"Two silver coins," the merchant said. He was a mouse of a man, small with a pinched face. He wore a long, seamless garb with flower designs and a strip of brown cloth wrapped around his head. It wasn't a turban, not quite, but it was close enough.

"Two silver is a steep price for a map," Aiden muttered to himself.

His voice must have been loud enough because the merchant added, "Everything in Trackback is expensive. Dangerous place sells expensive things."

Either he had spoken too loudly, or the man had really high perception. Aiden was willing to bet that it was the latter.

"I sell you good map," the man pressed, rubbing his hands together. "System-sanctioned. It will be good for the catacombs."

Aiden cocked a brow. "The catacombs?"

"Yes." The man nodded enthusiastically. "The catacombs. This map will help spot other raiders and adventurers and mercenaries. Tourists, too."

He held up the rolled-up parchment that was the map and slapped it with the back of his hand. Dust shook off the thing. He pretended not to see it.

"Trackback is famous for the crystal. All who come here know that," he continued, a curious squint in one eye.

Aiden knew the squint. The man was gauging him. If he asked what the crystal was, then he was easy pickings—a noble who didn't know enough. It meant that he would be easy to scam.

"You know this crystal, do you not?" the man pressed.

Aiden returned his look with disinterest. "I'm more interested in the catacomb you just mentioned. Tell me about it, or give me a better price for the map I asked for and stop wasting my time."

The merchant was quick to raise a finger in an attempt to hold his attention. It was a gnarly thing. Twisted from some kind of illness.

Disease or skill? Aiden wondered.

It was safe if it was the latter. An affliction skill capable of rendering the man's finger so mangy must have come from a significantly powerful opponent. If it was a disease, then Aiden would need to look into when and where the man had gotten it.

The last thing he wanted was a mana illness spreading through the group here in Trackback. They weren't always life-threatening, but sometimes they were. And he knew better than to allow Zen, Fjord, or Feira to contract one of them at their low levels.

As he wondered at how best to manipulate the conversation to the subject of the finger, the man's gaze went from his eyes to the raised finger.

"Catacomb mishap," he said nonchalantly. "Ran into undead. Fun experience. Reckless of me."

Undead in catacombs, Aiden noted, not that it truly mattered. He wasn't heading there, after all.

"So," he folded his arms over his chest. "What's this catacomb about?"

"That's easy," the merchant said. "I'll sell you the map in due time. Since the crystal is currently unavailable, many a person find their way into the catacombs. The undead and other monsters help with level boosts. I knew a guard who went in with his master and came out fifteen levels higher in two weeks."

Fifteen levels in two weeks was a very good deal. So good that he wouldn't mind sending Fjord in there… if it was true.

But Aiden knew that it wasn't. Not without a big enough risk to ensure that only one in ten people survived the experience. Even the Order didn't have a relatively normal way of speeding up level growth. Skill mastery, however, was a different thing.

"Is that all?" Aiden asked when the man remained silent.

The man pursed his lips in confusion. His sale was a bust. He knew it. Aiden's lack of interest meant that he had wasted their time talking about the unimportant.

"You are not interested in growing your level?" he asked, trying to keep his confusion out of his voice.

Aiden shook his head. "I'm here for the Crystal Cave, that's why I asked for the map to the Crystal Cave."

"But… there's no crystal."

"That's why I'm going there," Aiden explained. "It's a sightseeing experience. No crystal reduces the dangers, from the information I gathered. I've always wanted to see what the place is like, now that I have some free time, I say, why not?"

The man perked up once more, clearly seeing another path for a marketing strategy.

"Then you will need a guide," he pitched. "And guards. The Crystal Cave is as much cave as it is maze. Without a guide you'll get lost. And no crystal does not mean that there is no monster. You will need guards for that."

Aiden sighed. "Isn't that what the map is for?"

"Map is good." The man shook the rolled-up parchment. "But a guide is better. You do not want to go missing now, do you?"

Aiden tapped a finger against the crook of his elbow. It gave a proper illusion of thought. Haggling, after all, was not done with just words. You haggled with every tool you had. It was, ultimately, a form of deceit.

"I see," he muttered in the end. "Then I will be needing guards as well."

"I have just the perfect group." The merchant dropped his map on the table, along with a slew of other rolled-up parchments arranged properly in an ascending pyramid, one atop another.

He turned, diving into the stash at his back, leaving his wares completely unattended. A foolish thief with no knowledge of Trackback would likely try to steal a thing or two. Aiden's eyes moved to the other simple stalls around, to small merchants selling rugs and vials and potions and elixirs.

Low level or not, every merchant in Trackback was an adventurer or mercenary in some way. At the least, they were not new to violence and conflict. And they had sharp eyes. The small hub was one of the tightest knit Aiden had seen.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

The merchant of the stall he was in continued to rummage about in a chest large enough to hold two full grown men. He picked out a parchment, muttering to himself.

"Nope," he muttered, returning it in favor of further rummaging. "I'm sure it was here somewhere."

Trackback was something of a desert city. It reminded Aiden of the Arabian areas in old movies where they rode camels and wrapped their heads and faces to keep the sand away. There were buildings made of brick and sand-colored stones, but the merchant district was more tents and clothes draped over the sand with wares displayed upon them.

Sellers sat on the floor behind their wares or, like in the case of this merchant, used stools behind raised tables that displayed their wares.

Aiden stood for almost a minute before the merchant announced his success.

"Fulta be drunk!" He turned, parchments in hand.

Placing each parchment gently atop the pyramid stack of parchments already on display on the table in front of him, he picked one carefully—as if he had not just been rummaging for them recklessly—and unfurled it.

"The Blighted Left!" he declared with a flourish. Anyone would've thought he was about to talk about the children of a king. "Amazing group. The leader is the second son of the Tenu nomadic tribe. You know the second children are the only ones that inherit nothing."

I guess it is the child of a king.

"I did not know that," Aiden answered.

He knew.

"Well, this kid came as a child," the merchant continued quickly. "Raised his status here in Trackback. Has even been on more than three crystal runs with more than two royal armies. Him being alive is testament to his skill, huh?"

Aiden shrugged.

The merchant spread the parchment out, holding it up for Aiden to see the perfectly drawn faces of eight different people.

"They boast guards and porters and healers." The merchant wiggled his brows in enthusiasm. "A perfect crew. And here's the kicker. They have a guide with the actual [Guide] class. You can't do better than that."

Aiden already had someone with the [Guide] class, not that he was going to be taking her into the cave with him.

"No [Guide]s," he said, waving the parchment away. "I want a regular scout, cheap and simple. You don't get to drive prices up with fancy classes."

The man deflated slightly but did not lose his steam.

"Alright, then." He released one end of the parchment, and it rolled back up on its own. He placed it aside and unfurled another parchment. "Left Eye of the King. Simple crew. Good at what they do."

He held it open, up against his chest so that Aiden could see the faces. This crew had only four faces to show. Unlike the previous crew with three women, this one only had one.

Like the last crew, Aiden didn't recognize any faces. He wasn't surprised. He'd been to Trackback only once in his past life, and that had been before he'd gained any real position in the Order. He'd only been here to pass a message on to one of its operatives.

"Are they registered mercenaries?" he asked.

The merchant nodded, then held up a finger. "And no one with the [Guide] class."

Aiden nodded. With him, Valdan, and Ted, there were four in the team. He needed at least three more people for the trip. Like Zen and Feira, Fjord was too weak to go in with them. He needed people who were strong enough that he didn't need to constantly look out for them.

He worked his lips as he gave it a thought. With one hand, he pinched his lower lip and dragged.

"What's their max level?"

"That's the [Bully]," the merchant said. "Bushy beard and bald head, dude. Level eighty-nine."

Aiden frowned at that. He needed people within Ted and Valdan's level range. They would inevitably be trying to kill each other in the end. While he was going to explain the non-lethal part of the mission when the time came, he very much doubted that they would stick to it once the fighting began and everybody around them looked like monsters with classes and skills.

He needed people that Ted and Valdan would be able to survive against while holding back, even while they were trying to kill them.

"Get me a crew with no more than five members and a max level of seventy-five," he said. "And maybe, just maybe, we'll have ourselves a deal."

The merchant's face turned a confused look. "You want weaker? Weaker doesn't always mean cheaper. In places like the catacombs and the crystal cave, even with no crystal, stronger is always better."

"Max level, seventy-five," Aiden repeated simply.

He could get weaker, but that would just be sending innocent mercenaries to their deaths. When the fighting began and they were faced with level seventy-two monsters, they would simply lose their lives in the fray.

Aiden wasn't in the business of killing people who didn't deserve to die.

The merchant released the parchment, and it rolled itself back up. "Bah!" He turned and started going through the large chest once more. "Your funeral."

…

The merchant district had taken up much of Aiden's time. The mouse of a merchant had haggled like his life depended on the sale of one map and the acquisition of one crew. In the end, Aiden had purchased the map for less than two silver coins but more than one silver coin.

He wasn't pleased with the result of his haggling.

As for the mercenary crew, he wasn't to see them until tomorrow. His stipulations had been simple when he had accepted the crew. They were to present proof that they were registered mercenaries of Trackback. Being the kind of city that Trackback was, lawless as it was, any modicum of order such as merchants, mercenaries, and adventurers… even simple bodyguards, were registered with proof.

The mercenaries would bring their proof and display their level and classes in real time during the meeting.

When you worked these kinds of jobs that involved being a bodyguard or part of a third-party team, presenting your level and class was not a tall ask. In fact, it was a necessity.

After dealing with the merchant, Aiden had moved through the market, picking out items he felt were necessary. There were a few of them, and he ended up spending a lot of money. In the end, he returned to the inn where he was to meet the others at.

It was a tall building with three floors. Its exterior, like most of the buildings in Trackback, was the color of sand.

It wasn't long before he was standing in front of the room they had rented for Zen and his sister. He knocked once, then twice, then once, then thrice. Then he waited.

He had come up with the knocking code before they had booked their rooms. In Trackback, even something as simple as opening the door for the wrong person could get you killed. So, they had knocking sequences for when they were safe and when they were being coerced.

The latch caught behind the door and there was a pause before it opened. Aiden assumed it was the lock enchantment he had engraved into the door.

Fiera opened the door. "Lord Lacheart."

Aiden returned her greeting with a nod as he entered the room. "Feira."

It was a simple room. A boring ottoman was situated next to the only window in the room. There were two seats without backrests, complete with armrests and a bed big enough to hold four people.

Aiden moved to one of the seats and sat down. He looked around.

"Is Zen taking a bath?" he asked, tilting his head to the only other door in the room which was right beside the head of the bed.

Feira nodded. She pulled the second seat and placed it opposite Aiden, soliciting furrowed brows.

"Am I safe?" he asked.

"I have a favor," she said, sitting down.

Aiden bit down on his lower lip slightly. "I'm not one for favors."

"You're already on the path to it," she said. "I'm just making sure you follow through."

Not sure what to expect, Aiden motivated her to continue. "I'm listening."

"You're going to teach my brother how to fight, right?"

"That is correct. But you will be learning, too."

Feira paused, surprised. "Why?"

"You don't want to learn to fight?"

"I do," she stuttered. "It's just… nobody ever agreed to teach me back home. The men were always on about how beautiful hands should not know violence and how my class is designed for the gentler things."

Aiden laughed. "I've seen [Guide]s kill better than [Soldier]s. Your class is not for the gentler things. And all hands should know violence, even if they don't seek it out."

"So, you knew," Feira said in resignation. "I assumed you did, but I wasn't sure. And you didn't ask me, so I didn't think you cared."

"I looked into your brother. It would've been stupid not to look into you. So, what's the favor?"

"Zen said that he didn't want to fight people," Feira said.

Aiden nodded. "I remember."

"But I want you to teach him how to fight not just monsters, but people too."

Aiden paused. "Oh. Is that it?"

"No," Feira shook her head. "I want you to teach him how to kill them."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.