Mastery Is Earned

While they ate, Raymond and Henk worked out the specific terms of the commission with Bob without difficulty. Their wagons could join the caravan, and the caravan would arrange their food and lodging along the way. In exchange, Raymond and Henk would serve as guards, while the commission itself would pay only four silver coins.

Once the terms were settled, the two said goodbye to Bob and went to the town guard's headquarters.

Bob had not stated it outright, but he had first mentioned receiving orders from above and then deliberately brought up how highly Marcus regarded Raymond. Raymond therefore knew perfectly well that Marcus himself had almost certainly arranged this trip to Brightwater.

The two were familiar faces to the town guard. Not long after announcing their arrival, they were escorted to the sheriff's office, where Marcus sat waiting behind his desk.

“Sheriff.”

“Ah, you're both here. Sit down.” Marcus rose and warmly invited them to take their seats.

“Henk and I accepted a commission to escort Bob's caravan to Brightwater. We plan to take the portion of the listed spoils that belongs to us along with the caravan,” Raymond said. “So we came to pay you a visit and take care of the necessary formalities.”

Marcus nodded without any change in expression, as though he had expected this all along. “Of course. You aren't under the town guard's command and may do whatever you wish. I'll take care of the paperwork for you.”

“You've gone to a great deal of trouble for us lately. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask,” Raymond said with a smile.

“Now that you mention it, there actually is something you could help me with.” Marcus pretended to think, as though the matter had only just occurred to him. “That bookkeeper. His name was...”

“Martin.”

“Right, Martin.” Marcus smiled with satisfaction and continued, “Under questioning by the town guard, he finally told us everything he knew, including how they traded with the gnolls. But he knew nothing about the contact's true identity. He knew them only as T. I'm afraid the dead leader was the only one who knew anything more specific.”

Raymond hurriedly added, “My apologies, Sheriff. The situation was urgent, and I had no way to hold back.”

“I'm not blaming you. There's no need to be nervous.” Marcus waved a hand. “Smuggling weapons and supplies to gnolls will threaten Blackstone sooner or later. But until we know more about this particular group of gnolls, we cannot afford to alert them. Brightwater also lies outside our jurisdiction. If you have the opportunity, I would like you to make some discreet inquiries about this so-called T and the people behind them.”

Raymond nodded. “I'll do my best.”

Marcus walked to the wall, removed an ordinary wooden box from a locked cabinet, and handed it to Raymond.

Raymond accepted the box and glanced at Marcus before opening it. Resting on a piece of linen was a scale with a chipped edge, stained with dried black blood.

“This is...” Raymond recognized the scale and was about to speak when he heard rapid breathing beside him. Turning, he saw Henk staring wide-eyed at it, apparently reacting strongly to the scale.

Henk's reaction lasted only an instant before he concealed it. Marcus, meanwhile, had lowered his head in thought and did not appear to notice anything unusual.

“You should recognize this scale. It's the evidence you and Carter brought back from the goblin nest,” Marcus said. “Brightwater is different from a small town like ours. Take the scale there and ask around. Someone may know what it came from and what connection it has to the goblins.”

At that point, Marcus heaved another heavy sigh and murmured with his head lowered, “First a fire-breathing goblin, then gnolls trading with humans, and the mist over the Blackstone Mountains growing thinner by the day. I hear conditions are especially dire in the north. At this rate, I wouldn't even be surprised if those monsters began attacking human lands...”

Raymond put away the wooden box without saying anything. Henk seemed to shift when he heard the word “north,” but he too remained silent.

Stolen story; please report.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Raymond and Henk bid Marcus farewell and left the town guard's compound.

Only when they had gone a considerable distance and Raymond had confirmed no one was nearby did he look curiously at Henk. “Henk, I noticed something back there. Do you recognize this black scale?”

Henk thought for a moment, then nodded and shook his head. “Yes and no. It just seems familiar.”

“Familiar? Have you seen that Dragonblood Goblin before?”

“Dragonblood? What's that? This scale came from a goblin?” Henk's eyes widened. He seemed to be hearing of a Dragonblood Goblin for the first time, but the word “dragonblood” itself clearly provoked a much stronger reaction from him.

He deliberated for a long time, seemingly torn over what to say. Only after quite a while did he slowly exhale. “Nothing but old stories meant to frighten children.”

Raymond was curious, but he could tell that Henk did not want to discuss the subject. Rather than press him, he changed the topic. “We're leaving for Brightwater tomorrow. Is there anything you need to prepare?”

Henk touched the hand-and-a-half sword at his waist. “A sword is enough.”

“Speaking of which, do you want to keep training this afternoon? I'd like to spar with you again,” Raymond said expectantly.

His Basic Swordsmanship Proficiency had already reached ninety-nine. It would be ideal if he could raise it to one hundred before they left. He wondered whether reaching one hundred would bring some special change or take his understanding of swordsmanship to a new level.

At the mention of another sparring match, a faint smile appeared on Henk's impassive face. “Is that so?”

With that, the two changed direction and headed toward Carter's training yard.

When they reached Carter's house, they found Mira gripping a wooden sword in both hands and clumsily imitating the movements she had seen them practice.

Carter sat by the door, drinking ale from a flask as he bluntly pointed out the flaws in Mira's movements and occasionally chuckled.

The wooden swords were little more than toys to Raymond and Henk, but their weight was not so easy for Mira to manage. Simply lifting one was strenuous for a little girl her size, let alone swinging it repeatedly in practice.

“Little One? You've started already?” Raymond asked in surprise.

“Raymond!” Mira put down the wooden sword and ran excitedly toward them. “Master Carter said that if I buy his meals and bring them to him every day, he'll teach me swordsmanship.”

Carter chuckled from the side. “You know I can't easily prepare my own meals right now. She runs errands for me, and I teach her a few fundamentals. It works out perfectly.”

Raymond stroked Mira's head. “You can learn, but it's too soon for you to use a wooden sword. You aren't strong enough yet. Start with a stick and practice your grip, footwork, and the most basic movements.”

“It isn't too soon at all!” Mira tucked in her chin as she spoke. “Master Carter said he taught you too, and you've only been practicing for a month or two. If I start now, then by the time I'm as old as you, you definitely won't be able to beat me.”

Raymond burst out laughing. “You're right about that. Keep working hard.”

Raymond had no reason to stop Mira from learning swordsmanship. He had never opposed the idea; he had only worried that she was too thin and frail. Now that Carter was there to watch over her and teach her from the fundamentals onward, there should be no problem.

Henk also watched Mira with a smile. “Keep at it.”

“Mm!” Seemingly encouraged, Mira picked up the wooden sword again and resumed practicing her swings.

Raymond and Henk exchanged a glance, then walked into the training yard. Each picked up a wooden sword, and they began to spar.

Although the past few days of training had taught Raymond many ways to deal with opponents larger and stronger than himself, the results had not been particularly dramatic.

For one thing, the gap between their physiques was simply too vast. Henk's overwhelming strength made Raymond's technical improvements seem almost insignificant. For another, as they continued to spar, Henk grew increasingly comfortable applying his own swordsmanship. He appeared to be regaining his former familiarity with the weapon, making him progressively more difficult for Raymond to handle.

Against Henk's swings, Raymond had no option but to evade. Whenever he tried to parry, the enormous difference in strength repeatedly drove him backward.

This time was no exception. Holding his sword in one hand, Henk used his height and reach to deliver a powerful diagonal cut at Raymond. The strike came with tremendous force. Raymond retreated half a step as though intending to avoid it.

Henk was already accustomed to Raymond's methods. He pressed forward and brought the wooden sword down diagonally. This time, however, Raymond's retreat had only been bait.

The instant the wooden sword fell, he stepped half a pace diagonally to the outside of the blade and raised his own weapon over his head with both hands. Rather than meet Henk's sword head-on, Raymond caught it on the strong of his blade near the guard, then turned his wrists along with its momentum and guided the cut past his side.

Once Raymond had redirected the strike, Henk's chest was briefly exposed. The small step had also closed the distance between them. Using that forward step, Raymond brought his blade back into line. The tip of his wooden sword came to rest firmly against Henk's chest.

“Hm?” Carter's eyes widened as he watched from the side. He had not expected Raymond's parry and counterattack to be so clean and decisive.

Mira did not understand what she had seen. She merely stared blankly at Raymond and Henk, but as far as she could remember, this was the first time Raymond had ever landed a hit on him.

Henk looked down at the wooden sword point resting against his chest. After a moment of silence, he finally smiled. “A fine strike.”

Raymond smiled faintly as the system panel appeared at just the right moment, displaying the message he had long awaited.

[Basic Swordsmanship Proficiency +1]

[Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 1 (100/100)]

[Basic Swordsmanship Leveled Up!]

[Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 2 (1/100)]