The village finished departure preparations quickly. Because talk had been going around for days already. Rowan, who had the most goods, figured it out pretty late, but that was also because people wanted to buy his stuff cheap and process it themselves.
It was unity you could see quite a bit even in modern times. Whatever's good is good.
"Why'd you prepare so much cloth?"
"It just piled up as I kept making it. It's been raining a lot lately, so I was just stuck at home."
Women chattered about this and that while neatly placing what their families had brought. Since manual labor was mainstream no matter what work you did, the lines in their forearm muscles were very clear.
"Take this!"
Someone brought a fairly large jar while grunting. Inside was all oil, so the opening was tightly sealed.
"There's so much animal oil because of Rowan. There are two more this big at the village hall."
"He hunts every single day. It's incredible."
Oil was an important village resource. Even Rowan couldn't own it alone. If the village told him to give it up, he had to. Of course, just because it was sold didn't mean it all went into Rowan's hands either. Only half the oil profits would go to Rowan.
Because it was communal village property. It was shitty as hell, but private property was the exclusive domain of nobles, so there was nowhere to complain. If he spoke of modern ideology, he'd be treated as crazy and forced to leave the village within three months.
Communal ownership was at the whim of village members. He should be grateful for receiving half the profits. In return, Rowan could mobilize people through the youth association if he had difficult work. He could use the oil thing to get it done for free a few times.
Of course, Rowan had never used it once. When hunting, he headed to the deep forest where villagers could get seriously injured. In the first place, he was hunting because of the vague condition of having to kill something to dream the black dream again, so there was nothing to ask anyone for.
Starting with jerky, grain powder, and freshwater fish dried thoroughly in the sun were strung together and placed on carts.
Five men with sturdy bodies who worked at village jobs, Rowan, and the five members of the Skull Mercenary Group gathered at the village entrance.
'Hm?'
While all personnel were checking the goods once more, Rowan had a question.
"There's no alcohol? Was no one trying to sell any?"
"Huh? Of course not. You know what kind of place the big village we're going to is. Alcohol absolutely won't sell."
"The big village's name is..."
Because Rowan only picked up limited information, he didn't care to know geography outside of Torch Fortress. He'd hear it and forget it. He didn't consider it important.
"It's Barrel of Big Village Dudun. The place that makes the most barrels. They say 30 regular soldiers live there. Famous as Thirty Lions, you know."
It was the place with the next largest population after Torch Fortress. A whopping 500 households, 3,600 people living there. Additionally, if you included the floating population, it bustled with 4,500 to as many as 6,000 people.
"It's a place famous for alcohol."
Even as he said that, Rowan inwardly scoffed. Because compared to the village population and floating population, the number of soldiers was small. Not even 1%. Tax collectors would carefully calculate the population every year, but people here wouldn't know in detail, so there was no certainty about the resident population either.
It was an unreliable population count, but precisely because it was called Thirty Lions, he could definitely trust that there were 30 soldiers.
'Instead of having many soldiers, they seem to secure public order through reputation.'
He couldn't know in detail. It was an interesting matter though.
Food, raw materials, and Malrux's small but high-consumption-rate tools like nails were loaded. There were three carts total. Two belonged to the village, and one belonged to the mercenaries. Because the bear hide was so large, even folded it needed one cart.
They also loaded enough for each individual to eat well for 10 days. Some of that went into several people's backpacks.
Rowan was relatively light since he was the most reliable combatant if push came to shove. No one pressed Rowan to carry a heavy backpack.
'It's certain I've made a bit of a name for myself in fighting.'
It wasn't just the village showing him off. The members were treating Rowan well. Consensus Yuval saw that and glanced at Rowan.
"Now fly away. You've eaten plenty already."
Crow Kaiya, not satisfied even after eating dried fruit and grain powder instead of grain, pointed with his wing at the jerky pouch.
"Caw!"
When he cawed loudly, Rowan grabbed his ear and waved his hand. Kaiya, who flew up in one go, landed on the opposite shoulder. Rowan handed over jerky. Fighting would only be his loss.
Kaiya was the most reliable scout.
Smaller than a person so good for hiding and operating, and hard to arouse suspicion. Furthermore, because he could fly, he wasn't constrained by terrain and was good for moving around. Tree branches were also safe places.
Outside the village was where Kaiya showed his true value. Crows were active before fighting.
He finally disappeared with a piece of jerky in his beak.
'Better do your job properly.'
He'd thought about taming other birds too, but two black crows got along so well they might screech from both sides. He didn't see parrots, and other birds weren't very smart.
"Rnghhhh."
Wolf Dono yawned leisurely and followed Rowan out. Walking 20km a day while hunting was what gray wolves did, and it was stamina that was never inferior to humans. Of course it fell short of trained veteran soldiers, but for commerce in small villages like this, it could be called excellent stamina.
"You were flying a crow. Do crows scout too?"
At Yuval's words, Rowan made an ambiguous expression and smiled.
"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. He's not reliable."
Rowan also sighed as he spoke.
"Especially, those crows are so smart that before I get angry, they sometimes give me decent gains. That bastard, geez. His calculations are so fast I'm worried these days."
"Ahaha."
Of course it was a lie. He'd already realized the mercenaries weren't trustworthy. Because they'd brazenly lied during their first meeting with him. They told the truth afterward, but that instead made him see them as people who'd bow their heads anytime in a weak situation.
He didn't even want to praise them for excellent social skills.
Yuval and Rowan shot the breeze some more. Conversations were happening here and there too. It wasn't a speed where they'd ride on the cargo cart. You couldn't see sturdy warhorses here, and horses important for farming weren't used for carts.
Most were sick or about to die, or they used donkeys.
In Black Mountain Village's case, they used one old horse and a horse that limped from an old leg injury. Of course, both horses fell short of being called warhorses in terms of build.
There was no way low-quality horses could pick up speed.
Because the day continued with leisurely walking like mountain hiking, Yuval and Rowan could converse easily.
"It's interesting you do mercenary work without even one shield. Can you fight with just a longsword and dagger?"
Rowan asked a question he was curious about regarding Yuval's equipment. If not now, he didn't think he'd get an answer, and it was what he was most curious about.
Yuval only had a dagger and longsword tucked at his waist. The biggest characteristic was having no shield.
'It's a difficult choice.'
The first thing Rowan had grabbed was a shortsword and shield. After shields appeared, attack range was actually meaningless. Because shields brutishly wedge into the space the opposing warrior possessed and dominated.
That's why heavy weapons also developed as a way to strike down and smash shields. Steel shields appeared like that, and as damage between both sides decreased significantly, war time also gradually lengthened.
Ordinary shields, usually wood with iron plating or leather covering, were hard to see through without expensive heavy weapons. When Rowan learned that later, he vaguely realized that the mercenaries he'd seen during goblin subjugation had a powerful foundation.
Normally they didn't handle weapons that roughly. The Skull Mercenary Group was like that. They treasured them so much it became an opportunity for Rowan to look back once more on his own weapon maintenance.
"You thought it was a difficult choice, didn't you?"
Rowan nodded as if it were obvious. Just from that, Yuval knew Rowan's fighting skills were considerable.
Mercenaries who ate by the sword without any teacher didn't know the advantages of shields. Those who learned superficially valued things with long reach the most, and considered heavy weight next.
"It'd be tiring to list the advantages shields have one by one. If there's a disadvantage, it's just that they're wide so inconvenient to carry?"
They didn't weigh that much either. Being inconveniently wide was the only disadvantage. But at Rowan's words, Yuval started talking about disadvantages.
"You can't be nimble. Wherever you run, you bump into obstacles, and your own vision is obstructed. Shields are wide but they block your view. It's good for enduring, but you can't shoot forth like a hawk."
"Hmm."
Rowan nodded ambiguously. But he couldn't agree because of the danger of shooting forth like a hawk without a shield. Wasn't that in the first place a disadvantage from not having a shield? It was volunteering for high risk of injury.
It looked as dangerous as jumping from 1,000 meters up saying 7 out of 10 parachutes won't open. But he could tell that was Yuval's characteristic fighting style.
"You seem to like diving in."
"No matter how much I look, there's no greater gain than a brawl."
At Yuval's firm words, Rowan didn't nitpick his combat style and what he believed in. Like a 30-year civil servant making big news with everything going smoothly, safety was best. He'd given up the shield but was thinking of wearing heavy armor.
'Should I have brought the greatsword?'
When Rowan thought of the greatsword, he fiddled with his equipment. The dagger prepared for emergencies was a very effective close-range weapon when you broke the opponent's guard. And the shortsword was also what he was most familiar with. Because he was going far, he couldn't bring the heavy greatsword. Additionally, he hadn't prepared heavy armor yet either.
"Shortswords are good too."
As Rowan fiddled with his armament, Yuval said.
"Yes, that's right. Actually, I thought bounty hunters would drag around various weapons, but most of you travel very lightly."
"When it's heavy, it's too inconvenient for long-distance travel."
Rowan asked in more detail about long-distance travel.
"I want to run a mercenary group later too. Could I hear more details?"
"A mercenary group? It'll be very hard..."
Even as Yuval expressed concern like that, he readily explained. The judgment that it wouldn't be bad to have a good relationship with Rowan was already established. Moreover, he'd given the bear hide for 22 silver coins. It couldn't look like consideration, but either way, it was profit for the mercenary group.
Giving that value in advance was because Rowan was sufficiently well-mannered.
'Forming a mercenary group means he's already thinking about advancement and making plans.'
To the point of entering the deep forest with one wolf, his ambition was higher than his own life. If they met somewhere later, there was a high possibility he'd be in middle management.
'He'll grow to be someone who'll achieve something anywhere.'
In Yuval's life, where he'd met the person he'd seemed least likely to meet at the most important time, having moderately good relationships was best. If you made enemies, even things that should work out wouldn't.
"The most important thing in long-distance travel is weight. How light the weight is determines the mercenary group's swiftness. Whether to take 5 days' distance over 7 days. Whether you can or can't choose mountain paths if needed."
"So if necessary, you can choose any means. I didn't even think of that, but certainly."
At Yuval's words, Rowan not only understood immediately but accurately grasped the context of what a mercenary group's swiftness meant.
At that, Yuval asked Rowan in detail. He could hardly believe it.
"You understand exactly, right?"
"If you're mercenaries without even one cargo cart, you can go anywhere, right?"
"Correct."
Rowan wanted to ask about mercenary operations too, but he didn't. It felt like incurring a debt somehow. Because Yuval was exuding the veteran-like savvy and ease of a seasoned mercenary, Rowan carefully held back.
Instead, Yuval talked about basic things he'd felt while doing mercenary activities. Just that was a big help, and it wasn't bad for Yuval either. He knew well that just this information alone could make a mountain village's ambitious person feel he'd been granted a favor.
Through this commerce, Rowan could hear about basic difficulties regarding mercenary groups.