“I made especially sure that the caravan has a good amount of diversity in their job scopes. There are a few conflicting professions, as in the end this is a trade caravan, but it isn’t enough to cause any conflict. The main purpose of multiple trades is to encourage competition, to make the caravan wealthier as a whole.”

Leading Mican around, Melinda didn’t introduce him to the members of the caravan, but seemingly more important to her, the various professions that the caravan contained. They walked together through the grass across a wide clearing on the plains, several forests off in the background.

“We do travel often, but we also take long breaks at the various major cities around the region. I’d prefer if we did travel everyday, but this was at the strong insistence of all of the previous and current members of the caravan.”

More so than anything else, it seemed of utmost importance to her to explain the functions of the caravan and how it worked to him.

“After a long while of travelling, I’ve made connections with plenty of groups in the various cities, towns, and even villages. I have my ways to notify them beforehand and rent out their public squares or plazas.”

Harold had indeed mentioned before that the caravan had been established for longer than he could remember, for at least ten years. A couple of things were brought to his mind hearing the words from her own mouth though.

“If you’ve been travelling so long, shouldn’t you be fairly well off already? Is it wanderlust? Or maybe ambition?” Unable to hold back his curiosity, he voiced the matter out.

Mican knew that it was best not to pry into strange matters, but the woman’s mysteriousness intrigued him. The caravan leader hardly interacted with her members, from what he could tell.

“I am indeed quite well off, but of course, there’s a greater purpose to this.” She shot him a warm smile. “I suppose you could call it ambition, in a way. Yes.”

“Boss?! B-boss! Is anything happening? What’s wrong? Do you need any help?” As the two were walking, a gruff voice called out to them from the side.

The owner of the voice was a fairly robust looking middle aged-man, looking to be in his late thirties. He face was red from the effort of running, and he was panting slightly, clearly panicked. The man held a hammer in his hand, his grip on the tool so tight his knuckles were turning white. It was clear that he had hastily grabbed it from somewhere.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Heath. I’m merely giving Mican here a tour around the caravan.”

This was the fourth time this very same interaction had happened, and each time Melinda had responded the same way.

The middle-aged man, Heath, had his jaw drop in response to the words, evidently shocked. His arms hung limp at his side and the hammer even slipped from his hand, watching dumbly as they walked away.

“That was Heath Fleta, one of our resident jewelers. He’s quite the grumpy person but in turn very sincere. He’s very skilled at his craft, so you can ask him if you need anything related to it.”

Each encounter with the caravan members had confused Mican more and more. At first, Mican thought the woman was merely eccentric, but it was clear to him now that he was getting special treatment of some sort, given how obvious it was that Melinda did not act this way regularly.

“Wait, Boss Melinda! Can you tell me what’s going on? Why are you walking with the newbie?”

Heath seemed to hold a fair amount of respect for his boss, addressing her with her title and not daring to stop her, but he still couldn’t seem to hold in his curiosity.

“Heehee! It’s alright, Heath. Don’t stress yourself about it.” Giggling softly, Melinda gave the jeweler a soft smile.

In response to the look, Heath immediately began freezing up, nervously mumbling out several words of apology. After a moment of watching the middle-aged man fumble with his speech, the young woman’s face softened, and she turned to address him.

“Mican. If you’re bored then feel free to continue ahead, up further should be the Hathwaye camp. You can also stay and wait for me if you so choose. Whatever you please.”

Turning her head back to Mican before addressing the jeweler, she gave him a warm smile. Seeing this, Heath shuddered involuntarily, his mind not being able to cope with the sudden change in his boss which he had never seen before.

“I’ll go ahead then.”

“I will catch up with you in just a tiny bit, after I finish addressing my caravan member.”

Speaking in truth, if Mican had not gained the strange new ability to tell lie from truth, he never would have accepted the odd kindness from the caravan leader. It was especially so after learning that this behaviour was unusual. To be quite frank, it made him nervous, but it also incited his curiosity like never before.

Walking along the flattened grass, the young man’s curiosity of the situation only grew stronger. Was he really that charming?

“Mister… Mican, was it? The new guy? What are you doing here, in our camp?”

As he was walking, a voice interrupted him from his thoughts. Pausing in place, Mican turned his head up to find a young lady staring at him curiously, sitting on a log near a small fire.

The girl was around her late teens, she had shining yellow hair and was cute and vibrant, full of the energy of youth.

If he remembered properly, her name was Poppy Hathwaye, of the Hathwaye family. He had seen her twice before, the first time as one of the dancers in the square, and the second time the day before, in a brief introduction led by Harold.

“Hm… I came here to introduce myself, properly, I suppose.” The young man gave a brief thought to what he was to say.

“Again? Quite polite the polite one aren’t you?” The girl gave a curt response as she turned her head away from the young man, evidently bored. “My name is Poppy Hathwaye, and I’m a dancer. You haven’t met my big bro and sis, but they’re here somewhere too.”

Picking up a stick, Poppy waved it about as if to emphasize her statement, poking at the firewood afterwards.

“Mican, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. How are the introductions going?” A slight shout accompanied by soft footsteps rang out behind Mican, and he turned to see Melinda jogging towards him.

Stopping beside him, the young woman leaned down slightly and paused to quickly inspect the area.

“I see you’ve met Poppy already. Poppy, meet my dear Mican. He’s our newest member, and I will not tolerate any acts of rudeness towards him.” Standing up straight, Melinda gave a teasing expression towards the young lady. “She’s one of the dancers of the caravan which I had taken in a few years ago.”

Quite differently as compared to the members they had previously met, Poppy’s jaw did not drop, albeit her eyes widening and her brows raising in surprise. She, like Sarah, alternated her gaze between Mican and her leader, her eyes wide and blinking.

After a pause, she turned towards Mican, and a gleam of curiosity grew in her eyes. She gave him deeper inspection, looking him up and down, as if giving him a new appraisal.

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“Where have your brother and sister gone, Poppy?”

“I don’t know, Miss Melinda. They went off to talk to Levina about something, related to business I think.”

“I see, well there’s always next time. I’ll see you later. Poppy.” Gently grabbing Mican’s hand again, Melinda began leading him away once again, giving the young lady a quick wave.

Waving back, Poppy watched them with bright eyes as they went off.

“I had hired the Hathwaye trio several years back, seeing as to how they didn’t have bad personalities. They’re meant to attract customers to the trade festivals we hold and increase revenue for our tailors, as models.” She gave Mican a brief overview of the group, as she did with all of the members they came across. “You don’t have to feel too reserved around them. I don’t accept people of bad character into my caravan.”

“…I understand.”

It was somehow comforting to Mican, seeing the young lady. It seemed to him as if antsy teenagers existed even across worlds, in all eras.

“The sun is going to set soon, but there’s enough time for one more introduction. Hmm, perhaps Graham would do for today?”

Looking up at the sky, the day was indeed darkening as the light began growing dimmer, the sun being covered by the clouds, almost disappearing behind the distant mountains. The weather in turn also got slightly colder.

“If I could suggest somebody, I’d like to meet the hm… the potion-maker of the group.” Nodding his head, he turned to Melinda.

“Our alchemist? That’s a great choice! Follow me, my sweet. He’s fairly introverted, but I’ll make sure he opens up for you.”

Holding onto Mican’s hand, her warmth seemed to dispel any chilliness he was feeling in the air. Walking forward, she led him across the camp.

Across the entire caravan’s campsite, a small fire had been set up. The location for the fire was fairly obscure, a little distance away from the various wagons where the horses rested.

No normal person would set up a resting spot here, much less a bedroll, due to the overwhelming stench of horse excrement that tended to waft around the area. Not only that, but the location would likely be the first location that wild animals would choose to attack, due to the abundant supply of fresh meat. Of course, adventurers would have already cleared out the perimeter, and the proper safety precautions would have already been taken, but there was always the slight risk out in the wild.

Despite the disgusting stench in the air that had suggested dirty conditions, the area that Mican walked into had been cleaned impeccably.

A large tarp had been set out, blocking the light of the sun and leaves from the trees, and a large roll of fabric had been rolled out onto the ground, pinned at all four corners by several spikes that had been hammered into the ground.

There were no ripples at all in the carpet, and there was not a speck of dirt on it either.

At the center of the mat, two distinct items had been set out. The first one was a large cast-metal iron cauldron, and the second was a small wooden stand upon which a book had been set out on display.

The metal cauldron had four prongs on the bottom, supporting it in standing up. Looking at it, Mican was immediately reminded of the cauldrons in the fairytales of his old world, where witches would sit at, stirring ominously.

“Quite clean isn’t it? Don’t mind the stench.” Completely unbothered by the smell, Melinda kept her sweet smile on her face, directed at Mican. “An alchemist’s work surroundings should be quiet, unbothered by noise, and extremely clean as to not allow foreign elements, such as dirt or leaves, into the brew.”

The two stepped into the small clearing, avoiding the layer of fabric carefully.

“Everly takes better to those standards than most others, which is why he sets up here. Nobody comes around these parts due to the stench, and he bears through it entirely.” A thoughtful expression appeared on the young woman’s face as she talked. “That silly little boy. He should really learn to make friends properly. You can go and touch whatever you want to Mican, if you’re interested. I’ll make sure that he will accept it.”

“Uh, thank you for the offer, but no thank you.” Despite his curiosity, Mican held back.

Even with Melinda’s assurance, he didn’t feel the need to cause troubles or create animosity with the person of the mysterious profession. The lesser potion of healing he had taken a few days ago only furthered that opinion.

“HEY! Who’s there?! Duarte, is that you? Have I not told you to wait until dinnertime if you wanted more stories? Alchemy is a very strict process, and your father cannot shoulder the responsibility if I’m to fail and waste my ingredients.” As the two chatted, an angry and loud shout came from the side.

The voice was not deep, but not light either. Turning his head to the right, Mican spotted movement coming from the wagons, where the voice had originated.

Pushing past several of the wagon flaps, an annoyed looking young man came out from a gap between the multiple wagons, swiftly walking towards them.

The young man, Everly, did not look like the traditional alchemist that one would expect from modern video games and movies. He didn’t have an absurd amount of potions attached to belts across his body, nor any flashy clothing or whatnot.

He was dressed quite simply actually, wearing a light-green shirt with multiple folds under a white apron that covered his upper body. He wore a dull white pair of trousers along with a tight-fitting pair of laced boots. His long-sleeves extended into a pair of light brown gloves made of a fabric that looked much too exquisite for a product of a medieval age.

His clothes were quite simple, with simple colors, and yet they screamed out luxury from the way they had been weaved.

Everly himself had a fairly handsome face. His facial features looked as if they had been placed out meticulously, with large yet mean looking eyes and an elegant nose. He had short brown hair on his head, that hung down slightly. All in all, he looked a lot like a KPOP star, despite not being nearly as well groomed.

“Uh… Boss Melinda? I apologize for speaking so harshly, I hadn’t known it was you. What brings you around here? Are we in danger? Do you need a special order?” Approaching the two, Everly slowed his pace as he caught proper sight of them.

As he neared them, a surprised expression appeared on his face, and a bit of curiosity gleaned in his eyes as he looked at Mican standing next to the caravan leader.

“Little Everly.” Melinda gave the alchemist a nod with an expressionless face as she spoke a small title of endearment. “Nothing is wrong, I had merely decided to introduce my dear Mican to the various members of my caravan.”

“Hello there, Everly. My name is Mican Aster.” Mican greeted the young man and reached his hand out.

“…My name is Everly Osborn, hello.”

The alchemist’s face scrunched up in blatant confusion as he turned his head between Mican and Melinda, but he ended up reaching his hand out and reciprocating the handshake.

One thing that Mican noted was that he was not completely stunned upon seeing his boss out, despite looking extremely confused that she was with another person. While he was surprised, he still held his own and was not flustered, which made it obvious to Mican that he had at least some sort of standing in the caravan, especially with how luxurious his clothing appeared.

“This is Everly, our resident alchemist. I had recruited him a good few years back, and he’s likely one of, if not the most important current addition we have to the caravan. Good alchemists are fairly rare, after all. Especially one so passionate about his profession.” The caravan leader gave the alchemist several taps on the shoulder as she faced Mican. “Please treat Mican well, Everly.”

Seeing his leader smile playfully at Mican, another confused look showed on Everly’s face, but he nodded anyway. While nodding, he gave a visible scowl towards Mican.

“Fine, but don’t expect any special treatment just because you’re favoured by the boss for whatever reason, got it? I can take orders from you, but you’ll have to wait in line like everyone else.” He grumpily turned away from the two, opening the book on the stand and facing the cauldron. “Now if you’re done here, please leave.”

Mican had the strange suspicion that there would be no ‘please’ in his words if Melinda had not been there, but he sensed no animosity from the young man. It seemed likely to Mican that this was how he treated most people.

Deciding not to bother the alchemist any longer, Mican looked at Melinda, who in turn smiled at him and began leading him away.

“You would not have understood before, but it is a good thing that Everly said he will accept orders from you, Mican. He only accepts such a thing rarely, for strangers.”

“I see. I still won’t be thanking you though.” Mican nodded along.

“Hahaha!” In response, Melinda gave off a joyful and dainty laugh towards the sky, covering her mouth with her hand.

It surprised him that such a small woman seemed to contain so many mysteries. The caravan itself felt like one big mystery to Mican.

As they walked along the grass, a chilly breeze brushed past Mican’s face. While were talking to Everly, the sun had set behind the distant mountains, and light almost all but faded from the sky. The lights of the fires lit up the camp’s surroundings, and figures could be seen moving about the camp, the sounds of chattering filling the air.

The place Melinda led Mican to was Becket’s fire, on the other side of the camp. The delicious scent of roasting meat lingered in the air, brushing past Mican’s nose.

“I had told Becket to prepare a good meal today, as we are quite close to the city of Gaspereau. We should be there in another day, and we can stock up on supplies while we’re there.”

“How long do we plan to stay there?”

“I suppose around three days, just like Spurrose. Then we will leave to visit the mountain city of Granberia, but similarly will not be staying there long.” The caravan leader’s dainty nose sniffed at the air several times. “Just tell me if you have any requests on where to go, and I can accommodate. On our current course, the caravan should come to a stop after Granberia for a while.”

“How far is Enbarr from Granberia?”

“Mmm, fairly far. We’re quite a distance off in general, and it should be at least several stops away from Granberia, depending on the speed of the caravan.”

“That’s fine then.” The young man nodded.

It was fine with Mican, staying at Granberia. It was not like he was in a rush to leave the caravan, and it was better for him to familiarize himself with the world with a shield covering him, being the Willow Caravan.

After confirming his plans, Mican and the caravan leader walked towards the figure rotating large chunks of seasoned meat over the fire, to eat their meal.