Chapter 85
*
Early morning in Hekatai is a town of adventurers and merchants.
In Hekatai, where the export of magic stones is the largest industry, nearly every carriage is loaded with magic stones.
The main street leading to the highway was crowded with adventurers who had taken on bodyguard requests and merchants busily preparing before departure.
To avoid the congestion, vegetables and such are transported from nearby villages starting around noon, so if you want fresh vegetables, it's recommended to use a diner just past midday.
By the way, most vegetables grown in Hekatai are monopolized by expensive shops, so they can be enjoyed deliciously at any time thanks to outrageously priced refrigerated magic tools.
And I approach a rather impressive group of carriages preparing for departure inside the first barrier, at the very edge of the double barrier.
Clearly, these are not ordinary carriages, nor are they passenger coaches.
In other words, these carriages are equipped with outrageously priced refrigerated magic tools.
I was aware that I was wearing a masked face, so I wasn't bothered by the adventurers, likely bodyguards, bracing themselves.
By the way, if I were in their position, I think I'd first punch a masked man approaching me and then question who he is.
Wearing a mask in the middle of town—am I crazy or what?
Only the man with an impressive chin beard, who seemed to be the leader of the adventurers, stared at me without bracing himself.
While the other adventurers were around Rank 3 or 4, just at the level where they wouldn't accidentally die from their own physical enhancement, this guy was clearly strong.
A pure combat type, probably around Rank 6.
In other words, their employer must be someone capable of hiring someone on Merceja's level.
"Yo, Senior."
I raise a hand in greeting.
"How about some additional bodyguards?"
*
What an unpleasant way of walking.
John Parkour thought so as he watched the masked man approaching.
John is an adventurer who works with trade caravans operating across countries, so while he is registered with the Adventurer's Guild in various nations and doesn't have a fixed rank.
For the sake of "prestige," he mainly identifies himself as Rank 5 in Faltarl.
A southern warrior's gait.
Damn! It reminds me of an unpleasant guy.
John is a man who chose the stable income of guarding merchants over earning money by slashing and fighting monsters.
In terms of pure profit, hunting strong monsters would have been better, but John's conclusion was that such things should be left to the crazy ones.
The masked man forcibly reminded John of the leader of those crazy ones.
It was during a job guarding carriages traveling from Faltarl to another country.
Unfortunately, the party at the time encountered monsters that required them to prepare for the loss of several members.
Facing six Golden Ogres, John was even considering which of his comrades to sacrifice.
That's when that guy appeared.
"Kindhearted Barbara," the strongest adventurer among humanity as far as John knew.
Whether you call it a fleeting touch, a casual slash, or utter destruction, it doesn't matter.
That person said to John, "If someone's in trouble, it's human nature to want to help. Let me help you," and "No need for thanks," and then did just that.
The pinnacle of violence was like a storm, like a natural disaster in human form.
Even with physical enhancement fueled by a resolve that factored in my own death, I could barely understand what had happened.
All I understood was that the six Golden Ogres vanished without even leaving magic stones behind.
"Kindhearted Barbara" didn't even seek words of thanks, or to put it more bluntly, left without so much as a glance at John and the others.
What was left behind were John and the other adventurers who narrowly escaped death, and a trade caravan stranded on a highway riddled with holes, no amount of exaggeration enough to describe it.
For some reason, John and the others were conveniently detained by patrolling knights who arrived later to explain the situation.
The trade caravan suffered significant losses due to the circumstances of their cargo, and due to the contract with the merchant house employing them at the time, John and the others ended up with no reward.
Their lives were saved, but it was a huge blow to their wallets.
"Yo, Senior."
The masked man said in a young voice that didn't match his aura.
"How about some additional bodyguards?"
This guy is probably one of those crazy types.
John thought so.
*
It's a common story for adventurers to guard merchants' carriages in exchange for a ride.
You might think it's too careless for merchants to add strangers to their bodyguard team, but that level of trust is guaranteed by the guild card.
So, I thought the conversation would go smoothly this time as well.
I even perfectly nailed the greeting according to the adventurer's code, which I had completely forgotten about recently.
After that, I expected the usual exchange I often saw at Faltarl's town gate, where adventurers bump fists and say something like, "I'm counting on you, bro."
Or so I thought, but John, the leader of the adventurer party in charge of guarding, showed reluctance.
Is it because of the mask?
Well, it probably is.
But then, a helping hand came in.
"Shin, is that you?"
Nooo, you've got the wrong person, I'm someone else.
As I turn around with that kind of face under the mask, I see the face of the young adventurer I helped yesterday.