Gladiators, knights, guards, mages.
Since coming to this world, I’ve seen people from all sorts of professions.
Yet, I’ve never encountered the quintessential fantasy role: adventurers.
Apparently, among mercenaries, those who focus on exploration are referred to as adventurers.
Curious to see one, I stepped into the building.
Ding–
The soft chime of a bell greeted me as I entered. Inside, the place was bustling with activity.
Even in broad daylight, some mercenaries were sitting at tables deeper in the building, swords strapped to their waists, guzzling down alcohol.
Is this part tavern, too? Seems like it.
The faint smell of iron mixed with the strong aroma of spices greeted me as I ventured further inside.
At the counter, a man with a bored expression sat slouched. Beside him was what appeared to be a job board.
I approached the board to skim through the missions.
The requests, illustrated with simple text and drawings, were mostly hunting or gathering tasks.
It seemed that the majority came from the capital’s magic tower or artisan workshops.
Well, it is the capital, so extermination requests might not be in demand.
Not to mention, the capital of the Adel Kingdom is located right next to a mountain range.
Looks like people venture into the mountains to hunt monsters, gather fresh materials, or collect herbs.
Come to think of it, the monsters I captured back during my time at the Colosseum were all dragged in from that mountain range.
But more importantly…
[Orc Shaman’s Fang, Troll’s Liver.]
Can mercenaries really gather materials like this?
These items seem incredibly difficult to obtain.
Even if someone asked me to fetch them, I’d shake my head at the thought.
I glanced over at the mercenaries gathered here.
Their skill levels didn’t seem particularly high…
Maybe the key figures aren’t around because it’s daytime?
Still, if I had to pick out the most competent-looking group here…
“Wahaha! Cheers!”
“Drink more!”
“Let’s drink ourselves to death!”
It’d be those guys drinking over in the corner of the guild pub.
There are quite a few of them.
About fifteen?
They’ve practically taken over the center of the tavern, downing drinks like there’s no tomorrow.
“I told her off back then!”
“Oi, Hans! Is this about your girlfriend?”
“What’d you say, you bastard?!”
They’re laughing, shouting, grabbing each other by the collars—
Crash!
“You broke the plate!”
“Dammit!”
Even breaking plates. It’s absolute chaos.
Judging by the atmosphere, other mercenaries seemed bothered by the rowdy group but refrained from intervening.
Their numbers and tough appearance likely kept everyone quiet.
Are they the kind of people who flex their strength a bit?
I was mulling over their abilities when—
“Let’s take on a job!”
“Yeah! I’ll grab one, and we can bet on the reward!”
Stagger.
One of the larger mercenaries staggered toward the job board, where I was standing.
He’d clearly had way too much to drink.
His massive frame wobbled as he bumped into nearby tables, shattering plates and causing a ruckus.
Finally, he stopped right in front of me.
“Move.”
He shoved my shoulder, intending to push me aside.
However—
Thunk.
I didn’t budge.
“What the…?”
His expression changed as he realized I wasn’t moving.
“What’s your deal?”
Normally, I’d ignore such provocations and step aside.
But today, I had a question of my own.
Stare.
Quietly, I looked down at the large man in front of me.
He was broad and stocky, but I was at least a head taller.
That alone made him flinch ever so slightly.
It seemed he was trying to size me up.
Well, what do you expect from someone who lives by the sword?
People like that tend to be sharp in moments like this.
“Hey, if you bump into someone, the least you can do is apologize.”
Poke.
Before he could chicken out and let it slide, I jabbed him lightly on the forehead with my finger.
And then—
His face flushed red with anger, a vein popping on his forehead.
“You little—”
Thud! Thud-thud!
He shoved my chest hard a couple of times.
“Are you trying to start something?!”
Ignoring his tantrum, I glanced over at the group of mercenaries watching us with amused grins.
Now, who’s the leader here?
Groups with numbers like this usually have someone in charge.
Ah, there he is.
Seated at the farthest end of a long table was a middle-aged man with a grim face, clearly projecting authority.
The energy radiating from him wasn’t ordinary.
“Hey, didn’t you hear me?”
Whoosh.
While I was pondering, the bulky mercenary swung a hand, aiming to slap my face. I tilted my head and dodged it.
“Oh, really?”
Annoyed by my reaction, he reached out to grab my collar.
Crack!
“Arghhh!”
Before he could manage it, I twisted his wrist, forcing him to his knees as he clutched his arm in pain.
Now then…
I glanced at the emblem hanging from his belt.
A silver badge, with a crossed sword and shield.
That signifies a Silver-ranked warrior mercenary, doesn’t it?
Silver is the third-highest rank among mercenaries.
So, he’s not just some nobody.
Though, drunk as he is, he’s kneeling on the floor like this.
“You punk!”
“What’s going on here?”
Rumble—
As I subdued the bulky man, the other mercenaries, who had been lounging around, abruptly rose from their seats.
All except for one.
As expected, their leader was the one who stayed seated.
Thud!
“Argh!”
I kicked the bulky mercenary kneeling before me aside and strode toward the table.
“You’re dead meat!”
Grab!
The first mercenary to rush at me had his face grabbed firmly.
Boom!
With a flick of my wrist, I slammed him down onto the floor.
“What the…”
“What just happened…?”
The group froze, momentarily stunned by my actions.
Step, Step.
I ignored the tense mercenaries and walked straight to their table.
Crunch, Crack.
Climbing onto a chair, I stepped onto the long table, walking across it.
Plates shattered under my feet, but I’ll compensate for that later.
Or maybe I’ll just leave the cleanup to these mercenaries.
“You bastard!”
One mercenary, unable to tolerate my blatant disregard, reached out to grab me.
Whoosh—CRACK!
I easily dodged and stomped on his hand.
“Arghhh!”
“Hans!”
“That son of a—!”
Angered, several mercenaries tried to climb onto the table.
“Enough, all of you!”
From the other end of the table, the man who seemed to be their leader finally spoke, standing from his seat.
“What do you want?”
“Your lackey picked a fight with me.”
“So what?”
“Take responsibility, then.”
“What did you just say?”
The mercenary leader’s face twisted in disbelief.
“You going to sit there all day?”
Clink! Crash!
I kicked a glass toward him, shattering it in his direction. That seemed to be the final straw.
“You’ll regret this.”
The leader rolled up his sleeves and climbed onto the table.
“Boss!”
“You’re really fighting him?”
The other mercenaries gawked in shock, seemingly confident in their leader’s abilities.
“It’s started!”
“Wait, Jevan’s fighting?”
“Who’s that brat?”
By now, the commotion had drawn even more people, including other mercenaries curious about the situation.
Jevan?
Must be the leader’s name.
I glanced at his belt.
A gold badge.
So, the leader of these Silver-ranked mercenaries is himself Gold-ranked.
“Come on.”
Let’s see what he’s got.
At my arrogant taunt, Jevan squared up, adopting a fighting stance.
“You might think you’re strong, but—”
As I felt his energy, I raised an eyebrow.
‘Aura?’
Though faint, he was indeed using aura.
…Are aura users really so common?
It’s expected for knights, but now even mercenaries?
“Let’s see if you can handle my Fleet.”
“Fleet?”
He knows Fleet?
No way.
Judging by the amount of aura he has, it’s barely anything—less than I had during my early Colosseum days.
Unless he’s hiding his true strength, like Lowell…
Whoosh!
Before I could finish my thoughts, Jevan launched a surprise punch at me.
Whoosh!
Though fast, his punch wasn’t impossible to dodge—so I sidestepped easily.
“H-He dodged it!”
“He avoided Jevan’s Fleet!”
The surrounding mercenaries erupted in shock, while the leader’s expression betrayed his surprise at his failed ambush.
“…Fleet, you say?”
This?
Sure, he used aura, so it was faster than a regular punch—but nothing extraordinary.
“But Jevan’s specialty is his relentless combo! He’s Jevan the Combo!”
Just as one particularly chatty mercenary’s words reached my ears—
“Here comes my Combo Fleet!”
A flurry of punches came at me, supposedly at great speed.
It was anything but. His punches moved only as fast as his aura could support.
“Hah.”
So this is what passes for skill among common mercenaries.
Thud!
“Urgh!!”
Crash!
“Ugh!!”
Clang!
There was no point in letting him continue. I dodged his punches effortlessly and kicked him, just as I had with the bulky one earlier.
The so-called leader tumbled over the table, crashing into a heap.
“He’s faster than Jevan!”
“Who the hell is this guy?!”
I roughly ignored the mercenaries’ noise.
Step. Step.
I casually stepped off the table and approached the fallen leader.
“You… you’re… not bad…”
Thwack!
I punched him square in the face as he tried to stand, then grabbed his collar and slammed him back to the floor.
“Boss!!”
“You bastard!”
The other mercenaries rushed at me all at once.
“Overwhelm him with numbers!”
“We’ll break him apart!”
I couldn’t help but smirk.
At least they’ve got some loyalty.
**
A short while later.
“Ugh…”
“Damn it… what a monster…”
The pub was in complete disarray.
The mercenaries I’d beaten were sprawled across the floor, groaning in pain.
The other bystanders had long since fled, and the staff were trembling, waiting for something—or someone.
They’d probably called the guards.
Well, if they show up, I’ll just flash the Boyd family crest. That’s what it’s for, right?
No way am I going to jail over something like this.
Anyway—
“Hey, you’re the leader, right?”
“Ugh… y-yes…”
Press. Press.
I stepped on the face of Jevan, the supposed leader of the mercenaries, as he lay at my feet. His response was meek and polite.
So, he’s their leader.
I hadn’t planned on going this far, but seeing the mercenaries gave me an idea.
“Three days from now, come back here at the same time.”
“W-what…?”
“If you don’t show, I’ll come find you.”
For a mercenary as well-known as Jevan, tracking him down wouldn’t be difficult.
This might turn out to be a useful connection.
Afterward.
“This place is yours to tidy up.”
I left the cleanup to the mercenaries I’d beaten.
“You, you…”
Without answering, I dropped a hefty pile of silver coins on the counter as compensation for the damages.
To ensure no further objections, I flashed him the seal of the Boyd family, and he was speechless.
“I heard the report and came!”
“…Go back.”
“Huh? What a mess….”
“I’ll explain everything later, but you can go back now.”
After that, I watched the guards who had come running leave in an instant after hearing the words of the guild staff.
I returned to the Boyd mansion.
For a first outing, it had been quite productive.
