He drew the weapon from his waist.
Bensek took out a carefully prepared maintenance oil and began meticulously applying it to the blade.
This was his livelihood, and also the most valuable item he owned.
Seeing his actions, his teammates followed suit and began tending to their own weapons.
Smack!
Slapping away a hand that tried to sneak a bit of his oil, Bensek calmly ordered the others, "Don't all gather here. Leave two on watch."
A teenage boy in the group casually pointed at a few people keeping watch nearby and said with a grin, "What's there to worry about? Isn't the caravan's escort on guard duty for us?"
Bensek glanced at the caravan's guards and shook his head. "Maybe. But I'd rather trust our own people."
The young man grumbled in dissatisfaction, "Boss, you're being way too cautious."
The older man beside him smacked the back of his head. "Nonsense. In this line of work, those who aren't cautious end up dead real quick. Just follow orders, and if you keep running your mouth, we're leaving you behind next time."
Faced with such a heavy-handed threat, the boy immediately clammed up.
In this world, a commoner like him couldn't easily travel far from home to see the wider world.
After all, the journey was filled with risks and expenses—not something easily brushed aside.
It was only because his uncle was an official member of this mercenary squad that he got the occasional chance to tag along.
This alone made his friends envious beyond belief.
Looking at the boy trudging away with his head down, a defeated look on his face, even the stern expression on Bensek's face softened with a faint smile. He turned to the man who had smacked the boy and asked, "Huck, didn't your nephew recently go for a profession aptitude test? How'd it turn out?"
"Not bad—Mid-rank aptitude!"
Though the man tried to sound casual, his tone was clearly brimming with pride, as if his nephew had topped the imperial exams.
Bensek laughed aloud. "Mid-rank? That's really something to be proud of."
In this world, a mid-rank aptitude meant that with steady training, one could become a Rank 5 or Rank 6 Mage or warrior without much trouble. Even greater achievements weren't out of reach.
For a commoner, that essentially meant a life free of hardship.
With a bit more luck, they might even rise to high-rank status and land an official post in a kingdom—not an impossible dream at all.
"Oh, it's just the aptitude for now. Once he finishes his basic training, I'll still need to help him earn the money for his class change…"
Seeing the pride he could barely suppress, Bensek nodded and reminded him, "Then make sure you keep an eye on him. No more slacking off."
"Got it."
Huck responded and then, glancing meaningfully at a nearby wagon, muttered, "I have a feeling this client is hiding something from us. Might turn into a real pain…"
Bensek didn't say anything, simply nodding in quiet agreement.
After finishing his weapon maintenance, he slowly answered, "I feel the same. But in our line of work, there's no such thing as zero risk. You never know what kind of mess you'll run into. As long as the pay is good, even if you spot red flags, you grit your teeth and deal with it. Giving up the mission is always the last resort."
The man beside him didn't argue, clearly agreeing with the sentiment, though his expression grew a bit more somber and he let out a quiet sigh.
He was a Rank 3 warrior, while Bensek was a Rank 5. Though their quality of life far surpassed that of commoners, they still often found themselves caught in situations beyond their control in pursuit of better pay.
Bensek sheathed his weapon and was about to stand up to fetch his water flask when something in the sky caught the edge of his vision—a white dot.
Years of caution instantly kicked in. He placed his hand on his weapon. His companions, not sure what was happening, immediately followed his lead and grabbed their weapons as well.
One of them didn't even hesitate, dropping to the ground and rolling a few times before positioning himself back-to-back with a teammate—ready to avoid an ambush.
Then, following Bensek's gaze, they looked to the sky.
High above, several hundred meters in the air, a massive white bird was silently circling.
And that kind of behavior usually indicated a degree of predatory intent.
After analyzing its features for a moment, Bensek's expression grew serious—but also somewhat pleased. "Cloudwing Roc. Judging by its size, it's a mature adult. Strength should be around Rank 4 to Rank 6. Everyone stay sharp."
The others, who had been confused by the squad's reaction, finally realized the danger and quickly looked for nearby cover.
Though everyone knew such hiding spots offered little protection against magical beasts, psychologically they still felt safer, and so they flocked to them anyway.
The caravan's hired guards, realizing the threat, also drew their weapons, preparing to fend off an attack from the Cloudwing Roc.
What the regular passengers didn't know was that these guards, much like Bensek's group, were feeling both nervous and excited.
Because while the beast was dangerous, it was still within their capabilities.
If they could join forces and take it down, by the usual mercenary rules, they could sell the corpse of the Cloudwing Roc and split the profits—a sum that might even exceed their pay for the escort mission.
This kind of monster was a lucrative random bonus. Risky, yes—but very tempting!
In that moment, every capable fighter had their weapons at the ready, gazing up at the sky as if staring at a juicy, flying prize.
That burning gaze made the Cloudwing Roc, which had been about to dive, suddenly hesitate.
'What's with these guys' eyes? They seem... off?'
With the intelligence of a six- or seven-year-old child, the Roc could sense that something wasn't quite right.
Just as it was about to reconsider its approach, a powerful sense of danger suddenly gripped it.
With a sharp, piercing screech, it cried out across the sky.
Those below mistook this for the signal of an imminent attack and instinctively tightened their grip on their weapons.
The next moment—
Right before their eyes, the Cloudwing Roc vanished from sight.
Bensek, experienced as he was, immediately sensed the brief ripple in space and was stunned.
'What?! Spatial ability!'
'That Roc has spatial abilities—it's a mutated variant!!'
His heart began pounding, and he prepared himself for a spatial ambush with full alertness.
But after several tense seconds, no movement came. No sounds, no attack.
Bensek, ready for casualties, began to feel... confused.
'Where'd it go? Could it really have the ability to stay hidden in an alternate space for extended periods?'
No one noticed a short distance away, Orsaga was chewing on something, watching them with an expression that clearly said, "Idiots."
'Tastes good. Wild meat really is full of vitality…'
He hadn't acted out of kindness or any desire to save them.
He simply didn't want a bunch of weaklings messing up his wagon during a fight. Plus, it had been a while since he'd had fresh blood. So, he figured—why not?
__
T/N:
Hello everyone! My Patreon is just $3 — a perfect opportunity to access 70+ advanced chapters and support the translation.
🔗 patreon.com/user?u=79514336
Or simply search Translator-Sama on Patreon