The arrow pissed the Elf off more than it hurt. He swiped his sword in annoyance, not noticing that he had cut Numisley's toes. Numisley's scream urged Cultrost forwards toward the Elf. The Elf swung his long zweihander recklessly. Graten narrowly parried it, almost tumbling towards the ground. With his free hand, Graten pushed Cultrost away a second before another horizontal slash of that zweihander made a wall of dust as his sword swept down on the ground.

   "Hét! Don't be reckless!" Graten scolded Cultrost.

  "But Numisley-"

"I know! So let's kill him quickly!"

They felt the fearsome Aura from the Elf, a veteran of dozens of battles. He is the most dangerous foe they have faced so far. Graten was sorely familiar with this overwhelming feeling.

The Lizardfolk fired his gun, and the Dullahan unleashed a volley of arrows. The Elf simply angled his long blade with one hand so that he could block some of them with the flat end. The bullet didn't break his sword, much to the Lizardfolk's dismay. Some arrows pierced his flesh, but he did not budge. The Elf's grip tightened as his body prepared for a great swing.

"Eight Divines damn it, duck!" Graten ducked and pulled Graten to the ground as he sensed that Feat.

A wide arc of pressurized air from the swing had cut a dozen trees in half. Two trees fell upon Torozz and Cyneth, and Cultrost didn't see what had happened to them.

"[Summon Mount]!"

Ridi took a piece of the Elf's shoulder with a lance charge from his horse that he summoned from below with his Feat. The Elf whirled as Ridi turned his horse towards him to charge him again, but he fell forwards as the horse was beheaded with a sudden cleave from the Elf's zweihander. Graten locked swords with the Elf, and his shoes dug in the soil with the great strength of the Deathseeker. His past comrades held the blade in place, appearing beside Graten as apparitions that only he saw. Even the combined strength of his comrades was not enough as Graten was thrown back by the Elf's swing, breaking out of the clash of blades. Graten tumbled to the ground with such force that he cracked the tree trunk. The impact had knocked him unconscious.

Ridi rode towards the Elf again with his lance couched, but the Elf turned, and his zweihander horizontally cut the horse in half. Ridi rolled to the ground to mitigate the impact of his fall.

The old Elf glared at Cultrost, his cloudy red eyes making Cultrost shiver. With only his remaining arm that held a sword closer to a polearm at length, he had defeated Graten and Ridi, far more capable than him. Even if the Deathseeker's shoulder was torn off. As strong as Jascias' best men. Upon this revelation, his knees shivered. His arms felt weak, his hand threatening to drop his mace. Yet something new was etching itself into his soul: the pages of his book.

The Satyr stomped his left hoof on the ground with newfound bravery. He charged, and the Elf swung down his sword. Instinctively, Cultrost raised his free arm. In a second, his arm was enveloped by a phantom bracer, but it had shattered the moment the zweihander hit him. His arm broke from the mitigated impact.

The Elf lost too much blood, and at that vulnerable moment, Cultrost pivoted, breaking his knee with his mace. The weakened Deathseeker fell, and Ridi pierced his heart with a thrown lance, recovered from that clash. Yet the Deathseeker was rising up. Cultrost broke his uninjured leg with another strike.

  His mace hit the side of his head, cracking his skull.

  He still lives.

  He swung his mace again and again. Again and again. Again and again. Again and again.

  Until he can't move.

  Until all his bones shattered and flesh tear.

  Until his breath is no more.

  Cultrost was panting, staring at the corpse weakly. It took a while before he finally died. He heard that [Warriors] who lived long enough can survive even a blade to their heart and even death magic.

  The corpse was smiling.

  It was his first actual fight to the death. He had killed only monsters, not people. They were lucky that the Deathseeker didn't dodge any of their attacks despite being capable of it, simply because of their willingness to die.

   "They're dead." Graten had woken up and immediately headed towards the fallen trees. The Dullahan and the Lizardman were crushed under the weight of the trees that were cut by the Elf.

   Cultrost rushed towards the cave, seeing Numisley on the floor, half of his paralyzed foot severed and bleeding.

   "Healing potion…" Numisley whispered, suffering in agony.  

Cultrost pulled a ceramic vial from his satchel, pouring it on the wound.

"Fa'cke…" Numisley cursed as he felt the healing potion and the pain in his foot. The healing potion had made his foot painfully numb as his body's self-healing ability accelerated to close the wound, yet it didn't grow the severed half of his foot. Numisley reached out, and Cultrost pulled him up. His brother leaned on Cultrost.

"I got you," Cultrost reassured.

What happened to your arm?" Numisley saw his left arm dangling stiffly. "Also, you killed that maniac? He…they were hired by Maldent Trading. T-The Deathseeker killed his companion."

"Yeah. That Elf broke my arm before I killed him-more like I dealt the final blow. Graten and someone from Atasaney's helped," Cultrost downplayed. "...Can't move it right. Ouch." Cultrost finally felt the pain of his broken forearm after the rush from fighting died down.

"No healing potion can heal that. But I swear I'll find a way." Numisley promised.

"Is there even a way? We might have to cut…my forearm." Cultrost stared at his forearm, which was already tender. "I promised that Thunderous March [Commander] that you have information useful to him. And I got two of his [Soldiers] killed trying to defeat that Elf."

"Don't worry. I'll handle this. I got something from that headquarters." Numisley reassured.

"What? Then why are you in your underwear?" Cultrost raised his eyebrows.

"Well…"-

The group of three arrived back in the captured camp at midnight, with the corpses of their temporary companions from that mercenary army slung on the saddles of the empty horses. The [Commander] was within the new tent beside the crumbling headquarters; its interior was smoldering from burnt wood and papers. Culrost's left forearm rested on an impromptu arm sling. He sat beside Numisley, vigilant.

"Did you kill them?" The [Commander] asked.

"No. The Deathseeker killed them. He had a [Great Slash]. He cut the trees, crushing them."

The truth stone on his table glowed green, confirming that they stated the truth.

"Of course, a Deathseeker! So, you get them killed, ah?" The [Commander] regarded Cultrost and Numisley. "You better make sure that this is worth it." He pointed to Numisley.

"Of course, Commander-"

"Andrer Alchemist." The Human stroked his handlebar mustache.

"I noticed that the headquarters was burnt. Why is that?"

"One of my- Some gruel-for-brains [Mercenary] knocked over the lantern and burnt the war plans," Andrer grumbled.

"What if I told you that I have a map?" Numisley threw the verbal bait in this room.

"What map?" The [Commander] raised his eyebrows.

"Their movements for the battlefield," Numisley answered. "Is that enough payment?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Numisley handed the map to Andrer, and the [Commander]'s eyes scanned across it, analyzing the future movements of the enemy and verifying the information.

"Yes." The [Commander] looked up. "The Thunderous March is in your debt. I'll send a copy to our [General]."

"Thank you. Do you know any [Healer] that can heal a broken bone?" Numisley asked in a way that hid his desperation.

"Since we are in your debt, I'll tell you," The [Commander] said. "The ones that can heal your injuries are in the megapolises, but their fees are too high, even for you. The [Priests] are likewise occupied by many people coming to their temples. But, I know of a tribe that is most likely to help you."

"Who?" Numisley uttered.

"Veohantaye Tribe. They live at the Gaunt Peaks on Fishalttop Mountain, next to the town of Fishal. I heard from another [Commander] that he got his deformed arm healed there. Of course, there's a chance that its capabilities are exaggerated. However, it is cheaper than waiting for a dozen moons while your brother's arm rots off. Ask around in Fishal if you want to know more."

"I see. Where Is Fishal?"

"East of Tucken. You can go to the road that directly leads to the mountain. Fishal is farther."

"Tell me more of this Satyr Tribe. Why are they so close to Human lands, much less in the territory of the Diamond Shore Conglomerate?""Their castle in the mountain is unassailable. Even if the land forces of the Conglomerate can defeat any mercenary army, they can't take the Veohantaye Fortress, only the towns around them."

"Satyrs have castles?" Numisley was genuinely surprised. "No offense, brother."

"I'm a Settled Satyr with a Human name, remember?" Cultrost reminded.

"They're are Satyr cities; not those teepees or wagons in the Unconquered North, where our ancestors didn't colonize because they simply can't. Because of the Dragonhunter Tribes and their Wisest Ones…anyways, the Veohantaye Tribe can't be sieged. They made a pact with the Corporation. They would trade their powerful magic charms, services, and raw alchemical materials endemic to the mountain for money, wheat, and the products of the sea." Andrer continued.

"I see…that might be an opportunity.." Numisley pondered upon the information that he was given about the place.

The meeting with the [Commander] was finished. Both of them rested in their wagons.

Cultrost slept still within the wagon. He avoided moving in the bed like he usually does because of his broken forearm. He alternated between feeling pain and drowsiness. A moment before his eyes closed, the world etched power in the pages of his soul.

[Role Played, Warrior]!

[Feat- Weapon Proficiency: Mace developed.]

[Feat - Bonecrushing Strike developed.]

Arc Zero Completed.

[Role Attained, Mace Warrior.]

[Rare Feat - Phantom Bracer] developed!

[Rare Feat - Ignore Pain] developed!

[Rare Feat - Restore Courage] developed!

Numisley sat on the seat facing Cultrost, resting. He stared at Palvt's quarterstaff that still had its etched runes filled with blue, liquid gemstone. The runes were etched from both ends of the staff to its base. He can only understand the runes that bear the Spells of [Stone Arrows], [Wind Barrier], and [Fireball]. However, there are a dozen different runes on the staff. He had gained Feats from his deal with the [General] of the Thunderous March, gaining Feats from that deal. He had started to write in a journal about his study of his Feats and wrote his newest entry: about the Feats of [Convincing Words] and [Verify Information]. He studied the brown book, attempting to learn how to combine his two Roles.

But it was late, early morning to be exact. For Numisley's well-being, he went to sleep. His future self will worry about things tomorrow.

Arc Zero Completed.

[Role Played, Trader]!

[Feat- Lesser Durability - Goods, developed.]

[Role Played, Information Broker]!

[Feat - Evaluation of Information, developed.]

The next day, Atasaney had negotiated with Numisley about their employment under him. They sat on crates, eating a stew cooked from the looted stores of dried meat, wild herbs, chunks of bread soaked in the stew, and wild potatoes.

"I'll pay your company 20 gold per moon. Until we get to Baunt or Marienmaw. My only condition is that you will not harm the people employed in my caravan nor steal the two books. You will follow my orders. Is that clear?"

"Yeah." Atasaney agreed without hesitation. Numisley suspected he had an ulterior motive, which is most likely stealing those books, but he knew how to keep him in check.

"Sign this." Numisley handed him a contract written with [Bloodbound Contract]. Atasaney stared at it and immediately noticed that it was written with blood. However, whose blood is it?

"A Feat-based contract, eh," Atasaney remarked. "Smart."

He critically analyzed the contract written in blood before signing it. Numisley stared at the paper and his expression to glean something from him. For a moment, Atasaney smirked.

"My twenty [Riders] will be at your service." Atasaney shook Numisley's hand.

The caravan headed first to Tucken, the city before the town of Fishal. The salt flats that Tucken and Joltstown were fighting over gleamed on the west. The hills and mountains of the Gaunt Peaks loomed from the east. There was nothing but plains and some trees for miles. The road was made out of old stones, an improvement to the dirt roads inland. Twenty [Riders] escorted the five wagons of Gildin Trading.Cultrost peeked out from the wagon, standing.

"Hét, Cultrost, you should rest." Numisley scolded. He was sitting beside Palden, using his Feats to make the trip faster.

"I got [Ignore Pain] yesterday! And I completed my Arc...I think. Whatever that means." Cultrost swayed his broken tender hand like it was nothing. Palden gagged at the sight of his swollen forearm moving.

"Stop that! You're going to give the [Healer] a hard time!" Numisley scolded. "That means you can get Rare Feats. According to that book."

"I got two. How many do you have?" Cultrost asked.

"Nothing. Just regular Feats." Numisley answered.

"I win." Cultrost smiled smugly.

"It's not a contest… "

Hours later, while they jokingly argued along the way, they saw the city of Tucken, surrounded by marshland. Once the caravan passed through the fields of maize, they were in the districts outside of Tucken's walls that were heavily patrolled by [Mercenaries]. They stopped by in the market district of the local Merchant's Guild and got a permit to temporarily buy and sell products there for a week and a half.

Palden was left to manage the newly acquired stall that they bought to generate profit as they sold their remaining inventory and bought new ones in bulk. This will be a cover for Numisley's actual business.

Numisley, Cultrost, Graten, and Palden: the "leaders" of their small company, were sitting in the large inn: an inn named "The Sitting Wagon". The inn mainly caters to the [Merchants] and [Traders] that come and go in the market district of Tucakee. They ate grilled swamp octopus meat with a side of polenta: the local fare in the city-state.

"We got a manpower problem," Palden stated.

"What do you mean?" Numisley asked.

"It's more like an organizational problem. Most of our thirty-five men and women are [Mercenaries]. That's all well and good…but they aren't as effective as they should be because they don't have a [Trader]-Role or anything that would help in the business. Many are [Laborers], but…you get my point. I'm the only one aside from you two that were the original members of Gildin Trading and me, [Quartermaster], and Graten are managing the folk. We need more leaders and crafters, not just [Mercenaries] and [Captains]."

"Thank you for making me aware of the issue," Numisley replied.

"Didn't you have a list of the Severed Swords?" Cultrost reminded.

"Good idea," Numisley remembered that he did a tally of Graten's men and women with their Feats and Roles. "Call Umbert, Beqaye, Arimith, Kortson, Malia, and Tarast. Ask Atasaney if he has some members who have crafter-Roles... "

Later, a Dwarf entered Numisley's room. Numisley sat on the bed in front of the table.

"Umbert, right?" Numisley asked the middle-aged Dwarf. "You were an [Cobbler] if my memory serves right."

"Yeah. So? What do you want?" The middle-aged Dwarf raised his eyebrow.

"Do you want to be an [Cobbler] again?"

"Hmm…" The Dwarf scratched his stubble. "Beats [Mercenary] work. Much safer. I'm not out of practice, since I fix everyone's shoes. Kortson also maintains horseshoes for our Satyr members."

"Tell me about your [Cobbler] occupation in the past." Numisley requested.

"I worked in the Dwarven village of Tuntow as a [Apprentice] under a [Shoemaker]. Good sort, women especially love his moccasins, and anything he makes can even break a wild nail on the ground if someone steps on it."

"Dwarven village? Forgive me, but I thought Dwarves were very few in this land. Never seen more than three or four Dwarves back home in Renimburg."

"Nahè. We live in the very west of these lands. As many as Satyrs in Human cities. Mostly where the dwarven Drizgil's Dragonguard is, one of the Five. I stopped being a [Cobbler] when [Mercenaries] destroyed our village, and the rest is history."

"I see… I need you…not just you, but anyone in the Severed Swords who has a Role that can be useful for our business. Non-combat Roles that can create products or help them sell. I'll assign you to create shoes and clothing. So, are you up to the challenge?"

"Challenge, eh? I'll take your challenge. Should be piss-easy."

"I'll spend gold to get you what you need. I'll give you something to help you too. If it works."

-

"You called?" A Human man scratched his thinning hair as he entered Numisley's room.

"Tarast, right?" Numisley looked up from his book. "You're an actual [Recruiter]?"

"Yeah. With the Role. Erm, I was a [Crier], then I joined the Severed Swords, and my [Crier] and [Sergeant] Roles combined into [Recruiter], so yeah."

"What Feats of yours would be useful for selling stuff, even if you're not a [Trader]?"

"Ah, that's private information…but if I could be paid more-"

"I'll pay you more than you were as a [Mercenary]-I mean that you will be paid twice, both being a [Mercenary] and being my [Shopkeeper]." Numisley informed, reading an entry from the brown book.

"Ah? Oh yeah…I got [Noticable Presence], [Loud Voice], and [Convincing Words]. That's good enough, right?"

"Yeah. That's good enough for acting as a [Shopkeeper]. You're going to work in the afternoon. Someone without the Feats can take the morning shift."

"Alright. I'm up for it."

Numisley had interviewed three more people, and he convinced them to the best of his ability, treating them more as friends than as employees, giving them the knowledge to acquire some Feats faster. Graten had asked around Atasaney's group, and they only found three people among them that qualified for Numisley's requirements. Gildin Trading now has a [Cobbler], [Weaver], [Carpenter], [Farrier], [Tanner], an acting-[Shopkeeper], as well a [Haggler], [Apprentice Smith], and a [Sharpener].

Most of their Roles were from their old professions, with only a few using their past skills in their mercenary work. Now, all he needed to do was to challenge them by giving them a quota so that they could hopefully gain a Rare Feat or two. Numisley also saw some potential in some Severed Swords' members like Weriens: a Dullahan [Butcher] and [Cook], which has Feats that work well in combat, and Henda, a former [Miner], which can be beneficial for his company would involve themselves in mining if she would become a [Mining Leader]. If he did it right, even Iquewar, one of the [Mercenaries] under Severed Swords, can make his [Hauler] Role into something more.

He spent the day with Cultrost, placing orders in the local Merchant's Guild for wood, cloth, nails, and many other tools and materials to be bought in bulk. They could now start selling products aside from grain and beer. It cost Numisley around fifteen gold coins in total. He was thankful that he didn't need to borrow money in the first place because he had excess gold in store. Paper and parchment, as well as quills, are his other priority so that he could write reports and balance sheets. This was enough to make a profit, at least for a week and a half. Their priority was to escape to Yhril while making money along the way. He hoped they could afford to board a ship in less than a month, which is expensive. He also needs to go to an enchantery to decipher the other bound spells in Palvt's quarterstaff, using it in place of a walking stick since he lost his cane back then.

But first, he needed to hire the largest gang in the city, as he first intended.

[Rare Feat- Eye for Potential.]