Chapter 4

“An uninvited guest? Me?”

The man burst into cackling laughter.

It was an unpleasant sound that scraped against the ears.

“How absurd. You’re the one who ruined the very field where I personally planted my seeds.”

Oh, is that so?

Only then did Ian’s expression relax.

“That must be disappointing for you, black mage.”

“You’re not even surprised. Ah, I see. So you’re the one who hid my seed!”

He was obviously referring to the corrupted essence.

It also functioned as the black mage’s terminal.

The connection must have been cut off when Ian stored it in subspace, so the mage had hurriedly taken action.

Well, he was probably upset about the mana he invested into it.

Ian smiled.

“Yeah. I’ll make good use of it.”

“You insolent brat.”

Crack. Crunch!

The man’s body began mutating again.

Twisting and swelling grotesquely.

Craaack!

The sword Ian had been holding shattered in half inside the creature’s grip.

Ian clicked his tongue unconsciously.

It was finally a decent sword too.

“I’ll make sure you understand exactly who you dared to mock with that tongue. I am—”

Boom!

The speaking face was engulfed in an explosion.

It was the fireball Ian had thrown.

And it wasn’t just one.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ian hurled fist-sized fireballs one after another.

The fiery barrage didn’t stop until the creature dropped to its knees.

Thud. Fwoosh!

Before the mutation could even finish, the thing finally collapsed to the ground.

Even reduced to a charred lump, purple mana still burned within its hollow eye sockets.

Filled with hatred.

“You bastard! So you’re one of the Red Cloaks! Fine then! I’ll find you again without fail! Don’t forget! The one who will torment your pathetic soul for eternity is none other than—!”

Crunch!

The broken sword slammed down onto the charcoal-black neck.

The severed head rolled away, its jaw clacking emptily.

“Necro… mancer…”

As the fading voice disappeared, the glow in its eyes went dark.

“You sure talk too much.”

When both sides were trying to kill each other, there was no need for introductions.

Clicking his tongue, Ian approached the twitching body.

He crouched down and raised his sword.

Crunch! Crunch!

The blade violently tore through the burnt flesh.

Soon, Ian shoved his hand deep into the opened corpse.

A black orb came out clutched in his hand.

It was a smaller essence than the chief’s.

Sinister purple mana swirled inside it.

“So there was more than one… Though, I guess that makes sense.”

Thinking back, the game had several chiefs serving under the Great Chieftain.

It wouldn’t be strange if those had all been preparations made by that black mage who never revealed his name.

“Th-That is?! Hiiik!”

A terrified scream burst out right afterward.

It came from the village youths who had been watching from far away.

“Hiiik! Aaaah!”

One terrified villager rolled across the ground screaming and hurriedly pulled down his pants.

“…?”

Even Ian looked bewildered by the sudden ridiculous scene.

“M-My lord! I’ve committed a sin worthy of death!”

With his bare backside exposed, the man threw himself flat onto the ground.

“Simply pulling it out and waving it around is already a capital offense. Speak clearly.”

Ian frowned as he spoke.

The trembling man pointed shakily at the pants he had taken off.

“In… in my pocket. There’s another orb exactly like that one.”

“……”

Ian’s brows sank.

Walking over to the discarded pants, he sliced open the pocket with his sword.

Among all the junk, another essence rolled out.

“By Lu Sola, I swear I didn’t know! I just thought it was a strange bead, and I wanted to bring it to my little sister—!”

“Shut up before I really kill you.”

As Ian picked up the essence and spoke coldly, the man’s mouth snapped shut instantly.

Rolling the essence between his fingers, Ian looked over at the youths.

“Anyone else want to confess?”

“…N-No.”

“There’s really nobody else, my lord.”

The youths all shook their heads together.

“No matter how stupid they are, people won’t lie when their lives are on the line. And if they do, I’ll personally crack their skulls open for you.”

The tavern owner walked forward while casually adding that.

He wore the chief’s armor loosely over himself, with the axe resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Make sure you do.”

Ian shrugged.

Nodding, the innkeeper looked down at the man lying flat on the ground.

“Quit bawling and cover that filthy ass. Go collect Johnson’s corpse yourself.”

He kicked the man’s bare backside before turning back toward Ian.

“By the way, you’re a Red Mage? Since you carry a sword around, I naturally thought you were a swordsman.”

“Would that change anything?”

Ian asked while storing away the essence.

People of the Dark Ages had a contradictory tendency to fear mages while also looking down on them.

Honestly, it was easier being mistaken for a swordsman or fallen knight.

“No. I’ll just think of the sharp steel thing you carry around as a magic wand.”

“Don’t change that mindset. And once we get back, negotiate with those idiots.”

Turning away, Ian waved the broken sword.

“My steel magic wand broke again because those bastards broke our agreement. They’ll have to make me a new one.”

The innkeeper smiled as though admitting defeat.

Then he added toward Ian’s back,

“But are you really okay? Seems like you’ve earned a black mage’s hatred pretty thoroughly.”

“Not your concern.”

Ian replied without even turning around.

“Just keep the promise you made to me.”

The tavern owner kept his promise well.

Starting the very next day after they returned to the village, he began bringing Ian requests.

Of course, before that, he also remembered to bring him a new sword and armor.

The sword was ordinary, but the armor had been made from the kobold chief’s hide.

That had been the innkeeper’s idea.

Ian accepted it because he thought it would be better than going around half-naked, but it turned out to be equipment with visible status information.

Meaning it was an item that existed in the game.

It was only high-grade equipment, but for now, it was more than useful enough.

“Looks pretty convincing. Nobody would think you’re a mage.”

The tavern owner laughed as he said it.

“You should watch your mouth.”

“Don’t worry. Since you seem to dislike people knowing you’re a mage, I already warned those idiots thoroughly.”

“As if they’d keep a promise like that.”

“They will. They’re terrified of you now. They’re probably trembling even now, thinking you’re secretly watching them from somewhere.”

As if proving his words, not a single client called Ian a mage.

Though they did embarrassingly call him things like Hero, Knight, or Savior of the Village.

Either way, the idea of using the tavern owner as a recruiter had been a success.

Clients constantly came to the tavern where Ian stayed.

Some requests were as small as killing wild boars that ruined fields every night.

Others were as large as dealing with a water ghost crawling out from the village well.

There were so many requests that it was hard to believe this was such a tiny village.

Of course, most were trivial jobs that didn’t even trigger a quest window.

Still, Ian handled them without rejecting them.

And never failed once.

“Hoo.”

After washing his face, Ian dried himself with a clean towel.

Even while doing so, his eyes swept across every corner of the spacious room.

It was a habit now, checking whether anything had changed overnight.

Of course, nothing had.

“Hm.”

Suddenly, he realized the room’s scenery had become very familiar.

Thinking about it, that was natural.

He had already lived here for nearly a month.

During that time, the best room in the tavern had become his.

A sunny room with the largest and cleanest bed.

Though in Ian’s eyes, it was still worse than a cheap motel.

“…Later on, I’ll probably think these were the good days.”

Muttering quietly, Ian left the room.

“You’re awake, Mr. Fixer?”

As Ian came downstairs, the waitress cleaning the hall brightened up.

“Fixer” was one of the newer nicknames given to Ian, and one of the less annoying ones.

“Yeah. Prepare breakfast.”

“Okay. Please wait a moment. I’ll make meat and eggs, your favorites.”

The waitress set down her rag.

She was one of the few people in the village who didn’t fear Ian.

In fact, she acted so casually around him that it was bothersome.

Sitting down, Ian added,

“The innkeeper’s going to scold you again.”

“So what? He’s making plenty of money thanks to you. He should understand.”

The waitress snorted.

That was one reason Ian could stay comfortably at this tavern.

The innkeeper charged clients referral fees in exchange for arranging jobs.

Since he only took modest amounts honestly, Ian didn’t bother stopping him.

Especially since he worked so hard finding requests.

“Then bring me a beer too.”

Ian added casually.

“Yes, sir,” the waitress replied before heading into the kitchen.

Left alone, Ian tapped the table lightly with his finger and muttered,

“Seems like… it’s almost time.”

The number of requests was dropping sharply.

Which meant the time to leave the village was approaching.

Then it would be back to sleeping outdoors and constant traveling until reaching the next village.

He didn’t like it, but it couldn’t be helped.

Getting used to peaceful daily life was the same as slowly committing suicide.

Thinking about it, he hadn’t killed anything in nearly a week.

The only bloodshed lately was cutting off the wrist of someone who tried to cheat him out of payment, and chopping off one finger from a man harassing the waitress.

“Once I finish checking everything…”

A plate suddenly landed in front of him.

Eggs, mashed potatoes, and grilled meat.

A bit excessive for breakfast, but Ian immediately picked up his knife and fork.

After all, food of this quality was rare in this world.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”

The waitress sat across from him while placing down a mug full of beer.

“Thoughts you don’t need to know about.”

The waitress puffed out her lips at Ian’s response.

After taking a drink, Ian asked,

“When did the innkeeper leave?”

“About an hour ago. He’s probably out bothering people asking if they have work for you.”

The waitress clicked her tongue.

“He’s gotten too into it himself. Yesterday he was even muttering about how nice it would be if leftover kobolds appeared again.”

“I see.”

Ian nodded while chewing meat.

If the innkeeper was saying things like that, then there really wasn’t much work left anymore.

“But still, the village has never been this peaceful before. It feels wonderful.”

Resting her chin on both hands, the waitress looked at Ian.

“It’s all thanks to you, Mr. Fixer.”

“It’ll only last temporarily.”

Ian answered indifferently.

“Problems will return soon enough.”

“You sound… very certain.”

“Because it’s obvious.”

The Dark Ages.

A village with no proper defensive force.

There wasn’t much to think about.

While Ian focused on his meal again, the waitress continued,

“Can I ask one question?”

“No.”

“Why do you try so hard to hide that you’re a mage?”

I said no.

Clicking his tongue, Ian looked at her.

Her bright eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Eventually, he sighed and answered,

“Because it becomes troublesome. Besides, I don’t particularly like spellcasters.”

“Because they’re arrogant, scheming, and selfish like everyone says?”

“Well… close enough.”

Suddenly, Ian remembered the mage he first met in the swamp.

An old man who had at least seemed civilized.

After traveling together and seeing Ian use multiple magic attributes, the old man became curious about his secret.

Ian kindly answered him.

That he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Of course, the old man didn’t give up.

Instead, he tried to uncover the secret himself.

By opening Ian’s skull.

Naturally, the attempt failed.

The old man lost his head instead.

And Ian learned a lesson.

Avoid getting involved with mages whenever possible.

This was one of the ways reality differed completely from the game.

Back then, mage NPCs might reject or distrust people from other schools of magic, but they never tried to dissect someone’s brain.

“Then what do you like, Mr. Fixer?”

The waitress asked again.

Ian suddenly paused.

Countless things flashed through his mind.

Unfortunately, most of them didn’t exist in this world.

Like cola to wash away the greasy taste of this food. Damn it.

Clicking his tongue, Ian answered,

“Treasure. And money.”

“Uh…”

The waitress looked speechless.

Ian lowered his gaze back to the plate.

“Is that really all?”

She asked again, but Ian no longer responded.

He simply kept chewing his food.

By the time Ian had nearly finished the food on his plate—

“…Oh, you’re already awake?”

The tavern owner returned.

After greeting awkwardly, he hesitated while holding the door handle.

Eventually Ian clicked his tongue.

“What is it? Spit it out already.”

The innkeeper scratched his cheek.

“Well… someone came looking for you.”

“A request?”

“Not sure about that, but first—”

Just as the innkeeper was about to continue, the door that had nearly closed opened again.

The one opening it was a friendly-looking young man wearing leather armor.

“Excuse us.”

The young man opened the door wide.

Only then did the person standing behind him become visible.

Someone clad in plate armor.

Proper full-body armor that exposed not a single patch of skin.

The helmet covering the face resembled the beak of an eagle or hawk.

At the end of the sword hilt hanging from the waist was a deer antler-shaped ornament instead of a counterweight.

The symbol of Agel Lan.

Judging from all that, the visitor was an elite knight of the Kingdom of Agel Lan.

Someone who should never have been in a backwater village like this.

But that wasn’t why Ian tilted his head.

‘That armor looks strangely familiar…?’

He was certain he had seen that full-body armor design somewhere before.