When the first day passed without any results, Rowan thought that the assassination attempt was going to meet a quiet end. He obviously didn’t know Camilla Sutton, the woman who had once struck fear into the minds of all who opposed her family as duchess, well enough.

As day after day passed with little information, Camilla’s dormant coals of frustration grew into a bonfire of anger. She began taking actions that she probably would have otherwise avoided.

Suddenly, businesses were hit by fines and legal trouble, mercenary companies found their services rebuffed, and certain key establishments, especially those under the mayoral office’s purveyance, were refusing to service outsiders entirely.

The last point became a pretty big deal, especially in a town where everyone was at least nominally loyal to the mayor. The mercenaries would soon find themselves running low on supplies and when that happened, it was anyone’s guess as to what would happen.

“Still no information?” Rowan asked as he signed the latest orders drafted by Camilla that imposed even more restrictions on the mercenaries. The baroness was playing a dangerous game but it was one Rowan supported wholeheartedly.

“Nothing useful. But with more pressure, someone’s bound to step forward,” Camilla answered.

“Do we really need to keep staying inside?” Olivia hissed. “Unless they bring an epic, no one’s going to be able to touch us.”

“Olivia, you do realize there are people who want you dead out there, and there are more ways to kill a person than in straight combat. Especially when you’re going to be parading in front of them willingly?” Camilla countered.

In moments like these, it was easy to see that the baroness wasn’t just worried about Rowan’s life. There was a very real fear that someone would go after her daughter next, who was nowhere near as well-equipped to survive having her heart destroyed as the hero was.

“People have wanted to kill me my whole life.” Olivia tried a different tact. “You can’t tell me otherwise! The first time someone tried to poison me, I was two years old. I know that for a fact because you keep reminding me of it.”

Rowan choked a little on the tea his chamberlain had handed to him.

“Exactly. And I’ve kept you alive through all of that. Don’t you think I am keenly aware of what it will take to keep you breathing?” Camilla brushed off Olivia’s argument with ease.

“Mother, I love you, but I will not abandon the people I consider friends and the responsibilities I’ve taken on in favor of sitting pretty and safe in my room.”

“You are also free to sit in this office. Maybe finally take the time to learn about governance for once. Seeing as you seem to be keen on eventually marrying a hero, it’s only fair to learn how to act as a lady in your own right,” Camilla said, her words finding their mark with deadly accuracy.

Olivia sputtered and Rowan gave a sheepish grin. He noticed that she didn’t actually protest. It was sort of hard to argue the fact that they’d spent the last three days going to bed together. They hadn’t done anything but cuddle and sleep, of course.

“We’ve already increased the security around the town,” Rowan said. For the time being, he resolved to put his feelings on the subject aside and help sort out the argument. “We’ll alternate our routes out of and coming back into Rest’s Remorse. But we can’t very well abandon all the plans we have, both for the sake of personal growth and the growth of our troops.”

For just a moment, the baroness’s eyes flared with something cold and wrathful. Fortunately for Rowan, she took a moment to breathe before speaking up again.

“If I find out you took unnecessary risks, any unnecessary risks at all, you won’t need to worry about demons getting to you. Do you two understand me?” Camilla said.

In spite of her mother’s anger, Olivia looked nothing short of ecstatic as she bounded over to give her a hug with quiet assurances that she would be fine, before fleeing the room quickly to resume her regular preparations for the next day’s hunting.

Rowan could have just fled himself. However, curiosity got the best of him. “Why? I mean, I’m glad you agreed, but why?”

“Because she’s not just my daughter anymore,” Olivia’s mother admitted, pain in her voice. “She has her own goals and responsibilities now. If I continue pretending that’s not the case, she’ll just grow to resent me eventually.”

Rowan couldn’t find the words to respond to that. He nodded solemnly and managed a quick sentence before he left.

“I’ll do my best to take care of her.”

—

“We’re almost done with the basic prep.” Rowan’s eyes glided over the rows of soldiers marching back to town, and there was no denying the surge of pride and happiness in him.

Within a week of starting their live training, the recruits were already showing remarkable results and becoming real soldiers. However, higher levels only told part of the story, and a very incomplete one, at that.

All of the new soldiers were now at uncommon. One very rare, and very valuable class had even been dragged up to rare. In the spear division, one of the soldiers had managed to land the [Standard Bearer] at the uncommon tier. In its rare form? It was a game changer.

“Only the basics, hmm? Not going to declare us ready to explore the wider area, and even launch an expedition of our own?” Olivia teased, but Rowan could detect a hint of underlying seriousness.

He hesitated. “We might be able to, honestly. We have a lot of rare classes, which is rare enough in any army apparently. The additional recruits we just got would make things a whole lot easier too. But if we bite off more than we can chew, the whole thing could collapse,” Rowan said. “We can’t afford a defeat. Not yet.”

“Then we’ll stay the path,” Olivia declared. “We have time. We don’t need to rush into any decisions yet.”

“We have some time. Which is slipping away from us already,” Rowan sighed, and took a moment to look around.

Thanks to Camilla, the town was in a better state. Most of the rubble had been cleared, while the collapsed houses were demolished and scavenged for any and all useful material. In other words, the town looked cleaner, and the plots of land where houses once stood showed promise of a better future.

“You’re worried about the expedition?” Olivia guessed.

“Yeah,” Rowan admitted. “It’s better if we face the challenge head on, like we’ve been doing.”

“You mean I’ll be forced to watch while you do something borderline suicidal?” Olivia quipped and Rowan’s face twitched slightly. Recently, Olivia began using comments and other little things to remind him when he stepped too far out of line.

It happened when he did or said something stupid, just like when he charged a rare tier, odd-looking mud crab monster that almost bisected him with its claws. Learning what exactly would happen if he took damage like that wasn’t in his plans for the day, so after a quick use of Blood for Blood, Rowan emerged victorious and in one whole piece.

That did get him thinking about the limits of Natural Renewal combined with Lavish Feasting. Knowing what he could survive was important in judging the risks he could take for the future. But that experiment would have to wait.

“I’m not sure I want to wait until the kingdom forces the issue. If we leave early, we can decide what to do instead of having to follow their demands,“ Rowan explained.

“That… makes sense, I suppose. Our king hasn’t been very sensible or reasonable as of late.” Olivia grumbled, no doubt thinking about her father’s political position. Rowan knew he didn’t have the full picture there, and whenever he tried to subtly ask, she would rebuff him.

Politely, but firmly.

“Do you think we could have everything ready to go in a couple of days? I realize this might not be the ideal timing, but then again, it might be useful to get out of the town while your mother figures out the assassination attempt,” Rowan asked.

“Possibly. You do remember that you asked me to prepare a whole lot of different, often highly situational, potions, right?”

“I know.”

Rowan tensed slightly as he noticed a few pairs of eyes watching him. At the moment, they were too far to be a threat. Ever since the assassination attempt, they were giving assailants no easy opportunities.

For starters, the hero party stuck together, no longer disbanding to optimize the army training schedule. That meant Rowan was under Marcus’ meticulous aura protection at all times. The shield bearer’s ability to use his aura as a damage sponge was prodigious. His own vitality stats allowed him to shrug off damage that would take his sister’s or Olivia’s life.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Second, Rowan had his own healing combination. He made sure to never overtax Lavish Feasting during normal fighting. The extra energy from the card might be the difference between life and death.

And third, the group was in the middle of an entire army. Around them were rows of soldiers, all looking ready for war and pretty pissed at the prospect of someone trying to kill their mayor. Rowan’s soldiers, new and old, really did seem to love him. A part of that was self-interest in that Rowan was willing to share experience and card drops. But there also seemed to be a deeper loyalty, they were following a hero who genuinely had their best interests in mind.

“I just hope something happens, soon. Mom is going to be absolutely enraged if we fail to discover anything in the end, and trust me, no one wants to deal with her when she’s like that.”

—

Olivia’s words were nearly prophetic, since the baroness’s mood went lower and lower the longer they went without results. This, in turn, resulted in harsher treatment for the guilds and companies in the town.

Finally, it got bad enough that Camilla won a Pyrrhic victory.

“They’re finally starting to crack. I knew they would, eventually, but I was really starting to think I’d have to do something drastic to bring them to that point soon,” Camilla explained to Rowan and Olivia after they returned from their latest leveling trip.

Rowan didn’t want to imagine what drastic meant to the baroness. Half the taxation documents he had stamped were severe enough that the town’s own income was suffering.

“What did they say?” Olivia asked.

“That two-bit mage and the Mercenary King messaged us. The latter to show support and deny any and all involvement in the attack. The former to express her condolences and apologies over not being more useful for our investigation. The problem is, I think they’re being sincere,” Camilla said.

“That’s a good thing right?” Rowan asked, failing to see the reason why the news was making the baroness frown so much. “I thought we wanted more allies.”

“Yes, but we’re never going to have that… mage, on our side. The same applies to Blood Reaver. They’d both sell us out in a second if they could. The Mercenary King is different, of course, but…”

But, he was also the Mercenary King. The man had already stated that he wasn’t going to help in the expeditions. Short a miracle, nothing was going to budge the troops under the Mercenary King.

“What about Blood Reaver? Has he contacted us?”

“No.” Camilla looked conflicted. “It’s pretty obvious he knows something.”

“So he’s our main suspect?”

“Not yet. There’s something here that I’m missing. Something that explains all of this.”

—

It was another day before a letter from Florin arrived, expressing his regret over the attack and the difficulties they were facing due to the less scrupulous members of the mercenary profession. He didn’t share any relevant information about the assassination attempt. Just a bland letter for the sake of sending a letter.

Just a couple hours after Florin’s letter, a second one from Tamara arrived.

Rowan and the rest of the hero party were summoned to Camilla’s office and found the baroness stalking around the room in short, frighteningly controlled steps.

Taking the letter, Rowan’s eyes catching on the relevant paragraphs quite easily in spite of the rambling nature of the text itself.

It has come to my attention that certain, less trustworthy members of my new profession have taken residence in the Rose’s Delight inn. Their activities have been growing increasingly rowdy as of late, which is why my apprentices heard about them.

I’ve taken the liberty of looking into them, at least superficially. I have to say that they are worryingly well-equipped, and that it seems like they won’t be running out of funds any time soon.

They certainly don’t seem to think so, if the way they’re acting is anything to judge by.

The rest of the letter, before and after those lines, was useless.

“What does this mean?” Rowan asked. “Well-equipped. Won’t run out of funds soon. Does that mean there’s a noble backing them?”

“Most definitely,” Camilla answered. “I bet that she knows who. But she’s dangling that information in front of us as bait. She’ll never tell us. She just wants to know how much we know.”

“And what do we know?” Rowan said.

“Not enough.”

Rowan resisted the urge to frown. These days, his emotions didn’t bubble up to his face as often. It had started back at the village when Bron taught him about what it meant to lead men. Slowly but surely, Rowan was getting better control of his emotions, even without Keen Spear.

The current situation was sorely testing his patience though. If there was another faction backed by nobles in the town, that just made the whole situation a lot more complicated.

“I say we hit first,” Olivia said. “Honestly, I can whip up some kind of fire accelerant. More homes around here are made of stone, but it’s not impossible for them to catch fire. Have them meet us on our territory.”

Rowan looked at Olivia blankly for several moments, before her suggestion caught up with him. “Olivia! We’re not committing arson. Especially with bystanders in the building.”

His slightly murderous alchemist sighed. “You’re right. It would be awfully hard to get any evidence if it all went up in flames.”

—

The baroness had the inn watched for the last six hours while Rowan put things in place, soldiers strategically moving into the district in pairs of twos and threes.

It was a hard task. The Rose’s Delight inn was too central on the street it was located on and soldiers didn’t make for the best spies. Still, by some miracle, the enemy group didn’t notice them. People came and went from the inn, armored but not jumpy.

For the last two hours, Rowan decided to watch the inn himself. At first, things looked normal but as time went on, fewer and fewer people began to exit the somewhat large building.

They know. I don’t know how but they know that we’re here. And now they’re preparing a counterattack, Rowan thought. He signaled for the rest of his party to be alert.

As the minutes passed and nothing happened, Rowan began to doubt his judgement. He started to develop a slight headache. One second, he was staring at an innocuous person crossing the street, the next, he was blinking stars out of his eyes. He forced himself to relax and when he finally unclenched his shoulder muscles, the pain in his head eased too.

“We should go,” Olivia whispered.

“Everyone’s in position? Perimeter is set up? I don’t want any of them escaping,” Rowan asked.

“Not even a mouse can slip through undetected,” Olivia confirmed.

“Then let’s do it.”

Rowan gave the signal and soldiers popped up from their hiding spot. One more hand movement and everyone was charging toward the inn.

The hero party was in full fighting formation as it burst through the door of the inn. Marcus was in the lead with Rowan just behind. Olivia and Milena were side by side in the back, ready to give support if they encountered a foe.

They didn’t.

Rowan slowed down his step as he took in the insides of the inn. It was a charnel house. There wasn’t a single surface that wasn’t stained in blood in some way.

The teams of mercenaries, oddly well-equipped but otherwise unremarkable, were sitting around the tables. Most of them still had half-full drinks in front of them. Some of the mercenaries had managed to react and died with a weapon in hand. It didn’t seem to make a difference, seeing how they still died in the end.

Near the back of the room was the person Rowan assumed to be the leader. She was a head taller than everyone else and had been nursing a pint of lager when she died. Her killer had somehow dealt a lethal blow before she could even put down her drink and she bled with the tankard still in her hand. Blood spooled out of her wounds and dripped onto the table and floor below.

The worst, for Rowan at least, were the staff.

One of the terrified waiters was nailed to the wall by an axe that had been driven through his stomach, handle first. A waitress laid on the floor, the only thing distinguishing her from the mercenaries was her apron. Another waitress and what he assumed was the matron of the establishment were slumped over the counter that served as the divider between the tavern and the kitchen.

With morbid curiosity, Rowan noted that the attacker had broken off the leg of a chair and driven it through the matron’s eye as the killing blow.

No one spoke, for a little while.

“How? We were all out there. We saw some of these people enter the inn!” Marcus whispered. “We should have heard or seen something.”

The slaughter had happened right under their noses.

Rowan glanced back at the soldiers still crowding the doorway and realized they needed to control the situation.

“Officers only. Everyone else, stay back. Spread out. Look upstairs. Actually, scratch that, we’ll take the upper floor. Stay here and don’t let anyone else come or go,” Rowan commanded.

Now that his hasty instructions were given, Rowan led the way up the stairs, cautious and angry. Marcus followed second. The formation felt instinctive. Marcus had a defensive aura, which meant that he could provide protection without encumbering Rowan’s attacks. More importantly, the shield bearer in the second spot meant he was closer to the girls and more readily capable of helping them.

The second floor was more of the same.

Every single room had a corpse or two, save for the ones that were completely empty.

The trend continued until they reached the final room, and realized that it had once been a mix of bedroom and study. Rowan used the word ‘was’ because the room had been entirely ransacked.

Papers were strewn all about the floor, furniture was broken and shattered, making the floor a minefield of splinters, and, Rowan noted, there were a few dying embers in the room’s fireplace.

“Shit, they burned everything,” Rowan cursed.

“What about these papers?” Marcus bent down to pick up some of them.

“Probably useless.” Rowan crouched down to look at a couple of them. Most were blank and the ones that had writing on them talked about mundane things. It was a dead end. Someone had beat them to the inn and made sure that nothing, person or paper, could give Rowan a clue about who was here. “Shit.”

Rowan sent some of the officers on the first floor to still pick up the papers and comb through them for any hints of who the mercenaries were or what they were doing in Rest’s Remorse. On instinct, he called in a couple of the soldiers and pointed at the corpses.

“Search them. If you know anyone who has a heart card good for this kind of stuff, bring them. Anything goes,” Rowan said.

Almost as soon as his voice fell, a hand near the back of the crowd of soldiers shot up. Rowan motioned the soldier to the front and was surprised to see Clarke.

“I found this in one of the bodies near the door. I thought he looked funny. He had this in his mouth,” Clarke said as he offered a bundle of fabric forward.

Rowan took the fabric and gently unfurled the strands to reveal what it held. After a few passes, he found that the fabric had a pattern and held a signet ring. Both had the same symbol. An eye, rays of sunlight that formed lashes, and a crown hovering at the top.

“How did you think to look there?” Rowan asked.

“Um, you met the doctor. Before I became a soldier, he had me helping with all sorts of things, while we took care of these two.” Clarke motioned at his party members. “Lots of the little ones used to try and hide meds in their mouths, and especially under the tongue. So, I guess I picked up a thing to two. His face just looked… off.”

“You certainly did. Thank you,” Rowan stated honestly, still eying the crest before turning to Olivia and arching his brow.

“Can’t help you much here, I’m afraid,” Olivia answered. “That doesn’t belong to a noble, but that’s all I can tell you. I’m not exactly up to date with illegal guilds and mercenary companies enough to be of help. What I can tell you is that what we found was put there by the man himself.”

“So, you mean, he wanted someone to find the crest? That why he stuffed it in his mouth?”

“Judging by the torn and desecrated bodies of some of these corpses around us, yes. It seems like every shred of their affiliation was removed and carefully destroyed. He probably wanted someone to know at least a hint of truth about this place.”

Now that she pointed it out and Rowan looked more closely, it was true. Lines that were far too pale around people’s fingers showed where they used to wear bands just like the one in his hands. Patches of clothes where an insignia should have gone were also missing.

Rowan just stared at the trinkets the man had so desperately wanted to safeguard and promised that he would get to the bottom of everything. No matter what it took.