Mastery Is Earned

That evening, the Blackstone Inn was busier than it had been in a long time. In addition to Sophie and Anna, even Mira was hurrying up and down the aisles with a plate of food, her small face flushed from exertion.

The mercenaries and soldiers who had returned victorious and could still move freely had all gathered at the inn, drinking their fill.

For people who lived by the blade, only wine and women could ease the strain. Unfortunately, women were not so easy to find in Blackstone. Wine, on the other hand, was plentiful.

The town guard was paying for dinner, so Raymond and Henk had no reason to hold back. They eagerly devoured the food in front of them.

Raymond was eating stew when he noticed a furtive figure creeping toward them. A closer look revealed Teddy, whom he had not seen in quite some time. Teddy gazed enviously at the mercenaries feasting on meat and gulping down wine.

When Teddy noticed Raymond looking at him, he quickly put on an ingratiating smile. He hurried over and unceremoniously dropped into the seat beside him. “Raymond! I can’t believe you actually made it back alive!”

“You make it sound as though you were hoping I wouldn’t,” Raymond said with some annoyance.

“How could that be?” Teddy cried. He snatched the large mug of ale Mira was carrying and gave a casual wave. “You have no idea how worried I was. Those goblins may not be much, but Greater Goblins are no joke. It couldn’t have been easy to make it back alive.”

Raymond glanced at the ale in Teddy’s hand. “If I remember correctly, nobody invited you to drink that.”

“What difference does it make? We all fought the goblins for Blackstone.” Teddy grinned.

Raymond smiled as well. “Where have you been lately? I couldn’t find you anywhere. Don’t tell me you really went off to risk your life fighting goblins.” From what Raymond knew of him, Teddy might be short of money, but he was hardly the sort to stake his life on killing goblins.

Teddy drained more than half the mug and wiped his chin with his sleeve. “I took a delivery job and left town for a while. Do you think Graypine Village would’ve been caught by surprise if I’d been there?” He paused and glanced furtively around. Only after confirming that no one else could hear him did he lower his voice. “I would’ve killed every last Greater Goblin by myself.”

“Right, right.” Raymond nodded repeatedly.

Henk rolled his eyes, but never stopped eating. He held an entire roast chicken and tore into it while hot juices dripped from his chin.

“I heard the casualties at Graypine Village were terrible,” Teddy said, leaning closer. “Do you know how many mercenaries died?”

Raymond thought for a moment. It did not seem to be a secret, so he answered, “Seven mercenaries, assuming the count was correct. They weren’t all wiped out, despite the rumors.”

“What? Only seven?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” Teddy waved his hands frantically. “I just heard all the mercenaries at Graypine Village had been wiped out. I thought there would be far more dead.”

Raymond shook his head. “There were plenty of mercenaries near the village, but many were away that night. Some of the ones in the village escaped as well.”

“Yes, exactly.” Teddy nodded along.

Perhaps the others noticed Teddy helping himself to the food, or perhaps they did not. Either way, no one cared. It was not their money paying for the meal. Besides, Teddy appeared to know Raymond and Henk well. None of the mercenaries was bored enough to make trouble for him over it.

Once Raymond had eaten his fill, he did not linger. After chatting briefly with Sophie and the others, he returned to his room. He took a hot bath, scrubbed away the grime, and finally lay down on his bed.

The physician’s examination had confirmed that his left shoulder and arm were mostly bruised, while the injuries to his chest, ribs, and back needed time to heal. His coat of plates and padded arming coat had absorbed most of the impact. The physician repeatedly warned him not to practice swordsmanship or fight anyone for the time being.

His secondhand arming sword had been destroyed in the battle. Picking up a fallen weapon for protection in the middle of a fight was one thing, but once they returned to town, Raymond handed such weapons to the fallen men’s companions so they could return them to their families. He could hardly keep them for himself.

His shortsword was badly worn, plates in his coat of plates had come loose in several places, and Henk’s hand-and-a-half sword was nicked. This period of enforced rest was the perfect time to send everything to the smithy for repairs and maintenance—and to buy a new arming sword while he was there.

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Raymond wondered whether Marcus would still send him to Brightwater to sell their goods after everything that had happened. Knowing Marcus, however, the man would never let such a rare opportunity for profit slip away.

After the latest battle, Raymond’s Basic Swordsmanship had reached:

[Basic Swordsmanship Lv. 2 (13/100)]

His Basic Tracking had progressed much more slowly and currently stood at only:

[Basic Tracking Lv. 1 (14/100)]

Once his injuries stabilized, he would have to find someone to practice swordsmanship with. He could also learn to use other kinds of weapons, including bows and crossbows. Knowing one more way to fight could only help.

With those thoughts in mind, Raymond soon drifted off to sleep.

...

Early the next morning, Raymond had his usual bowl of oatmeal with minced meat and two boiled eggs.

While he was eating, Henk came downstairs in a linen shirt. He smiled when he saw Raymond at breakfast and ordered the same meal for himself.

Most people did not eat breakfast, but under Raymond’s influence, Henk had grown accustomed to having a meal every morning.

Henk had appeared badly wounded at the quarry, but most of what made his injuries look so severe was merely bloodstains from the fighting. He had suffered little actual harm. After a full night’s rest, he looked vigorous and showed no sign that anything was wrong.

Once the two finished breakfast, they made their way to the church in Blackstone.

The mood was somber. Even the sky was gray, and everyone waited in silence.

The Town Council had asked the Church to conduct a funeral for the fallen mercenaries and soldiers of the town guard. As comrades who had fought beside them, Raymond and Henk had naturally been invited to attend.

Five simple wooden coffins stood side by side outside the church. Several white candles, nearly burned down, flickered nearby.

The families of the dead stood beside the coffins, murmuring quietly. Dried tear tracks marked their faces. They included children, women, and the elderly, all with their heads bowed in grief.

After another long wait, Marcus approached from the other side with six or seven other people.

For once, Marcus was not wearing ordinary clothes. Instead, he wore a dark sheriff’s uniform with a leather belt and sword at his waist. The uniform was finely made from high-quality materials and lent him a certain air of dignity. It also looked brand-new, as though he had worn it only a handful of times. Whether Marcus rarely wore it or had ordered it made in haste for the occasion was impossible to tell.

He followed closely behind a man in his fifties, leaning slightly forward as he walked. Clearly, the man was someone of high standing.

Walking at the head of the group, the man was short and slightly stout, with a healthy glow to his face. His gray-white hair was immaculately combed, his short beard neatly trimmed, and a mild smile rested on his lips. He looked remarkably genial.

“It’s the Mayor!”

“The Mayor came too?”

“It really is the Mayor!”

The Mayor?

Hearing the murmurs around him, Raymond turned his gaze toward the gray-haired man.

Teddy’s voice suddenly came from behind him. “That’s the Mayor of Blackstone, Walter Baines. He isn’t a noble, but his family owns a great deal of property in town. The merchants, mine owners, and landowners all support him, so the Town Council chose him as Mayor. Those people behind him are council members. Good heavens, this is quite a grand funeral, isn’t it?”

Raymond glanced back at Teddy. “When did you get here?”

“Of course I came to see something this important,” Teddy replied as though it were obvious. “Besides, no one said I couldn’t. The Holy Light protects us all equally.”

Raymond ignored Teddy’s loud commentary and silently watched the proceedings.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The long tolling of the bell deepened the sorrow hanging over the gathering.

A young cleric emerged from the church, carrying a ceremonial banner embroidered with a golden holy symbol. An old man in a dark gray robe followed behind it.

Raymond knew the old man. He was Father Elias, the priest of Blackstone.

The priest was around sixty and looked every year of it. He was tall and thin, with a slight stoop, hollow cheeks, and a long, narrow nose. A silver holy symbol hung at his chest.

He slowly approached the coffins and bowed his head to the families of the five dead. Then he turned to face the assembled crowd.

“When they learned that Graypine Village had been attacked by goblins, they took up their weapons and set out for the creatures’ lair, undaunted by the dangers ahead. They did not retreat. They fought to defend their homes and to protect every person in Blackstone. They were heroes in every sense of the word. But they were also fathers to some, husbands to some, and children to others.”

The priest fell silent. He slowly walked to the first coffin and placed his right hand upon it, then spoke the name of the deceased. He continued down the row until he had named all five. Each name drew another muffled sob from the crowd.

Afterward, the priest returned to his place and traced the Church’s holy symbol over his chest. “They gave their lives for Blackstone and fought until their final breath. They were true heroes. May the Holy Light illuminate their final road and drive away the shadow of death. May they know no more hunger, no more wounds, and no more fear. Through the endless night, may they find eternal peace beneath the Holy Light. May the Holy Light watch over their souls...”

“May the Holy Light watch over their souls...”

“May the Holy Light watch over their souls...”

The townspeople bowed their heads and prayed softly.

Raymond lowered his head as well and observed a moment of silence for his fallen comrades. Henk stood beside him, silently watching the five coffins.

Once the prayers were complete, Marcus, Henk, and the soldiers and mercenaries who still had strength to spare lifted the coffins together. Wounded though they were, Raymond and Dario walked alongside them, following the ceremonial banner and the priest toward the cemetery behind the church.

Five graves had already been dug. The pallbearers lowered the coffins into them one by one.

The priest murmured a prayer as he took handfuls of earth and scattered them over each coffin.

Mayor Baines followed. He bent down, gathered a handful of earth, and cast it onto the first coffin, then did the same for the second, the third, and the rest.

The other members of the Town Council went next, followed by Marcus and Dario, then the other members of the town guard, Raymond and his companions, and finally the other acquaintances of the dead.

The relatives came last. With trembling hands, they cast the final handfuls of earth onto the coffins. Only then did the gravediggers fill in the graves with their shovels.

Walter approached the families and took their hands one by one. “They were all true heroes,” he told them earnestly. “And so are you. The Town Council has approved funds to provide each of you with death benefits. It is no less than you deserve. If you encounter any hardship in the future, you may come to me at any time.”

Overcome with emotion, the bereaved families could only nod again and again through their tears.