If not for this system, he probably would have accepted without hesitation.
As an ordinary person who had transmigrated to an alternate world with no background or backing, clinging to a noble meant gaining a foothold. Furthermore, the other party had even promised to provide an opportunity for advanced magical studies.
In this world where extraordinary power decided everything, that was a pathway countless people could only dream of.
But now he had the system as a cheat, which meant there was more than one path forward. It also meant he didn't have to tie himself down to any single faction.
Doing jobs for others was fine—as long as the rewards were sufficient, he would get the job done. But if they wanted him to swear allegiance, align himself with a certain family, and spend the rest of his life as a subordinate, he would pass.
He wasn't a knight and didn't possess the concept of dedicating loyalty to one's liege lord. Moreover, he had no desire to be dragged into the deceitful power struggles among the nobility.
If his superior ever offended someone they couldn't afford to provoke, he, as a subordinate, would also suffer the consequences.
With this system, what couldn't he do in the future? There was no need to tie himself to someone else's ship just for a shortcut.
Thus, Roger feigned contemplation for a few seconds before shaking his head, a look of slight apology appearing on his face. “I'm just a crude man; I don't understand noble etiquette.”
This rejection was delivered very tactfully.
Instead of saying “I'm unwilling,” he said “I can't do it,” shifting the blame to himself and giving Stine a way out.
Stine fell silent for a couple of seconds. Knowing that forced fruit wouldn't be sweet, he didn't press further:
“Very well. If you have other plans or some concerns in your heart, I won't force you.”
He had prepared himself for Roger's rejection, but now that it had actually happened, it was still a bit of a pity.
These days, trying to recruit someone with magical talent for one's lord was truly no easy task.
“Thank you for your understanding,” Roger said with a sincere nod.
He had no personal grievances against Stine. On the contrary, after spending the past few days together, he found the knight to be a reliable man—responsible, didn't shift blame, fought at the very front lines, and kept his word.
But being reliable was one thing; it wasn't enough to make him sell his soul.
Stine didn't leave. Standing to the side with his arms crossed, he continued to watch Roger practice archery. Only after a long while did he speak again, his tone shifting to a businesslike manner:
“By the way, since you know how to use Heal, I plan to have you specialize in treating the wounded in the rear once the battle with the goblins officially begins. This way, you won't have to fight on the front lines, staying far from danger, and it can also reduce our casualties to some extent.”
In all fairness, this offer was indeed tempting.
Staying far from the front lines as a full-time healer meant not having to risk his life against goblins. The risk of dying would plummet, and his employer would even pay him extra. With his abilities, this was well-deserved.
But there was only one problem: he wouldn't earn points.
The bulk of the points provided by the system came from kills. Although salvaging junk could accumulate a bit, compared to killing enemies, that tiny amount was completely negligible.
If he were stationed in the medical tents in the rear to set bones and stop bleeding, it would be safe, but it would also cut him off from any opportunity to earn points.
Those goblins wouldn't deliver themselves to his doorstep to be killed.
Therefore, if he wanted to become stronger, he had to go to the battlefield.
But Roger couldn't think of a good way to reject this perfectly reasonable arrangement just yet.
Stine had good intentions, and from a commander's perspective, placing someone who knew Heal in the rear was indeed the most logical decision. If Roger ungratefully insisted on charging into the battlefield, it would look highly suspicious.
He pondered for a moment and asked tentatively, “What if I fight on the battlefield while also healing the soldiers around me? Would that work?”
Stine shook his head, his tone practical:
“That would severely distract you. The battlefield isn't a training ground; enemies are everywhere. While you're casting a spell to heal a wounded soldier, a sword might thrust at you from the side.
Furthermore, Heal requires physical contact with the injured. If you bend down to save someone on the front lines, you make yourself a sitting duck.”
After a brief pause, Stine's tone softened slightly, but his stance remained firm:
“I admit your archery is top-notch and can play a major role on the main battlefield.
But in my judgment, your Heal is far more valuable than your bow. It can save soldiers who otherwise would have died, allowing us to retain a few more veterans after the war. That's not something you can trade for, no matter how many goblins you kill.”
This assessment was so objective that Roger couldn't refute it.
Rationally, Roger agreed that staying in the rear was indeed the better choice.
Anyone could kill goblins, but a mage—even one who only knew Heal—was far more valuable than a battle-hardened veteran.
If Roger were in Stine's shoes, he probably wouldn't want to send such a person to the front lines either.
But emotionally, he still wanted to accumulate points. With those goblins swarming the battlefield wave after wave, if he couldn't earn a single point, he might as well dig a hole and bury himself.
After some thought, he decided to stall for time:
“I understand your perspective, but you know how it is. As a mercenary, I need to scavenge some loot on the battlefield to make a decent living.”
He spoke in a casual tone, as if making a rather poor excuse.
“I can pay you more. With your abilities, you deserve it—it's not charity,” Stine replied, as if he had anticipated this.
Having reached this point in the conversation, Roger could see that Stine was truly and sincerely trying to keep him in the rear to maximize the utility of his Heal.
But Roger's goal had never been just about making money.
“Hmm... Let me think about it then?” Roger didn't commit on the spot, giving an ambiguous reply.
He needed to go back and think things through, to see if he could find a compromise that would satisfy Stine while still allowing him to join the battlefield and earn points.
Hearing Roger's reply, Stine stopped pestering him and turned to leave. He knew that pushing any further at this point would be uncouth.
Over the next few days, Orland City was surprisingly peaceful. No more monsters appeared in the slums, and though the search parties turned over every stone, they failed to root out the troublemaking cultists.
The Count's manor made no public announcement, but the search efforts noticeably dwindled, and the matter seemed to have quietly blown over.
Various speculations circulated in private, but regardless of the truth, the departure date was fast approaching, and no one had the leisure to investigate further.
On his tenth day in the city, Roger finally received definitive news: Count Nigel's vassals had fully assembled, and the entire army was about to set out.
Three days later, the massive army marched through the main street and left Orland City under the watchful eyes of the residents, advancing toward the west.
Colorful family banners fluttered above the army. Roger didn't know what the heraldry on the flags signified; he simply felt that these gaudy patterns fit his stereotypical impression of an alternate world.
The army stretched into a long marching column across the wasteland. The conscripts marched in loose formations, while musicians stationed on both sides of the column played simple, repetitive tunes to help the scattered soldiers maintain their direction.
During the march, the nobles did not forget to recruit mercenaries from the towns along the way. Mercenaries and hedge knights joined the army from time to time. Originally, Roger had been the only mercenary in Baron Raymond's unit, but now there were a few new faces.
Sizing up these new colleagues, Roger couldn't help but wonder just how wealthy the Baron was to be able to recruit so many people.
On second thought, it was also possible that he had too few knights under his direct command and could only hire mercenaries to bolster his numbers.
Whatever the reason, it was none of Roger's business.
After greeting his colleagues, Roger went back to minding his own business.
After all, these so-called colleagues might end up on opposing sides in the future depending on their employers, or perhaps even die on the battlefield tomorrow. He felt there was no need to invest too much into building relationships with them.
During these days of marching, Roger never slacked off on his practice.
On the seventh day of the campaign, 【Heal】 and 【Iron Wall】 reached Lv3, while 【Empowered Shot】 rose to Lv2.
At the same time, he conducted various experiments, such as channeling Life Energy into his sword or gathering mana into his Rune Ring and trying to release it, hoping to comprehend new skills.
However, the system remained silent, and none of these experiments resulted in any effective combat techniques.
Roger couldn't help but surmise that self-comprehending new skills required a stroke of luck, as well as certain underlying patterns he had yet to figure out.
On the evening of the tenth day, the army's vanguard halted before a castle.
The castle sat atop high ground, surrounded by flat, open terrain without any forests. This meant that from the castle's watchtower, the noble army's camp was completely visible.
According to Knight Stine's explanation, this castle was named Fort Morris, the first stop in reclaiming their lost territory. Without taking this castle, any subsequent advance was out of the question.
Roger listened to Knight Stine's explanation, swept his gaze across the castle and glanced at the baggage train slowly bringing up the rear of the allied forces.
According to Earth's medieval siege procedures, an army wouldn't immediately charge up with ladders upon arriving at the city gates. Trebuchets and siege ladders had to be constructed on-site, and just preparing them would take quite some time.
However, during the march, he had heard that Count Nigel had a Rank Five spellcaster under his command, and several mages had also joined the army as mercenaries. That changed the nature of things entirely.
Magic could replace trebuchets to tear open the city wall's defenses and suppress the archers on the ramparts, drastically reducing infantry casualties.
“Based on this momentum, the siege will probably begin in two or three days,” Roger guessed.
Since they were camping and on standby for the next few days, he had nothing but free time. Glancing at his status panel, he pondered for a moment, planning to find some way to continue practicing his skills in the camp.
Although two or three days wouldn't be enough to level up any of his current skills, it would at least nudge his experience bars forward. He took a stroll around the camp, wondering what methods he could use to practice here.
Looking up, a flock of birds happened to fly over the camp. Roger drew his bow, thinking that if he could shoot down a few, he could practice his archery and add a little extra to his dinner at the same time.
Seeing his actions, a few nearby soldiers who were bored out of their minds gathered around with great interest, wanting to see just how skilled this archer, whom the knight held in high regard, actually was.
Just as Roger nocked an arrow and before he could aim, Knight Stine emerged from behind the crowd.
“I've been thinking over whether I should let you participate in the battle for several days now.”
He didn't beat around the bush and went straight to his conclusion: “You can go to the battlefield. However, to prevent any accidents, someone must accompany you to look after you. After all, you are the only one here who knows Heal.”
“If anything happens to you, it would be an irreplaceable loss for us.”
After a brief moment of thought, Roger accepted the condition.
Since the other party had already made a concession, pushing for any further demands would be pushing his luck.
“Who is the person looking after me? A mercenary like me?” Roger asked.
Knight Stine nodded. “We'll have Lady Irene move with you when the time comes.”
“Her?”
Rate on N.U.
