Ch. 16
Chapter 16: [The Assassin Elliot and the Two Arrogant Knights]
In a white-walled workshop opposite the soldiers’ barracks of Thornfall Outpost—
Scattered across the table were crumpled calculation sheets and task notes, mixed with material lists and price tables.
Every single page was marked with charcoal—scratched, crossed out, and rewritten.
Four people sat around the table.
A young, silent swordsman and a tall female mage draped in a robe sat quietly, watching the two men locked in a tense exchange before them.
The room echoed with Randall Ryska’s weary voice:
“I’ve already sought advice from the Guild Guards who were once professional soldiers,” he said softly, glancing at everyone at the table. “For a bandit suppression mission, we need a sufficiently strong armored melee unit. At the very least, these two knights must be included in this operation.”
“Why don’t you do the math—splitting seven ways versus five? How big is the difference? And how will we divide the loot?” The lean man in black sitting across the table sneered as he twirled a large skull coin between his fingers. “This kind of job only pays off when there are fewer than five people. The more we have, the less everyone earns. We took this big job because we’re short on money lately. But now you’re dragging in random people—purely a loss-making move. We’ll only get poorer.”
He looked to be in his thirties, dressed in clean, close-fitting black leather. His equipment was light—beyond a thin chainmail shirt and jointed leather guards, he wore almost no armor.
A dark red scarf was tied around his neck; two poisoned, serpentine short sabers hung from his belt along with a bundle of throwing darts.
Across his chest, ropes, grappling hooks, and hand drills were strapped—a compact kit of light, specialized tools.
Though chainmail was lightweight and effective against blades, it was expensive due to its intricate craftsmanship.
This black-clad adventurer was clearly among the more successful kind.
“Elliot, this advice came from the Guild Guards. Without proper front-line units, a bandit hunt could easily cost us our lives,” Randall replied.
“Oh? So whatever they say, you just believe it, Ryska?” sneered the man named Elliot.
“I believe them because they have experience fighting bandits. I don’t believe you—because you’ve never faced them head-on. It’s that simple,” Randall pressed his palms against the table. “Even if you’re a Level 4 assassin, your combat experience against human foes is still inferior to those former imperial soldiers…”
“Oh really? I’ve already killed over twenty bandits. This coin here—” Elliot calmly flipped the skull coin across his fingers, letting it roll along his knuckles, “—is loot from one of them. Bandits, pirates, northern raiders—I’ve slain more than a hundred in total. Still think I lack experience? You can take my Adventurer ID and check my records in the Guild archive. Every single mission is logged.”
“But—” Randall tried to speak, only to be cut off.
“I’m not saying thinking things through is bad, Randall Ryska,” Elliot interrupted, his voice smooth. “The reason I joined your team in the first place is because you think carefully and listen to advice. That’s your strength. I admire that.” His wrist flicked upward, talon-like fingers catching the skull coin.
“But I think you’ve become overly cautious—so cautious you’ve lost direction.”
“You give too much weight to others’ advice. You forget—they are not like us.”
“Yes, of course the Guild Guards know how to fight human enemies—because they’re not adventurers. They’re retired imperial soldiers!”
“Those soldiers have a mighty, wealthy empire behind them. They don’t pay for their gear or ammunition—they just pile on armor, supplies, and men, then charge forward like War Knights. That’s a damn military mindset!”
“Frontline heavy melee units? You’d have to be insane to charge bandits head-on! What are you, a knight? Planning to challenge their leader to a duel like some noble fool?” Elliot’s smirk deepened.
“Adventurers fight smart—we use the terrain. Who told you to attack head-on?”
“And heavy armored warriors, really? Do you think they can even cross the Kanna Plains on foot? They’d lose half their kneecaps before even reaching the camp!”
“If heavy armor was so useful, why did the Edric Empire cut back on the army and invest in adventurers? Why not just send soldiers into the Wasteland or the Demon King’s Dungeon?”
“Remember who you are, Ryska.”
“We’re not soldiers—we’re adventurers. The Guild and the Empire won’t pay you for becoming one. You pay for everything yourself—gear, tools, team size. Every coin must be counted. Especially team size—it determines your income!”
“Why do most high-ranking adventuring parties have only five or six members? Because outside the exceptionally profitable areas like Demon Domains or Dungeons, most mid-to-high missions only pay off when split among five or six. But you? You’re forming a seven-person team!”
Silence. Randall was scolded so harshly his face went pale.
“I… I can give up my share,” Randall said hesitantly.
“How much?” Elliot asked coolly. “Five thousand divided by five equals a thousand per person. By seven, that’s seven hundred. Each of the four others loses three hundred—that’s twelve hundred total. Even if you forfeit your seven hundred, it doesn’t make up the gap. What then? You’ll pay five hundred out of pocket? You’ve been saving up, and this is how you’ll spend it?”
He snorted.
“I’m older and higher level than you. I don’t need your charity. Forget my three hundred difference—leave me out of it. But if the others agree to lose three hundred each, then fine, go ahead.” He leaned back lazily, withdrawing from the discussion. “Or better yet, tell those two so-called knights to get lost. What kind of adventurers wear heavy armor? They can’t even walk properly in it!”
Randall sighed.
“I just… want to make sure nothing goes wrong,” he murmured, glancing at Grad the swordsman and Selina the mage. “I’ve seen too many adventurers die because they weren’t prepared. I care about everyone here. I want us to stay together—maybe for a lifetime.”
“Every mission is dangerous. Anything can happen.”
“Just like how I always overstock supplies before leaving—beast repelling torches, antidotes, arrows. Better to have them and not need them than the other way around.”
“Elliot, you’re a Level 4 assassin and thief. Maybe for you, stealth and assassination are enough to handle bandits from the shadows. But you’re not the whole team. I must consider everyone else. They lack your experience and skill—they’re still new.”
“If the mission fails, you, as a Level 4 assassin, will survive. But the others won’t. I must protect the entire team. The weaker ones can’t be abandoned.”
“Bandits are dangerous and unpredictable. These two knights are insurance—they can at least guarantee our safety.”
“If anyone needs money, take from my seven hundred. If that’s not enough, I’ll add two hundred more. I just want everyone safe.”
He looked around the table.
“No need,” said the greatsword warrior, shaking his head. “Seven hundred’s fine.”
“You’re always like this, Randall… seven hundred is enough. We’ll all still earn something,” the mage said brightly. “Besides, you haven’t counted the loot—bandit weapons, even junk ones, can fetch a price. Sell them as scrap metal and you’ll still get a few thousand extra.”
“Thank you.” Randall took a deep breath. “Then we just wait for Ruby to bring the two knights back…”
He paused in thought.
“Also, Elliot—I think you’ve underestimated those knights.” Randall chuckled. “Even in heavy armor, they move freely after long travel. You’ll see when you meet them.”
Knock, knock, knock.
A steady rhythm at the door.
“Ruby’s back… come in!” Randall called, rising to greet.
The workshop door opened.
“Welcome, um… the Scavengers of Thornfall Outpost—and welcome, you two knights.” Ruby awkwardly gestured, doing her best to sound composed while saying the ridiculous team name.
“Welcome, knights,” Randall said, clapping softly.
Grad and Selina followed suit, applauding.
Elliot only snorted, unmoved.
But the next moment, the two figures behind Ruby ducked slightly to pass through the door.
Seeing them, Elliot froze—eyes narrowing as he looked them up and down.
After a moment’s hesitation, he slowly rose and clapped his hands.
“Welcome… to the team,” he said, his gaze shifting thoughtfully toward Randall.
Randall smiled faintly.
“Oh, oh, thank you, thank you! Good morning, everyone… You don’t have to be so formal, I’m embarrassed already,” said the sword-and-shield knight in battered bronze armor and a tattered cloak, nodding repeatedly like a Riftclaw Bird pecking grain.
The slender black-armored knight only gave a small nod.
“Please, take a seat,” said Randall, pulling out chairs. “Apologies—we had a bit of a delay this morning discussing things. I’m sorry.”
“Before we start exchanging pleasantries, we should make one thing clear,” Thaleia said abruptly. “We are ascetic wanderers, following our own pilgrimage route and purpose. We won’t remain long in your party. We joined only to earn some travel expenses—and to repay the kindness of this dung-collector captain.”
“Or, if your missions take you toward the Edric Empire, we can travel together and lend aid,” Samael added, rubbing his hands. “But once inside Edric territory, we’ll have to part ways. Still, it’s been a blessing to meet you all—parting already feels bittersweet.”
“Ah… I see. Of course.” Randall nodded, a little disappointed.
It was obvious—knights of such power wouldn’t stay long with a beginner’s team like his.
“Also, we won’t take any missions related to Demon Dungeons,” Thaleia added. “Because… because…”
“Because we’re just traveling monks,” Samael quickly interjected, covering for her. “Our goal is simply road expenses. Delving into dungeons and provoking Demon Kings for mere travel money would be unwise.”
“Of course—you overestimate us. Guild rules forbid adventurers below Level 5 from entering Demon Dungeons anyway,” Randall chuckled. “Rest assured, we only take mid-level surface missions in the Wasteland.”
“During our stay, take on any high-level missions you wish,” Thaleia said calmly. “We can guarantee they’ll be easily completed. That’s our repayment for your kindness. But—we are clergy of a monastery, devoted to ancient faith. We’ve already offered our names and faces to the gods. Please don’t speak of us outside.”
All four members of [Scavengers of Thornfall Outpost] were stunned.
Ruby, the potion-maker, blinked and glanced around.
Grad sat upright, shoulders squared.
Selina smiled and gave Randall a sidelong look full of “as expected of you.”
Elliot silently eyed Randall, then the two knights.
“Ah… thank you,” Randall managed, swallowing hard, a little flustered. “So, our team recently accepted a bandit suppression mission issued by Thornfall’s officials. Might the two of you…”
“Location. Numbers,” Thaleia cut in, cold and precise.
“Near the Beastbone Hills, southeast of Thornfall Outpost. According to the Guild brief—over fifty bandits.” Randall replied succinctly.
“We can handle it ourselves. You can wait for the verification and collect the reward. We only need enough money to join a wagon to the Edric Empire,” Thaleia said evenly, rising to leave with Samael. “Let’s go, Samo—let’s finish it.”
Elliot instinctively drew a sharp breath.
“Uh, n-no, we’ll… we’ll accompany you…” Randall stammered—he knew they were strong, even indifferent to money, but this level of confidence was beyond him.
He glanced around the table—every teammate wore the same stunned expression.
“You’ll only get in the way,” Thaleia stated bluntly.
If Randall’s group came along, she and Samael would have to restrain their powers—no psionics, no commanding wild monsters, no summoning Nether-Copper equipment out of thin air.
Samael’s hollow armor and undead nature might even be exposed.
It would only make things harder.
“But I can’t let the two of you risk yourselves for us,” Randall insisted. “Otherwise, we’d feel unworthy of the reward. We are adventurers, not beggars. Please, allow us to go with you—even if only to help a little.”
“Fine. Then let’s go now,” Thaleia said casually.
“N-no… we need some time to prepare supplies,” Randall faltered, his worldview cracking. “Don’t you two need survival gear?”
Even Level 7 or 8 adventurers had to prepare extensive provisions before heading into the Wasteland—food, water, gear—to avoid disaster.
And these knights… were ready to leave immediately? Without even food or water?
A faint thud—Samael stepped on Thaleia’s boot under the table.
You can eat demonic plants, I don’t need to eat—but normal humans do! They need supplies in the Wasteland! Don’t blow our cover! he signaled.
“Mm…” Thaleia stopped herself.
“Our supplies are already packed—in the barracks,” Samael lied smoothly.
“Oh, I see! My apologies, it’s us holding things up.” Randall nodded quickly. “We’ll need the morning to prepare. We’ll depart at noon for the bandit mission—does that work for you?”
“That’s fine,” Thaleia replied.
“Good. Then…” Randall glanced around. “Everyone agrees to let these two monks temporarily join our team, right?”
All four nodded in unison.
“Alright. I’ll take the knights to handle registration. The rest of you, gather supplies. We leave at noon.”
“Yes.” Everyone answered, standing amid the scrape of chairs.
If Samael could still sweat, he would be drenched.
We haven’t even prepared fake adventurer supplies! We’ll have to fake it all the way—but Randall’s going to be with us the whole time! He cast a look at Thaleia.
She shook her head slightly.
After all, it was her first time pretending to be an adventurer, sneaking into a Guild base, and teaming up with real ones.
Who would have thought—pretending to be an adventurer was this much trouble?