The woman brushed her deep purple hair from her shoulder and looked down at Zig with glowing golden eyes. “Never seen you around before. And you don’t seem like you’re one of them… Tell me, who are you?”
Her sharp gaze made her look much older. Maybe it was a product of living in these slums… Or maybe it was a symptom of it.
“I’m just your everyday mercenary,” Zig answered cautiously, fighting back the urge to sigh at being unarmed in this situation.
The woman widened her eyes and began to laugh.
“Heh… Ha ha ha! A mercenary? In this day and age? If you’re unemployed, you can just say so!” The woman’s laughter echoed in the silent church.
As the woman said, mercenaries were not regarded highly on this continent. Without war, there was little need for soldiers. Or maybe Zig’s homeland was just so war-hungry that there was a constant lack of them.
Without the need for mercenaries, the local fighters changed professions. Some became adventurers, some joined the mafia, and those with a stellar track record—or just well-connected—became regular soldiers. Losers and degenerates who couldn’t make it in any of those professions started calling themselves mercenaries as a form of self-consolation.
Zig was establishing himself as a reliable mercenary in Halian, but such was the state of his job on this continent.
“You look kind of violent. But you really don’t seem like one of them.”
“Who is this ‘them’ you keep talking about?” Zig asked the woman who had her head tilted and arms folded as she sat on the statue.
She opened one of her eyes to cast a sideways glance at him and scoffed.
“The Kararak. They’ve been doing their business here lately. They may look like your average vagrant, but they’re a lot more dangerous. Only the people on the surface get tricked by that act, though. Well, that’s all they need to do. What? You think playing dumb will make me stop suspecting you? That’s kind of insulting.”
The woman squinted, the atmosphere growing heavier.
“I’m guessing you think you can beat a little girl even when unarmed. Sorry, my control over magic is—”
“Are you talking about those three guys in the shack?” Zig cut the woman off. “About a ten-minute walk from here?”
She looked suspiciously at him still, but it seemed like she had a feeling where this was going.
“Yes. What about them?”
So what if he knew about their hideout? She started gathering her mana, implying that it didn’t matter. Getting on one knee, she casually covered her mouth to conceal her incantation.
“I killed them. All of them.”
“What?”
Her incantation dissipated with a gasp.
The big man made his statement in such a matter-of-fact way that the woman did a double take and looked more closely at him.
It was then that she noticed something—the copious amount of blood on his body. The blood blended with the inconspicuous colors of his clothing and was further concealed the latent stench of the slums. The man was painted with it. She could tell that it wasn’t his own when she saw that it reached his boots. If it were his, he wouldn’t be able to converse with her so calmly. There was that much blood.
“I won’t go into details, but they transported me here. I’m pretty sure they hate me.”
The woman was at a loss for words. Zig stretched his shoulders and cracked his neck.
“But if you insist on fighting, I’ll take you up on it. I don’t make a habit of fighting for free, though.”
He slowly raised his arms into a fighting stance—
“—Hold it!”
The woman gave the sign for him to stop.
“It seems clear to me that this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“I don’t mind. I’m used to being misunderstood.”
“You really shouldn’t be! You can’t just go fighting everyone who misunderstands you!”
The woman jumped off the statue. She raised her hands and slowly approached him. Being unarmed was no guarantee that a mage couldn’t hurt you with magic, though.
“Stop right there,” Zig warned. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Sorry. I’m really sorry, so can you please stop looking so mad?”
This was how he always looked, Zig wanted to quip. He dug into his pocket and flicked a coin at the woman.
Realizing what was happening, the woman immediately activated a defensive spell. A dark barrier surrounded her, but the indigo adamantine coin pierced through it and hit her right on the forehead.
“Ow!”
“I’ll hear you out, as long as you hold on to that for me.”
The coin left a red mark, but the woman noticed that it wasn’t meant to be an attack. Rubbing her forehead with tears in her eyes, she picked up the coin.
“That hurt… What is this thing? Indigo adamantine? You sure don’t look like you’d be into this fancy stuff.”
“I’ve had some bad experiences with mages in the past.”
The woman played with the coin with great interest. Her golden eyes locked onto Zig. She didn’t bother hiding the fact that she was sizing him up, examining him from head to toe.
“Hmm… Hmm, yes! I see.”
Those gold eyes looked like they were glowing. Zig thought it made her look like a weird bug.
“Okay! We obviously got off on the wrong foot, so let’s start by introducing ourselves!”
Satisfied, the woman nodded magnanimously. She stuck out her right hand, purple hair flowing and golden eyes shining. Her motion was oddly stiff for requesting a handshake, probably because she wasn’t used to it.
However, her blunder disarmed Zig somewhat, and he answered her.
“Zig. Zig Crane.”
The difference in their size caused his hand to engulf hers. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she shook his hand in return.
“I’m Shania. Just Shania.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2