The arrow pissed the Elf off more than it hurt. He swiped his sword in annoyance, and he didn't notice that he had cut more than Numisley’s toes. Numisley’s scream urged Cultrost forwards toward the Elf. The Elf swung his long zweihander recklessly and Graten narrowly parried it, almost tumbling towards the ground. With his free hand, Graten pushed Cultrost away a second before another horizontal slash of that zweihander made a wall of dust as his sword swept down on the ground.

"Hét! Don't be reckless!" Graten scolded Cultrost.

"But Numisley-"

"I know. So let's do this quickly!"

They felt the fearsome Aura from the Elf, a veteran of dozens of battles. The strongest foe that they have encountered so far, and Graten was sorely familiar with this overwhelming feeling. The Lizardfolk and the Dullahan had unleashed a volley of arrows. The Elf simply angled his long blade with one hand so that he could block some of them with the flat end of the blade. Some had pierced his flesh, but he did not budge. The Elf's grip tightened as his body prepared for a great swing.

"Eight Divines damn it, duck!" Graten ducked and pulled Graten to the ground as he sensed that Feat.

A wide arc of pressured air from the swing had cut a dozen trees in half. Two trees fell upon Torozz and Cyneth, and Cultrost didn't see what had happened to them.

"[Summon Mount]!"

Ridi took a piece of the Elf's shoulder with a lance charge from his horse that he summoned from below with his Feat. The Elf whirled as Ridi turned his horse towards him to charge him again, but he fell forwards as the horse was beheaded with a sudden cut from the Elf’s zweihander. Graten locked swords with the Elf, and his shoes dug in the soil with the great strength of the Deathseeker. His past comrades held the blade in place; appearing beside Graten as apparitions that only he can see. Even the strength of his comrades was not enough as Graten was thrown back by the Elf’s swing, breaking out of the clash of blades. Graten tumbled to the ground with such force that he cracked the trunk of the tree. The impact had knocked him unconscious.

Ridi rode towards the Elf yet again with his lance couched, but the Elf turned, and his zweihander horizontally cut the horse in half. Ridi rolled to the ground to mitigate the impact of his fall.

The old Elf glared at Cultrost, his cloudy red eyes making Cultrost shiver. With only his remaining arm that held a sword that is closer to a polearm at length, he had defeated his companions that are far higher-leveled than him, even with his right shoulder torn off and bleeding. He was as strong as Palvt, Donlor, and Gorebur, Jascias’ best men, despite being heavily injured. Upon this revelation, his knees shivered. His arms felt weak, his hand threatening to drop his mace. Yet something new was etching itself into his soul, the pages of his book.

The Satyr stomped his left hoof on the ground, with newfound courage and he charged. The Elf swung downwards. Cultrost instinctively rose his free arm. A phantom bracer appeared on his left arm and it shattered as the zweihander hit him. Yet despite that, his left arm broke from the impact, even if mitigated by that mysterious ability. Using that momentum, Cultrost lowered and spun with his hoof, striking the knee. The Elf fell to his knee, but before he could stand up, Ridi threw his lance, piercing the Elf’s heart. Yet the Deathseeker still stood on his one leg. Cultrost rushed in and broke the remaining knee and he savagely crushed the Elf with multiple blows on different parts of the body. It had taken a while before he had died; Cultrost had heard that high-level [Warriors] can even survive even a blade to their heart and even Spells like [Deathbolt].

Cultrost was panting heavily, staring at the smiling corpse. It was his first actual fight against a person because he had only fought only four times against weak monsters who had attacked their caravan before all of this. They were lucky that the Deathseeker didn’t dodge any of their attacks despite being capable of it, simply because of their willingness to die.

“They’re dead.” Graten had woken up and immediately headed towards the fallen trees where their companions are. They saw the Dullahan and the Lizardman were crushed under the weight of the trees that were cut by the Elf.

Cultrost rushed towards the cave, and he saw Numisley on the floor, half of his paralyzed foot severed and bleeding.

“Healing potion…” Numisley whispered, still in pain.

Cultrost pulled a ceramic vial from his satchel and poured it on the wound.

“Fa’cke…” Numisley cursed as he felt the healing potion as well as the pain in his foot. The healing potion had made his foot painfully numb as his body’s self-healing ability has been accelerated to close the wound, yet it didn’t grow the severed half of his foot.

Numisley reached out, and Cultrost pulled him up, and Numisley wrapped his arms around Cultrost.

“I got you,” Cultrost reassured.

“What happened to your arm?” Numisley saw his left arm dangling stiffly. “Also, you killed that maniac? He…they were hired by Maldent Trading. Well, the Deathseeker killed his companion though.”

“Yeah. That Elf broke my arm before I killed him-more like I dealt the final blow. Graten and someone from Atasaney’s helped,” Cultrost downplayed. “...Can’t move it right. Ouch.” Cultrost finally felt the pain of his broken forearm after the rush from fighting died down.

“No healing potion can heal that. But I swear I’ll find a way.” Numisley promised.

“Is there even a way? We might have to cut…my forearm.” Cultrost stared at his forearm, which was already tender. “I promised that Thunderous March [Commander] that you have information useful to him. And I got two of his [Soldiers] killed trying to defeat that Elf.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle this. I got something from that headquarters.” Numisley reassured.

“What? Then why are you in your underwear?” Cultrost raised his eyebrows.

“Well…”

-

The group of three arrived back in the captured camp at midnight, with the corpses of their temporary companions from that mercenary army slung on the saddles of the empty horses. The [Commander] was within the new tent beside the crumbling headquarters, its interior was smoldering from burnt wood and papers. Culrost had his left forearm resting on an impromptu arm sling, sitting beside Numisley.

“Did you kill them?” The [Commander] asked.

“No. The Deathseeker killed them. He was high-level. He cut the trees, crushing them.”

The truth stone on his table glowed green, confirming that they are stating the truth.

“Of course a Deathseeker is high-level! So, you get them killed, ah?” The [Commander] regarded Cultrost and Numisley. “You better make sure that this is worth it.” He pointed to Numisley.

“Of course, Commander…”

“Andrer Alchemist.” The Human stroked his handlebar mustache.

“I noticed that the headquarters was burnt, why is that?”

“One of my- Some gruel-for-brains [Mercenary] knocked over the lantern and burnt the war plans,” Andrer grumbled.

“What if I told you that I have a map?” Numisley threw the verbal bait in this room.

“What map?” The [Commander] raised his eyebrows.

“Their movements for the battlefield,” Numisley answered. “Is that enough payment?”

Numisley handed the map to Andrer, and the [Commander]'s eyes scanned across it, analyzing the future movements of the enemy and verifying if this is real or not.

"Yes." The [Commander] looked up. "The Thunderous March is in your debt. I'll send a copy to our [General]."

"Thank you. Do you know any [Healer] that can heal a broken bone?" Numisley asked in a way that hid his desperation.

"Since we are in your debt, I'll tell you," The [Commander] said. "The high-level ones are in the megapolises, but their fees are too high, even for you. The [Priests] are likewise occupied by so many people coming to their temples. But, I know of a tribe that is most likely to help you."

"Who?" Numisley uttered.

"Veohantaye Tribe. They live at the Gaunt Peaks on Fishalttop Mountain, next to the town of Fishal. I heard from another [Commander] that he got his deformed arm healed there. Of course, there's a chance that his or her capabilities are exaggerated, but it is cheaper than to wait for a dozen moons while your brother's arm rots off. Ask around in Fishal if you want to know more."

"I see. Where Is Fishal?"

"East of Tucken. You can go to the road that directly leads to the mountain. Fishal is farther."

“Tell me more of this Satyr Tribe. Why are they so close to Human lands, much less in the territory of the Diamond Shore Conglomerate?”

“Their castle in the mountain is unassailable. Even if the land forces of the Conglomerate can defeat any mercenary army, they can’t take the Veohantaye Fortress, only the towns around them.”

“Satyrs have castles?” Numisley was genuinely surprised. “No offense, brother.”

“I’m a Settled Satyr with a Human name, remember?” Cultrost reminded.

“They’re are Satyr cities; not those teepees or wagons in the Unconquered North, where our ancestors didn’t colonize because they simply can't. Because of the Dragonhunter Tribes and their Wisest Ones…anyways, the Veohantaye Tribe can’t be sieged, and so they made a pact with the Corporation that they would trade some of their powerful magic charms, services, and raw alchemical materials that are endemic to the mountain, in exchange for money, wheat, and the products of the sea.” Andrer continued.

“I see…that might be an opportunity..” Numisley pondered upon the information that he was given about the place.

The meeting with the [Commander] was finished, and so both of them rested in their wagons.

Cultrost slept still within the wagon. He avoided moving in the bed like he usually does because of his broken forearm. He was alternating between feeling pain and drowsiness, but a moment before his eyes close, he what was etched in the pages of his soul.

Level 26 [Warrior]!

[Feat- Weapon Proficiency: Mace] developed!

[Feat - Bonecrushing Strike] developed!

Role Developed: [Warrior], [Weapon Proficiency: Mace], → [Mace Warrior]!

Arc Zero Completed.

Level 35 [Mace Warrior]!

[Rare Feat - Phantom Bracer] developed!

[Rare Feat - Ignore Pain] developed!

[Rare Feat - Restore Courage] developed!

Numisley sat on the seat facing Cultrost who was resting. He stared at Palvt’s quarterstaff that still had their etched runes that were filled with blue frozen liquid; liquid gemstone. The runes were etched from both ends of the staff to its base. He can only understand the runes that bear the Spells of [Stone Arrows], [Wind Barrier], and [Fireball], and they were a dozen different runes on the staff. He had leveled from his deal with the [General] of the Thunderous March, gaining Feats from that deal. He had started to write in a journal about his study of his Feats and wrote his newest entry: about the Feats of [Convincing Words] and [Verify Information]. He studied the brown book to attempt to learn what he can do to combine his two Roles.

But it was late, early morning to be exact. For his well-being, he went to sleep and he would worry and deal with things tomorrow.

Arc Zero Completed.

Level 17 [Trader]!

[Feat- Lesser Durability - Goods] developed!

Level 14 [Information Broker]!

[Feat - Evaluation of Information] developed!

The next day, Atasaney had negotiated with Numisley about their employment under him. They sat on crates, eating a stew made from the looted stores of dried meat, wild herbs, chunks of bread that were soaked in the stew, and wild potatoes.

“I’ll pay your company 20 gold per moon. Until we get to Baunt or Marienmaw. My only condition is that you will not harm the people employed in my caravan, nor steal the two books that I have. You will follow my orders. Is that clear?”

“Yeah.” Atasaney agreed without hesitation. Numisley suspected that he has an ulterior motive, which is most likely stealing those books, but he can keep him in check.

“Sign this.” Numisley handed him a contract written with [Bloodbound Contract]. Atasaney stared at it and he immediately noticed that the contract was written with blood, and he didn’t know to who it belonged.

“A Feat-based contract, eh,” Atasaney remarked. “Smart.”

He critically analyzed the contract written in blood before signing it. Numisley stared at both the paper and his expression to glean something from him. For a moment, Atasaney smirked.

“My twenty [Riders] will be at your service.” Atasaney shook Numisley’s hand.

The caravan headed first to Tucken, the city before the town of Fishal. The salt flats that Tucken and Joltstown were fighting over gleamed on the west, while the hills and mountains of the Gaunt Peaks loomed from the east. Aside from that, there was nothing but plains and some trees for miles. The road was now made out of old stones, which was an improvement to the dirt roads inland. Twenty [Riders] now escorted the five wagons of Gildin Trading.

Cultrost peeked out from the wagon, standing.

“Hét, Cultrost, you should rest.” Numisley scolded. He was sitting beside Palden, who was using his Feats to make the trip faster.

“I got [Ignore Pain] yesterday! And I completed my Arc...I think. Whatever that means.” Cultrost swayed his broken tender hand like it was nothing. Palden gagged at the sight of his swollen forearm moving.

“Stop that! You’re going to give the [Healer] a hard time!” Numisley scolded. “That means you can get Rare Feats. According to that book.”

“I got two, how many do you have?” Cultrost asked.

“Nothing. Just regular Feats.” Numisley answered.

“I win.” Cultrost smiled smugly.

“It’s not a contest…”

Hours later while they jokingly argued along the way, they saw the city of Tucken, surrounded by marshland. Once the caravan passed through the fields of maize, they were in the districts outside of Tucken’s walls that were heavily patrolled by [Mercenaries]. They stopped by in the market district of the local Merchant’s Guild and got a permit to temporarily buy and sell products there for a week and a half. Palden was left to manage the newly acquired stall that they bought so that they could generate profit as they sold their remaining inventory and bought new ones in bulk to sell; a cover for Numisley’s actual business.

Numisley and Cultrost, as well as Graten and Palden, the “leaders” of their tiny company, were sitting on the large inn that they were staying at, an inn named “The Sitting Wagon”, which mainly caters to the [Merchants] and [Traders] that come and go in the market district of Tucakee. They ate grilled swamp octopus meat with a side of polenta; the local fare in the city-state.

“We got a manpower problem,” Palden stated.

“What do you mean?” Numisley asked.

“It’s more like an organizational problem. Most of our thirty-five men and women are [Mercenaries]. That’s all well and good…but they aren’t as effective as they should be, because they don’t have a [Trader]-Role or anything that would help in the business. Many of them are [Laborers], but…you get my point. I’m the only one aside from you two that were the original members of Gildin Trading, and I, [Quartermaster], and Graten are managing the folk. We need more leaders and crafters, not just [Mercenaries] and [Captains].”

“Thank you for making me aware of the issue,” Numisley replied.

“Didn’t you have a list of the Severed Swords?” Cultrost reminded.

“Good idea,” Numisley remembered that he did a tally of Graten’s men and women with their Levels and Roles. “Call Umbert, Beqaye, Arimith, Kortson, Malia, and Tarast. Ask Atasaney if he has some members who have crafter-Roles…”

Later, a Dwarf entered Numisley’s room. Numisley sat on the bed in front of the table.

“Umbert, right?” Numisley asked the middle-aged Dwarf. “You were an [Cobbler] if my memory serves right.”

“Yeah. So? What do you want?” The middle-aged Dwarf raised his eyebrow.

“Do you want to be an [Cobbler] again?”

“Hmm…” The Dwarf scratched his stubble. “Beats [Mercenary] work. Much safer. I’m not out of practice though, since I fix everyone’s shoes. Kortson also maintains horseshoes for our Satyr members.”

“Tell me about your [Cobbler] occupation in the past.” Numisley requested.

“I worked in the Dwarven village of Tuntow as a [Apprentice] to a Level 60-something [Shoemaker]. Good sort, women especially love his moccasins, and anything he makes can even break a wild nail on the ground if someone steps on it”

"Dwarven village? Forgive me, but I thought Dwarves were very few in this land. Never seen more than three or four Dwarves back home in Renimburg."

"Nahè. We live in the very west of these lands. As many as Satyrs in Human cities. Mostly where the dwarven Drizgil's Dragonguard is, one of the Five. I stopped being a [Cobbler] when [Mercenaries] destroyed our village, and the rest is history."

"I see… I need you…not just you, but anyone in the Severed Swords who has a Role that can be useful for our business. Non-combat Roles that can create products or help them sell. I’ll assign you to create shoes and clothing. So, are you up to the challenge?”

“Challenge, eh? I’ll take your challenge. Should be piss-easy.”

"I'll spend gold to get you what you need. I'll give you something to help you too if it works."

-

“You called?” A Human man scratched his thinning hair as he entered Numisley’s room.

“Tarast, right?” Numisley looked up from his book. “You’re an actual [Recruiter]?”

“Yeah. With the Role. Erm, I was a [Crier], then I joined the Severed Swords, and my [Crier] and [Sergeant] Roles combined into [Recruiter], so yeah.”

“What Feats of yours you’ll think would be useful for selling stuff, even if you’re not a [Trader]?”

“Ah, that’s private information…but if I could be paid more-”

“I’ll pay you more than you were as a [Mercenary]...I mean that you will be paid twice, both being a [Mercenary] and being my [Shopkeeper], though I advise you not to take the actual Role when the world gives it to you.” Numisley informed, reading an entry from the brown book.

“Why not?” Tarast raised his eyebrows.

“Well, your total Sto- Level will be high, but you’ll get fewer Feats. Something to do with the individual Roles slowing down your leveling.”

“How did you know that? Are you spitting crap or something?” Tarast doubted.

“No, it’s something that I learned with my [Verify Information]. You can trust me or not. Now, my question?” Numisley reminded.

“Ah? Oh yeah…I got [Noticable Presence], [Loud Voice], and [Convincing Words]. That’s good enough, right?”

“Yeah. That’s good enough for acting as a [Shopkeeper]. You’re going to work in the afternoon. Someone without the Feats can take the morning shift.”

“Alright. I’m up for it.”

Numisley had interviewed three more people, and he convinced them to the best of his ability, treating them more as friends than as employees, and he gave them the knowledge they need so that they could potentially get some Feats and level faster. Graten had asked around Atasaney’s group, and they only found three people among them that qualified for Numisley’s requirements. Gildin Trading now has a [Cobbler], [Weaver], [Carpenter], [Farrier], [Tanner], an acting-[Shopkeeper], as well a [Haggler], [Apprentice Smith], and a [Sharpener]. Most of their Roles were from their old professions, with only a few of them using their past skills in their mercenary work. Now, all he needed to do was to challenge them by giving them a quota so that they could hopefully gain a Rare Feat or two. Numisley also saw some potential in some Severed Swords’ members like Weriens, a Dullahan [Butcher] and [Cook], which has Feats that work well in combat, and Henda, a former [Miner], which might be useful if his company would involve themselves in mining if she would become a [Mining Leader]. If he did it right, even Iquewar, one of the [Mercenaries] under Severed Swords can make his [Hauler] Role into something more.

He spent the day along with Cultrost, placing orders in the local Merchant’s Guild for materials such as wood, cloth, nails, and many other tools and materials that can be bought in bulk so that they could start selling other products aside from grain and beer. It had cost Numisley around fifteen gold coins in total and he was thankful that he didn’t need to borrow money in the first place because he has more than gold in store. Paper and parchment, as well as quills, is his other priority so that he could write reports and balance sheets. This was enough to make a profit, at least for a week and a half. Their priority was to escape to Yhril after all, while making money along the way. He hoped that they could afford to board a ship that can cross the sea in less than a month, which is expensive. He would also need to go to an enchantery so that he could decipher the other bound spells in Palvt’s quarterstaff, which he already used in place of a walking stick since he had lost his actual cane.

But first, he needed to hire the largest gang in the city, as he first intended.

Level 20 [Trader]!

[Rare Feat- Eye for Potential] developed!