Chapter 101. Mithril Adventurer Party (2)
It had already been 14 hours since they entered Sloan Forest.
By now, even if they used flight, there was little chance of being spotted by the kingdom's soldiers, but the one in charge of the group was the adventurer party Manha, and the leader was Skald.
Since the contracted period was at least two days, there was no need to hurry.
They took breaks here and there, eating simple meals, yet even in winter, their bodies burned with heat. Occasionally, Skald, who kept an eye on Verden's movements, approached and asked.
"Are you all right, Asher? You look fine, so we've been on the move for quite some time, but for a mage..."
"No problem."
Verden answered honestly.
Marching for half a day was hardly enough to wear out his stamina. At his truly composed appearance, Vermin couldn't help but clap.
"Impressive, Mr. Asher. If it were our mage, he'd have thrown down his bedroll and gone to sleep hours ago. Isn't that right, Rubina?"
"Who's arguing?"
"Now, enough bad-mouthing Geltone for breaking the promise. We've made more progress than expected, so by tomorrow, we should reach the deeper parts. Therefore, let's set camp in two hours."
The adventure continued.
From time to time, the cries of demi-humans or magical beasts could be heard, or their presence was felt, but no clashes occurred. They too sensed it—if they tried to hunt this group, they'd be the ones hunted instead.
At last, the day waned, and they found a suitable clearing.
Normally, Vermin and Rubina would prepare dinner, while the others set up tents or kept watch, but this time, Verden was with them.
Using telekinesis, Verden moved five tents and set them down in an instant.
This level of calculation and control was as easy as moving his own hands. With a snap of his fingers, he lit the campfire.
Vermin covered his mouth with his hands in awe.
"Is this what a real mage is?"
Too convenient.
Compared to Geltone, who couldn't even light a fire and only obsessed over ice and water magic, this was on a completely different level in terms of practicality. Within this unexpected comfort, dinner was prepared.
As if to prove their Mithril rank, they dined on beef stew made from the finest ingredients. Vermin served each person a bowl.
Verden set the stew in front of him.
He suddenly remembered the stew he had eaten with Iris and her group when they went to subjugate the undead in Viron Territory. It had been quite tasty.
Verden put a piece of meat in his mouth.
'This is better.'
As they enjoyed their late supper, conversation naturally began. Idle chatter between adventurers. Though Verden was an outsider, listening was entertaining enough.
Having gone for seconds, Skald turned toward Verden.
"How is it? Does it suit your taste?"
"It's delicious."
The one responsible for cooking, Vermin, shrugged proudly.
"Haha, of course, of course. I've been an adventurer for years, but when it comes to stew, I make it to perfection."
"You only prepared the ingredients."
"That's the secret of flavor."
Even under Rubina's glare, Vermin was unfazed.
"But seeing Asher eating silently by himself feels a little odd. So, is there anything you'd like to ask us? Even something simple?"
Something he was curious about.
After thinking a moment, Verden asked Kedian.
"Is it all right for a priest to be an adventurer?"
"I was granted the title of Cleric by the Church of Luas, so it is permitted. As a priest of Luas, I officially hold the qualification to take part in external, profit-making activities."
"In exchange, I pay brokerage fees to the Adventurer Guild periodically, and I make 'donations' to the Church of Luas. Of course, it's never wasted."
The presence of a priest alone changed a party's survival rate.
That this group had reached Mithril rank as a unit was due not only to strength, but to stability. The Adventurer Guild favored long-lasting adventurers like these, granting extra points during rank evaluations. Various conveniences were simply a bonus.
No matter how the world had changed, death still came easily and often.
"A long and steady life. It doesn't suit the image of an adventurer at all, but that's our dream. To retire when our bodies creak, and live leisurely with a family, sustained by the money we've saved. Or live comfortably collecting steady pay from the Guild."
It was no grand dream.
It was the kind of ordinary future most adventurers hoped for.
"Dreams change with time. When I was ignorant, I wanted to become an Obsidian-ranked adventurer alone and rule the world. But as I aged, I realized, ah, at this rate I'd soon be dead. So I formed a party."
In order, Vermin, Rubina, Geltone, and Kedian.
They didn't fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces, but precisely because of that, they grew. After years of building achievements as Platinum rank and passing the evaluation, they had risen to Mithril rank.
Rubina spoke.
"We originally worked in the Empire, but later moved here. The Kingdom has vast lands, and dangerous demi-humans or abnormal species appear relatively often, as they do now."
"Well, to be honest, the Kingdom of Estiria is a mess. It looks fine on the outside, but peek just a little beneath the surface, and it's rotten through. Power struggles, factional divides, land grabs. Still, thankfully, once you're Mithril rank, few bother you. So we can work in relative peace."
The second-highest rank in the Adventurer Guild.
Even the most reckless noble, unless their brains were half-smashed, wouldn't dare antagonize an active Mithril rank adventurer.
They'd only lose more than they gained.
Skald asked Verden.
"Asher, do you have a dream? Since you're a mage, is it to become a magus like Geltone?"
To call "magus" a dream was modest. At least, for Verden it was.
His true purpose was to surpass the pinnacle of the Magic Tower—the 7th-tier magus. Of course, he had no intention of telling others that.
"Well, yes."
"I see. Asher, you look much younger than Geltone, so you'll surely live longer. You'll certainly reach it."
It wasn't that he merely looked young—he was young.
Even after the year turned, he'd be only 26. There was no need to reveal his age and draw attention. What mattered to Verden was not being outstanding for his years, but being outstanding as a mage.
The conversation continued.
Verden also chimed in, giving responses.
Time passed, and the shadows of night deepened.
***
"Asher, you'll take the first watch."
"Will that be all right?"
"Of course. Honestly, at our level, we could go without sleep for several days without a problem. And since mages are more affected by condition than warriors, their watch is always fixed to the first or last shift."
Concession.
Perhaps that was the means by which the party maintained balance.
"Understood."
"Then I'll trust you with it."
As soon as Manha's party members lay down, they immediately fell asleep. Being able to sleep anywhere, anytime, was also part of an adventurer's ability.
But the moment they sensed even a trace of killing intent, they would instantly awaken and enter battle formation. Standing watch was only to prepare for the worst. Even if all of them were asleep, it would be difficult to fool their senses.
Crackle, crackle.
Verden sat before the campfire.
Feeling its warm heat, he recalled his conversation with Skald.
'A dream.'
Verden's dream was revenge.
That had never changed, not in the past nor in the present. Even if he were to die along the way, even if his body were crushed alive, he had no thought of ever giving it up.
But then a thought struck him.
'After I take my revenge... what am I supposed to do?'
The fire before his eyes blazed.
But without fuel to burn, it would die out before morning. Afterward, only traces would remain.
And Verden would be no different.
...At once, Verden shook his head.
'I have no right to think so far ahead into the future.'
It had not even been a year since he achieved Defying the Heavens.
Some might call him a genius, but to Verden, it was far from enough. He was merely a 4th-tier. The road ahead was still long and arduous.
It was too soon to turn his eyes elsewhere.
Think.
Of the hellish time endured in the Magic Tower.
When he had been poisoned with countless experimental drugs, living as if on borrowed time.
A life stripped of freedom, treated like an object.
A past where all dignity, both as a mage and as a human, had been trampled.
That first moment, when he carved hatred and fury deep into his heart at the crossroads of life and death.
The pain, the helplessness, the despair.
The sensations he had briefly forgotten wrapped around his body once again.
Verden's eyes flushed with blood as he clenched his teeth hard.
His nails dug into his palms, blood dripping down. He barely kept his killing intent suppressed, so the others would not wake.
Excitement, mixed with hatred and fury.
Yes, this was the emotion Verden had to hold. He had no room to think of a distant future. Though he would never show it outwardly, inside, he must always maintain this state of mind.
Because this was the only force that drove him forward.
"Hoo...."
As he let out a deep breath, strength slowly drained from his body.
The twisted expression returned to normal. He pulled out a top-grade potion from his spatial bag, dropped a few drops into his palm, and together with the effect of the Recovery bracelet, it healed at once.
After fully washing away the blood, he quietly continued his watch.
Then, at that moment.
[...Creak.]
A strange sound echoed somewhere in the forest.
Verden reacted instantly, spreading mana detection deep into the woods. He awakened all his senses, raising his vigilance to the extreme.
'...And yet it vanished?'
Verden's reaction had been swift.
But he found nothing. Only the sound of grass rustling, or insects crying. Perhaps he had simply overreacted.
But he would not dismiss it.
It was also time to wake the next watch. He walked over to Skald and tapped him on the shoulder. The man rose to his feet.
"Mm, good sleep. You've worked hard, Asher. Well, nothing happened?"
"I heard something strange."
"A sound?"
Skald's face turned serious.
When Verden explained what he had heard, Skald nodded slowly.
"Most often it's just a mistake, and usually it turns out to be nothing, but sometimes it is not. And in those cases, the chance of a party being wiped out is very high. I'll make sure to pass it on as the watch continues."
Skald caressed his double-bladed axe.
For one who had lived so long as an adventurer, nothing was ever taken lightly. That was one of the secrets to surviving so long without serious injury.
The night deepened.
Something hidden in the darkness still watched them.
Until the next day.
[Creak, creak.]
***
By noon the next day, they finally reached the deeper part of Sloan Forest.
The trees grew taller, the gaps between them wider. It was the perfect environment for large magical beasts or demi-humans to dwell.
"A perfect environment for an ambush."
Vermin and Skald took the front, forming a formation that encircled Verden and Kedian at the rear. Rubina, tasked with scouting, moved swiftly, searching for traces of their target.
Without a running start, she leapt high into the trees.
Broken branches. Deep claw marks, sharp and enormous, gouged into the trunk.
"It's a Forest Wyvern. Judging from the thinnest claw being thicker than Skald's thigh, this one's a big one, even among leaders."
"Jackpot. Everyone, battle positions."
Forest Wyverns were meticulous about territory, always leaving marks near their habitat.
Once intruders crossed that line, the Forest Wyverns would catch their scent and charge, baring their fangs.
Verden could erase their scent with magic.
But Skald did not. Better to face them grouped together than chase scattered ones. It wasn't arrogance, but confidence forged from experience.
Before long, shadows appeared ahead.
[Kiiiiirrrrk...!]
Forest Wyverns.
Ten in total, including the leader. A large number, but still within acceptable range. Drooling, they bared their teeth and charged head-on.
Including Verden, everyone stood their ground and kept formation.
Rubina, already perched in the trees, drew her bowstring.
A red aura surged, seeping into the arrow.
"One to start with."
Piiing──── Crack!
A wyvern's head was pierced, its corpse tangling with the rest, plunging the forest into chaos. Skald gripped his axe in both hands, bracing his legs.
The ground cracked under the pressure.
"Now!"
Boom!
His charge marked the beginning of the subjugation.