"You want me to fucking WHAT?"
Corvis smiled and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup.
"I jest, of course, though that is only a half-truth. Robert does have a bounty on his head, a rather substantial one at that. Though of course, he has a small army at his beck and call, so nobody can take him down, not even us. But perhaps a lone mercenary, someone who is notorious enough to get close to him and sly enough to escape alive? That's another story."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT! Why in the name of the saints would you want him dead? Isn't he your equal?"
"No. Let me spell it out for you, dear boy. One day, this war will end, and Vilta will seek to establish law and order in the Black Lands once again. Do you think someone like Robert Black Hand will give up the power he's built so easily?"
"Would you?"
"Of course! My Uncle is the honorary duke of this state, and with no real ruler in sight, he will be appointed to bring order to this land, and I will happily give it to him. As family, of course, I would also receive certain… benefits."
"Your uncle is the Duke?"
"Yes, Henri Dericourt of Vilta. Duke of the Black Lands. When he arrives after the war ends, there will be civil war again between the Viltin army and the Black Hand, if Robert is dealt with before that, however. The Ravens can expand their influence through the state and be the sole governing body, then the transition of power will be seamless and without needless bloodshed."
"So you want me to kill your rival so you can take his territory?"
"Something of the sort, yes. If that's how you want to see it. If you're actually interested, I will leave the option open to you at any time. No formal signing, no declaration of a contract. If you happen to see him and kill him and return to me. I will ensure you are paid well."
"You give the same speech to every young guy who can kill?"
"I give the same speech to every young guy who shows promise. At least I used to, but all of them died. But you, you're a cut above the rest.
"I'll think about it."
"Good!" Corvis said with a clap. "Then, I recommend you try a few more bounties while we wait for the festival of Gorna's death. If you can prove this wasn't a one-off fluke, then I might be inclined to show you the hidden bounties. And on the other hand, you would be building notoriety in the town, and it would give me more things to credit you for on stage all at once. You'll go from most wanted to a praised hero in an instant. Now doesn't that sound nice?"
I wanted to refute him, to say that I was only doing this all out of necessity to ensure I stop having people trying to assassinate me. But when he asked his question, a small smile curled at the corner of my lips. Fame and praise, things I never thought I would achieve in my lifetime, sounded exciting.
Corvis took note and smiled, clapping his hands once and loudly, startling me for a moment.
"Alright, kid, the news about Goran will spread slowly. It'll be noticed by my mercenaries first when they realise his poster is gone, and then, after a while, the general public will take notice. Only once that's happened, we'll announce the celebration of his death. I would say that'll take a month, give your friend time to recover, and you time to take some solo job if you want. But personal advice, lay low. You've got the money for that now."
With nothing more to discuss, I stood up and took my leave, just as I was about to exit, Corvis called out once more.
"Oh, one last thing, the rest of your payment will be automatically deposited into your bank account as it comes in. If you go to the guild reception, you can get a written statement saying how much you have available."
I nodded and turned my head towards the exit to leave but paused, turning my head back to Corvis as I had just thought of something.
"Would it be possible to send the money somewhere? Say, to a house?"
"Of course. You can talk to the receptionist about that."
"I will"
I left the building and headed straight toward the guild hall. I had been thinking about funds for a while, trying to do the math in my own head. I got quite good at budgeting from being so poor, and the amount of Franks I had owned to me was more than enough. Of course, I could budget it out to last a long time, but there is always more work, and it's work I'm specifically able to do. Besides, there are better uses for it.
As I received the written statement from the receptionist, the same young guy from before, he explained that I had only received about two hundred thousand and that the rest was still waiting to be collected and deposited for me.
"Can I have some of this money sent away to my family?"
"Of course, where to?" He took out a paper and a fountain pen.
"My mother lives on the outskirts of a town called Trydent Wood in the Ironwood Forest. About a twenty-minute walk due west of the town itself, it's a small farm."
"Okay, what's her name?"
"Sera Akame"
"Okay, I can definitely arrange that, it's quite the distance, though, so I would either need to pay a long-distance trader or hire a private transport, but that'll cost a lot more."
"How much more?"
"Maybe ten thousand, but if you did that, it would get there faster and safer."
"Do that then."
"Okay, Private caravan with guards. How much do you want to send? Twenty thousand? Forty?"
"One hundred thousand."
He paused, tilting his head as he shut his eyes tight. He shook his head and flung his eyes open as he whispered under his breath, "Wow".
"Alright, I can certainly arrange that transport for you and have it leaving town in two or three days. Travel time might take a few weeks or more, so double that if you want a response from your mother. Any message you want to pass along?"
"No, and if she asks about me, don't say anything other than…"
"Other than what?"
"I'm doing fine."
I watched as he scrawled the words down on the paper at the bottom. After he finished writing them, he tapped his pen against the paper a few times before tossing it to the side.
"Alright, I can sort that out. I've already thought of a few mercenaries who would take this kind of job for a discounted rate. Is there anything else I can help you with, or is that it?"
"Actually, yes, what bounty has been causing the biggest issue for the citizens of this city?"
Of course, there were plenty of options in the city. From one-off criminals to people with repeated offences, from murderers to arsonists, rapists, to traffickers and the illegally operated slave markets they sold to, as of course, a licensed slaver would never buy a slave without proper paperwork.
So over the course of the next month and a half, I hunted down smaller criminals and took them in alive as much as I could. Nigel was supportive of my actions, but couldn't help since his arm was still healing. The money I got from each bounty was deposited into my account, and every time I finished one, I treated Nigel to a lavish roast dinner.
I started to notice small changes in the town when I took more criminals off the streets. I noticed some stores stayed open into the night, and people walked around after dark and enjoyed themselves. I noticed more children and women unaccompanied by men. People whispered about me when I entered a room, and of course, the biggest question I overheard them gossiping about was, Who was this person? Why is their face hidden all the time?
Before I knew it, it was nearing the month of Michel. As I had been completing bounties, I had also been meeting with Corvis from time to time. News about Goran's death had been spreading throughout the city, and most people assumed I did it, no doubt a result of my recent accomplishments. A celebration had been planned for the first day of the month of Michel. In exactly one week.
For the last eight days of the month, I spent time with Nigel. His arm was healing nicely, and he had started to train with a wooden sword. I would spar with him twice a day, but only for about ten minutes at a time. The impact of our training swords colliding hurt his arm badly, and ten minutes was all he could manage before stopping, lest he do more damage to it as it wasn't fully healed yet.
Though with those ten-minute sparring sessions, I noticed his skill with a blade had increased dramatically. He reacted to my moves so instantly that rather than block with his blade, he could have easily dodged, but rather chose to block it. It was hard to tell at first, but I noticed subtle things, like his footwork or how he positioned his shoulders in the fight.
The day before the festival, we didn't have a sparring fight in the morning like we normally would. Rather, he told me over breakfast that we would have one fight near midday. So I waited for his arrival at the small combat arena behind the inn we were staying at.
When midday came, Nigel arrived, holding in his hands two real blades made of metal.
"What's this? Do you actually want to fight to the death?"
He shook his head and tossed one at me. I reached out and grabbed it by the blade, noticing that it was dull. "I just miss the weight of metal." He said as he climbed over the fence and into the arena.
I climbed into the arena as I watched Nigel leaning against the far fence, stabbing the dull tip of his blade into the dirt as he removed his eyepatch. I looked over to him, confused slightly by what he was doing as he felt around the eye socket.
"Has it healed? It doesn't look too gross?"
I shook my head. "The skin's grown over it now, but why are you taking the eyepatch off?"
"Well, it looks stupid, no? I was thinking about getting a glass eye."
"I think it looks kind of cool on you."
As the months have passed, of course, neither of us has bothered to cut our hair aside from when I did it to myself on the road to Balim. Nigel's hair was longer than mine now, and he wore it in a small ponytail, but the long hair in combination with the eyepatch genuinely looked kind of cool.
He smiled and put the eyepatch back over his eyesocket. "Right, it feels weird with the wind hitting the skin in there anyway." He lifted his sword and pointed it towards me. "Now, I'm not going to hold back this time."
Hold back? Of course, he had been holding back because of his arm. Is that why he only wanted to spar once today, so he could go all out and then recover over the next day or two? Well, if that's what he wants, I'll give it my all.
I raised my sword and lunged at Nigel. With a flick of his wrist, he tapped my sword to the side. Even though it was moving quite fast, he managed to hit it right at the tip, shaving it just enough for it to miss him entirely. As our blades crossed, I shifted my force from a lunge to pushing the blade to the left, towards his head, to make contact and score a point. But he had already shifted his arm to his blade, which was pushing against mine at an angle as it slid towards me. In a blink, the tip of his blade was pressed against my neck.
"I win."
"Wha… what the fuck was that? I've never seen you move like that before."
"Just trying something new. Let's do one more round, come at me with the most underhanded, sneaky attack you can think of."
I took a step back and thought for a moment. If this were a real fight, I wouldn't be using a blade at all; I would use my hands. They're shorter than a blade, so I can position them faster than he can. If I can do that, I will win.
"Alright, ready?"
With a nod from Nigel, I pulled my leg back and kicked at the ground. Kicking up dirt and dust and flinging it towards him to block his vision. As the dust flew in the air, I stepped forward and, with all my might, flung the sword towards him through the dust cloud. I lunged forward, ready to stop if I had actually hurt him with the throw, but one step in, I heard the loud clang of blades colliding. Did he just deflect my throw?
As I stepped through the dust with my arms close to my chest, ready to either block or lunge, I stopped. Nigel was nowhere to be seen. Just then, the dull metal blade crashed into my throat. Striking my throat so hard I collapsed, unable to breathe. Nigel had stepped forward and crouched down, positioning himself literally right in front of and under me. I collapsed to the floor, coughing and struggling to breathe as I felt my throat repair itself rapidly. Even with a training sword, if I were a normal human, I would have died.
Nigel dropped his blade and helped me to my feet, patting my back as I coughed. "Seems I would have won that fight, I never thought I would be able to beat a marked child."
"How the fuck did you do that?"
His smile dropped away instantly, and his expression became serious.
"I don't know, honestly, it kind of weirds me out, but ever since I lost my eye, it's almost like I can predict things. Not just your attacks, either, everything."
"Predict? So you know the future?"
"No, not like that, that would be ridiculous. No, it's like, I can tell how you're going to swing the blade, I can tell when something might get knocked off a counter accidentally, when a loose brick will fall from a roof. I thought I was going crazy, but for the first time, I decided to trust those instincts."
"And this started when you lost your eye?"
"Maybe, I actually don't know. It's been such a slow and gradual thing that it could have started long before that." Suddenly, his face lit up with a smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I have been training with a sword since I was old enough to talk, so maybe it's that, some kind of natural talent that comes to the best swordsmen. Hahahahaaa."
"Maybe it's magic, it might still exist in the world after all."
Nigel smiled and patted me on the back before turning to leave. "Maybe, anyway, we'll celebrate my smashing victory over you tomorrow. Now that I can swing a sword, I want to go shopping."
We waved as he rounded the corner of the building and onto the main road, and I stayed standing in the sparring arena. I walked over to retrieve the blunt sword I had thrown. The only blade on the floor of the arena was the one Nigel dropped before leaving. Looking around, I spotted my blade at the foot of a brick wall, shattered into three pieces. Nigel deflected something I threw that hard? It must have been going faster than an arrow. How was that even possible?