In an unexpected turn of events, there was actually a tavern in the Wilderness.

Given the lively atmosphere that sometimes filled the place, it wasn't entirely surprising that a tavern existed. Although it was rare for the lights to stay on late into the night, tonight, the tavern owner willingly offered the space and a break for the knights guarding the Wilderness.

The tavern, now occupied by knights and soldiers, was buzzing with activity. It had been a while since Maxim had experienced such an atmosphere, and he found it both nostalgic and somewhat uncomfortable. Delicious dishes that he hadn't seen in a long time were being served, along with drinkable alcohol.

Maxim sighed with anticipation as the smell of roasting meat wafted through the air. As he did, a man with a hooked nose and long, messy hair sat down beside him, letting out a sigh or perhaps a groan.

"Finally, a day off. You've worked hard, Maxim."

"You too, Roberto."

Roberto, whom Maxim hadn't seen in a while, looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes that hinted at the struggles he had been through. Maxim couldn't help but smile at the sense of camaraderie he felt with Roberto’s expression. Roberto downed a large mug of alcohol in one go and slammed it onto the table with a clatter of plates.

"I'm beat."

"Damn it. The work we did in the previous knight order was nothing more than village patrol duty. How the hell have people managed to survive in a place like this for 15 years? They must all be out of their minds. Ugh."

Roberto let out an unrefined belch, causing Maxim to wave him away.

"Ah, don't worry, Maxim. My burps don't smell."

"Screw off, you lunatic. Get away from me."

"How harsh."

Roberto chuckled in a slurred voice, already showing signs of intoxication. Maxim made a disgusted face and pushed Roberto away. Just then, a familiar face appeared between them, a man with a scruffy beard who looked like he hadn’t had time to shave. It was Paola. At this point, even his rough appearance was starting to feel familiar.

"Still getting along well, I see."

Maxim was secretly relieved that Paola had come between him and Roberto, as the foul smell of the burp had dissipated. Paola sat down and, like Roberto, immediately gulped down a large mug of ale.

"Ah, this drink isn't bad."

"How did you manage to fight here?" Roberto asked, looking at Paola with admiration. Paola swung his now-empty mug with a smirk.

"Back then, we didn't even have time to drink like this, you know. Do you have any idea what happens when a person fights for five days and nights without sleep?"

Paola tapped the rim of his empty mug with his finger. Roberto, who had asked a server for another keg of ale, replied to Paola's question.

"I wouldn’t know; I've never gone five days without sleep. Maybe three days, though."

"You learn to sleep standing up, leaning on a spear stuck in the ground. Honestly, as long as I had a moment to stand still, I could sleep. I’ve nodded off standing up."

Paola gave the innkeeper a rough smile as the latter brought over a large keg of ale, then filled the mugs of Maxim, Roberto, and himself.

"To be honest, there were times when I swung my spear in my sleep. I must have killed at least a dozen monsters while asleep."

"You didn’t use mana to stay awake?" Roberto asked.

"What are you talking about? If I had any mana left, I'd use it to reinforce my aura or strengthen my body. Who has any mana to spare to keep themselves awake?"

Normally, Roberto would have challenged Paola's story, calling it a boast, but this time he remained silent, apparently in agreement.

"I hope it doesn’t come to that," Maxim muttered as he sipped his drink. "Fighting for five days without sleep, like you said."

"You mean 15 years ago? Don’t even get me started. Compared to that, this is practically a vacation. I told you about how many waves of monsters we faced."

Paola bit into a piece of bread.

"Not that there's any guarantee it won’t happen again. We’ll need to deal with this situation properly."

As they listened to Paola's stories and drank their ale, steaming dishes began to arrive. A large roast pig was placed on the table before them. Maxim, secretly salivating, commented.

"Where do they get food like this?"

"Supply convoys arrive every two weeks to replenish our provisions. The next supply date is in three days."

A slightly husky voice answered. It was likely from someone who smoked a lot. Across from Paola, Roberto, and Maxim, the marquis of the frontier sat down, placing her mug on the table. Setting the mug down like that seemed to be a trend. As the three men made uncomfortable faces at the sight, the marquis's expression sharpened.

"What? Do you have a problem?"

Paola answered on behalf of the group.

"Not at all. But is it okay for you to leave your subordinates and sit with us?"

The marquis rolled her eyes in mild annoyance.

"It’s fine. I see their faces every day."

The marquis didn't hesitate to pick up a knife and began expertly carving the pig. Maxim watched, amazed by her skilled knife work. Roberto quickly recovered his composure and continued the conversation.

"By the way, when the supply convoy comes, they must bring quite a lot."

"Essential goods like grain are replenished quarterly or irregularly as needed. The regular supplies are mostly things that are hard to store or spoil quickly."

With a few swift cuts, the marquis carved the pork into succulent pieces. She stabbed a large piece with the knife she had used to carve it and placed it on her plate. Steam rose from the meat, and pink juices dripped alongside brown fat. The marquis popped the piece into her mouth.

Chomp, chomp.

"What are you doing? Aren’t you going to eat?"

Encouraged by the marquis’s casual and unabashed demeanor, Paola laughed and grabbed a piece of meat.

"You're pretty calm, just like a seasoned knight."

The marquis shrugged at Paola's backhanded compliment.

"Calm? No, I’m just numb to it."

"Most people would call that the composure that comes from experience."

The marquis continued chewing her food.

"Whatever. Have you had any discomfort working with us?"

It was clear she was directing this question at Maxim. When Maxim pulled a face, the marquis chuckled.

"I was just wondering how people manage to survive in this hellish place for so long," Roberto grumbled.

"It’s too soon to be complaining. You still have three more weeks to go."

"Damn it."

The marquis then turned her gaze to Paola.

"Since you’ve been helping with the investigation, do you have any comments?"

"Maybe some things I haven’t said."

Paola poured himself another glass from the ale keg.

"Since we’re talking about the investigation, I have one question."

"Go ahead."

Paola took a sip from his glass and set the tone. The marquis leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, intrigued by Paola’s question.

"Marquis, do you really think this investigation is worthwhile?"

The marquis was absentmindedly rubbing the rim of her glass with her finger.

"What do you mean?"

"Wouldn't it be better to request reinforcements from the royal family and start strengthening our defenses now?"

Paola’s suggestion made the marquis's face cloud over with concern.

"...It’s not like I haven’t considered that."

"It’s better to be over-prepared than under-prepared, but this time, it’s definitely a matter worth fussing over."

The marquis refilled her glass.

"As I said, we don’t know what’s going to happen. If the capital had been truly concerned about these anomalies, they would have already sent troops for defense rather than sending us to investigate."

The marquis sipped her drink, as if to soothe her bitter thoughts.

"That’s why we’re here—to see what the king cannot, to hear what he cannot, and to report back."

"You’re right... but let’s wait a little longer."

The marquis set her glass down.

"It would be great if we could bring back solid evidence."

"...Understood."

Paola nodded. The marquis shrugged her shoulders awkwardly at the now somber mood around the table, then stood up with her glass.

"This atmosphere is getting too heavy. I think I’ll head elsewhere."

"A bit irresponsible, don’t you think?"

Paola teased, but the marquis slyly looked off to the side as she replied.

"It’s fine. It looks like someone’s coming to liven things up."

Someone to liven things up? Maxim, sensing something ominous, immediately followed the marquis's gaze and turned his head. And where he turned, he saw...

"Deputy Commander-!"

Christine, her face flushed red, was approaching him, holding a sloshing glass. Maxim suddenly felt his buzz fading. How much has she had to drink?

"You’ve got to be kidding me..."

Maxim felt a sudden wave of dizziness. Half-panicked, he glanced at the two men next to him for help, but...

"Uh, sorry."

Roberto was the first to stand up with his glass.

"Did I say something?"

Paola followed suit, inexplicably puffing up with pride.

Maxim glared at the two of them with a look full of resentment as they walked away.

"Hey, help me out here!"

"Sorry."

"Do your best. Be sure to tell us all about it later."

They were no help at all.

"Deputy Commander... I’m right here... why are you talking to someone else?"

Oh, no.

Christine plopped down next to Maxim, nearly knocking him over.

"Hey... Christine... Could you sit a little farther away?"

Maxim, alarmed, quickly glanced around. Thankfully, since he was sitting in the most secluded corner, no one seemed to be paying them any attention. The only exception was Paola and Roberto, who had settled at a distant table and were subtly raising their glasses in his direction.

"Deputy Commandeeer... hehe."

She’s completely wasted.

Christine giggled like a drunken fool. Maxim was sweating bullets.

Thud.

Christine’s head suddenly rested on Maxim’s arm, and her arms wrapped around his right arm. Maxim froze in place. He tried to gently push her away with his free left hand, but...

"I won’t let go."

She wasn’t someone he could easily push away with a light touch.

"You..."

As a last resort, Maxim tried to pinch her cheek, but his hand ended up fumbling awkwardly near her mouth.

"Mmm."

Mmm?

Maxim looked down at his hand, feeling a soft, squishy sensation.

"Hey..."

Christine was biting on his finger, looking up at him with wide eyes. Maxim was utterly frozen.

"You..."

"Hehe."

Maxim’s eyes met Christine’s. This situation was beyond saving. Desperate, Maxim looked for help from Roberto and Paola one last time, but the two were deliberately ignoring him, though they kept glancing over, clearly keeping tabs on what was happening.

"Get up."

Maxim flicked Christine’s forehead.

Thwack!

Christine grabbed her forehead and pulled away from him, groaning as she half-sat, half-lay there, still drowsy.

"Deputy Commander... That hurt..."

"Either get up or go to sleep, pick one."

"Okay... Then I’ll sleep..."

Christine mumbled as she collapsed onto the table. Maxim, seeing her fall asleep with a wobbly smile on her face, grabbed his head in frustration.

"Great, now I have to carry her again..."