“Human? Ugh, what an awkward title…” Glenn cursed inwardly, though a smug smile curved his lips. “I thought elves never apologized. Turns out you do understand the bare minimum of manners after all.”

  Gortaya bristled at that smile but forced herself to stay calm. “Can you tell me how I am supposed to live here, human?”

  Too lazy to correct her address, Glenn pretended to think for a moment before lowering his voice. “Well, I do have a place you could stay, but I cannot just give it to you for free…”

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked sharply, instantly catching the implication.

  Amused by her quick wit, Glenn chuckled. “I have been short-handed lately. If you are willing to help out…”

  I knew it. He is up to no good again. Gortaya took a deep breath. “Tell me what kind of work it is. I will decide after that.”

  Glenn shifted his posture, speaking as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “Relax, it is nothing difficult. Just looking after some pigs.”

  Since Ravel would soon be needed elsewhere, Glenn had been fretting about who could take over his chores. The elf girl’s arrival was simply too convenient.

  “Pigs?” Gortaya frowned.

  “That is right—pigs. Do not overthink it. You do not have anything I would bother scheming for anyway.”

  Her suspicion lingered, but after weighing her options, she nodded. For now, this seemed the best choice available.

  By the time they reached Glenn’s home, daylight had fully broken. Glenn showed little sign of fatigue despite not having slept all night, but Gortaya was clearly struggling to stay upright. She had endured enough torment in that cage to wear down even her spirit, and the lack of rest only worsened it.

  Fortunately, she wasn’t injured—perhaps that explained her earlier boldness in attacking him.

  Glenn opened the door and went to wake Tia, who was still fast asleep. “Up you get. I need your bed for a guest.”

  Tia rubbed her sleepy eyes, her hair tousled and her loose dress slipping from one pale shoulder. Glenn’s gaze lingered a second too long.

  “Mr. Glenn, you are up so early…” she murmured.

  “There is a new member joining us. She has not slept all night—let her rest in your bed for a bit.”

  “Huh?” Tia blinked herself awake. “But…”

  Seeing her reluctance, Glenn sighed. “I will pay you a silver coin.”

  Instantly, the reluctance vanished. She gave a dainty little shrug. “Well, since Mr. Glenn insists, I suppose I cannot refuse.”

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  “That is better.” He nodded, satisfied.

  No one can resist the charm of money—including myself, he mused with a sigh.

  Then Tia suddenly realized something, her face flushing crimson. “Oh heavens! Mr. Glenn! How could you barge into my room without permission?!”

  She yanked the blanket up to cover herself from the neck down.

  Glenn froze, guilt creeping over him. He hadn’t really thought about it—he’d just walked in. Only afterward did he realize how improper that was.

  “I just thought you would not wake otherwise! I am actually quite the gentleman, you know…” he said hastily, backing out of the room.

  From outside, Gortaya’s skeptical gaze followed him, her expression full of doubt about his so-called “gentlemanly” conduct.

  Regaining his composure, Glenn said, “Go on in. Rest for now. I will find you a proper room later.”

  The elf girl took in the cramped space, her expression one of clear disdain. “This house is tiny. And you expect me to live here?”

  Glenn remained unfazed. “As long as it keeps the wind and rain out, what more do you need? A carriage?”

  “A carriage?” she asked blankly.

  “It means stop being picky.”

  Duder.

  The scarred man stretched after waking, his joints cracking like firewood. Then he swung open the door and bellowed, “Up, boys! Time to move!”

  As he stomped down the hall, he pounded on every door he passed.

  When he reached the room of one of the mages, he slammed a fist against it. “Erik! You lazy bastard, it is time to go! Still dreaming of women, are you? Get up!”

  But no sound came from within.

  The scarred man frowned. One by one, the mercenaries emerged bleary-eyed from their rooms—but none of the three mages appeared.

  Unease crept up his spine. He pounded the door again, this time with enough force to shake dust from the walls.

  “Erik! Do not make me come in there! You hear me?!”

  Still nothing. The others, now sensing something was wrong, began banging on the remaining mages’ doors.

  No answer.

  With a snarl, the scarred man kicked Erik’s door clean off its hinges, ignoring the tavern keeper’s horrified expression.

  The sight inside made his pupils contract sharply.

  Erik’s corpse lay sprawled beside the door, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.

  The scarred man knelt, checked for breath, then bellowed, “Go check on the elf—now!”

  Several mercenaries jolted into motion, sprinting toward the courtyard.

  When they arrived, they found guards strewn across the ground and the cage empty.

  The scarred man’s face contorted with fury. He let out a low, guttural roar and drove his fists into the wall, smashing through it in a frenzy.

  Then came another report—worse than the last.

  “Boss… Fang is missing too!”

  The scarred man’s eyes turned blood-red. He seized the messenger by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

  “What?!” With one violent squeeze, the man’s neck snapped like a twig.

  Fang had been one of his strongest fighters. Losing him—and three mages—was a devastating blow.

  He had poured years of effort into building this mercenary group, the Hunter Company, from the ground up. And now… this.

  “Why?! Who are you?! Why are you targeting me!?” he howled at the empty air.

  But the culprit was long gone.

  “Boss, we cannot let this go!” shouted a man with a curved blade slung across his back.

  “Of course we cannot!” roared the scarred man, spittle flying. “Find them! Every last one of you—hunt that bastard down!”

  “Yes, sir!” The swordsman wiped the saliva from his face and barked at a few half-dressed men, “You lot! With me!”

  As the others scattered to obey, the scarred man stood there, his face twisting with dread.

  “How the hell am I supposed to explain this to the employer…” he muttered.

  Before long, the Hunter Company’s disaster had become the talk of the entire town.