The merchant convoy arrived neither too early nor too late, exactly as expected. With clear weather and no interference from monsters or bandits along the way, it seemed like they might arrive ahead of schedule, but the merchants intentionally slowed down to reach the designated time.
"Damn it, we spent too long at that estate." "I told you, better to just go and wait a bit than linger." "Having too much to enjoy is a problem too, isn’t it?"
In the end, after dawdling too much, they had to speed up to avoid being late.
Maxim overheard the muttering of a merchant sitting in the front driver’s seat. The convoy, having set out in the pre-dawn hours, arrived before noon at the walls of Myra.
“We’ve arrived at Count Argon’s estate,” Pierre muttered. Maxim, slouching, looked past the merchants and adventurers in front of him at the towering walls. It was his first time seeing the estate from this side. He observed the bustling soldiers moving around, while the merchants' grumbles, laced with fatigue, echoed in the background.
"Are we offloading here and staying for a few days before heading back to the no-man’s land?" "About a week. Some of the merchants packed extra goods, planning to do some business here," replied the driver merchant. Over the past few weeks, Pierre and the merchant seemed to have become more comfortable with each other.
“Some people always find a way to do business, huh?” "More than some. I’d say seven out of ten behind us have packed goods to sell." "And you didn’t bring anything?" The driver scoffed.
"I’ve got my hands full just hauling supplies to the no-man’s land. I don’t have time for petty business. Leave that to those who enjoy it."
The merchant tapped the stacked crates beside him. Despite their precarious position, they didn’t fall.
"When are they letting us in? We timed this perfectly, didn’t we?"
No sooner had he finished his complaint than a soldier's voice rang out.
"Open the gates!"
The sound of iron grinding against iron pierced the air as the massive portcullis slowly began to rise.
"Let’s move!" shouted the lead merchant.
Merchants who had been lounging lazily in their wagons perked up and began preparing for work. The convoy started moving forward like a giant serpent, slowly slithering toward the entrance.
"...Once we're inside," Pierre spoke in a low voice to Maxim, "remember what I said when we get some free time."
Maxim nodded.
"You're planning to hunt them down, aren’t you?"
Pierre nodded back.
"The rats should be starting to make their move soon. This is the last stop before the no-man’s land, and for some merchants, it's their final destination too."
Pierre rubbed his bald head, his eyes gleaming with determination. Maxim, slightly uncomfortable with the intensity of Pierre’s gaze, leaned back.
"I’d feel a lot more secure if you were helping…"
Maxim scowled under his hood, though Pierre couldn’t see it. However, Pierre probably knew from Maxim's silence that he was not inclined to help.
"You already know one of them, so it shouldn’t be that hard to catch the others." "I told you, it’s not that simple."
Maxim sighed audibly, causing Pierre to raise his hands in surrender.
"All right, all right. You’ve got your own business to attend to. I get it, just thought I’d ask."
Pierre smacked his lips in disappointment. He had hoped Maxim might delay his plans to help, but it seemed clear that wouldn’t happen. He’d have to be content with a vague promise to assist after Maxim finished his business.
"Still, it’s in your best interest to keep it in mind. After all, we’re dealing with a common enemy here. It would help me and the guild, but it’d also benefit you."
Maxim rose from the caravan as it finally entered through the gates. The wagons scattered to their designated areas, slowly coming to a halt.
"I’ll keep an eye on things as we go. If it seems like something worth stepping in for, I won’t hesitate." "I’ll take that as a fair answer... for now."
Pierre followed suit, standing up and hopping down from the caravan.
"Well, what are you standing around for? Didn’t you say you had something to do? Get moving."
Maxim chuckled to himself and descended from the wagon at a more leisurely pace. The familiar sight of Myra’s land felt strange to him after so long, almost as though he were seeing it through the haze of a dream. He closed his eyes for a moment.
His family was here.
The thought made his heart race slightly. He didn’t believe that Count Argon would mistreat them, but the fact that his family had had to come here at all, that they had left their own estate behind, gnawed at him.
I must do well.
To regain everything he had lost and to stand again as Maxim Apart, the knight, he had to complete his current mission flawlessly.
The brisk wind blew through Myra’s high walls, contrasting with the bright, cloudless sky. It swept through the city like an invisible force, tugging at tents and belongings.
"Hey! Hold onto that tent! It’s flying away!" "Catch it! Catch it!"
The merchants, unaccustomed to the gusts, yelled frantically as they scrambled to secure their goods, while the citizens of Myra, used to the winds, went about their business unbothered.
Maxim ignored the commotion and gazed up at the sloping streets of Myra. The estate started at the entrance of the city, with the road gradually climbing toward Count Argon’s mansion, where it became a steep incline. Winding roads snaked their way through the slope, with houses and other buildings scattered seemingly at random along the way, like an actor standing on a stage looking out over an audience.
"...Hmm?"
As his eyes traced down from the highest point of the estate, Maxim’s gaze stopped on one particular spot.
"The bridge..."
There was a bridge in a good position, offering a clear view of the plaza and the entire merchant procession. What caught his attention wasn’t the bridge itself, but the two women standing on it, gazing down at the scene below. One had strikingly black hair, glossy like ebony, and a mask covering half her face. Next to her stood a noblewoman whose face bore an unmistakable resemblance to his own.
Ah.
Maxim’s breath hitched.
Mother, Marion.
Maxim stared up at the bridge, momentarily stunned. Though he was watching from a distance, they seemed well. A female knight stood behind them, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, likely the guard Count Argon had assigned to protect them.
They must be waiting for him. No, they probably didn’t even know whether he was alive or dead. That thought weighed heavily on Maxim’s heart, pressing down on him like a burden.
"Wait for me."
Maxim murmured to himself.
A gust of wind blew, and for a brief moment, Maxim caught sight of Marion’s bright blue eyes, looking down at the scene below. The gaze she turned on him was not the same as before—it was filled with suspicion and fear. Maxim suppressed the urge to laugh and turned his head away. The feel of the ring on his left hand, long forgotten under his glove, was suddenly vivid.
"Find me... Hey, are you listening?"
Pierre tapped Maxim on the shoulder. When Maxim turned his head, the big man was frowning.
"No."
Pierre let out a snort.
"The way you answer so confidently makes me like you more." "Bullshit." "Hey, if anyone should be pissed, it’s me, you asshole."
Pierre sighed heavily before pointing to a two-story building behind the caravan.
"Anyway, I’ll be staying at that inn over there. If you need anything, come find me. I won’t be leaving this area. Even if I’m not at the inn, I’ll be somewhere near the caravan."
Pierre gave Maxim a couple of friendly pats on the shoulder.
"So, you’ve got your business to take care of, huh?" "Yeah. Sorry, but I can’t tell you where I’m going or what I’m doing." "I didn’t expect you to. I’m sure you know what you’re doing."
Maxim let out a short breath as Pierre waved his thick hands.
"Well then." "Just make sure you’re back in time for departure."
And with that, Maxim vanished without a trace. Pierre, who had been standing next to him, let out a low whistle.
"...Damn, he’s fast."
==
“Remember Count Bening’s orders.”
“Kidnap a girl? And stay here as contact points for a while? The count must be crazy. What is he thinking?”
“Watch your mouth.”
The five men gathered, speaking quietly. They were the agents planted by Leon Bening, his operatives. Taking advantage of Pierre stepping into the inn, they seized the opportunity to converse.
“This will be the last time we can gather like this. Two of you, head towards the mansion. I’ll distract them here, and one of you should sneak out and head to the adventurer’s guild in Myra. The last one…”
The speaker narrowed his eyes at one of the men in their group, an adventurer with one eye. The man’s hand was trembling, and he was nervously biting his thumbnail as if overwhelmed by anxiety.
“And you, why are you still hanging around here?”
“P-Please, get me out of this.”
“What?”
The speaker's face twisted in anger as he grabbed the one-eyed man by the collar and shook him.
“You’re supposed to be tailing that hooded guy. So what the hell are you doing here?”
“That guy... That guy is the problem!” the one-eyed adventurer shouted, violently shrugging off the man’s grip.
“Fine, explain yourself. Why are you here?”
“I tried following him. No, I couldn’t even try. The only reason I’ve been able to follow him this far is because he let me. From the beginning, I thought I could provoke him a little, lose on purpose, and then grovel my way into sticking with him…”
He rubbed his abdomen as he recalled.
‘Since you’ll be driving the wagon, I’ll spare your limbs.’
The sensation of the blade pressed against his skin was no mere bluff. He vividly remembered the feel of cold steel pressing against his back, just shallow enough to avoid fatal injury, with no visible bleeding.
Had he ever felt such a visceral, calculated threat to his life? The memory of the blade poised over his organs was still sharp in his mind.
“I’m telling you, that hooded adventurer isn’t a joke. He’s dangerous. There’s no way I can handle him alone. The five of us? Even together, we wouldn’t stand a chance. If one of us dies, the rest of us will be next. No one would even come looking for us. One goes down, and we all go down.”
The leader of the group flicked his hand as though brushing off something filthy.
“You’re giving me an awfully long-winded explanation for why you failed your mission. Do you want to be dealt with?”
“Dealt with? Ha! Whether I die here or there…”
He paused.
“Unless… unless we were never meant to succeed in the first place. Maybe the count just sent us as pawns to see what would happen…”
“This fool is talking nonsense now,” the leader spat out, his voice thick with disgust.
“You’re lucky we need every man we’ve got.”
One of the other spies, who had been quietly watching, spoke up cautiously.
“Maybe it would be better to use him for the kidnapping. At least that way, he could increase our chances.”
The leader looked him over, considering his suggestion.
“Fine. If the tailing mission was never that important, it’s better to ensure the other tasks are completed successfully.”
He nodded, conceding the point.
“You all know the plan. We move just before the convoy leaves this place, while things are still chaotic. Remember, not a scratch on her. If we fail to capture the girl unharmed, it won’t just be her life that’s on the line—it’ll be ours.”
==
Count Argon sat in his office, lost in thought.
“With the supplies that arrived today, the estate should be fully restored to its pre-battle state. We were fortunate to get support from the capital at such a low price.”
He knew all too well that security could never be taken lightly.
“And I’ve heard rumors that the situation in the capital is becoming unstable again. We can’t afford to cut military spending just because the unrest in the no-man’s land has settled.”
His mind was filled with calculations, weighing all possible scenarios.
“Civil war… civil war…”
A sudden voice interrupted his thoughts.
“You seem to have a lot on your mind.”
Startled, Count Argon’s shoulders tensed. When? How? His thoughts and actions happened in tandem. His hand moved to ring the bell to summon his servants, but in that instant, the intruder grasped his wrist.
“What the—!”
The count’s shout was cut short.
“I have a message for you,” said the man in a black hood, presenting a silver lily insignia before the count's eyes.