I thought for a moment.

I can’t defeat him.

If I fight, I’ll lose. Defeat means death.

For now, I decided to hear out his offer.

Fortunately, the other party didn’t seem to intend to kill me. The longsword hanging at his waist, still sheathed, was proof of that.

“Are you asking me to join your side?”

“Right. Then I’ll spare you.”

“May I ask one thing?”

“What are you curious about?”

“Are you stronger than a Knight?”

“A Knight?”

“I saw a Knight in armor last time.”

“Who looks stronger?”

“You do.”

“That’s right. I’m stronger. Though a common Knight is probably my limit.”

I looked at the man.

He didn’t seem to be lying. An undeniable sincerity appeared on his face. If that expression was fabricated, it was convincing enough to be believed.

I was shocked.

A Mercenary lives a fleeting life, hired for money. The idea that such a person could be stronger than a Knight, who received proper education and trained in their family’s Swordsmanship, was absurd.

“Your answer?”

“Alright.”

“Is that an acceptance?”

“This is my answer.”

I launched a Water Mass.

He dodged it again.

But it didn’t matter. What was important was that I had created even a small opening.

I turned my head.

I saw a steep slope, almost a sheer cliff. I had to jump down, whether I lived or died. It seemed unlikely that the man would chase me, no matter who he was.

Just then, I felt a pain in the back of my neck. When I regained consciousness, I had collapsed. The man had subdued the protagonist. He was faster than I expected.

My vision blurred.

When I came to, it was night.

The Carriage rattled.

I was loaded into the back of the Carriage like luggage.

My hands and feet wouldn’t move.

I was tied up with ropes. A cloth was stuffed into my mouth. It seemed to be to prevent me from casting spells.

Lorina was also next to me.

She should have gone first. I took too long. Still, we were caught.

It seemed there were more comrades.

It was absurd.

If only I had gone into the Deep Forest, it might have been different.

I never thought I would end up like this Near the Castle. I wished this was all a dream.

I felt guilty.

I was exposed to danger because of the Protagonist. And those with ill intentions appeared. It was the price for trusting my own strength.

I didn’t particularly trust my strength.

I realized it when I first saw the Mercenaries. That it was difficult alone.

Yet, I went to the Forest. The reason was to learn to read.

I was blinded by profit and became greedy.

I had brought danger upon myself. I was pathetic.

If I had been caught alone, it would be one thing. But because Lorina was also caught, I felt even more upset.

I had to think of a way to escape. Even if the Protagonist died, I had to send Lorina back. That was my atonement.

“How many were taken down?”

“Four.”

“Four were killed by that little kid?”

“She was a Mage.”

“A Mage?”

“Unlucky, I guess.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’ll take them for now.”

“Damn it.”

I overheard their conversation.

There were seats like chairs on both sides of the carriage. The mercenaries were sitting there, talking. There were three of them in total.

Judging by the conversation I heard from the front, there seemed to be five people. Including those the Protagonist had eliminated, there were nine mercenaries involved in the kidnapping.

“You didn’t say there was a kid attached.”

“Can’t be helped.”

“Who knew the kid would be a great Mage?”

“It actually turned out for the better.”

“Four are dead, and you say it’s for the better?”

“We’ll have more to share, won’t we?”

“It’s going to be tough getting to the destination.”

“We’ll have to bear it.”

Listening to the mercenaries’ conversation, I learned a few facts.

I had been mistaken.

They had been planning the abduction for a long time.

It seemed someone who held a grudge against the Alchemist had commissioned them.

The mercenaries were pleased.

If they sold the Noble’s daughter, they would have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. It seemed they had decided to retire after this last big score.

The girl was the prey from the beginning.

I thought the Protagonist was the target. That made it even more regrettable.

Now I see there was no need to blame myself.

The mercenaries were scoundrels who had been preparing for a long time, just waiting for an opportunity.

It didn’t matter if they entered the Deep Forest or not. It was bound to happen eventually.

The fact that this incident happened near the castle was proof.

Rael was caught in the crossfire.

Once I understood how the incident occurred, my guilt lessened significantly.

Forest or not, I should have never gotten involved with the girl.

The Alchemist was the root cause. The fallout came from whoever he had angered.

My mind felt at ease.

The situation wasn’t improving. I had to escape.

My head hurt.

If it were a normal mercenary, it would have been manageable. I had dealt with four of them. I just needed to take care of the new ones who appeared.

I was captured because one mercenary was too strong. If I couldn’t deal with him, there seemed to be no solution. Excluding the Handsome Man, there were only four mercenaries. It was manageable.

I had to wait for an opportunity.

It didn’t seem like they would kill the protagonist right away.

The Handsome Man said that mages were valuable. He didn’t care that four of his companions had been killed. Instead, he tried to persuade the protagonist.

The protagonist has value. The opponent wanted the protagonist.

Thinking that way, I felt a little calmer.

My eyes met with a mercenary’s. It was while I was looking around.

It wasn’t the Handsome Man. He was older, with a rough beard on his face.

The mercenary looked forward, in the direction of the coachman’s seat.

“Commander.”

“What?”

“The kid woke up.”

“Oh? I should take a look at his face.”

The carriage stopped.

The mercenaries got out of the carriage. They scattered, each preparing for camp.

I felt like we had moved far away from the castle. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be so relaxed.

‘How long has the beggar been unconscious?’

The throbbing in my head was gone. It was proof that I had slept for a long time. It felt like I had slept for a whole day.

Soon, it was just the Handsome Man and me.

He pulled out the cloth that was stuffed in my mouth.

I coughed. Still, I could breathe freely now.

“Have you thought it through?”

“Thought what through?”

“I told you to join my side.”

“I don’t know.”

“Is that a refusal?”

“It’s a bit sudden.”

The other party offered a way out.

Because the Protagonist was a Mage.

They were troubled.

“What if I refuse?”

“You’ll be sold as a Slave.”

“If I accept…”

“I’ll make you a Noble.”

“A Noble?”

The Handsome Man was a Mercenary.

It was incomprehensible.

How he would make the Protagonist a Noble.

They considered the offer.

There was conflict.

Either be sold as a Slave or become a subordinate.

There were two choices. What to do was obvious.

But neither appealed to them. They couldn’t trust someone who would try to kidnap a Noble’s daughter.

For now, they had to accept.

They thought that was the only way to escape.

They had to genuinely join them. Until their guard was lowered. They finished their thoughts. They nodded.

Since they had joined them, they asked for their hands to be untied.

The Handsome Man shook his head.

They couldn’t immediately become their ally. There was no trust between them yet.

The situation itself was laughable.

The Protagonist was captured.

It was very disadvantageous.

There was no way he would believe the Protagonist’s consent.

For the Handsome Man, it was a test run.

Perhaps his goal was to gradually win him over.

They needed to earn their trust. It was a difficult task.

He didn’t rush.

They were still in the stage of getting to know each other better.

Then, the Mercenaries returned.

The Commander also stood up.

They set up tents and prepared to camp.

Although there was a Carriage, it was too small for everyone to sleep in.

They only left the Protagonist and Lorina. It seemed they didn’t think they could sleep with a captive.

The wind blew. It was cold even inside the Carriage.

It was a cold they hadn’t felt while staying at the inn.

It had been a long time since they slept outdoors. Perhaps that’s why it felt even colder.

He called a Mercenary.

One person approached. It was the Rough-bearded Man.

“Excuse me.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to light a campfire?”

“You must be cold.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t be helped. We’re on the run. Lighting a fire would leave a trace and announce that there are people in this place, so we can’t light one.”

The Mercenary turned away abruptly.

His attitude suggested he had done his part by explaining the reason.

There was food in the Carriage. It was Black Bread.

The Mercenaries each took a piece of Black Bread and ate it. Their expressions were all grim.

It was Black Bread so hard it could kill a person. Even after coating it with saliva, it took a long time to soften. Filling one’s stomach was a chore.

Warm soup was essential to eat Black Bread, but they couldn’t cook it now.

To make soup, they had to boil water. To do that, they had to light a campfire. As a result, it would leave a trace.

He called a Mercenary. Perhaps they could make soup after all.

“Can you untie my hands?”

“No.”

The Rough-bearded Man refused flat out. There was no reason to untie her.

“I can make hot water.”

“What? Really?”

“Don’t you want to eat warm soup?”

“Oh really? You can make it, can you?”

The man left his spot. She heard the mercenaries talking among themselves. It sounded like they were arguing.

After a short while, the man reappeared.

“If you try anything funny, you’ll regret it.”

The man untied the ropes. She moved her hands and feet. Slowly, feeling returned.

The mercenaries were gathered by the tent.

The black bread in their hands was intact. It seemed incredibly difficult to eat. Their expressions were even more rotten than expected.

She took a deep breath.

She chanted a spell.

The mercenaries watched. The Handsome Man, called the Commander, was also there.

The mercenaries’ eyes were full of intensity. It was very intimidating.

She had no choice.

People had died by the Protagonist’s hand. Not just one or two, but four. So, they couldn’t help but be wary.

She created a mass of water.

She made it as hot as possible. Imagination was important. The Protagonist didn’t know the theory well. So, she had to imagine it even more concretely.

The water boiled. It was boiling water. She poured it into a pot. It was placed on the ground. The mercenaries each took out ingredients. Soup was made by adding whatever ingredients were available at the time.

She waited a bit.

The flavor of the ingredients needed to seep into the broth. As the color of the water changed, a plausible smell wafted into her nose.

The mercenaries took out their bowls. They always carried their dishes with them.

They scooped up the soup and ate it.

They also dipped the black bread. Even the hard black bread softened when it touched the hot broth. It couldn’t taste bad when eaten soaked in soup.

A question arose.

The soup was still boiling hot even when they started eating.

The water should have cooled. Even more so considering how cold it was outside. It seemed that he had imagined boiling water for a long time. This seemed like it would be profitable.

“Whew!”

“My body is warming up.”

The mercenaries’ expressions softened.

The cold outside was unbearable. It’s not for nothing that sleeping rough wears you out.

The warm soup warmed their bodies, replacing a campfire. It was much-needed soup.

The atmosphere was good.

He received the bowls they had finished eating from.

He ladled out soup. He also made sure to set some aside for Lorina. Fortunately, they allowed it. Even if she was a prisoner, she had to be fed for now.

He returned to the carriage. Lorina was watching, leaning against the wall. He could see her tied with ropes. He hesitated for a moment. He felt that the mercenaries would be angry if he untied her.

He spoon-fed her himself.

The girl whimpered.

She seemed to know what the protagonist’s fate would be. His heart ached. He comforted her. There was nothing else he could do right now.

Even if he wanted to reassure her, the mercenaries were listening. He couldn’t risk raising unnecessary suspicion.

After the meal, he was called.

It was the Commander.

His gaze had changed. It was the kind of look one gives to a useful item.

Mercenaries often sleep rough. They can’t wash or eat properly. It was a great inconvenience.

With Rael, at least that inconvenience disappeared. Perhaps that’s why his eyes were burning.

He looked at him. The mercenary tag around his neck caught his eye.

Large letters were visible.

“Intermediate Mercenary?”

“So you can read.”

“A little.”

He looked at the mercenary tag. It was different from the protagonist’s. It was made of silver. It was impressive. If he melted that down, he felt like he would get more than ten silver coins.

“You’re hiding it, aren’t you?”

“Because it’s hard to become an Intermediate Mercenary.”

He nodded his head.

He remembered what the Mercenary Guild Employee had said. The Middle-aged man had said that only two or three out of a hundred would make it. That’s how difficult it was to become an Intermediate Mercenary.

“Are they all that strong?”

“I’m the strong one. I can even become a Senior Mercenary.”

“Why are you an Intermediate?”

“Because the duration was short.”

“Duration?”

“I am a fallen Noble. You’ve seen my skill, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You are also strong. But I am stronger. Why? Because I was a Noble. A strong Beggar who trained in the Swordsmanship passed down through generations of my family.”

He understood why he was strong for a Mercenary.

It was because he had mastered the Swordsmanship of the Secret Art passed down from a Noble family. Knights only learned a portion of that Swordsmanship. Naturally, he had no choice but to be stronger than a Knight.

“I plan to restore my family someday. I need subordinates. Among them, a Mage is absolutely necessary.”

“Are Mages rare?”

“Of course. Some small territories don’t even have them.”

To that extent, it was like a Gnoll.

“There was a great Mage where I was.”

“He is special. He’s one of the few Senior Mages in the Kingdom.”

“Why would such a person be in such a remote territory?”

“Everyone has their own peculiar stories. I am the same. My family fell, and I am a wanderer without a home.”

The Commander smiled. It was a bitter smile.

“Therefore, I will make you a proposal.”

“A proposal?”

“Join me. This time, I’m serious.”

His expression was serious.

I wondered if it was the power of the warm soup.