Mastery Is Earned

When the two came downstairs, Sophie greeted them with a beaming smile. “Well, if it isn’t our two heroes! Want something to eat?”

Heroes? Henk’s mouth visibly twitched at the word.

“Prepare the best food you have. We’ll eat when we get back.” Raymond glanced at Henk beside him. “Make enough for five. Money’s no problem.”

“Five portions? With the size of you two, I’m sure you’ll finish them.” Sophie smiled as she accepted the two silver coins Raymond handed her.

“By the way, what does all this mean?” Raymond passed her the list he had tucked inside his clothes.

Holding the list, Sophie read each item aloud to him.

At something of a loss, Henk had only just begun looking around the inn when he noticed a group of women seated at a table in the corner.

The moment they met his gaze, they smiled and came toward him. Among them was the woman who had brought Henk the bowl of stew.

One after another, they thanked him respectfully. “Thank you, Mr. Henk.”

“You were so brave. If not for you yesterday, I’m afraid none of us would have survived.”

Henk had never been good with words, and all their gratitude left him flustered. He could only stand there scratching his head.

The woman who had brought him the stew pushed a plate of pastries toward him, while several others crowded around and asked about his injuries all at once.

Only one small, thin girl hung back, hiding behind the woman who had brought the stew. Half of her pale face showed as she stole occasional glances at Raymond by the counter.

The other patrons in the inn also glanced over from time to time, their eyes filled with curiosity and a measure of awe.

After checking the list with Sophie, Raymond put it away. He turned just in time to see Henk’s awkward expression as the women surrounded him. A warm smile touched Raymond’s face.

Several of the women who lived in town or in nearby villages had already been taken home by relatives who came after hearing the news. Among those who remained, some could not provide clear details about their families, while others came from so far away that there was no way to contact their families anytime soon.

The town had no choice but to house them temporarily at the Blackstone Inn. They also helped around the inn, doing whatever work they could manage, and Sophie had grown quite fond of them.

After arranging for Sophie to provide their meals as well, Raymond was about to rescue Henk from the crowd when someone suddenly grabbed him in a hug.

Looking over, he found Teddy, who had appeared from nowhere. “Buddy! I heard Sheriff Marcus gave you a reward?”

“That has nothing to do with you.” Raymond shook off Teddy’s embrace, his expression calm.

“You can’t say that. If I hadn’t gone back to raise the alarm, would anyone have come to reinforce you? Besides, I should get a share of the loot from before, shouldn’t I?” Teddy demanded as though it were only right.

Raymond shook his head. “As far as I know, the town guard already gave you a reward. And that loot isn’t mine alone, so it isn’t my decision.”

“Come on, buddy. If you don’t get to decide, who does? That northerner is bound to listen to you. Put in a word for me, will you? Just one silver coin. Do me a favor, for old times’ sake.” Teddy refused to give up.

“No.” Raymond shook his head. “A favor is a favor, and spoils are spoils. They’re two separate matters. But the next time I have a commission, I’ll consider bringing you along.”

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Teddy’s face fell. Dejected, he turned to leave.

“But I can buy you food and drink, if you want,” Raymond added.

“Food?” Teddy’s eyes lit up, and his spirits immediately returned.

Raymond nodded with a smile and looked at Sophie. “Add one more portion.”

Sophie had noticed their exchange and gave them a knowing smile.

After settling things with Teddy, Raymond rescued Henk from the women surrounding him, and the two left the inn together.

Passersby outside were startled by Henk’s immense frame and unusual appearance. Henk paid no attention to their stares, but his reddish-brown face turned even redder, almost making Raymond think he was about to lose control again.

“What? Never had women crowd around you like that before?” Raymond teased.

Henk looked troubled and thought for a long while before softly answering, “Mm.”

Raymond burst out laughing and could not resist teasing him again. “So you’re still a virgin? Hahaha...”

Henk turned to look at him. “And you?”

The smile on Raymond’s face instantly froze. If he counted his previous life, of course he was not. But if he counted only this body...

The two exchanged a look. Neither continued the subject, and they walked in silence all the way to the town guard’s headquarters.

They were heading for the town guard’s warehouse. A separate area inside had already been set aside for the seized goods marked as available for collection. They had come partly to verify the quantities and partly to select equipment they could use themselves.

By now, Raymond and Henk were famous among the town guards. The men watching the warehouse clearly recognized them. Even so, they took the collection order issued by Marcus and carefully verified its seal before leading the two inside.

Once inside the warehouse, Raymond took out the other list he carried and began carefully comparing the two.

“What’s that?” Henk glanced at it. He could not read the writing, but it did not look like the script used in the Kingdom of Goldvale. In fact, it was unlike any script he had ever seen.

“It’s the writing from my homeland,” Raymond explained casually.

Looking at the equipment and supplies piled before them, he asked Henk, “What do you want to do with all this? We can use some of it ourselves, but the rest will have to be sold.”

“I think we should sell it ourselves. We can make a lot more money that way,” Henk answered straightforwardly.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Raymond smiled and glanced at the equipment. “Want to pick out something you like?”

Henk had already spotted a pelt he liked. He strode over, seized it, and spread it out in his hands.

It was the hide of a mountain brown bear, its fur such a deep brown that it looked almost black from a distance. It had received only the most basic treatment, and even that had been done crudely. The smell of blood still clung to it.

“I’ve always wanted a bearskin mantle,” Henk told Raymond as he held up the hide.

Raymond nodded. “It still needs to be treated again and then taken to a leatherworker. You can’t go around wearing it like this, can you?”

Henk chuckled but said nothing.

As Raymond carefully checked the goods in the warehouse, he could not help sighing. After the battle at the camp ended, he had secured the surviving bandits and settled the captives, then made a rough inventory of the property using the writing from his previous life. Later, he had Martin prepare another inventory and hand it to Dario.

After comparing the two lists, Raymond still found several items missing.

All of them were small and easy to carry away: several purses containing loose coins, two rings, and a necklace taken from the leader. Far too many people had handled the goods on the journey from the camp back to Blackstone. It could have been the villagers or hunters traveling with them, or the town guards responsible for moving everything.

Raymond could no longer determine when the items had disappeared. Fortunately, the bulk goods—ore, pelts, and weapons—all matched the inventory. The missing property was not especially valuable.

Raymond then turned his attention to the leader’s equipment, which had been set apart from the rest. There was a dark coat of plates, an iron helmet with a nasal guard, and a finely crafted sword.

Raymond held the coat of plates against himself to judge its size, then put it on. It hung somewhat loose on him, and the shoulders sat slightly too low. But the overall size was suitable. Once an armorer adjusted the waist and shoulders, he would be able to use it.

After removing the coat of plates, Raymond drew the sword and tested it in his hands. It was noticeably larger than an ordinary one-handed sword, with a much longer hilt. It could be wielded in one hand while still leaving enough room for a two-handed grip. It appeared to be a hand-and-a-half sword.

The weapon was of excellent quality, but its size, weight, and grip were poorly suited to Raymond’s current light, agile fighting style. With some regret, Raymond put the hand-and-a-half sword back.

Henk, however, moved closer. The weapon might have been too large and heavy for an ordinary person, but it was just right for Henk. Its long hilt fit Henk’s grip perfectly. A weapon most people needed both hands to wield effectively sat steady in just one of his. The thick blade would also hold up better under his tremendous strength.

“This sword suits you better,” Raymond said.

“Really? I think so too.” Henk grinned. “A bastard with a bastard sword.”