Chapter 3

We decided to take the mission Sara picked out.

I don't know how she did it, but the first mission she picked out was the best one of all the options we had run a fine comb over. The travel distance was not only optimal, but Gyuranza was also the capital of the Neris Dukedom and therefore a fantastic place to network. Cultivating connections with the higher-ups of that place should allow me to get in contact with the other magic nations of Basherant and Ranoa before even stepping foot in them.

"Plus, we might get to know any paid passengers wanting a ride," Timothy added.

"That was how we met after all," I reply with a smile.

The wagon driver was discussing the route with our client, Karpesh, a brown-skinned man. They were going over the journey from Rosenburg to Gyuranza, highlighting plains, foothills, and potential hazards.

The formation we decided on was as follows:

Suzanne and Patrice are our two warriors. They are positioned at the front and rear of the caravan to guard against frontal assaults and rear ambushes.

Sara: As an expert archer, her keen eyesight and quick reflexes make her valuable for spotting danger, so she would ride alongside the caravan and occasionally scout ahead.

Timothy and I ride inside the caravan on standby for either support or attack magic, while I occasionally ride with Sara to provide terrain modification.

The paid passengers looked like they had a couple of fighters among them, so they should also add extra muscle to the security detail if needed.

Finishing up his talk with the lead driver, Karpesh walks up to us and asks a question: "You guys are mages, right? My most valuable goods are stored in hidden compartments and equipped with lock-type magic items I purchased, so I figured I'd share the trigger with you."

Magic items are objects infused with mana that possess unique and specific abilities. By performing a specific action or trigger, the user can activate the item's magical effect. Magic items have a limited number of uses per day, but their mana reserves naturally replenish over time.

 He pulls out a carved wooden token. "Press this symbol and say 'Luzarn' to unlock the compartments," he explains.

 I nod, taking the token from Karpesh. "Got it. 'Luzarn' to unlock and 'Frasar' to re-lock."

 "The token can handle about five uses per day," Karpesh adds. "More than enough for our journey."

 "Understood," I say, slipping the token into a secure pocket. "Thanks for trusting us with this."

 "Even without barrier magic, I trust Counter Arrow," Karpesh replies before returning to his preparations.

 Sara kicked a stone into the forest. "Did he have to mention barrier magic?" she grumbled. "Rudeus is the best mage I've ever met. It's not your fault those Millis pricks stopped you from learning it."

Timothy told me that the Millis faith owned the rights to both divine and barrier magic. A deceased member of Counter Arrow named Mimir actually used divine magic when we encountered a wraith in the Galgau ruins three months into my stay at Rosenburg, but it was illegal for him to teach it to me.

If he violated the law, then the Millis Faith would've hunted him down and put him on trial.

"It's understandable. Everyone wants maximum protection for their valuables," Timothy said with a reassuring smile. "Though I agree that Rudeus is amazing, not only is he skilled in multiple schools of magic, but he's the first silent spellcaster I've seen since my teacher at the academy."

I think up a response, then get a funny feeling—a familiar feeling. Didn't we have a similar conversation last year?

 "Well, you're no slouch yourself, aren't you? That's fairly obvious. I mean, you're the first silent spellcaster I've seen since my teacher at the academy."

"IIt hasn't done me much good. I still lost everyone I cared about."

"Ah. Right. My apologies."

How about I don't dump my trauma on someone trying to have a basic conversation as a method to avoid connection this time? I've long since realised I haven't lost everything and have committed to moving forward with these guys.

I take a deep breath and look at Timothy and Sara, feeling a sense of warmth. "Thanks for the compliment, Timothy. But we're all strong in our own ways. Let's focus on making this journey safe and successful together."

Sara grins. "Well, let's show Karpesh what Counter Arrow can do. We've got this."

 As we finish our preparations and gather our belongings, Karpesh calls out, signalling that it's time to depart. We head towards the caravan, joining the rest of the group.

The lead driver, a sturdy man named Roderick, gives us a nod. "All set? We've got a long road ahead."

We all respond affirmatively, mounting our respective positions. As we start moving, I notice a new face among the passengers—an adult in his mid-twenties with a serious expression, his eyes sharp and watchful. He has a well-worn sword at his side and a distinctive scar running down his left cheek. His clothes, though patched and mended, are of fine quality.

Sara leaned in, whispering, "That's Lyle, one of the passengers. I heard he's from the conflict zone. It could be useful if we hit trouble."

As in the place where Philip and Hilda died?That conflict zone? The name of the region by itself was unsettling. The place was dotted with countries, settlements, and tribes that couldn't quite be classified as sovereign nations, and all of them were locked in never-ending warfare with one another. It was like this world's version of Japan's Warring States period.

It must be tough to live in such a place. Was he some soldier or mercenary who left after becoming disillusioned with the constant fighting and wanted to look for work so he could settle down?

Whatever his motivations were, I was curious enough that I nodded back to Sara and made a mental note to talk to him later. 

"Good to know. Let's keep an eye on him."

Sara

It's been a couple of days on the road.

Each day blends into the next, a mix of dust, chatter, and the rhythmic clatter of my horse's hooves on the road. Riding alongside the caravan, I've had plenty of time to think and observe, though it's not always the most thrilling activity. It was still part of the gig all adventurers signed up for. 

Each morning starts with the same routine. I wake up before dawn, and the air in the northern summer is still crisp and cool. The first thing I do is check on my horse, a sturdy mare I named Windracer, courtesy of Rudeus. 

I've discovered that he was very insistent on naming animals.

Her coat is a sleek chestnut, and she has a white star on her forehead that makes her look almost regal. I brush her down carefully, making sure she's well-fed and hydrated. She's more than just a mode of transportation; she's my steadfast companion, and I had to trust her with my life for the dangers ahead. Once she's settled, I take a moment to stretch, loosening the knots from another night on the hard ground.

We set out as the sun rose, casting long shadows over the landscape. Riding ahead of the caravan, I keep a vigilant eye on the horizon, scanning for any signs of trouble—bandits, monsters, or anything else that might threaten our journey. The shortsword Rudeus bought me rests comfortably at my side, but my real comfort is the bow slung across my back.

At midday, the caravan halts for a midday meal, with guards taking turns to eat and rest while maintaining a watchful eye on the surroundings.

In the evening, we would find a pre-arranged rest point, usually in the form of a secluded glade, but we eventually reached a small village for our client to engage in some trade and resupply a little.

Remnants of other campsites were found on the way here, so we were pretty sure there was another party up ahead we didn't know about. Didn't the guys back at the guild say something about 'Quagmire and the strongest party in town leaving'?

The only party that fit the latter description was one I loathed the idea of running into.

"How's it looking up ahead?" Rudeus called out from behind, his voice carrying on the breeze. and snapping me out of my thoughts. 

Despite the time spent inside the carriage, he was currently seated on my horse outside so we could use his earth magic to smooth and flatten the road ahead whenever it was threatening to make progress slow by being rocky and uneven.

"Clear so far, but we should keep an eye on the sky. Clouds are moving in," I replied, leaning back just a bit, letting my first boyfriend's warmth and presence envelop me while keeping my eyes on the road ahead. 

We made a rule not to get distracted on the job, but nobody could blame me for getting a bit of body warmth. 

The northern summer was still pretty chilly after all. 

"More importantly," trying to keep my voice steady, I start remembering the bit about needing to 'build relationships with influencers and ask, "How goes your attempt to get closer to the client with those toys of yours?" 

"First of all, they're called figurines," he paused, and I hummed noncommittal. "Second of all, it's going pretty well, actually. Spending most of my travel time making them in front of the others attracted enough attention to get Karpesh talking to me. Although he was a lot more interested in the dolls I made to accompany the Ruijerd figurine than the figurine itself, "

"I mean, it is a Superd after all. People here don't hate demons like the guys from Millis, but I doubt merchants would think a statue of the people children hear horror stories about would sell well."

"Yeah, I was pretty sure the only reason the guys back at the guild didn't make a fuss was out of consideration for the last day of the famous 'Quagmire'" Rudeus agreed before adding, "Plus, it's kind of hard to believe it's a Superd anyways without paint to help identify the trademark green hair."

"You could always stick some grass or seaweed on top of it."

"Oi!"

 A few more back and forths, and we eventually made it back to the caravan located in the small village. The lack of housing meant we couldn't stay indoors, so the caravan set up camp in a sheltered grove of trees, where they could build a fire without the wind snatching away its warmth. Suzanne and Timothy gathered kindling, their breath coming in puffs as they worked.

Around the campfire, we gathered, chatting to keep our spirits high. Rudeus used his magic to reinforce the warmth, creating a comfortable bubble against the encroaching cold.

Rudeus started the session by showing off the dolls he made to accompany the figurine and pointed to an egg-like thing that stood upright despite having a round bottom.

"What's that?" someone questioned 

"That would be the self-righting doll (Okiagari-koboshi). Even if you flick it with your finger like this, it will stand again without falling over, you see."

Saying that the teen flicked the egg-like thing over. As he said, the doll bounced straight back without falling over, returning to its original position while swaying round and round.

"ooooh"

"There are also monkey amulets (Sarubobo) that you can give to children as charms for good health or happiness, and cow toys (Akabeko) believed to ward off illness."

"And do they actually do those things?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"Nope!" he shrugs, and I feel like everyone shared the sudden urge to face fault. "But it isn't like I advertise them for their 'charms' and I bet all of us believe in some superstition."

"He's right, you know." the voice to say that was the scar-faced guy among the paid passengers, Lyle.

His dialect immediately pinged him as someone from the south of the central continent; people from the Asura kingdom like me and Rudeus had the western dialect. It was mutually intelligible to the Northern folk here, but I heard it was best not to use it in other regions since people from the West were thought to be wealthy and attracted unwarranted attention.

The fact that a mere village girl like me could be affected by something as simple as dialect just shows how powerful the Asura kingdom is.

"The people of this world avoid spears and lances, considering them "devils' weapons" due to their use by the Superd Tribe." 

 "As an adventurer, you can't afford to buy arms of such an ill omen," Patrice says, nodding in confirmation.

"or the common tendency for parents to name their child Shyna after the female knight that appears in the epic of the North God in hopes that the name might keep them from being killed in some freak accident."

 "The stories I heard did say that no matter how brutal the battle, she would always return home, almost as if she were unkillable," Rudeus explains.

 "And then there's the idea that if you name a child before you leave on a journey, you'll never come back home."

"One of Perugius's companions, an emperor-tier fire mage called Feroze Star, named his unborn son before leaving and was killed by a demon king." This time I'm the one to respond, recalling stories my parents told me as a child.

"So you see," Lyle continued, "superstitions are a universal thing. Even if you don't believe in one, there's going to be some you find yourself falling into."

"I agree; many of the demons I met when studying at Ranoa didn't believe in superstitions born of a human hero's story as it had nothing to do with their respective tribes," Timothy said with a smile.

"Ranoa, you say?" Lyle's interest was piqued. "Were you raised there?"

"That's right. I was born in a nameless village there and spent my formative years in the city of Sharia. You might know it for its University of Magic. Eventually, I headed down to Asura to pursue my dream of becoming a great adventurer, which is how I ended up where I am today, a much humbler man."

"Wasn't the other silent spellcaster you mentioned a teacher at Ranoa?" Rudeus inquired.

"Indeed," Timothy confirmed before frowning. Suzanne, noticing his change of expression, shifted closer. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder; her warm and comforting touch was something I knew from experience.

"Though that was so long ago, I worry that he may die of old age soon," Timothy said, his voice tinged with sadness.

"We'll make our way there eventually, and I'm sure you'll see him again," Suzanne said gently, her hand giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. The warmth of her touch seemed to ease his worry, and Timothy offered her a grateful smile.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Lyle met it with a serious aspect of his own background. 

"I grew up in the conflict zone," Lyle began, his voice grave. "A place where countries, settlements, and tribes are locked in never-ending warfare. The name itself is unsettling, but the reality is even worse."

I leaned in, intrigued. Rudeus was seated behind me, and I could feel his attention focused on Lyle's words as well.

"Four hundred years ago, during the final throes of the Laplace War, the Asura Kingdom managed to escape destruction and retain its grip over its territories. The central and southern regions, however, were unclaimed and became a haven for war survivors looking to start anew."

I listened intently, my mind racing. I knew about the conflict zone, but hearing it from someone who had lived there was different.

 "For a while, there was no strife," Lyle said, "but as each realm gained more power, borders were established, and clashes began. Small skirmishes ballooned, pulling in every nearby nation. The King Dragon Realm was the first to extricate itself from the chaos, becoming the strongest country in the southern region after claiming mineral-rich mountains from the King Dragons."

His words painted a vivid picture of the endless cycle of war and strife. "The King Dragon Realm hoped to claim the entire south, but their plans were thwarted by the Asura Kingdom and the Holy Kingdom of Millis. They pressured the King Dragon Realm, warning them not to invade the conflict zone. All three signed a pact agreeing not to interfere directly."

I clenched my fists. The idea of powerful nations manipulating smaller ones for their own gain was infuriating. I had seen the damage caused by selfish nobles and corrupt leaders firsthand.

Like Philemon Notos Greyrat

 "Each of these three powers wanted the land in the centre of the continent," Lyle explained. "They pulled strings, backing different rulers within the region, hoping to make one of them their vassal. What followed was chaos and war. Each kingdom sent spies to infiltrate whichever nation was gaining power, causing it to collapse into civil war. None of the three nations really minded. The Conflict Zone provided an import and export industry for military equipment, so even if they couldn't unify the region, it was no great loss. It was just one more place with a potentially promising future for them to send their spies."

My blood boiled. The manipulation, the disregard for lives—it was despicable. "So they just kept the conflict zone in a state of perpetual war for their benefit?" I asked, my voice shaking with anger.

"Exactly," Lyle replied. "They have nothing to lose and everything to gain."

"That's disgusting," I said, my voice low but filled with fury. "Using people's lives like pawns in a game... It's no different from the nobles who sacrifice their subjects for their own gain."

Other than my hatred, the only thing I could feel was Rudeus's soothing hand on my shoulder, grounding me as he forcibly asked a question in an attempt to steer the atmosphere in a different direction.

"Speaking of the conflict zone, do you have any advice for adventurers that may end up there?" 

"Avoid it at all costs."

Everyone else leaned in, the fire crackling between us. Shadows danced on their faces as they listened intently.

"I knew a party called Gigantes," Lyle continued. "They accepted a simple delivery request that took them into the conflict zone. It seemed straightforward enough, but once they delivered the missive, things went downhill fast."

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold night air. Rudeus's presence behind me was a steady comfort.

"As soon as they arrived, the war between two of the kingdoms heated up. The borders were sealed, trapping them in a war zone. Public safety plummeted, fewer missions were posted, and the adventurers in the area were practically conscripted by the guild to act as mercenaries. The pay wasn't bad, but the fatality rate was ridiculous. No adventurer would willingly partake in such work except for those who specialised in it."

Lyle's words painted a bleak picture. "Gigantes were veterans, but they weren't killers. They wanted to escape, but if they tried to bypass the border, they risked being caught by either army. Both sides would see them as valuable sources of information, and getting caught meant torture or worse."

"We'll be careful." Rudeus responded seriously, and his other hand moved to grasp my own. I knew he was intermediate in the sword god style, but I was always slightly surprised at how much his hands reflected the years of swordsmanship training. "I have no intention of letting us get caught in a trap like that."

As everyone settled down and went to bed, Lyles's story resonated with me. The guy himself put me on edge, but his background solidified one thought in my mind.

I hated nobles.

The thought reverberated so much within me that I ignored my boyfriend's worried gaze

Rudeus

I was worried for Sara.

Her contempt towards the nobility for their responsibility for the death of her village was obvious to me, and the only thing I could do for her at the time was to place what I hoped to be a comforting hand on her shoulder in hopes of grounding her while she seethed.

As her boyfriend, it was my responsibility to support her through this. The intensity of her emotions was palpable, and I could only imagine the pain and anger she felt. Most of my family was confirmed to be alive; we may have split apart, but I hadn't truly lost anyone I cared about enough to feel vengeful.

As I got up from my restful state and started walking through the forest to start my own training, I heard the sound of arrows cutting through the air. The rhythmic thud of arrows hitting their target was distinct, and it didn't take long to find the source.

Sara was practicing her archery in a small clearing. She had set up makeshift targets made from tightly bound bundles of hay wrapped in thick cloth. Each target had a crudely drawn bullseye on it, and judging by the cluster of arrows embedded in the centre, Sara's aim was deadly accurate. The targets were lined up against a sturdy tree, the bark scarred from repeated impacts.

I watched her for a moment, marvelling at her precision. Her movements were fluid and graceful, each arrow released with practiced ease. Yet, there was an undercurrent of raw emotion in every shot—anger, frustration, and a desperate need to assert control over something in her life.

Seeing her like this, so focused yet so troubled, stirred something deep within me. I wanted to help her, to ease her pain, but I had seen enough to know that some wounds couldn't be healed with words or magic. They needed time, understanding, and a safe space to express themselves.

Well, probably, I sure as hell wasn't a psychologist, but thats the best I got.

Not that I've really expressed my own stuff to anyone.

Maybe I should talk to someone about Eris.

"Sara," I called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turned, lowering her bow slightly, her expression a mix of surprise and guardedness. "Rudeus, what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you," I admitted, stepping closer. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

She sighed, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "I just needed to blow off some steam."

If this was when we first met, she would've gone off on me, and we would've gotten into a super emotional, serious spat.

That was what I honestly expected coming into this, the perks of being a boyfriend, I guess.

"I can tell," I said with a small smile. "You're an amazing archer, you know that?"

She shrugged, a flicker of pride in her eyes. "It's the one thing I've always been good at."

"I know," I said, reaching out to touch her arm gently. "And it's okay to be angry, Sara. You've been through so much."

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, the tension between us seemed to ease. But before we could say more, a voice interrupted us.

"Mind if I join you two?"

We turned to see Lyle approaching, a calm expression on his scarred face. He carried his own sword at his waist, looking every bit like a seasoned warrior.

"I couldn't help but notice the shortsword at your waist was something you never used." Lyle said, nodding at Sara, "I could teach you if you'd like, and maybe we can talk a bit while we're at it."

Sara's eyes narrowed. "What's there to talk about, and why the hell should I have you teach me and not Suzanne or Rudeus?"

"Whilst I won't doubt the skill of your party members, it isn't every day you get offered to be taught by a North King."

As in the same level as Ghislaine?

Sara and I exchanged shocked glances. "King-tier?" she echoed, her voice tinged with awe. "That's incredible."

Lyle shrugged modestly. "It's what happens when you have a very good teacher. The North God Style is about endurance and adaptability. It teaches you to weather any storm and to be the last one standing. It constantly evolves, adding new techniques, unlike other styles that replicate their founders. Those who stand out from the crowd like you two with your unique weapons at your disposal often end up gravitating towards it."

'Unique weapons' probably refers to my chantless magic and Sara's archery. 

I stepped forward, intrigued. Paul had never let me learn North Gid style; my only experience was my fight against the North Saint Gallus Cleaner. "I'd like to join too. We could both use the training."

Lyle smiled. "Of course. The more, the merrier. Let's start with some basics."

As Lyle began demonstrating techniques, Sara and I followed his lead. Other than a few minor adjustments due to the difference in sword styles, I had no trouble; practicing swordsmanship drills veryday since I was five years old, which I learned under the tutelage of my advanced-tier father and a sword king alongside Eris, has left me with a solid foundation of the basics.

Sara, on the other hand,

"Ugh!" She groaned as Lyle harshly corrected her posture when attempting to mimic his movements.

was having trouble

It was to be expected; this was her first time training with any melee techniques. Not to mention the difference between archery and swordsmanship.

"Remember that swordsman training is more about improving technique and stamina than resource management; we are less dependent on terrain and can fight effectively in almost any environment, whether it be a narrow space or an open plain."

"Yes sir!

Despite the initial struggles, Sara showed great potential. Her natural precision and control from archery transferred well to swordsmanship once she adjusted her techniques. Her stamina and discipline were also strong points, honed from years of drawing and holding a bowstring.

"Good, now try to integrate those corrections," Lyle said, watching her closely.

Sara nodded, determination etched on her face. She adjusted her stance, relaxed her grip, and focused on her surroundings as she moved through the drills. There was visible improvement with each attempt.

I, meanwhile, found the North God Style's adaptability fascinating. The constant evolution and incorporation of new techniques suited the innovative approach to magic and combat I had before I figured that a QuagCannon (Quagmire + Stone Cannon combo) beat 90% of my enemies. I practiced the drills alongside Sara, matching her movements and offering silent encouragement.

"You're suited to the North God style, Ru—" Lyle started to say something but was abruptly cut off by a loud voice.

"HEY! HURRY UP OR WE'LL LEAVE WITHOUT YOU!"

We turned to see Karpesh, his voice echoing through the trees. Apparently, we had gotten so caught up in training that we forgot the caravan was about to leave.

"It seems we'll have to continue this later, my new students," Lyle said, acquiescing with a nod.

Sara and I quickly gathered her arrows and made our way back to the caravan. As we approached Windracer, its unique design making it stand out among the other horses, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation for the journey ahead.

As we mounted up and joined the caravan, I noticed the villagers waving us off with a mix of gratitude and relief. Karpesh had finished his business, and it was time for us to move on.

Sara, still flushed from training, looked over at me and smiled. "Thanks for joining me back there. It means a lot."

"Anytime," I smiled back. 

The next couple of days on the road were peaceful. The northern summer was mild, with cool breezes that kept the journey from becoming too uncomfortable. I found myself stealing glances at Sara whenever I could. Watching her ride with such confidence, her hair catching the light just so, made my heart race.

Despite the harsh training, she carried herself with an effortless grace that I couldn't help but admire. Her cheeks would still be flushed from exertion, giving her a radiant glow that made her even more captivating. I'd find myself lost in thought, imagining us sharing quiet moments together, maybe even sneaking a kiss when no one was looking. My mind wandered to more intimate thoughts: the warmth of her skin, the softness of her lips, the smoothness of her skin, the smell of her sweat...

I shook my head, trying to refocus. This wasn't the time to get distracted.

"Rudeus, are you even listening?" Sara's voice cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

She gave me a knowing look but didn't press further. "I was saying we should keep an eye out for anything unusual. We've had it easy so far, but I don't want us to be caught off guard."

I nodded, trying to push my pervy thoughts aside. "You're right. Let's stay vigilant."

As the caravan wound its way through the forested terrain, we remained alert. The road ahead was lined with tall pines, their shadows stretching long in the afternoon sun. It was easy to let my mind drift in this environment with my partner by my side, but I couldn't afford to get carried away.

On the third day, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting an orange hue over the landscape, I noticed something troubling. Far ahead, a thin plume of smoke curled into the sky. My heart quickened, and I nudged Sara, pointing towards the smoke.

"That doesn't look good," I said, my voice low.

She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the distant sign. "Definitely signs of fighting. We should get a better look and then warn the others."

Following the usual routine, I summoned a flat-top version of an earth lance, creating a makeshift lookout tower for Sara and me. The elevated position worked in tandem with her extraordinarily keen eyesight. We quickly rose up, and as Sara peered into the distance, her expression suddenly changed to one of shock.

"Sara, what's wrong?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice.

She turned to me, her face pale and conflicted. "It's... it's Soldat's group. They're in trouble."