White City is the crystallization of Reskina Clan's influence, and it contains many sights which would make a person gasp in awe. One of them makes just about every visitor to the White City exclaims in wonder. That is — the fact that just about every street is paved with brick or stones.

Other place in the federation that has is Olga City. Of course, not every city in the federation is this way. Even so, it is a subtle yet potent testament to the federation’s strength and power, one which have impressed the ambassadors of the surrounding countries.

Of particular note is the Central Avenue. It is a major thoroughfare of the White City, and much like other public streets, the center is for horses and carriages, while the sides are for human traffic.

The difference is that there are safety fences set up along the dividing lines between the parts for people and the parts for horses and carriages, in order to ensure the safety of pedestrians. Street lights made of crystal sprout on either side of the road, and they glow with immensely bright light after nightfall. Speaking of which, many knights are on patrol, mindful of the safety of their surroundings.

A smiling man is strolling casually along this road, the safest in the White City, humming as he goes.

His hair is strikingly red and his eyes are brown, while his skin had a healthy tan. His good looking look is uncommon even in the whole federation. His height is over 180cm and in his late twenties.

He radiates a subtle charisma. The source of that charisma seems to come from the faint, yet lively smile on his face, as well as his confident and open gestures.

With every step he takes, the sound of chain links clinking rang forth from beneath his spotless, high-grade clothing. A sharp individual would be able to tell that it is the sound of a chain shirt.

He has a blade on either hip, neither a longsword nor a short sword,as these are obviously custom made. They have round, fully enclosed knuckleguards, and while their sheaths are exquisite in make, they are clearly not cheap stuff. Behind his waist is a bow, arrows and a mail-piercer for piercing attacks. Weapons in his disposal shows that he is a versatile fighter.

Carrying one or even two weapons is a perfectly reasonable thing in this world. But very few people would carry all the weapons needed to execute shooting, piercing and slashing attack methods.

Anyone knowledgeable would recognize him for a soldier. Anyone who is truly knowledgeable would notice that he lack the military crest which soldiers wear around their necks, and would thus conclude that he is a “mercenary”.

Mercenaries. They are those who have deviated from the path of the standard soldiers.

Soldiers work for noble families or are directly employed by central  kingdom. Soldiers protect the country and people. In other words, soldiers are sort of like allies of justice.

However, such high-sounding ideals are not the only thing which make the world go around.

It is quite easy to imagine that some people are willing to do dangerous thing for the people and country. And then there are those people who simply enjoy fighting for money.

These people — who does not seek the light of the soldier’s life, but who thirst for the darkness — are dropouts from the profession. They are known as mercenaries, and people speak that name with mockery and caution.

However, one could not say that all mercenaries  are cut from the same cloth. 

For instance — if there is a heavily-wounded boy in a village of another country and a soldier who happens to be passing by, help the boy, would the soldier be in the right or wrong?

The answer is that he would be wrong.

Kingdom rules state that a soldier is prohibited from helping citizen of different countries. If  one could not accept these rules, then one would have to be a mercenary. There are two sides to every coin, and mercenaries are no exception.

This man — Simon Reskina — is a mercenary and he is smiling. 

"What should I buy?”

There are countless items that he wants, but in the end his top priority is defensive gear. Then, there is one more thing. It is an unrelated matter, but there is something else that he wants.

He passes through the densely-packed temple district and looks into the distance and see a unique-looking building ahead. At the same time, the wind carries the sound of cheering to him — he could hear bloodthirsty voices and battlecries in the air.

That unique building is the grand arena that could only be found in the White City of the federation. It is a very popular tourist spot within the White City.

There was no need for him to go all the way there. He saw more than enough blood in the course of his work, and he had no interest in gambling, so one could say that that place did not interest him at all. However, it is still the biggest entertainment outlet for the common man in the White City — the nobles prefer the theater though. Given the cheers have reached all the way here, the arena must have been packed to the brim once more.

Simon shrugs.

He has no interest in this. He does feel like looking at a blood-soaked battlefield on a day off work. However, he does not fully chase the notion out of his mind, because the various events within the arena might make for excellent conversation topics.

He continues walking along a road lined with shops. Soon, he see a familiar signboard with the words “Snow Pavilion” written on it.

 It looks old, but the interior is surprisingly sturdy and clean. There are no gaps in the walls to let the wind in, and the floorboards are brightly polished. Naturally, staying here is not cheap, but it is not completely unaffordable either. To Simon and his crew; no, to all mercenaries, this is arguably the highest-grade inn around.

In  addition, the fact that many other mercenaries teams used this place as a home base made the Snow Pavilion popular with the requesters. That is because unlike with the Knight order, someone looking to hire mercenaries have to find them with their own connections. Therefore, having the mercenaries scattered all over the place is very troublesome for the requesters.

Another reason for the mercenaries to stay at this inn is because staying in the same place fostered a sense of closeness with each other, which would reduce the chances of requests where they might have to fight each other. Finally — and most importantly — the food here is delicious.

As he enters, the first thing which greets him is not his friends saying, “oh, you’re back” or “thanks for your hard work.”

“—I told you already! I don’t know!”

“No, no, if you say that, it’ll put me in quite a fix…”

“I’m not that girl’s keeper and I’m not her relative, how would I know where she went?”

“Aren’t you companions? I can’t just walk away meekly because you say you don’t know. This is my job!”

A man and a woman are glaring at each other in the middle of the bar cum dining room’s first floor.

The woman’s face is very familiar to him. Her face lacks the slightest trace of fat and her hair is blond, neatly arranged in a braid. Despite the moderate size breasts, her bosom and buttocks have a woman’s fullness. 

She wears a tight-fitting suit of leather armor that her body alluring. The only weapon she has was the rapier at her waist.

Her name is Sylvia Virginia. She is one of Simon Reskina’s companions.

The man who is arguing with her is unknown stranger. 

"You’re being noisy. This is an inn. There are other guests around. Do you really want to make a ruckus here?”

Simon stares at the man’s face. The other man could not hold up against the glare of a warrior. He immediately cowers as though he are facing a monster. Simon jerks his chin at the door, and his attitude left the other man staring dumbly.

The man runs for the door. He tries his best to pretend otherwise, but it is clear to everyone that he has been scared off. 

"So, what is that all about?” Simon sighs.

"No clue. He is looking for Sera."

The two of them smile bitterly at each other.

Sera is a female member of the mercenaries. There is another female member, Sharon who will not come today. The only other male member is Dick.

Then the sound of wood scraping rang through the tavern. The forms of two people step in through the opens door.

“—Back.”

“We’ve returned.”

The first voice belonged to a girl and sounds like a whisper. A beat later, it is followed by an elegant, proper male voice. In all likelihood, he has wanted to avoid drowning out the girl’s quiet words.

The first person to enter is a skinny woman, someone who could still be called a girl.

She looks to be in her late teens. Her lustrous hair is neatly trimmed at her shoulder, while her eyes and nose are perfectly positioned. She is not so much beautiful as elegant. However, she has an inorganic, doll-like quality about her. She is Sera.

The man wears a suit of full plate armor — albeit without a full-faced helm — and over it is a surcoat stitched with a holy symbol. He has a morningstar at his waist, and a holy symbol which matched his tabard hung at his neck.

His facial features are rough, and his hair is parted. His tiny moustache is neatly trimmed and he gives others the impression of being relaxed. He lookes to be around 30 years old. He is Dick.

"Really now. Then, mm… then we’ll begin this meeting."

Everyone’s original expressions are gone now. They lean slightly in, bringing their faces close to their colleagues. They could not help it even though there is nobody else around; one could say it is a professional habit.

“Let’s verify the details of the request.”