Chapter 21

Chapter 21
## Chapter 21
Unlike the noble gardens filled with ancient works of art, the streets of the common folk reeked of humidity and decay. Only those who knew them well could understand the true disparity.

One’s living conditions are like a suit that fits perfectly: it is easy to put on, but difficult to take off.

However, Dereck felt completely at ease walking through the tavern-lined streets alongside an old friend.

“Noble scum would only fatten you up like a pig. When I heard you’d been cooped up in that ducal mansion for months, I let out a great sigh.”

“Pheline, you worry too much. And not all nobles are corrupt.”

“Wow, look at you. A few months living like a king and you’re already part of the family. Next thing I know, you’ll be swearing loyalty as a knight.”

“Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?”

Dereck let out a small chuckle and glanced at the tavern street. This place, frequented by hardened mercenaries, was known as one of the most dangerous areas in Ebelstain.

A place where people killed for a handful of silver coins. Surviving there meant becoming familiar with violence. And Pheline, just like Dereck, was a girl who made her living as a mercenary in those tavern-plagued streets.

Don’t be fooled by her delicate appearance: she could finish off dozens of Ain without even changing her expression.

Dereck and Pheline never delved into each other’s pasts. But judging by her occasional outbursts of hatred toward the nobility… it seemed her family had also met an unpleasant fate at their hands.

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That was how things were in those times. Although it was common, Dereck was not so insensitive as to speak of it in front of a victim. Nothing was more imprudent than offering an “objective perspective” to someone living through a tragedy.

Still, Pheline had grown up with a deep resentment toward nobles, though she was not closed-minded. She might curse them behind their backs, but she didn’t act rashly in front of them and even, on occasion, accepted jobs related to the nobility.

In the world of mercenaries, sacrificing pride for money was common. Criticizing her now for hypocrisy would have been in poor taste. Here, survival was equivalent to righteousness.

Words like “coward” or “sell-out” were usually the laments of those who were left behind.

*Creak*

When they entered “Tears of Beldern,” a dilapidated tavern situated on a corner crowded with other pubs, the yawning bar guard shot them a glance.

“Boss, look who’s here.”

“Oh, Pheline. And… isn’t that Dereck? What an honor to see the future famous magic instructor of Ebelstain.”

“You’re still as dramatic as ever, boss.”

While Jayden scratched his coarse beard as a greeting, Dereck smiled shamelessly and sat at the table.

Even though it was late, the corners of the tavern were quite busy. Most of the customers were mercenaries in gleaming armor, suggesting they preferred a quiet spot to the rowdy crowds.

Not wanting to interfere in Jayden’s business, Dereck spoke in a low voice.

“It took me longer than I thought. That fifteen-gold-coin job from Adel wasn’t as easy as it sounded.”

“Of course. Since when has earning money been easy? It’s a good business, and quite profitable. In fact, I might owe you a favor.”

Jayden let out a chuckle and poured fruit wine into a generously sized glass for Dereck.

Pheline didn’t care for formality; she drank hers in one gulp and let out a loud “Kahhak!” of satisfaction.

Accustomed to seeing noble ladies drink tea with elegance, Dereck felt pleasantly comforted watching her drink with such confidence.

Noticing his gaze, Pheline stared straight into his eyes, as if asking: “What are you looking at?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

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“Seeing you, Pheline, is like coming home.”

“That’s flattering, but thinking of you locked up in that noble mansion suddenly puts me in a bad mood. Are you implying I lack dignity?”

“Yes, but you’ve never liked pretending to be a noble, have you?”

“Mmm… there’s no denying that.”

Pheline tied back her platinum blonde hair again, taming the stray strands before securing it with a ribbon, while Jayden brought a cup over to Dereck.

“A toast to celebrate. Our only mage of the Beldern Mercenary Corps has finally returned. What could be more profitable?”

“Thanks. But you’re charging it to my account, right?”

“Your sharpness is your worst flaw.”

Jayden and Dereck burst into laughter for no apparent reason. Dereck raised his cup and took a few sips. As he set it on the table, Jayden crossed his arms and asked:

“So, did you manage to gather all the money?”

“Of course. But that’s not the important part.”

“What is more important than money?”

“More money.”

Dereck showed them an old book he had fastened to his belt. **Books and Literature.**

At first, Jayden and Pheline looked at it with indifference. But when they realized it was a grimoire, their eyes widened in astonishment.

“What… what is that? Dereck, don’t tell me… is it a two-star grimoire?”

“No, a three-star. I got it from the Duke’s underground library.”

“…Three stars? I didn’t hear wrong, did I?”

Pheline leaned in to get a better look at the book Dereck wore on his belt.

Although she had no knowledge of magic and couldn’t judge the level of a grimoire at a glance, knowing Dereck wasn’t the type to brag, she couldn’t help but feel amazed.

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Even a two-star grimoire was practically unattainable for common people. Three-star grimoires were so rare they sometimes appeared in exclusive nobility auctions.

Jayden didn’t seem to believe the book Dereck had on his belt was truly three-star either, so he checked it several times.

“They gave something like that to a commoner? Dereck, have you learned to show off like a noble?”

“I’m simply telling the truth.”

“Don’t buy into it.”

Pheline took another drink, trying to calm herself. “Stroke of luck” was the perfect phrase to describe it.

If he sold the grimoire for a fair price, he could live much better, in a much better place, and with much better equipment.

If he wanted to, it was enough for him to leave his lower-class life behind, but Dereck didn’t seem to have any intention of selling the grimoire anytime soon.

“When the time comes to turn it into money, I’ll treat you both to something big.”

“Yeah, you better. And make a good donation to our Beldern Mercenary Corps.”

Jayden laughed again. After all, he had sincerely celebrated Dereck’s success.

“Have you found any new work lately? I can start working tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about that. As you know, in this business there are never enough mages.”

“But Dereck, you just got back. Are you sure you want to start working already?”

Pheline spoke with a hint of concern, but Dereck easily dismissed it.

“I’ll start with some simple monster hunts. I’ve gotten a bit rusty after so much rest in that comfortable noble mansion.”

At Dereck’s lament, Jayden let out a chuckle.

***

From the following day, Dereck dedicated his time to performing various monster-hunting missions assigned to him by the Beldern Mercenary Corps.

His days of peace seemed like a distant memory as he explored the outskirts of Ebelstain, annihilating monsters en masse.

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Sometimes he worked alone; other times, he walked with Pheline. As always, work was not lacking.

Goblins, trolls, gremlins, and similar creatures frequently prowled near the borderlands. Many were monsters that had escaped from nearby labyrinths and had begun attacking merchants and travelers, forcing periodic hunts. For mercenaries, hunting these creatures was often their livelihood.

There were also minor tasks: driving away beggars invading territories, punishing thugs, eliminating troublemakers harassing merchants, and even simple escort missions. Dereck’s repertoire of tasks was broad.

He wasn’t picky; he accepted anything he could handle. Just as he had since his youth, he gave himself completely. During the day, he walked the tavern streets, earning the trust of the customers, and at night, he took refuge in his room in the commercial district, studying the grimoire.

On hunting days, he focused on using untested spells to perfect his mastery, and on his days off, he practiced mana control alone in the meadows outside Ebelstain. He was so busy that time slipped away.

By the time Dereck returned to the tavern streets, it was already late spring. Without noticing, summer had ended and autumn was approaching.

Throughout all that time, he never allowed himself to relax, constantly perfecting his magic. One of Dereck’s greatest strengths was his unwavering consistency.

“…Mmm. I feel like I can almost reach it, but it escapes me.”

Dereck, who practiced magic in the fields outside whenever he had time, reached his hand toward the sky.

The boy longed to become a three-star mage.

It might have been a dream too ambitious for someone his age, but he never stopped training in magic.

Among the nobility, there were child prodigies who reached the three-star rank during their initiation ceremony.

To the common people, it might have sounded like a fairy tale, but for Dereck, who had mastered magic faster than nobles since childhood, it wasn’t an unrealistic story.

With that hope, Dereck studied the three-star grimoire daily. However, breaking the barrier to reach three stars was not easy. He felt he was still missing something vital.

Even so, the only thing Dereck could do was keep trying. Even those born with innate talent had to strive to see results.

He rarely slept more than four hours a night, and the cost of candles to read grimoires every night was a burden. But he saw it as an investment.

By the time Dereck’s magic had matured enough to handle two-star spells, the leaves had already fallen and the first snowfall was beginning to drop.

*Bang!*

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The “Tears of Beldern” tavern.

When the creaking wooden door burst open, Dereck appeared, covered in blood.

The heat from the fireplace filled the tavern while the cold from outside seeped in. A few snowflakes floated in, hitting the wooden floor and quickly melting into droplets.

The customers, who were enjoying the cozy atmosphere and drinking beer on a winter night, swallowed hard at the sight of the boy in the doorway.

The boy, with hair white as snowflakes, showed no change in expression. Although covered in blood, he seemed uninjured.

It was evident that the blood was not his own.

With boots covered in thick snow, the boy entered carrying the head of a massive beast slung over his shoulder.

Behind him, Pheline came running in and quickly headed to the fireplace to warm her hands.

“Ugh, it’s so cold, so cold! Boss, a hot tea, please! My fingers are freezing!”

Ignoring Pheline’s drama, Dereck moved forward and dropped the massive harpy head onto the bar. The pungent smell of blood intensified.

“It took a while.”

“Wow, did you really go into the heart of the Kent mountains in this weather? What resilient young people!”

“I admit, it was a bit reckless. I won’t go camping in the snow again. I almost froze.”

“What does it matter? It’s good to face difficulties when one is young.”

As Dereck took off his leather gloves, stained with monster blood, and left them on the bar, Jayden quickly took the grotesque harpy head to the back workshop.

After a brief conversation about completing the reward, he served a hot drink made with honey wine.

On the other side of the tavern, the customers—mostly mercenaries—whispered in low voices. They could easily guess the identity of the blood-covered boy.

Dereck was making a name for himself in the mercenary world of Ebelstain.

There were many mercenaries, but few who completed their missions systematically, and even fewer who persevered.

Customers lined up to entrust him with jobs, and Jayden, caught in the middle, had to carefully choose which ones to accept.

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“…”

When Jayden brought him a cloth soaked in warm water, Dereck used it to wipe the dried blood from his face. Without looking at the mercenaries whispering in the corner, he checked his equipment.

Dereck’s income had multiplied since his youth, and by saving even the money he received from the noble Duplain family, he had more than enough to live on.

Maintaining this pace meant that buying a wand or staff of his own, though expensive, was no longer a distant dream.

“You’ve worked hard, Dereck. No one else would dare to brave the snow and climb a mountain to bring back a harpy’s head.”

“Don’t other groups hunt monsters regardless of the weather?”

“They take camping gear and go out in large groups. None of them do it like it’s just a simple walk in the hills.”

“…It wasn’t a walk. I almost froze.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll make sure you get the proper compensation for this job. The client knows it wasn’t easy.”

Jayden chuckled while setting out some glasses.

He kept himself busy cleaning, knowing that once everything was in order, Dereck would return to his lodgings to rest.

“You’ve been through a lot. Do you want to take a break?”

“Have any new jobs come up?”

“It would be stranger if they hadn’t.”

“I planned to rest tomorrow, but after that, I’m willing to accept anything that comes up.”

Dereck responded indifferently as he adjusted his bootlaces.

Seeing Dereck ready for another mission after such an ordeal, Jayden couldn’t help but click his tongue.

Still, having an active mage in the mercenary group was a blessing. Jayden let out a chuckle as he rummaged through a pile of papers under the bar.

“Still, after such a commotion in the snowy mountains, you must be exhausted. Better if the next job doesn’t require too much effort.”

“Mmm… A simple job offer just came in with decent pay.”

“Where on earth do you find a job like that?”

“Well, there’s always a reason why a job is easy and well-paid. You can turn it down if you’re not interested.”

Jayden placed a job application form on the bar counter.

“It’s from Count Belmiard. The Rohel mercenary group on West Street already rejected it. They’re looking for someone who can use magic.”

“…A noble’s request was rejected? Rohel is a large group, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s a strange situation.”

It wasn’t common for prominent noble families—with a fair amount of commoners in their service—to make requests to mercenary groups. The more powerful the authority, the greater the surplus of labor they had.

That was why requests from noble families were rare, especially those requiring good remuneration. Nobles were known for their extravagant spending.

Naturally, mercenaries competed fiercely for such noble jobs.

Last spring, the Beldern Mercenaries were only able to get a job from Duke Duplain because Lady Aiselin had spread the request everywhere looking for a tutor for Diella.

Normally, a small group like theirs wouldn’t even get a glance from noble families.

Dereck narrowed his eyes as he read the request.

“…Yes, there’s always a reason.”

The family of Count Belmiard was looking for a commoner to help them in a magic duel. The announcement said that anyone capable of using first-level magic would do.

There were probably plenty of opponents for a duel inside the noble mansion. Specifically requesting a commoner was, in essence, looking for someone to hit for practice.

There was no logic in a commoner trying to surpass a noble mage, and almost no one could do it.

Dereck seemed to understand why no one had accepted the job. It was rare to find active commoners who knew magic. They had more lucrative job options and wouldn’t bother accepting a job that would only bring them humiliation.

Even the mages of the Rohel Mercenaries had their own hunts and escort missions; none of them wanted to be a punching bag for grumpy nobles.

The pay wasn’t good enough to make it worthwhile, especially for such a noble job.

“So I just have to participate in a magic duel in the noble district?”

Still, Dereck was too exhausted from the long harpy hunt.

He didn’t want a job that forced him to travel far, so he preferred something that fit his profile.

“Are you going to take it?”

“Just lose with dignity and take a few hits. I’m in!”

“If you don’t mind, perfect.”

Dereck spoke so naturally that he tapped the floor a couple of times with his fitted boots, slung the leather bag over his shoulder, and stood up.

“The mead was good.”

“It’s on your tab, friend.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

Dereck planned to go home, bathe, and study his grimoire. Even after the long journey, he had no intention of neglecting his magic training.

Seeing that Dereck was always on the move, Jayden waved him away.

“Pheline. You’ll get burned if you sleep there.”

“Eek!”

Pheline, who was dozing by the warmth of the fire, woke up startled by panic.

Dereck said goodbye and once more opened the wooden door of the tavern, facing the freezing winter night.

The customers drank their beer in silence, watching Dereck’s figure disappear into the snow-covered darkness.

Time had forged the boy.

Braving the storm, his silhouette as he returned to his lodging was that of an experienced mercenary, hardened by life.

A year had passed.

Soon, on his birthday, he would turn 17.