The morning light filtered through the broken window, and the early birds destroyed the tranquility of the night. A gentle breeze of the morn brought forth the earthly scent of distant lands, perhaps some already destroyed within a span of a night. There was chatter from downstairs, and I realized most travelers were early risers.

“How are you feeling, Letitia?” I asked, sitting by the bedside as her eyes fluttered open. She yawned, her arms around mine, and snuggled close to me before closing her eyes again.

“I brought some stew for you,” I caressed her disarrayed hair and waited patiently.

It took a while, but she opened her eyes and sat on the bed. Her fever had reduced compared to last night, but she was nowhere near close to riding her mare. 

“Mowning kiss,” she moved closer to me, her hair tickling my cheeks as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I pushed her forehead away.

“Brush your teeth first. I’ll think about it later,” I smiled at her pout. She got up, nevertheless, and returned after freshening up. A soft peck was what I got as I stuffed the breakfast in her hands.

“We’ll be spending another day here,” I said as she busied herself with the food. Her nimble hands held the wooden spoon loosely as she debated whether it should go into her mouth or back to the bowl. A few spoons later, she placed the bowl back into the tray and shook her head.

“Don’t have an appetite,” she said, inching closer. “But I have an appetite for something else.”

“I could get you bread if that’s what you want,” I got up, already moving toward the door.

“Rudolf!” she chuckled and held my hand. “That’s not what I meant. You know, I could, you see, eat…” Her ears turned rosy. “Explaining it is so embarrassing. Why are you so dense?!”

I sighed. “If you expect me to understand your language, Letitia, you overestimate me. I am just one poor undead, ignorant of the ways of the world.”

“Sure, sure,” she rolled her eyes. “I bet women flocked around you back in the day.”

“Women? Not as much as men, but sure, they did,” I grinned. “They wanted my eyes or limbs and, sometimes, even my innards. Well, maybe they wanted to eat me too.”

She opened her mouth to say something but just closed it and stared at me begrudgingly. “It’s so unfair when you try acting so pitiful!”

I laughed and ruffled her hair. “You are the only one who thinks that, Letitia. There’s nothing pitiful about massacring every single mortal sent after you. Over time, it amounts to many, and even I have lost count these days.”

“Painting yourself as the villain again,” she said, flicking my forehead. “Shall we go down for a walk? I don’t want to be cooped up in my room all day long.”

“Your fever will get worse if you don’t rest,” I shook my head.

“Please?” she blinked her eyes coquettishly and stared at me. “Please, please?”

“No,” I shook my head resolutely.

“We are going out,” she clicked her tongue and walked to the door. “No use in trying to act cute to deal with a blockhead.”

I was rendered speechless. Following her came naturally, though, so I walked downstairs to meet up with Garlan alongside her.

My bread lad was fixing up some tables and rearranging them, changing the ambiance from a scattered pile of decaying wood to something resembling an actual inn. Karla was watching him from the counter, her face full of confusion and, perhaps, gratefulness. Not that I understood mortal emotions from their faces, but I surmised that she ought to feel grateful. After all, it was rare for my bread lad to go out of his way to help others.

“And who do we have here?” Garlan grinned as he rubbed Letitia’s head. “Is our lady feeling better?”

“I am not your lady,” Letitia rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the way. “I don’t like it when others touch me, Garlan. I’m serious about cutting your arm.”

Garlan took a step back, his hand hidden behind his back. “So much for all the help you got from me. One ungrateful noble lady you are.”

“Aren’t I already letting you buzz around Rudolf?” she raised her brows. “My kindness has already reached its limits. If you cross it, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

Garlan looked at me and shook his head. 

This is all your fault! 

He voiced the words, and I shrugged with a smile.

The rest of the afternoon passed by peacefully. Garlan’s lunch was scrumptious, but my lady didn’t have much appetite to enjoy the delicacies. After a brief walk outdoors, she was exhausted and slept throughout the evenfall.

I helped Garlan repair the inn because we had nothing better to do. Midway through our little excursion, Karla joined us and voiced her preferences. She also waived off our payment for the night, an action that didn't surprise me much. Not owing favors was the best way to live mortal lives, after all.

The sky darkened amidst our enthused chatter, and the door clicked open when Garlan was busy cooking. I stared in the direction as metal clinked, and chatter resounded as a group of mercenaries strode in, their presence commanding my attention.

Draped in mismatched armor pieces, their attire bore signs of their atrocities and marks of their hardened lives. Their faces wore signs of exhaustion, and two among the six were injured, the rest supporting their useless company. The camaraderie was hard to come by when earning money was your only goal, but it seemed like this bunch was more than just a band of mercenaries.

The man in the lead, a broad-shouldered man with a mane of greying hair and weathered visage, glanced around the inn. He was looking for the innkeeper, perhaps, or just for someone to test his fists, to take out the pent-up anger at whatever losses they had encountered.

He whispered something to the woman beside him, her face riddled with scars innumerable, before walking in my direction. His chainmail rattled as he moved, and the broadsword on his side appeared imposing. His eyes scanned me for a good while before he opened his mouth.

“Mage, are you?”

His voice was hoarse as if he was trying his best to sound amicable. 

I nodded. “You want me to heal your bunch?”

“Innkeeper does it for us. But she's nowhere now, and I don't think,” he pointed at the man with a large gash on his abdomen, “he'll survive that long.”

“And what do I get in return?” I asked, crossing my hands. “There's no free meal in this world.”

His eyes narrowed. “How much do you need?”

“Not money,” I stood up, my head only reaching his chin, and settled down again. I cleared my throat and continued, “We’ll hire you to fight for us.”

“That shouldn't be a problem,” he replied almost immediately. 

“In the war at Coln,” I finished and saw his expression flicker to disbelief.

“You are better off asking us to die,” he said, hands crossed.

“And I am exactly asking you to do that,” I said with a smile. “Either he dies, or you take your chances at death.”

He looked at his company, and everyone nodded except for the unconscious guy. 

“Fine then,” he rubbed his temples and continued, “Heal him, and he should live through the night. Else, the deal is off.”

“He’ll be as good as new in a few seconds,” I pushed the large mortal out of my way and walked toward the band. Mana condensed around the injured man’s abdomen, and the large gash disappeared instantly along with the glowing light, [Heal] doing its wonders. Everyone stared at me in disbelief as I healed the superficial injuries on the other guy. 

“Now then,” I looked at the leader of the mercenaries, “We are on our way to Kalith. Your task is to reach Coln before us and gather some intelligence.”

As much as I hated strategizing, I wasn't ready to risk Letitia’s life.

“Particularly, keep an eye out for a violet-haired girl. If you spot her in the enemy ranks, you patiently wait for my arrival. It doesn't matter if the enemy army is ten times or half our size, you will wait.”

“Sleghogs?” Garlan peered out from the kitchen. “Did you just make a sketchy deal with this bastard?”

The mercenaries looked at the Garlan in confusion. 

My bread lad laughed. “You are better off making a deal with a demon than with my bread lad. He's never up to any good, you see.”

“Don't lump us together with those cretins!” The women snarled. Her eyes almost burned Garlan alive. Figuratively, of course.

I looked at the tall man in confusion. “Don't tell me you guys are some weak passer-bys.”

“Darkl is my name,” his eyes narrowed considerably. “And my band is no weak man’s bunch. We don't pillage villages nor rape women and children like those vermins. Mercenaries, we are but for different reasons. For shins, yes, but for-”

“For shins,” I waved my hand. “You can stop there. There's no reason to justify your cause because we don't give two shins about your moral obligation. Forget about the deal. I don't need some soft-hearted bunch to do my bidding. If you aren't ruthless, then you are better off staying out of our way.”

“A deal is a deal,” Darkl said. “You helped me-”

“Quack quack…” The door to the inn burst open, and a man with a cutlass strode in. “More livelier than ever. Don't you know this inn belongs to us every fortnight?”

More men strode in, and the inn appeared too small to accommodate all these feral men. 

This time, though, the door came apart, and so did the few tables near the entrance, as the men crashed them and dug their cutlasses into them, all the while grinning with their broken teeth, some decaying.

“They are Sleghogs,” Darkl said, and I moved toward the man who was quacking like a duck.

I looked at the man draped in a threadbare tunic from head to toe. He was missing a few teeth, and a scar ran along his head, which was devoid of hair. Eyes glued to the woman behind me, he wiped the drool from his mouth before turning to me.

“The fuck you looking at, thwart?” He spit on my face.

Among the many things you shouldn't do, spitting on undead ranks in the top ten. But I just decided to hold it in for now.

I washed my face with [Splash] and stood before him.

“I have a job for you,” I said with a smile. “Of course, we will pay you handsomely.”

Laughter resounded among the bunch, and I saw a few men step forth and grab their cutlasses. 

“We will get paid either way,” the bald man laughed and pulled me by my collar. “Cough out your measly shins,” he tossed me to his men and turned to everyone in the room, “and give me that lass. The last whore I fucked died before I could chop her head off. This one seems like she'd last a few more clouts.”

“Oh well,” I heard Garlan’s voice. “You better steer clear of the coast,” he said to the other band of mercenaries. “Whenever this happens, it never ends well.”

The door to the kitchen closed, and I sighed.

“I don't like doing this either,” I said, my lips curling upward naturally.