The next morning, a pale yellow banner embroidered with a black knight appeared in the woods behind them.
Immediately after, a large group of soldiers filed out of the forest, their ranks far more orderly than the exhausted troops under Baron Raymond's command.
After completing the handover with the knight leading this unit, Knight Stine ordered a retreat. Before leaving, Roger noticed that the Golden Falcon Group was also packing up their gear, clearly having no intention of participating in the subsequent offensive.
By the time they returned to the camp at the foot of the mountain, the sun had already passed its zenith, slowly drifting toward the west.
After dismissing the rest of the soldiers to rest, Knight Stine led Roger and Irene into the Baron's tent.
Knight Stine briefly reported on the unit's withdrawal, then turned the conversation to the scouting mission.
Roger and Irene had already aligned their stories, claiming they had waited for rescue in front of the collapsed rubble the entire time. As for any goblins or fleshy sarcomas, they claimed to have heard nothing of them.
Baron Raymond nodded after listening, not pressing for details, and only casually asked about their general experience inside the cave.
While Baron Raymond and Knight Stine were focused on the conversation, Roger quietly reached into his pouch and took out the last bit of Suggestion Dust.
Casting Windwalk to release a subtle, directed current of air, he let the dust drift noiselessly toward Baron Raymond and Knight Stine.
Then Roger spoke, “Could you avoid revealing any information about Irene or me to anyone? Just write fake names on the roster.”
Baron Raymond and Knight Stine both nodded.
“That will be all for now. You may go back and rest,” Baron Raymond said, waving his hand.
The two bowed and took their leave, the tent flap falling shut behind them.
Watching them walk away, Knight Stine looked at Baron Raymond.
“My Lord, I don't quite understand. What is their intention in doing this? Is it just that they don't want others to know their names?”
“Not wanting us to reveal their real names means they don't want certain people to know of their existence,” Baron Raymond replied calmly.
“What kind of people are most afraid of having their names known? Those who saw something they shouldn't have and don't want to be silenced.”
Knight Stine frowned even deeper. “Then shouldn't they have reported it to us? If they really discovered something important in the cave, we could have prepared in advance.”
“These two suspect there are 'untrustworthy' individuals within the nobility. In their eyes, any intelligence written into an official report has the potential to be leaked,” Baron Raymond said. He picked up his quill again, not continuing the topic, and simply instructed: “Let them have their fake names. Just make up two names on the roster, anything will do. After all, the Count only cares about whether someone completed the mission, not who they actually are.”
...
Roger returned to his tent, pulled the flap shut, and opened his system panel.
After exchanging for the Suggestion Dust, his point balance was at 9,110.
This number was the highest since he had transmigrated, but he knew very well that with the system shop's pricing, these points wouldn't last long if he wasn't careful.
Roger first searched the shop for short-range movement skills.
After all, Windwalk was essentially an acceleration skill. While it was outstanding for kiting and chasing, when faced with extreme close-quarters situations, no matter how fast he could accelerate, it still required reaction time.
【Name: Flash Step
Description: Compresses Life Energy into the legs and releases it the moment the feet strike the ground, creating an explosive propulsion that accelerates the body to speeds difficult to track with the naked eye, covering several paces in an instant.
The propulsion distance depends on the skill level and the amount of Life Energy injected. It can be used consecutively, but intervals that are too short will lead to accumulated muscle fatigue.
Maximum Level: Lv5
Requirement: Life Energy Lv2
Exchange Cost: 1,200 points】
“Points -1,200, balance 7,910.”
As for why he didn't exchange for a teleportation skill, it was because his level wasn't high enough, and he couldn't afford it anyway.
Although Flash Step couldn't pass through walls, its escape efficiency on open terrain was at least as good as Windwalk, and the two could be used in tandem.
After solving his lack of escape options, he began searching for close-combat skills. He typed a few keywords into the search bar, and after a round or two of filtering, locked onto a target.
【Name: Unbalancing Strike
Description: Shrouds a weapon with Life Energy to release a directional shockwave upon striking an opponent's weapon or armor, disrupting their center of gravity and balance.
The duration of the opponent's imbalance depends on the strength gap between both parties and the skill level. At best, it breaks their stance and exposes a weakness; at worst, it knocks them down briefly.
Can be used with any melee weapon.
Maximum Level: Lv5
Requirement: Life Energy Lv2
Exchange Cost: 900 points】
“Points -900, balance 7,010.”
“These points really burn fast.”
Seeing nearly ten thousand points vanish by two thousand in the blink of an eye, Roger couldn't help but suspect that whoever designed this system had balanced the numbers with their feet.
With a 'might as well try' attitude, he continued searching the shop, thinking that if he could find an ability or item that could copy other people's skills, he wouldn't need to spend all his time buying from the shop, and the saved points could be hoarded for emergencies.
After typing keywords like 'copy,' 'mimic,' or 'learn' into the search bar, several entries popped up on the interface.
But upon seeing the prices, Roger closed the panel expressionlessly.
He couldn't afford them.
“True, if such absurd things could be exchanged in the early stages, the host's eyes would probably go blank and their brain folds would be ironed flat after a while.”
Shifting his focus away from the shop, Roger opened his system inventory. His gaze fell on his half-broken Fine Steel Sword, then glanced at Irene's broken sword.
“Repair,” he tried issuing a command to the system.
A system prompt popped up before his eyes: “Requires 210 points. Confirm?”
Roger pressed confirm, and the two swords were restored to their original state.
“Point balance: 6,800.”
...
Over the next week, nothing happened.
As Count Nigel's main force fully took over the battlefield, units from other nobles retreated down the mountain every day, returning to the camp at the foot of the mountain to rest and reorganize.
Some units had lost nearly half their numbers compared to when they set out, and the beds in the medical camp were in short supply.
Roger guessed that they had also encountered bitter battles in the mountains.
During this time, Baron Raymond was not assigned any new combat missions, and his troops temporarily remained on standby.
But other than daily patrols and sentry duty, there was no combat. Roger focused his energy on practicing his new skills. After all, as long as the war wasn't over, he would have to return to the battlefield sooner or later.
While sparring with Irene, Roger noticed she was still using the sword she had picked up. When he asked if she wanted to buy a new one from the camp blacksmith, she simply shook her head, saying she would wait until the war was over to buy a new one with her bounty.
So during mealtime, while Irene was out eating, Roger took the fully repaired sword and left it in her tent, considering it payback for her always helping him take hits.
After finishing this, he quietly slipped out of the tent.
The day after he returned the sword, Baron Raymond's messenger notified all the mercenaries to gather at the main tent.
When Roger and Irene arrived, they found that besides the two of them, a few other mercenaries with low presence were also there.
Some of these people were responsible for logistics and transport, while others had stayed to guard the camp the entire time, so they rarely interacted with them normally.
Once everyone had arrived, the Baron announced, “The goblin nest has been completely captured. The war is over. According to your contracts, I will now distribute your bounties.”
Hearing this, the others showed expressions of joy, but Roger was still a bit dazed.
It's over just like that?
The deeper passages blocked by the collapse, the cultist network marked on that map, the mysterious man plotting with Sargon...
Before they even had a chance to investigate any of these clues, the war was declared over.
But on second thought, the nobles' goal from the start was to clear out the goblins. Now that the nest had been taken, in their eyes, the mission was indeed complete.
As for the cultists, perhaps Count Nigel had other arrangements, or perhaps he simply didn't plan to look deeper into it.
Or perhaps the mole was pulling strings from behind the scenes.
A few minutes later, a heavy pouch was handed to him. Inside were about ten gold coins and a large handful of silver coins.
With the cost of living in this world, this was already an income sufficient for him to live comfortably for a long time.
“You are free to leave at any time, or you can follow the main army back to Orland City to attend the victory banquet,” Baron Raymond added.
The mercenaries dispersed in twos and threes, and Roger walked out of the tent carrying his bounty and a trace of lingering doubt.
Irene walked beside him, side-by-side along the path.
“Now that the bounty has been settled, I don't plan on staying much longer.” Irene cast a few more glances at him but said nothing more.
“Alright, I understand.” Roger nodded, acknowledging her words.
That was the life of a mercenary—contracts end, everyone goes their separate ways. The next time they met might be on another battlefield, or perhaps they would never see each other again.
He had no intention of forcing her to stay; after all, everyone had their own aspirations. Besides, the world was vast and full of opportunities, and it wasn't as if he would act like it was the end of the world just because a woman was leaving.
Irene continued, “I hope the next time we meet, we won't be enemies.”
This time Roger didn't answer, only silently griping in his mind about whether she had just raised a flag.
“Lastly,” Irene patted the sword hanging at her waist, her lips curling slightly upward, “thank you.”
Rate on N.U.
