The sky was hazy and the wind was chilly. The soil sank, damp, as they march like ants at the mountain foot. Fernando and the soldiers were at the front of the formation, while the green mercenaries were right behind them, their heads bowed like servants.

  Behind them were Marco and his group, and finally, Zethir, Augustin, and Lance were at the very back.

  “So~ What's your name?” Lance asked, his chin raised high with a grin as he eyed Zethir.

  “Zethir,” the latter answered, his gaze locked on the ground.

  Lance shrugged, brushing his hair back with both of his hands. “Whatcha doin’ here?”

  “Mission,” Zethir glanced at him, his eyes containing a slight ridicule.

  Lance scoffed, yawning. “Money, ya mean.”

  “Not quite,” Zethir shook his head, turning his gaze back to the ground.

  Augustin looked between the two of them, bewildered. He opened his mouth, wanting to butt in, but couldn't bring himself to.

  “HALT!!”

  Suddenly, a loud voice boomed from the front, and the entire group froze at once. Augustin stood on his toes, trying to see what happened when Lance whistled from the side.

  “Looks like mister royal guy is in trouble~” He said, grabbing the spear on his back and spinning it around.

  “What do you mean?” Augustin looked at Lance.

  Lance pointed at the front. “Look, his mistress came to see him, with many other mistresses beside her. Isn't this what you call… household drama?”

  “...forget I asked,” Augustin wanted to roll his eyes.

  Zethir raised his head, looking at the front and seeing a soldier talking to Marco. Not long after, the same soldier came toward them.

  “Sir Zethir, sir Lance,” the soldier bowed. “We are to take a brief rest.”

  Zethir nodded, while Augustin and Lance looked around.

  “In here?” Augustin mumbled, but the soldier heard him and nodded.

  “We received a message that the enemy might've set up an ambush. We are waiting for reinforcements…”

  “Reinforcements? Who, rabbits?” Lance grinned, turning around and approaching a tree. “Don't mind me~”

  The soldier's eye twitched, when Zethir spoke up. “How long will we stay here for?”

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  “Only a few hours, sir,” the soldier looked at Zethir, being careful not to look into Zethir's eyes.

  Zethir hummed. “Alright, go back.”

  The soldier saluted, before running back to the front. As soon as he left, Augustin grumbled.

  “We're out in the open, couldn't we have found a better place?” He said, crouching on the ground.

  Although there were some trees around, they weren't abundant. Considering that it might rain soon, the sparse trees wouldn't shield them well.

  “What are you, a girl?” Zethir glanced at him. “Besides, we won't be idle for long. There will definitely be a fight,” he said.

  Augustin's face turned serious. “Does it have to do with those… mistresses?”

  Zethir sneered, though his eyes looked at Augustin as if the latter was a piece of wood. “Can you see Fernando from over here?”

  Augustin shook his head.

  “Then how can Lance see him from here? He was making things up,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Augustin's brows furrowed. “But… Lance is an elite mercenary, don't you guys have special abilities? Your eyes glow.”

  Zethir raised an eyebrow. “That's due to energy fluctuations. It doesn't have anything to do with better eyesight… if anything, it only grants us a bit of night vision.”

  “Oh… it doesn't improve your eyes?” Augustin couldn't help but touch his eyes. “If enough energy is going into your eyes to make it glow, how come it doesn't improve or damage it?”

  Zethir frowned. “I don't know, am I a spellcaster? You're the spellcaster here.”

  Augustin scratched his head. “I'm only rank 1.”

  “Tsk,” Zethir sighed. “Energy can be used in two ways: externally or internally. For spellcasters, you use the energy outside of your bodies. For us warriors, we use energy internally.”

  Zethir raised his hand, channeling his energy toward his hand. The veins under his skin started glowing dimly, making his hand look as though it was burning magma.

  “Look,” Zethir motioned for Augustin to come closer. In fact, he didn't have to—Augustin was already in front of him.

  “Because of how warriors use energy, it doesn't harm me when my energy flows through my veins. At most, it manifests like this. But for you,” Zethir stopped channeling his energy, making his hand return to normal.

  Looking at Augustin, Zethir continued. “Because your body hadn't yet adapted to energy, if you did what I did, your hand would burn and fall off.”

  Augustin shivered. “But, I read in some books that some mages can use energy to enhance their bodies. That's why I thought it would improve your eyes…”

  Zethir sighed. “I said your body isn't used to energy yet, I didn't say your body can't get used to energy. Otherwise, how could I flow energy through my veins?”

  Augustin blinked dumbly. “Oh… Then how can I…”

  “It's easy,” Zethir patted Augustin's shoulder. “Just train more.”

  “...” Augustin closed his eyes, thinking, ‘I’m sorry, but my body can't take it!’

  After an hour, the clouds in the sky started to darken, and the leaders from the mercenary groups were called by Fernando.

  Gathered in a circle, sitting on tree stumps, Fernando, Marco, Zethir, and Lance sat across each other. As for the leader of the six green mercenaries… no one remembered them.

  “We have confirmation, the enemy has an ambush ahead,” Fernando looked at Lance.

  “What?” Lance raised an eyebrow, his legs and arms crossed.

  Fernando scowled. “The nobles is said to have a hundred soldiers surrounding us, blocking our way to fortress Arho.”

  Marco raised a hand, before his strangely melodious voice echoed out. “Excuse me, but I thought we were heading to the capital?”

  Fernando shook his head. “We changed our plans.”

  “...” Marco smiled, lowering his hand.

  “What will we do once in the fortress?” Zethir asked, his voice cold and curt.

  Fernando's brows knitted, “Our job—your job is to help us guard the fortress until the royal army arrives. Until then, we must ward off all the nobles.”

  “But it sounds to me that the nobles have taken over the fortress, right~?” Lance chuckled, making Fernando grit his teeth.

  “In any case, we must reclaim fortress Arho! Before rainfall, we will intercept the nobles’ ambush and charge straight toward fortress Arho.”

  Zethir frowned, taking his sword and placing it on his lap. “We will be battling a hundred enemies now. But we'll be facing more foes at the fortress, won't we?”

  Fernando nodded, turning toward Marco. “I heard you're a spellcaster…”

  “Are you worried about the archers?” Marco smiled.

  “Yes. We need to guard against the nobles' bowmen,” Fernando said in a solemn tone. “Targia's bowmen are infamous throughout the world. One arrow can penetrate city walls and skewer three men hiding behind it.

  “They're not bad,” Zethir nodded. “But we need more…”

  Fernando coughed. “Yes, the royal family will pay each of you handsomely. Rest assured.”

  Zethir narrowed his eyes.

  Not long after, the four of them returned to their respective groups. Of course, Lance was still on his own.

  “What happened? Why the frown?” Augustin whispered into Zethir's ears.

  “Something's strange,” Zethir whispered back. “The royal family are known for being stingy. But today, Fernando was willing to spend more…”

  Augustin scratched his head. “Well… maybe the fortress is really important to them?”

  Zethir scoffed. “What do you take the royals for? They can build fortresses everyday without a spending a coin in their pockets. If the nobles are known for their archery, the royals are known for their spellcasters.”

  “Really? I never heard that before,” Augustin asked in surprise, when he felt droplets of water landing on his face.

  “... It's time,” Zethir tugged on the hood of his cloak, lowering his head. “Get ready.”

  As he spoke, a loud war horn tore through the area like the roar of a lion. Followed closely by the whistling wind, and the rain of arrows.