Taking a break.

[Randall's POV]

Sitting on the inside of the wooden wagon, I kept my eyes on the man sitting in front of us, while Jean took care of the talking.

His blue robe, surprisingly well-maintained, served as a disguise for his somewhat chubby body. Silver trims decorated the robe's edges, and the white and blue stripes on both forearms represented… Probably a logo. 

A big nose poked out of his light-skinned face, almost overshadowing the merchant's other features, such as his dark hair, brown eyes or even his poker face.

However, the dark skinned elf sitting by that man also caught my attention… Along with the bag resting in her lap, of course.

The elf wore a mostly green, but tattered, robe, which missed its right arm, with the lack of cloth revealing some hardly noticeable bruises.

In its interior, some jewels clashed with each other, making a strange sound.

A strange, mildly annoying sound.

Only cut off by the man's laughter fit, and the banging of his own knee.

"Hahaha… haha… Hey, what's your name?" he inquired, facing the woman sitting at my side.

"Jean. Jean Verderift."

Magnoldius' outgoing smile stifled, his brown eyes widening, as the weight of my companion's statement seemed to settle in on his mind.

The dark elf's eyes also grew wider, in spite of the focus of her gaze now forcefully staying on the window.

… Even the wagon stopped.

"Y-y-you…. A-are you the daughter of the Flame Saint?" asked the merchant, shaking with horror.

'Daughter of…'

"... Yes," replied the woman, dejectedly.

'That reaction… I've seen it so many times.'

Way too often.

… Anyway, neither Ren nor I had much of a reaction to that statement. We sort of knew already… I think.

The man and the elf immediately tried to get on their knees, but the wagon wasn't big enough.

The man, and three of the humans from outside, still showered her with praise, though. 

"It's such an honor to meet you, Miss!" yelled one of the archers, who sat outside.

"The daughter of the Flame Saint, in the flesh…" muttered the merchant, astonished.

The elf opened her mouth, but no words came out. Thus, she kept quiet.

After a few minutes, the chubby man requested the current driver to stop near the shrubs.

And so he did.

The carriage came to a full halt, and a blond man, whose skin revealed him to be in his 30's, opened the door for us to walk down. But for obvious reasons, Jean left the primitive vehicle first, and the merchant got off after her.

Then, Ren and I left it, with the elf right behind us.

In the driver's seat, sat a man with a deep brown… coat? Whatever it was, it acted as a coat of sorts. The dark hat on his head shielded his eyes from the radiant sun, along with giving him some extra points to his appearance.

The hardened, leather-like reins rested on the dirty floor, along with some rocks. 

"I'll be off…" muttered Ren, before walking off.

I didn't really know where to go, until someone called out to me. 

Turning around, it was the driver.

A jagged man, whose tired eyes revealed a lot of experience. The sun shone down on his wrinkly skin, revealing some symptoms of old age.

"Thank you, for your help," he declared.

"It's nothing, really."

"..."

"..."

We both remained there, in silence. The old man's hazel eyes didn't move much, opting to stay on me. 

"... Young man, what is your name?"

I think we both got tired of the silence.

"Randall. And yours?"

"Call me Andrew," he replied. And we returned, back to square one: Silence.

Until I broke it again, that is.

"So, how'd you end up here?"

Andrew let out a laugh, and started talking.

His time-worn expression eased up a bit, as he told me a bit about his past experiences working as a mercenary for the Adventurers' Guild, and how he ended up meeting Magnoldius, who gave him a fairly stable job as a bodyguard.

Inevitably, we ended up talking about the rest of his crew.

"Isn't a 6-man crew rather small, given your line of work?"

The man's expression turned grim. His hands gripper the hilt of a darkened silver spear, tightly.

"It… is. Most of our crew died on a nearby road, to an ambush. The sixteen of us retreated to the forest, planning to regroup and get back the convoy, but…"

He didn't continue. For we both knew the fate of that crew.

Him, because he saw them in their last moments.

And I, because I went back to recover the wagon…

'Those monsters spared no one…'

That phrase made me recall a certain moment. 

Around an hour ago, I walked along the dirt, with my flaming crossbow in hand, only for a small pack of wolves to rush at me from the trees.

Energies of all kinds flourished out of their bodies, bloodlust and ravenous hunger emanating from their eyes. In response, I merely pointed my weapon at one of them, the larger one, and fired.

The arrow penetrated its body, and exploded. The nearby shrubs and grass quickly caught on flames.

The five or six remaining attempted to scatter quickly, to no avail. A single arrow reached every single one of their bodies, either blowing up their bodies in their entirety, or setting them and their surroundings on fire. 

Yet… That same fire vanished as quickly as it came.

A slight discomfort spread through my head, but it was negligible. Thus, I ignored it, and continued walking… only to find a small, shallow cave. More akin to a hole turned into a shelter.

A deep gray wolf stood near the end of the cave, growling threateningly at me, the invader.

Three tiny cubs, one with gray fur and two with black fur, cuddled up behind the adult wolf, shaking.

I stared at those four, before turning around and leaving them in that hellscape.

I… couldn't bring myself to kill them. Even if they were monsters.

Their expressions remained printed on my mind, even as I left them to get the wagon.

"... Yeah."

The talk died down entirely. And after a while, we departed in the wagon.