The morning breeze carried a faint chill as the newly risen sun cast white light over the earth. Warmth and cold intertwined in a single breath. I tugged my thin coat tighter and glanced at the black-haired youth beside me.
"Is this the mercenary guild you mentioned?"
Before us stood a towering building. Its stern stone-gray gates exuded solemnity. A banner hung high beside them, bearing the intertwined symbols of shield and spear. The dawn wind gently lifted the gray fabric. The stone steps, worn smooth by countless footsteps, led upward where a squad of iron-armored figures marched inside.
After waking and eating the breakfast brought by the maid, we’d located Bluewater City’s mercenary guild branch.
Eunice nodded in confirmation. Just as we stepped forward, a raspy voice cut through the air from nearby.
"The Imperial Mercenary Association—officially named the O’Crait Mercenary Management Council—bears the name of its founder. O’Crait Kaimos: Legendary mercenary, one of the twenty-four generals under the founding emperor, the Roaring Thunder himself. The shield and spear symbolize defense and conquest. This is indeed Bluewater City’s branch."
I turned toward the voice. A man in a crisp uniform stood at the base of the steps, his deep gray curls catching the light. He gazed up at the fluttering banner, flanked by hulking guards standing as still as statues.
My heart lurched. Karolio of the Sword and Axe Mercenary Corps? How was he here?
I’d seen this man before. He’d led his troops to annihilate the Silver Wolf Mercenary Corps on Bluewater’s outskirts. His brother Enri was likely part of the Sword and Axe’s Third Division.
Had they not left the city yet?
"Captain… are we really walking in like this?"
Beside Karolio stood a hesitant youth. His eyes flickered with unease as he looked at his leader.
"Welly," Karolio’s voice turned icy, "we’re here to claim Silver Wolf’s territory. If fear still grips you, return to your village. Tend your withered fields with your aging parents."
"I—I won’t go back. I’ll follow you, Captain…"
"Oh? Changed your mind? With your Silverbright-tier strength, those barren fields should yield a fine harvest. Farming won’t make you tremble like this."
"I’m not afraid. Just… concerned."
"Concerned?" Karolio’s rasp sliced like a demon’s whisper. "That those fools will retaliate over lost partners and profits? Perhaps. But the Sword and Axe will teach them Silver Wolf was a poor choice. From now on, we’ll dominate the mercenary world."
Sword at his hip, Karolio ascended the steps. His group vanished through the gates. As they disappeared inside, I noticed the gate guards flinch.
"Today’s guild won’t be peaceful," Eunice remarked flatly. "But it’s none of our concern. Let’s go, Krein. We need to secure a commission early."
I nodded. Inside, the hall stretched wide with service counters and orderly queues. Mercenaries moved quietly through the space, voices hushed.
Order reigned—no chaotic brawls as I’d imagined. The guild clearly enforced its own rules.
No sign of the Sword and Axe remained; they’d likely gone upstairs.
At the quest board on the right, most postings were one or two-star commissions. The highest visible was merely four stars.
Quests peaked at seven stars. Higher tiers meant richer rewards.
Bluewater City, a border town, couldn’t compare to the empire’s heartlands. Commissions above four stars were absent. Five-star tasks required Crowned Apex experts. Seven-star quests rarely appeared—and even then, few dared accept them. Such missions demanded either overwhelming individual power or alliances of mighty factions.
Eunice, a Radiant-tier freelancer, selected a four-star commission. For her strength, it should pose little challenge.
She filled the task card with the name "Aranthien." Mercenary identities were often secondary; many used aliases to hide their pasts.
After accepting the quest, Eunice posted a three-star commission herself: gathering magical ingredients for Revival Elixir. The reward? Three hundred gold coins—a substantial sum.
The poster bore the name "Miroa Aranxiene," written by my hand. I’d also added our address. This was why Eunice had dragged me here—I’d wanted to practice magic in my room, but her insistence was unyielding.
"Today, you won’t accompany me."
We stepped back into the street. The morning chill had already faded. Eunice walked beside me, her voice sudden in the quiet avenue.
"Why?" I stopped, facing her. "Is this four-star commission dangerous?"
I still hadn’t read the details.
Eunice nodded, handing me the task card. "Danger is only part of it."
I skimmed the parchment.
The client: Lady Mafalina. The task: a Radiant-tier expert must retrieve an old chest from her grandfather’s abandoned manor on Bluewater’s outskirts. The basement held the prize.
A note warned that the decades-deserted estate was now infested with level-three beasts, led by a level-four alpha. Intruders would be attacked on sight. Dozens of low-tier mercenaries had already died there, lured by the reward: five hundred gold coins and Viper’s Fang—a first-grade Blessed Weapon.
The dagger was lethally sharp, its blade coated in blood-corrupting venom. A single scratch meant death within minutes. It also granted slight attack speed, as if the wind itself aided its wielder. An assassin’s dream.
Yet as a low-grade Blessed Weapon, it had flaws. Its venom couldn’t touch Radiant-tier experts. Their bodies automatically purged toxins the moment they were detected.
That was why the Bluebloom Elixir had failed against Rosalynd. Even in sleep, her defenses had activated instinctively.
