.

However, the man only tilted his head slightly to the side. “Well...I suppose that is one of my objectives, in a sense. I can’t exactly have you confessing everything, so I did come to prevent that. Having said that, it’s not as though I intend to kill you. I was hoping to have you put in a little more work for me, you see. If you can manage it, I’ll help you escape somewhere nobody will find you. I’ll even throw in a second round of pay.”

Guster was shocked. “That’s not a bad offer, but...’fraid to say that I can’t see myself doing much at the moment. That adventurer was pretty skilled. There were six of us, and she got us all.”

“But ultimately she’s just an Iron-classer, no? My companion here was keeping an eye on your fight, and that adventurer seemed to possess excellent night vision. On the other hand, you and your men were essentially sitting ducks...but the conclusion to be drawn is that she had a magical item. If you fight her during the day, it’s very likely that you’d be able to defeat her with no issue.”

So the mage standing behind the man had been watching the fight? Thinking back, Guster realized that the adventurer girl had moved well and hunted them all down despite the darkness. But while explaining that away with a magical item seemed to make sense, he couldn’t help but feel that something else was at play.

Guster didn’t voice his doubts, however. He knew that if he did, there was every chance that the man would leave and let him rot in his cell.

“Sure, okay,” Guster said. “I’ll do one last job. Why not? I’m a dead man walking as it is, anyway.”

“You have my gratitude. Now then...” The man retrieved a ring of keys from his breast pocket and tried them on Guster’s cell door one by one. Finally, he found the correct one—with a click, the door swung open, and Guster was a free man once again.

“What happened to the guards upstairs?” Guster asked warily.

“Well, since it’s nighttime, there were only three—including one who came running from down here. Currently they are all enjoying a nice nap.”

“Did your mage friend do that?”

“Indeed. But this is neither the time nor place to be standing around chatting. Let us be off.”

And so, Guster, the man, and the mage left the guard outpost and the town behind them as they headed into the night.

◆◇◆◇◆

“Here you go, Miss Dorothea!”

In a village deep in the mountains, three children in shabby clothing dashed up to Dorothea. One of them held out something for her to take, and upon closer inspection, she saw that it was a collection of herbs and flowers. Someone from the big city would have assumed that these children were just playing make-believe.

Dorothea, however, knew better. “Oh, well done,” she said, praising the child. “Zima herbs and poltorin flowers... Why, I think I’ll buy both. I’m afraid this is all I can give you though, since it’s not a large number of herbs. Is that all right?”

She handed three copper coins to the children, who accepted them with delight, split them equally, and ran off.

“Sure, those are zima herbs and poltorin flowers, but isn’t three copper still a bit much for how much they had?” Rina asked. “If I’d been buying from a street stall, I wouldn’t have settled for paying anything more than one copper.”

As it turned out, Rina kept her purse strings surprisingly tight. Then again, she had said that she’d struggled to even scrimp up enough for lodgings when she’d first started out as an adventurer, so perhaps it was a habit from back then.

Incidentally, zima herbs prevented wounds from festering, while poltorin flowers had multiple uses, including as an ingredient in perfume. But while both had a broad range of applications, they were available in relatively large quantities in this region—hence their low market price.

“You might be right about that,” Dorothea said, answering Rina’s question. “But I can fetch two silver for these if I go to the royal capital.”

“That amount would include the labor cost of you making that whole journey though, wouldn’t it?” Rina asked. “It doesn’t mean there’s any particular reason to buy them here at a higher price.”

“Of course there’s a reason. If I were buying from adults, I would buy them at the market price too. But I wanted to teach those children about the value of money, as well as the joy of commerce...and also, give them a little pocket change to spend. Even in a small village like this, there are times when it’s better to spend money than barter.”

“The joy of commerce... Is that why you’re a merchant, Dorothea?”

“In a sense it is, I suppose. If these children learn from a young age that obtaining items of worth will allow them to sell them for a higher price later, that will help to develop their eye for value. For example, the zima herbs and poltorin flowers they sold me just now were plants I asked about the last time I came to this village—I wanted to know if they grew around here. The children remembered that, looked for them, and picked them for me.”

“What good kids.”

“Right? But they didn’t pick them because they were good children—they did it because they knew they could be exchanged for money. When they grow up, there will come a time when they’ll have to think about the value of the crops and produce they grow and discern which will fetch them a higher profit.”

“I guess you’re right. Most crops in smaller villages are grown for consumption, but now they might consider growing herbs and other plants that they can sell for higher prices.”

“Yes, exactly—commodities. That’s not something that you can do just anywhere, but this region does have a lot of flora that’s unique to it. Some of those are materials I want too, so sometimes I suggest the idea to the adults...but as you might expect, they’re rather stubborn. Even if I tell them they can sell a new kind of produce, they keep on clinging to the same crops and methods they grew up with. But if I plant the idea in these children while they’re young, maybe it’ll bear fruit one day.”

“You have a habit of planning for the really long term, don’t you...?” What Dorothea was suggesting would require years, if not decades, to show any results. Nevertheless, if it really did end up working, then perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea from a long-term perspective.

Maalt and its surroundings abounded with all kinds of plants, including ones with unique properties and highly effective medicinal herbs that couldn’t grow anywhere else. Much of what was out there still hadn’t even been discovered yet, and there was no doubt that useful specimens were included among that number.

If such plants could be cultivated in large quantities and harvested, it was not beyond the realm of impossibility to make a vast fortune almost overnight. Such a feat was easier said than done, of course, and about as reliable as trying to win the lottery, but merchants were people who lived a life of drawing lots every day—and that was especially true for traveling merchants and peddlers.

In addition, while Dorothea’s plan was a long-term investment, it also didn’t require much capital to set into motion. She lost nothing from putting in the effort.

Furthermore...

“Miss Dorothea! Can we see what you have?!”

Upon setting up a wooden stand in front of the wagon and laying out a number of goods atop it, a continual stream of villagers stopped by to make purchases. Included among them were girls and boys of a similar age to the children who had just sold Dorothea their herbs, clutching copper coins in their hands.

Since Rina was originally nobility, she had received a certain degree of education and was capable of doing the kinds of calculations necessary for the purchase and sale of goods. Once Dorothea had discovered this, she’d asked Rina to help with sales.

Although Dorothea had offered an increase in pay for the extra work, Rina had just thanked the merchant for her kindness and declined, saying that it basically counted as part of her bodyguard work.

“When you have the opportunity to squeeze a profit, you should,” Dorothea had teased her.

“Well, if I go too far, it’d just leave the other person with a grudge,” Rina replied. “I’d rather avoid that. Moderation is important in all things, right?”

“I...suppose that’s true as well.”

“That’s exactly why you didn’t press too hard about the deal earlier, isn’t it?”

Rina was referring to the trade that Dorothea had negotiated with the mayor earlier in the day. While she had been purchasing some grain from the village, she’d noticed that the scales had been tampered with and pointed it out in a roundabout way in order to get him to correct it. Specifically, it had been the scale’s strings and measurement markings that had been altered—both extremely fine and delicate parts—so Rina had been impressed that Dorothea was even able to notice.

That wasn’t all: Dorothea had also purchased a number of wine casks, but the amounts inside the casks had been misreported. Upon opening them to check the contents, they had discovered impurities had been added to the wine to make the casks seem fuller than they were.

While Rina’s monster senses had allowed her to smell the guilty consciences of the mayor and the village’s treasurer as soon as she’d entered the room, she hadn’t been able to discern exactly what they were hiding. It was only when Dorothea pointed out that they had misrepresented the wheat and wine that she had finally understood.

“Something along those lines,” Dorothea said. “That kind of thing happens every day, so...”

“But just like you told the mayor earlier, tampering with the scales like that is seriously illegal,” Rina replied. “Are you sure it was okay to just let them be?”

A village’s produce scales were supposed to be strictly managed, and tampering with them was a grievous crime. Since these measurements were the basis of a country’s economy, any foul play could result in serious negative effects. It wasn’t even unheard of for the perpetrator of such an act to be sentenced to the hangman’s noose—hence Rina’s concerns that letting the village off without consequences might be a bad idea.

Even just taking the wine into account, the capacity of casks was also usually specified and regulated. Even measurement errors as small as failing to account for evaporation, or the “angels’ share,” were not acceptable.

“The people in villages like this don’t really grasp that idea too well. Part of why I discussed that with the mayor earlier was because I wanted to explain to him just how big of a risk they were taking. I don’t think they’ll do it again. So while I’m not exactly forgiving them, there’s also no point in dragging a retinue of soldiers out here to dole out punishment, right? That wouldn’t benefit anybody.”

“Hmm...I guess that’s what you’d call a ‘gray area,’ huh?”

“Ah ha ha! I suppose so. If they try again, I’ll have to think about what to do—but for the time being, we just need to wait and see.”

Dorothea was much more adaptable as a merchant than Rina had thought—and that realization only strengthened Rina’s conviction that most of the troubles Dorothea had faced until now were the result of somebody else’s intentional interference.

On that note, it seemed that the “somebody” in question had fallen for Rina’s trap. One of her monstrous skills was the ability to sense the location of someone she had bitten to a certain degree—and over rather long distances too. Right now, she could tell that Guster was now in an entirely different place from the cell he had been in earlier.

In fact, he was approaching Rina’s location...

Well, Dorothea was seeing to her own work. It seemed as though it was about time for Rina to see to hers.

◆◇◆◇◆

“There are talks of arranging a marriage for you.”

When my father summoned me to his study and abruptly told me of the news, I, Dieg Esol, second son of the Esol family, thought I had been granted a new lease on life.

As for why I’d thought that, it was because the marriage in question was not to the daughter of just some small-time merchant. Instead, I was going to marry the daughter of the head of the Merrow company, which vied for the position of the largest firm in the city of Mystera.

Their main competition was, of course, my family’s business: the Esol company. And as for who currently held the superior position, it wouldn’t have been inaccurate to say it was us.

Nevertheless, the future was never certain. Considering the question of overall trends, then compared to my family—which was a long-standing business of great age in Mystera—the relatively new rising star that was the Merrow company definitely had the edge. I knew that my father had been worrying that they would overtake us for quite some time now.

And now, he was telling me to marry our business rival’s daughter.

That would only mean one single thing: I would have the final say over the trade competition that was playing out in this city of Mystera.

I was shocked—truly shocked. Never in my entire life had I been granted such a golden opportunity. My misfortune in that regard was not tempered by having been born the son of a major merchant—because I was in fact the second son. It was my older brother who would one day inherit everything.

If my brother had been less able than me, then perhaps that would have been salvation of a kind. I could well imagine a world in which I gladly assisted him as his right hand or advisor—a world in which I was allowed a faint sense of superiority which would nevertheless be overshadowed by our unbreakable brotherly bond.

However, the reality was that my brother was a hundred times more talented than me, and there was no field in which I was his match—including as a merchant.

Under our father’s guidance, my brother had steadily accumulated knowledge and competency, and in what felt like the blink of an eye he was already attracting major clients and partners on his own merit. Our employees adored him, and he was always kind to me, his younger brother... In a sense, he was the ideal sibling.

That was exactly why I detested him.

If only fate had at least been kind enough to make me a complete incompetent, I believed that I would have simply bowed my head and obediently followed my brother as he charted his course. However, the sad truth was that I too had a talent for being a merchant, meager as it was. Though I was slower than my brother by several years and my results never matched his, the work I did for our company was rated highly in its own right, and I’d managed to climb to a vital position in our business through my own ability rather than the influence of my father.

Perhaps it would have been better if I had failed.

Regardless, it was because of my success that I found myself unable to ignore the greatest obstacle to my ascension: my brother.

If only he did not exist, I would have been able to inherit our family’s company.

That singular thought hung over me constantly, pressing down upon my shoulders. Anyone would call it a foolish thought. They would laugh and declare it was absurd. I would have said the same. Truly.

Yet I was not a spectator to my life but an actor in it...and I could not shake the dark emotions that clouded my vision. As the years went by, my resolve to eliminate my brother—by any means possible—only hardened. I was convinced that, since I knew my brother and father’s plans better than anyone, I was capable of it.

Then, on the very brink of putting my plans into action, my father informed me of my arranged marriage.

I saw this as salvation. I, who had resolved to murder my own family, had been given a second chance. Even I, the most irredeemable son in the world and the most foolish brother of all, still possessed the vestiges of a human heart within me. I had retained enough emotion that, if it were possible, I did not wish to lay a hand on my own flesh and blood.

If I were not held in the clutches of my own good-for-nothing greed, I would want to stand side by side with my brother and father as we brought our company to greater heights. I detested my brother, but I also loved him. That was why leaving our business to take the helm of an equally matched company would be my salvation.

And yet...

“I’m sorry, young Dieg. I couldn’t stop her. My daughter...ran away to be a traveling merchant.”

The Merrow Company’s director bowed to me as he apologized. Beside him, my father looked as though he did not know how to handle the situation. After some thought, however, he addressed the Merrow Company’s director.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done, I suppose,” he said. “Much needs to line up for an arranged marriage to occur.” He turned to me. “Dieg...it’s unfortunate, but such is life.”

My father placed a hand on my shoulder. I could feel the kindness and comfort that he was trying to convey. The Merrow Company’s director looked truly apologetic too—I could see it in his eyes.

I myself agreed with my father; there was nothing to be done. Such was life.

According to the Merrow Company’s director, his daughter had left stating that she wished to become a traveling merchant. Though he had planned to gradually instruct her in preparation for inheriting their company, she had apparently possessed a more adventurous spirit than he’d realized. Hence why she had left: she had wanted to test her own ability.

I understood her feelings well. I imagined that the dark emotions I bore toward my brother and the wish I had to leave were felt by her too, though hers must have been directed toward her father. If she had remained in her father’s company, she would never have been able to step out of his shadow. Thus, she had mustered her courage and left.

She had managed what I was not capable of doing. I had only managed to step forward into the unknown after my father had suggested the possibility, guaranteed that my current position would be maintained, and laid the groundwork for my future opportunities. Anything less certain I had not possessed the courage for.

As such, respect welled up within me for the director of the Merrow Company’s daughter.

“There’s no need to apologize,” I told him. “While it is unfortunate that your daughter and I will not be able to marry, I greatly admire her courage in discarding her status as the heir of a major company to make a name for herself on her own merits. I have no intention of dishonoring that resolve with a minor thing such as a betrothal to my undeserving self. So please, consider this matter settled. And, if I may be so forward, I pray that your daughter finds success in the path she has chosen.”

“You are a fine young gentleman indeed, young Dieg,” the Merrow Company director replied. “I had looked forward to you marrying my daughter and inheriting my business with her. I truly am sorry.”

He bowed deep and low.

It was only afterward that I realized that it might have been for the best if I had requested that both directors allow me to quit the Esol Company and begin anew as an employee of the Merrow Company.

However, now it was too late. During the year and a half that had passed, the director of the Merrow Company was blessed with a son. The gap between the siblings’ ages was only a possibility because of his mother: she was the director’s second—and younger—wife.

Naturally, his birth meant that the matter of the Merrow Company’s succession was set in stone.

I was at peace with that. Though there might have been a future where I was that successor, the opportunity was already in the past. The possibility no longer existed, so it would only be a waste of effort to feel envy. In any case, most of the cruel emotions within me had been washed away when I’d seen my father and the Merrow Company director look truly apologetic from the bottom of their hearts.

Yet...for a reason I knew not, darkness once again began to stain my heart.

When had it started? No matter how hard I tried to remember, the fog wouldn’t clear. What did come to mind, however, was the image of Amapola, the woman currently by my side.

Amapola was a traveling mage who served as my right-hand woman...but when had we begun working together again? As hard as I tried to remember, the answer continued to elude me.

Regardless, she, the failed bandit Guster, and I were currently on the trail of the daughter of the Merrow Company’s director: Dorothea.

I was convinced that if I could only force her to retire from the traveling merchant life, she would return to Mystera and become betrothed to me, whereupon I would inherit the Merrow Company. But...no, that was ridiculous. I couldn’t do tha—

My head hurt terribly.

I...I... What happened to me?