In the end, Kenneth had made the probably wise decision not to tell the rest of the party about the young lady’s abilities.

For one, knowing that they were hired for show would probably demotivate the party, and in the end, this was a defense job—it was their task to make sure the butler and the young lady needed to do as little work as possible.

And then there was the matter of Charlotte likely killing the entire party if they found out, or showing them a fate worse than death… Though that part didn’t cross Kenneth’s mind.

But even more than either of those—

The young lady had clearly noticed his presence partway through her game. And then, with the most innocent, slightly mischievous smile she could muster and a single finger in front of her mouth, she had winked at him.

After a request made in such a cute manner, Kenneth could not bring himself to refuse, so he had nodded in agreement at the time. And he was, in the end, the type to keep his promises.

Thus, that lead to the current situation.

The young lady, in her horse-drawn carriage, and her butler, steering it. And then, the five young men, around it, on horses of their own.

One needed a certain level of skill as an adventurer to be able to use a horse and not be an impediment to one’s own party—for one, they required both food and water, so they were expensive to own. They were also not cheap to buy, as special training was needed to prevent them getting scared and running away when battle broke out. They needed to be protected. The rider needed to be able to get off quickly, not to mention the training required to ride one in the first place. Etcetera, etcetera.

In short, horses were a huge hassle unless an adventurer was particularly skilled.

Plains spread around in every direction—indeed, these were the Great Gilmer Plains, an area of mostly undeveloped land which spanned a large part of the Holy Astal Kingdom’s territory. The only reason no other country had taken them was that at least on the border, the kingdom had made sure to set up defenses and such. But here, there were not so much as farms, outside of those that belonged to a village—at most, there were the roads that connected the various cities and villages together.

That, in and of itself, made the plains a rather idyllic place to be. The serene sound of a cobbling stream, a few metres over, the clopping of the horses’ hooves and the squeaking of the carriage were the only sounds that filled the Angel’s Wings’ ears.

Indeed, it was a peaceful journey.

In the first place, public order in the kingdom was good. Bandits and the likes were frequently made the targets of training exercises for rookie Heroes, who were still being summoned in droves—actually, it seemed Lady Luciel had been summoning more than ever lately—and monsters and such, too, were swiftly dealt with.

In the end, most escort missions turned out like this. Other than another traveller or two, encounters were rare.

Henry, who had been riding a good bit ahead as the scout, returned to the formation.

“Evan, there’s a rest stop up ahead. Should we stop here for today?”

“Sounds good. It’s starting to get dark, anyway. Is that okay with you, as well?”

Evan turned to the representative of the client—indeed, he turned to the butler.

“That will be no problem,” Raoul replied, nodding a gentle nod. “It would be a poor idea to attempt to travel at night.”

And thus they stopped at the first rest stop of the journey. A cabin, built for travelers and the like.

In the end, in Charlotte’s mind, the bed in this lodge was of course far inferior to her own, back in the castle—though it was notably better than that she had used in the elven nation.

To add, there was no particular need, even, to sleep or to join the Angel’s Wings in their dinner—she was a vampire. She didn’t need to sleep, and needed no food.

And yet, both Raoul and Charlotte joined the party at the table and ate the same food. It was a novel experience, if nothing else.

Plus, blowing her cover by refusing to eat would be outright idiotic.

She retained her reticent act, only letting slip the occasional word or two, but her natural smiles and lovely, fairy-like appearance charmed the party in a heartbeat nevertheless. The butler close by her side, for his part, was also rather charming, with his disarming smile and gentle features.

Indeed, it would be harder to find a more peaceful dinner at any adventuring party in the whole kingdom.

Of course, none of the Angel’s Wings were foolish enough to try and court a girl they knew to be a noble—in the first place, her cuteness stimulated not the feeling a man felt for a woman, but the feelings a man felt for a young girl.

Unless you were a deviant like that guy from that black-bird-whatever group, anyway.

But it would not hurt to strike up a friendly conversation. Thus what reigned the table was not the professional silence one would commonly find on escort jobs, but the warm air an adventurer party would have if they were without escorts. To put it in other words, Charlotte and Raoul were fitting in rather well.

And then there was a knock at the door.

As the representative, Evan went over and opened the door… and the one that practically fell inside, leaning upon him, was a young girl, perhaps only a few years older than the young lady.

She was dressed in an outfit that suggested she was a scholar of some sort. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes glassy and her robes were covered in blood.

A few moments of inspection made clear the blood was her own, gushing forth from no small number of wounds on her body.

Evan turned a questioning glance inside, directed mostly towards the young lady and her butler—the employers. The young lady nodded, so Evan took the girl inside and laid her on a bed.

“Kenneth, look after her wounds,” he said, his expression tensing up as he unsheathed his sword. “The rest of you, come with me—we’re checking out the situation outside. Young lady, Sir Raoul, please stay inside.”

As expected of a veteran adventurers’ party, Evan was able to give quick instructions, and everyone followed them perfectly.

Charlotte, with unhurried, calm steps, walked over to the young girl, standing at Kenneth’s side.

“It’s going to be alright,” Kenneth said, holding one of the girl’s hands in both his own. “It’ll be alright.”

He was lying, and he knew it. What was going to be alright? What could he do? Sure, the Emissary was technically an advanced class of the White Mage, but it was focused far more on support than healing. He could heal light wounds, but this was…!

The girl seemed to feel, or perhaps even see, Kenneth’s discomfort, because she brought her free hand up to his face. “Don’t… Worry about, me,” she managed to sputter out, “I’m just… glad, that… you’ll all be alright…”

He was powerless.

Before this girl, who had been hurt so badly, who was now comforting him through her pangs of pain, he was completely powerless to save her. All the magic he could use would serve only to dull her pain.

He was about to burst into tears, himself.

And then he heard the devil’s honeyed whisper.

“Dost thou wish t’ save this girl?”

Yes, the devil only he knew of. The devil with the white skin and the red eyes.

The devil with the sharp fangs, who had not feasted in a while.

The devil that was now baring her true identity to him, a gleeful, maddened smirk on her face.

Evan scanned the area, his expression even tenser than before.

“There’s a lot of ‘em… Any exact numbers, Henry?”

“Ten… Twenty… Twenty-five… At least thirty of the bastards, Evan!”

Even in the Holy Astal Kingdom, the patrols and the Heroes could not possibly catch all the monsters. Occasionally, a few would slip through.

And with certain species, those ‘few’ could be catastrophic.

Goblins, for example, reproduced like rabbits, so even a few that escaped could establish an entire new colony. But this was worse.

This was a pack of Kobolds.

Individually, a Kobold was not much more than sword fodder for the Angel’s Wings—they were only third-grade monsters, so they weren’t even worth thinking about.

But the dangerous part of Kobolds was their tendency to live and fight in packs. The more of them there were in a group, the smarter they got, and the viler their tricks.

A group of thirty was easily equivalent to a sixth-grade monster—not as a whole, of course, they could never topple a city or anything, but just in terms of raw combat potential.

Of course, numbers and dirty tricks alone could not bring third-grade monsters to the equivalent of a sixth-grade monster. No, the truly frightening part was—

“There’s subspecies, too,” Henry said, clutching his bow. “Ten of ‘em are High Kobolds, there’s at least three Shamans, and I think that’s a Chief in the back…!”

A Kobold Chief—a fifth-grade monster. Physically, it was similar to a High Kobold, but——

“We’ve got ‘em surrounded!” the thing yelled out, its voice caught between a growl and a bark. “Keep it steady! Don’t rush in!”

Far from the bumbling idiocy of lower-grade monsters, these things were tacticians through and through.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Don’t panic,” James said, tightening his grip on his staff. “We’ve managed this kind of group before. Though it might be a little hard without Kenneth…”

A few moments of silence as both sides sized each other up, which was broken by—

“Get ‘em! Shamans, loose!”

The shout of the Kobold Chief, promptly followed by the Shamans’ barking.

“[Vine Prison]!”

“[Bottomless Swamp]!”

“[Poison Volley]!”

Vines entangled themselves around the humans’ feet, shackling them to the ground. The ground which had suddenly become akin to quicksand. And to make matters worse, there was a load of poisonous arrows they could barely even see against the dark night sky.

Not to mention the horde of Kobolds that had decided this was an opportune time to launch their strikes. Evan could deflect them with his sword, and James and Scott could probably manage somehow with their staffs, but…!

Henry somehow managed to avoid taking a lethal blow, and quickly set to incanting a spell of his own. Evan, now free of Kobolds, focused his efforts on protecting him.

A green magic circle spread around from Henry’s feet, and—

“[Wind-Attribute Magic: Area Dispel]!”

The ground returned to the texture it was supposed to have and the vines withered away.

“Focus on the Shamans,” James said inbetween his incantation, “they’re the biggest threat.”

Henry nocked an arrow, intent on shooting down at least one Shaman before it could get off another spell, but a different Kobold used its body to block the shot, taking a fatal wound in the Shaman’s stead.

“Shit…! They know that just as well as we do!”

Scott finished the incantation of his spell, the red magic circle in front of him crackling with mana.

“[Fire-Attribute Magic: Fireball]!”

A tried and true spell, yet—

“[Water-Attribute Magic: Blue Magic Guard]!”

One of the Shamans knew a Magic Guard. The explosion from the Fireball still managed to blow away a few of the Kobolds around the thing, but the Shaman itself was unharmed.

Just then, James finished his own incantation.

“[Fire-Attribute Magic: Firestorm]!”

In exchange for a longer incantation, it was a more powerful spell. With this, at least one of the Shamans was dead, but…

“J-James, are you okay?!”

Scott rushed over and supported his brother with his shoulder—

Indeed, Firestorm was a powerful spell for its relatively short incantation—it had incinerated not just the Shaman, but also every other Kobold within a few metres—but in exchange, it required an inordinate amount of mana. At the very least, more than James had.

“Heh, d-don’t you worry about me… Kenneth can fix something like this right up once he’s done in there. You just focus on the Kobolds…”

“As if! I can’t just—!”

“No quarrels!” Evan said, right as he deflected another Kobold’s claw. “James, hang back and give us directions. Stick with Henry, if possible. Scott, keep casting!”

“Got it!”

“Yes!”

A well-coordinated party. Well, they wouldn’t have been able to defeat sixth-grade monsters, otherwise.

“Shit! How much longer…!”

A good few minutes had passed, now. Although James’s first spell had indeed offed one of the Shamans, as expected, Evan would not let him use another spell while he was out of mana.

After all, he’d die.

As a result, James had fallen into the role of directing the battle while recovering his mana. Sure, he had chugged a mana recovery potion, but potions that granted mana immediately were rare and valuable, so all he had been able to use was a potion which accelerated his natural recovery.

Down a mage and their support, the party wasn’t doing too well. Sure, they had managed to eliminate next to all of the regular Kobolds, but most of the High Kobolds remained, and they hadn’t been able to off either of the other two Shamans, either. Evan’s magically empowered strikes were strong, sure, but useless if they couldn’t hit.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone.”

Kenneth emerged from the lodge.

But what had taken him so long? That girl was… Evan hated to think it, but the best they could do was probably to give her the dignity of a good burial. And easing her pain as she passed away should not have taken long.

For that matter, why did he look so happy? He was not one to take the deaths of others lightly…

Had he found some method of…?

“James, the situation.”

“Ah- Right! Kobolds. Ten Highs, two Shamans, one Chief. We’ve already taken care of the normal ones. Give us some buffs, stat!”

“Understood!”

His chants seemed… faster than normal, somehow. And thus, after only a few seconds—

“[Water-Attribute Magic: Embrace of the Gentle Waves]!”

An area healing spell. What’s more, it felt more powerful than usual.

With renewed vigour, Evan went at the Kobolds, though he found he still lacked the strength to fight off two Highs at once—something the Kobolds were definitely prone to take advantage of.

Moments later—

“[Wind-Attribute Magic: Blades of Βορέας]!”

Blades of Boreas? That was a spell that would normally take a full five seconds to chant! Not to mention Kenneth started chanting again immediately.

Evan’s sword was coated in magical winds, and he found himself moving much faster than before. Whereas his sword earlier clashed with the claws of the Highs he was facing, it now cut clean through and lopped those claws right off.

As though to silence the Kobold’s disgusting screams, Evan cut its head off with a single swing.

“I’m not done yet!” Kenneth said, once more spreading his arms wide. “[Earth-Attribute Magic: Stone Skin]!”

Once more, absurdly fast casting.

Stone Skin was no Magic Guard, but it was still a formidable defensive spell, not to mention it could affect multiple people at once and didn’t disappear if the protected party attempted a melee attack. This would allow Evan to be a little more reckless.

And such, with a few magically oriented support spells, as well, to enhance Scott’s spells, as well as a few spells to enhance Henry’s arrows, the group managed to eliminate the pack of Kobolds with much fewer injuries than they would normally sustain against a group this size.

Only the Chief was left, and it looked ready to break into a sprint at any time.

“Don’t let it escape!” Evan said, “if we can get it here, that’s another pack eliminated!”

“Right!”

It didn’t last long. Even if it was a fifth-grade monster, it had lost its pack, and it was up against a party that could handle sixth-grade monsters.

“Kenneth, you were amazing today!”

Pushing open the door to the cabin once more, Evan complimented his friend and party member. Abruptly, he remembered about the girl who had caused the party to leave in the first place, and within moments, his cheerful look faded, replaced by a glum, dejected expression.

“The girl is…” he started, but the young lady the party was supposed to be guarding interrupted.

“She will be fine, I s’ppose.”

The young lady spoke with an accent reminiscent of millenia past, perhaps in an attempt to seem more mature—the party had already gotten used to that a while ago. More importantly…

“What… Did you just say?”

Who did that voice belong to? Did it even matter?

“Thanks t' Sir Kenneth’s eff’rts, she will be fine with a mom’nt o’ rest. Your eff’rts were not in vain, ev’ryone.”

An angelic smile played across her lips as she caressed the hair of the sleeping girl.

A thump rang out as someone, or perhaps multiple people, fell to their knees.

“Thank goodness…”

“Ah, thank you, Lady Luciel…”

“Thank the gods…”

The only party member who could not wholeheartedly feel joy and relief was Kenneth, he who had saved the girl in question.

With a complicated expression, he rubbed his neck, the wounds still stinging like pinpricks.