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  After the successful conquest of the independent city of IronClaw, the soldiers from three different factions—the Berillan Royal Army, the Band of de Sirens, and the Band of de Sun—began their journey back to Alku Village.

  When they arrived, the village was bustling with life and activity. The friendly locals warmly welcomed the returning soldiers. The troops decided to rest in the village for a while. The next day, they would report their mission at the Golden Guild of Alku.

  Eran made his way back to the Herald Inn.

  Exhausted—that was the only word in his mind right now.

  All he wanted was to drop his head onto a pillow and close his eyes.

  He walked once again through winding streets and narrow alleys.

  The view hadn't changed—still grimy, with many sharp eyes glancing at him suspiciously.

  Upon reaching the inn, he knocked on one of the room doors.

  Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a man with short black hair, looking disheveled, as if just pulled from deep sleep.

  “You’re back already, Eran?” the man asked.

  “I’m exhausted, Halbarad. Can you not talk for a moment?” Eran replied, dropping his belongings, leaving only his shirt and trousers on.

  “Ugh… damn, at least respond to my small talk.”

  “You can see me, can’t you? That means I’m here,” Eran said while stretching in the chair.

  “You really are something else,” Halbarad muttered, shaking his head. Then he added, “Come on, let’s eat. You look starved, my friend.”

  “It’s still morning. The sun just came up.”

  “Exactly why you need to fuel up.”

  “Right now, I just want to sleep.”

  “You need to eat before hunger kills you.”

  “Damn it, what kind of nonsense is that?”

  “Come on, you bastard,” Halbarad insisted.

  With an exasperated sigh, Eran stood up from his seat.

  “Alright, alright…”

  They headed downstairs to the small dining area of the inn. The room had only four tables, each surrounded by four chairs.

  Despite the building being run-down in many places, the inn was surprisingly clean, and the atmosphere was pleasant if one could overlook the crumbling walls and creaky floorboards.

  An elderly woman was busy over a cooking stove, while a young girl sat near the check-in counter chatting with an old man.

  Noticing Halbarad and Eran take a seat at one of the tables, the girl approached them.

  “Hello, Halbarad. You look refreshed. Did you sleep well?” she asked, taking a seat next to them.

  “Ah, Maggie! Forgive me, beautiful—I forgot to greet you earlier. I slept like a baby because I was dreaming of you all night.”

  Maggie blushed at Halbarad’s shameless flirtation.

  “Don’t mess with my daughter! She’s still young, and she deserves better than a flirt like you!” the old woman snapped as she prepared something in two bowls.

  “Oh, come on, Martha. I’m not as bad as you think.”

  “Maggie, listen to me,” Martha said sternly. “Never trust a black-haired Bard. Not in this world, not in any world. Remember that for the rest of your life.”

  She handed the bowls to her daughter and gestured for her to serve the men.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Oh well, forgive me, Maggie. Your mother still won’t bless our relationship,” Halbarad sighed dramatically.

  “Shut your mouth and eat, or I’ll toss you into the stew pot!” Martha shouted furiously.

  “Alright, alright, Mom…” Halbarad surrendered quickly. Maggie chuckled as she returned to her seat behind the counter.

  Eran smiled and shook his head.

  “Eat up, it’s on me. This potato and shrimp soup will warm you right up. Don’t think too hard about the odd flavor—just eat,” Halbarad said with a grin.

  “I heard that, you damn Bard!” Martha yelled from the kitchen, stirring her pot with fury.

  “Ah, sorry! I forgot you were still there, Martha!”

  Martha shook her head again and again. This was the usual morning scene—warm, noisy, like a real family.

  “So,” Halbarad leaned in eagerly. “Tell me all about your heroic deeds.”

  “I’m very tired, Halbarad. I’ll tell you later, after I sleep.”

  “Come on, man. I’ve been dying to hear it!” Halbarad whined.

  With a resigned sigh, Eran finally began recounting the events of the battle.

  Halbarad listened with rapt attention. Martha, Maggie, and the old man also gathered around, all marveling at the tale with wide eyes and quiet gasps.

  “Truly, you are real heroes,” Martha said sincerely. “Your actions during the battle were truly admirable.”

  “Not only that, but you were able to work together with three different groups and function as one team. That’s an incredible achievement,” Halbarad added proudly.

  Eran gave a brief account of his fight with Sir Paul.

  “Hah! You really are a true hero, Eran!” Halbarad exclaimed enthusiastically.

  “Really? Tell us more! I want to hear all about your battle with the archers!” Maggie said with sparkling eyes.

  Eran smiled softly, moved by his friends’ enthusiasm. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, but at the same time, he felt a warm sense of appreciation from them.

  After that, Eran returned to his room and fell asleep. He asked Halbarad to wake him up later in the afternoon because there would be a meeting at the guild.

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  Everyone who had participated in the conquest had gathered; the guild was bustling with noise. People sat in their respective groups, and as usual, Eran chose a seat at the far end, avoiding attention.

  “Alright, it seems you’ve all gathered. As promised, today you mercenaries will receive your payments based on your contributions. Everything has been distributed to your respective leaders,” announced a representative from the Kingdom of Berillan.

  Eran was about to ask about his own payment—since he wasn’t part of any group—when someone suddenly called out to him. He looked around to find the source of the voice.

  “Over here, Eran, this way!”

  It was Aldrich, waving from a table in the front-left corner. Understanding the cue, Eran walked over.

  As he moved through the crowded hall, he could hear whispers and feel many eyes on him.

  “This is your payment,” Aldrich said.

  Eran looked into the small pouch and was surprised by the amount.

  “This is too much,” he protested. “I should only be paid based on my share of the mission.”

  “I believe that amount suits you. I added part of my own pay in there. Besides, no one here would dare protest after seeing what you achieved. So just accept it,” Aldrich explained.

  “Alright, thank you,” Eran said, then quickly turned to leave. He wanted to get out of that place—he knew many people there hated him.

  “Wait, Eran,” Aldrich called out just as Eran was about to walk away.

  “There’s something I need to tell you. Come with me.”

  Eran followed Aldrich outside the guild.

  “What is it, General?” Eran asked.

  “Don’t call me that—I’m not worthy of the title yet.”

  “Then what is it you want to say?”

  “You really hate small talk, don’t you? Alright, here it is—you’ve been invited to a royal banquet,” Aldrich said, full of enthusiasm.

  Eran furrowed his brows, not quite believing what he had just heard.

  “I...”

  “Yes, you’ve been invited because of your achievements, Eran.”

  “Achievements? There’s nothing special about what I did. Besides, I don’t like crowds. Events like that don’t suit a mercenary like me,” Eran replied disinterestedly.

  “Come on, Eran! I’ve never met anyone like you. Any normal person would be thrilled to hear this—some would even cry!”

  “I’m not normal. Just look at me,” Eran said mockingly.

  “This is a token of appreciation and gratitude from the kingdom.”

  “I think this is more than enough,” Eran said, holding up the pouch of coins.

  But Aldrich wouldn’t give up—he was still thinking of a way.

  “I didn’t want to say this, but... a royal invitation is essentially a command. If you refuse, it’s the same as defying the kingdom,” Aldrich said seriously.

  “That’s not a problem for me,” Eran replied bluntly and walked off.

  Once again, Aldrich failed to persuade him—and to be honest, he didn’t want to get in trouble because of this either.

  “Wait, Eran... there’ll be an additional reward in gold coins for the soldiers who made significant contributions to the mission.”

  Eran stopped in his tracks at those words, then turned back toward Aldrich.

  “Alright. I’ll get my things ready,” Eran said with interest.

  Aldrich let out a long sigh of relief. Finally, his persistence had paid off.

  “We’ll leave tonight in a transport carriage. The meeting point is at the back gate of the village,” Aldrich explained.

  Eran returned to the inn and told Halbarad everything. The bard begged to come along but Eran insisted he couldn’t. In the end, Eran tempted him with the promise of gold coins, and finally, Halbarad agreed.

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