“No, I don’t come from Sutton. I’m something of a scholar, I suppose. I’ve learned many different languages throughout the years.” Thinking fast, the young man gave the first answer that came to his mind.

“Ahh, that’s understandable, Sutton is so far after all. I’m not from Sutton either, but I had been raised on their customs.” Glancing at his son, Harold gave a brief chuckle. “Honestly I had never thought I’d meet another person who spoke Saerl for the rest of my life, even after all of my time travelling.”

This language problem was a great boon to Mican, but at the same time, not knowing was a large inconvenience to him. He was essentially being forced into a position where he knew every language in the world, and spoke them fluently. To be quite frank, it was extremely suspicious.

Though he was greatly interested in testing the limits of his newfound ability, seeing as to how he was even able to understand a language from a place ‘so far’.

Rose had told him he had been speaking the divine language of the gods. He refused to believe that it didn’t have anything to do with what was going on with him. Was he hearing the divine language through their words? Was he speaking the divine language to them, allowing them to understand him? What was that language Leigh was speaking, if even he couldn’t understand it?

“About the price… since you’re a scholar of my spiritual home’s language, I’ll give you two and a half silver coins for the knives. It’s a completely reasonable price, what do you say?” Grinning, Harold sheepishly scratched the back of his head, hoping to put the shameful little event behind him.

“You have a deal, Harold.” Seeing as how it was a complete truth, Mican saw no reason not to accept the deal.

The transaction went through smoothly, the attitude of both the father and son much more amiable after learning that Mican spoke their home language.

Shaking hands, the two smiled and exchanged items. Seeing as to how Harold had bargained so much for a mere two coins, it seemed to Mican that they were worth a bit more than he had originally thought.

By extension, a mere C class party carrying all of this money meant to him that adventuring was clearly a very profitable profession.

“Mican, wait a second.” As the young man began turning away, a hand gently landed on his shoulder, stopping him.

Turning around, it was Harold who had stopped him from leaving. There was no hostility clear, but a hesitant look was on the blacksmith’s face.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered someone who has spoken Saerl besides my family, and if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to let you go.” The middle-aged man looked at Mican with earnest eyes. “Besides, this is a good business opportunity.”

Mican paused in his steps and turned back to the man, curious.

“As you are a learned man, how many languages are you able to speak in, Mican? If I may be so bold as to ask.”

“Well, I can’t say for sure but I’m fluent in quite a few.”

“That’s fantastic! Mican, are you able to write as well?” Harold’s face lit up as he heard his response.

“Yes I am, in a couple languages as well, why?”

An expression of extreme surprise appeared on the father and son’s faces, and they exchanged a glance.

“Are you perhaps previous nobility of some sort? Being literate in Godsech alone is difficult enough, not to mention several other languages.”

A small furrow appeared on Mican’s brows as he realized he had made a mistake, but it quickly disappeared.

“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” Quick to catch on, Harold caught the furrow, though he misunderstood the meaning of the expression. “No matter what, it’s a good thing. Hm, would you be willing to join the Willow Caravan as an assistant to the group?”

Seeing as to how the world was fairly medieval in its development, Mican could see why literacy would be highly valued. This was even despite the strange supernatural nature of the world though, which slightly surprised him. The only explanation he could think of was that the world was a much larger place than he had originally thought.

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“This is a very sudden question Harold.” Mican was not against the offer, but he had to learn more as a basic safety precaution to himself.

“Of course, it’s understandable if you don’t wish to join. I’m simply throwing the offer out there. You’d be a very useful asset when it comes to finishing deals or commissions with any aristocrats or the like. Those types always highly value education in a person, among other things.”

“Does the group usually just invite people like this? Or even, do you have the authority to accept a member?

“Don’t worry about that, we have a special method to filter out any undesirables after they’ve joined, it’s included in who allows me to invite. I’ll tell you if you decide to join us, how about it?”

Standing on the spot, Mican placed his hand to his chin, looking down at the ground in deep thought. Seeing this, the father and son duo decided not to disturb him and went back to their business as to not pressure the young man into a decision.

In an unknown land, in an unknown world, surrounded by unfamiliar people, a source of guidance would be greatly welcomed to Mican. He was confident he could survive alone, given his strength, but enemies were closing in on him, and he needed a shield to ward them off. Something that wouldn’t slow him down.

A travelling trade caravan was a fairly good cover, even if they wouldn’t vouch for him if the Church of War came knocking at their doors. One of the most important things was that joining the group would allow him access into the larger cities, like Grantold.

Not to mention, he had no map or destination, and no survival skills in the wild as of yet. The young man was more than willing to learn, but he had no choice in the matter seeing as to how he was urgently on the run.

Thinking more on this topic, the larger cities would definitely contain such information, on both survival, geography, and the mystery he was the most curious about, the golden blood.

“Harold, is the caravan headed to a destination where I can, erm… learn more knowledge about the world?” Phrasing his words carefully, asked the blacksmith hesitantly.

“You know so much yet you want to know even more? The scholarly mindset is extremely admirable.” Harold nodded in admiration, giving Mican an appraising look. “I don’t know if there’s a place specifically, but our boss would definitely know. We’re headed to plenty of cities anyway, I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for there.”

“Then Harold, yes. I’m willing to join the Willow Caravan.” Giving the middle-aged man a firm look, Mican decisively accepted the proposal.

The merits of the situation heavily outweighed the demerits, and the young man had decided to make best use of the opportunity that had fallen into his lap.

“You’ve made the correct choice Mican, you won’t regret it, I promise.” Standing up, the blacksmith gave Mican’s hand a firm shake. “Now follow me, I’ll take you to meet the boss. On the way I’ll let you know what I meant about the selection process.”

The two men turned around and began walking away, Mican giving Duarte an appreciative nod, which was returned.

“I’ll be honest Mican, there is no selection process or filter method that I know of, hahaha. It’s the boss that decides everything, and she never makes the wrong decisions.” Chuckling out loud, the blacksmith gave Mican his answer as the two walked. “She asks all of the members to invite people, and whether she allows them to stay, or rejects them, her choices never end up being wrong.”

“Never wrong? How would you know that?” The young man gave the other a skeptical look, sounding out his doubts.

“Trust me, she only accepts good people. The boss is basically like a god to us members of the caravan, she never makes the wrong decision. If she tells me to dive into a danger-zone, I’d gladly do it as it’s probably the best possible decision.”

“Your faith in your boss is disconcerting to say the least.”

“We’ve been in worse situations, and she’s always guided us out without a scratch. You’ll see it for yourself if she lets you in, though if she doesn’t, I’m sorry in advance.”

As they weaved through the stands in the square, Mican’s thoughts deepened. His curiosity for this so-called boss grew slightly.

Harold wasn’t the most outstanding person from what he could see so far, so he couldn’t trust him fully on the topic, but to safely guide a group through danger-zone in a world filled strange and dangerous creatures was enough for him to place importance on the matter.

A little while later of walking, the two came upon the sight of several people in a small clearing outside of a small purple tent.

It was a middle-aged man talking quickly to two people, who Mican assumed to be members of the caravan. He pointed his hands to-and-fro, sending the two running off into the square.

“Graham, what’s wrong? What’s with the commotion?” As the two approached, Harold waved his hand and asked the man curiously.

“Harold? Good timing. Can you get your two children to wake up and tell the rest of the caravan members that we have to move? It’s urgent.” The man, Graham, looked at Harold and gave him a quick request.

“Well I can, but what’s wrong? Weren’t we scheduled to head out tomorrow morning? What happened?”

“You haven’t heard? Two demons have escaped imprisonment and have slaughtered an important figure in the Church of War. I’m not worried about the demons, but the Church is on a rampage. They’ve already locked down Grantold, a major city, in their search. It’s only a matter of time before they get to Spurrose.”

“For serious? Alright, I’ll get to it immediately, but I have a new member, what should we do about this?” A frown appeared on Harold’s face, and his foot began tapping rapidly out of anxiety.

“Hm? We’ll have to deal with it on the road, Melinda is too busy right now. Our first priority is getting the caravan moving again, so pack up as quickly as you can.” Giving Mican a dismissive glance, the man gave a curt response and began walking away.

“I’m sorry about this Mican, but we’ll have to deal with this first. Do you mind waiting just a bit longer?” Giving Mican an apologetic look, Harold sighed slightly.

“Don’t worry about it, I can wait.”

After the short exchange, the two began swiftly walking back to Harold’s tarp.