The day of deployment was approaching.

With Choro’s help, Sel packed her gear, carrying a bag almost as big as herself on her back and holding a massive combat rifle in front of her. Although she looked slightly unsteady, her striking features transformed that awkwardness into charm.

“With Sel here, this dark forest really lights up!” Choro laughed, his tall frame—nearly two meters—shaking with each chuckle.

Other mercenaries glanced at Sel with friendly smiles, agreeing with his words. A handsome man was a welcome sight for everyone.

Lavi, too, was smiling, wearing a friendly look. Sel knew it was an act, but she didn’t mind; his usually stern expression had been unsettling lately.

“When I see Sel, I think maybe I could fall for a guy,” Philip said, suddenly clinging to Sel’s side. Sel chuckled, patting Philip’s head.

“Keep the formation, Philip.”

Lavi’s voice, echoing from up ahead, reached all the way to the rear.

“What is he, an eagle? How can he see us from that far away? He’s a real monster, I swear.”

But Philip wasn’t the only one hearing orders.

“Hands off, Philip, and stick to formation.”

Eric, covering the rear, warned him in a low voice. Philip grumbled, pulling himself away from Sel and back in line.

The mercenary group marched for hours.

Sel was confident in her walking endurance. She had often traveled for hours to and from the village, so her stamina was good despite her size. But carrying this much gear was something else entirely.

Choro had offered to carry some of her load, but she declined. If she couldn’t handle it, she might be excluded from future missions.

Finally, it was break time. The mercenaries sat in a circle in a large clearing, setting down their gear and taking water breaks or resting.

Sel set her pack down, feeling a slight relief in her aching shoulders.

“Rookie, it might be better if I carry your gear to the next checkpoint,” Eric said gently as he approached.

“No, I’m more comfortable carrying my own load.”

“If your shoulders give out, you’ll become a burden to the whole team,” Eric remarked, his cold gaze landing on her shoulders.

Having removed her jacket due to the heat, Sel was in her short-sleeved uniform. It was practical for the shaded forest.

The sleeves of her loose shirt revealed bruises from the weight of her pack.

The surrounding mercenaries turned their eyes toward her. Sel quickly grabbed her discarded jacket and put it back on.

“I completely forgot this is Sel’s first deployment,” Choro said, sighing as he looked at her overloaded pack. His attempt to be thorough had, in hindsight, become a burden for Sel.

Without a word, Eric began removing unnecessary items from Sel’s gear, pulling out things like heavy tent parts and iron tools.

A shadow fell over Sel and Eric.

“What are you doing?”

Lavi inspected the gear, his expression unreadable.

“The rookie’s gear is too heavy, Lavi.”

“Why do you care? As deputy commander, focus on your responsibilities.”

Lavi’s flat tone was devoid of feeling, but Eric wasn’t fooled. He stared at Lavi for a moment before finally responding.

“Do you want to carry Sel’s pack yourself, Lavi?”

“No.”

“Then why question me for doing my job? If Sel’s shoulders give out, then someone else will have to carry her along with her gear.”

“If that happens, I’ll take responsibility. This is a deployment, and if Sel’s causing others to suffer, we lose two people instead of one.”

The coldness in Lavi’s voice made Sel tense. She didn’t want to cause Eric any trouble.

“I’ll take responsibility myself, commander. I apologize for the concern.”

Sel quickly lowered her head and sifted through her pack, placing anything unnecessary on the ground.

Choro, watching Lavi from the corner of his eye, began discreetly adding some of Sel’s heavy items to his own bag. Though she tried to stop him, he insisted, saying he’d feel uneasy otherwise.

“Do we need this, Choro?”

“That’s the tent. You’ll need it to sleep.”

“Oh, then it’s essential.”

Just as Sel was about to repack the tent, Eric quietly took it and slipped it into his own gear.

Sel looked at Eric in surprise, but he turned away abruptly and returned to the formation.

The disappointed eyes of some mercenaries betrayed their hopes of getting closer to Sel by sharing a tent.

After a sweet break, they prepared to move again.

Lavi, who had been leaning against a tree, stood up suddenly. He drew the long magic sword from his pack and looked intently toward the front.

The rest of the mercenaries fell silent and readied their weapons, forming ranks.

Sel also gripped her rifle, aiming it forward. She adjusted the scope, taking a deep breath. A surprise attack was imminent.

Kraaaaah!!

As expected, a deafening roar sounded as a monstrous black beast the size of a house charged from the direction Lavi was watching.

Lavi’s eyes glinted sharper than the monster’s.

The creature’s bulk was massive, as large as three adult men stacked vertically.

But Lavi showed no signs of fear.

As the beast came within range and tried to claw at him, Lavi moved.

The tip of his sword traced a blue crescent in the air.

The creature’s body was neatly cleaved in two, sliced horizontally. Every movement and reaction was precise and efficient.

“Grrr…aaah…” The torso on the ground let out a grotesque sound before expiring.

Lavi remained focused, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

“It’s a troll. Equip all magic weapons. These things regenerate quickly, so make sure you tear through their hearts with magic or sword energy. Four at three o’clock, six at eight o’clock, five at eleven o’clock. They’re surrounding us. Delta defensive formation. Prepare.”

As Lavi rattled off these orders, the mercenaries tightened their formation, weapons at the ready, faces tense.

Sel held her breath and pointed her rifle toward eight o’clock. Slowly, she scanned the surroundings through her scope until the six trolls Lavi mentioned came into view.

“Grrraaawwwrr!”

With a deafening roar, trolls charged from all directions.

Each mercenary surged forward, weapons raised. Their steps, timing, and coordination in attack and defense were so exact it was as if they had rehearsed this moment.

Sel squeezed the trigger. To test her modified rifle’s power against trolls, she targeted different parts of each of the six trolls.

Bang! Six shots echoed through the forest as her bullets hit the trolls.

Those hit between the eyes or in the chest showed no sign of pain. But the ones struck in the eye, side of the neck, and groin dropped in agony.

“This rifle can’t pierce troll bones,” she noted, calmly reloading with a fresh mana stone before setting her sights again. Following Lavi’s directions, she fired at trolls at three, eight, and eleven o’clock.

Curiously, after that first troll charge, Lavi hadn’t moved his sword again. He merely watched the mercenaries, his gaze intense, almost as if he were observing a drill.

While aiming, Sel took a quick glance at Lavi through her scope and was startled—he was smiling directly at her, as if he’d caught her looking.

The battle didn’t last long. Mercenaries drained blood from the trolls’ bodies into large containers and packed their bones into carts after severing them. Though she knew these were used as magic ingredients, the grisly scene was more brutal than she’d anticipated.

From a distance, Philip and Braden’s conversation floated over.

“Hey, Philip, come here! Guess what’s hilarious?”

“What is it, Braeden?”

“All these trolls… they’ve got holes in their… you-know-whats. No wonder they couldn’t put up much of a fight.”

“Wow. Who did that? Brutal.”

“Who else but someone cold-blooded enough to put holes in… everything.” Braeden glanced over at Gion, who was cleaning his rifle a ways away. His shiny bald head gleamed as brightly as his polished gun barrel.

“But that’s odd. Looking at these holes, it doesn’t seem like Gion’s gun did it. His barrel size is only 7.62mm.”

“You’re right. To make these holes in a troll, it’d need to be at least a 12mm….”

They both slowly turned to look at Sel, holding her customized rifle and glancing at the trolls she had taken down with an annoyed frown.

“The quiet ones are the worst… all those trolls with their… well…” Braeden muttered softly, crossing his legs a little tighter. He silently promised himself never to get on her bad side.

***

When they reached the first campsite, the mercenaries settled down and each set up their tents. The tents were small but treated with a waterproofing agent to block the forest’s damp chill effectively.

Sel’s tent was situated between Eric and Philip’s. As she busily prepared her own tent, footsteps approached her from behind.

“Is this where you’re supposed to be?” Lavi asked, glancing around.

“Yes, I was assigned here,” Sel replied, her hands never stopping.

Lavi looked over at Eric, who was already setting up his own tent nearby. Eric had changed into a silk robe and was even wearing a sleep mask on his head.

“Isn’t it standard for recruits to be placed at the innermost spots, Eric? I followed protocol. Any issue with that, Lavi?”

“Sel is vulnerable to ambushes. Shouldn’t he be next to someone with the most hunting experience?”

Eric tilted his head in confusion and gestured at himself as if to say, “What’s wrong with this?”

Although Eric was not a Sword Master, his skill in wielding a sword, his strength, speed, and mastery of sudden takedowns rivaled even the commander of the royal knights. With a larger build, he would’ve been even stronger.

“Do I look weak to you, Lavi?”

“Yes. Compared to me, you’re woefully weak.”

“Huh. Well, screw that. What’s your problem today?” Eric’s eyelids narrowed, his head tilting slightly. Normally sensitive about his sleep routine, Eric became grumpy whenever they were on a mission.

More than half of Eric’s bulky pack contained sleeping gear. His tent, lined with goose-down sleeping bags and even a silk robe, left little doubt about his temperament.

Just as Eric was about to lose his temper, Lavi smoothly shifted, saying, “So who’s on night watch duty tonight?” before slipping away.

***

With Philip’s help, Sel finished setting up her tent and quickly ducked inside. Inside, she found a second, plush sleeping bag someone had left behind.

“Did someone leave this for me? Lucky me.” With a puzzled look, she shrugged and settled into the sleeping bag.

After the long trek, she felt pleasantly weary.

“Now that I think about it, why did everyone tense up and cross their legs around me?”

Dismissing the unnecessary question, Sel shook her head and shut her eyes.

The forest was quieter than expected, and she was grateful for the warmth, given her tendency to feel the chill.

The crackling fire outside gently echoed in the silent forest. Fallen leaves brushed past, and the sound of the breeze rustling the tent fabric was almost like a lullaby…

“Ah, damn it!”

Just as she was about to drift off, a loud curse shattered the silence.