Chapter Text
But thinking about it now, he would rather have them think he was nearly dead than to have had ‘fun’. He needed a new room, desperately so, he was not sharing one with Hegemonia.
“I know you know that we aren't compatible.” He said bluntly to Lorean.
She smiled and sighed. “Yes I do. I believe that you both would never be in a relationship, or at least in a good and reasonable relationship.”
He didn't confirm, it was obvious. Hegemonia would rather die than date him and he would do the same.
“Hm, I can imagine you two in a sort of toxic relationships—”
“No. I'm never doing that.” He said firmly.
The tavern owner laughed. “Yeah yeah, You don't look like the guy to participate in a relationship like that.” She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small sack of coins.
She counted the cash inside and threw the whole thing to him. “I don't have much, thanks for your service by the way. If you come back tonight, I'll treat you to a drink or two. Oh! And bring her too.” she added at last. Both girls were fairly fond of each other, after all, they both suffered from misogyny.
He caught it and opened it to check the amount inside. It was a decent amount, enough to enjoy days of vacation and have more to spare, but it wasn't enough for the service. Still, he ate and slept for free, and Lorean would probably not be able to scrap anymore without putting her tavern in danger of bankruptcy. So he just accepted it without a word.
After finishing the enchantment on the ice house, he went back to ask the old inn owner for another room. The old man reluctantly allowed it since Nebula didn't request large payments for his services. Another room free of charge was acquired.
After finishing the favor for the day, he went training for a couple of hours, somewhere away from Hegemonia. He was well aware of the difference in strength between them both, although he had magic as a leverage, it isn't convenient as ‘mana’, the tool used for magic was a finite resource and it exhausts too quickly. If he relied too much on purely magic, he had a high chance of losing in regular strength base fighting after his mana depletes. Afterall it was said that; talent without hard work is nothing.
He didn't disagree with that statement but it wasn't completely right either. But it is related to his current situation. Although he has the skills accumulated over the hundreds of hundreds of years as a constellation, it meant nothing if he couldn't muster the strength to use it.
The exp they had accumulated could only be used to upgrade their stats to a certain level before they had to do it physically, the system was more of an information provider than a cheat. But information was a cheat, just that most of the information it provided was considered common knowledge for the people here already. It only fills in the players who are unfamiliar. For example; it spoke of the existence of dragon slayers or devoted saints with immense magical prowess. Although it sounds impressive and secretive to the player, a bit of asking around and they would find out that these were commonly known facts that even confirming personally seemed excessive.
Still, Nebula thought of information as crucial, he was unsure of the difference in time of Avartin and this new world but his speculation suggested that the they haven’t even gone through even two days of sabbatical when he has been in here for what felt like a month, the actual time was approximately roughly 28 and a half days. Well, now 29 days, the sun was lowering on to the horizon line causing a crimson glow on all of the land that witnessed its descent.
His mind contemplated as his blade cut through the air. When he regained sense of time, his mind ceased contemplating just as he lowered his blade.
His eyes lowered to the weapon he held. It was a pretty good one, made by an expert blacksmith with the high-tier resources. He just received it in the morning— free of charge because he helped repair the forge two weeks ago. It was much better than the crudely made daggers Hegemonia snagged from who knows where? He plunged his sword into the ground, it buried its tip into the dirt and stood on its own. Its owner went to gather his stuff and prepared to leave the clearing.
After all, there was a very superstitious belief, to the point of fear against the dark. He should probably look into that, there was a fleeting feeling there was a solid reason behind it.
‘I'll just ask Lorean.’ he thought.
Before he returned to his room, he did drop by Hegemonia's room to pass Lorean’s message, she only grumbled and threw a dagger at his face but he shut the door before it hit him.
He walked to the far end of the corridor, his new room was situated on the right. It was very nice, partially because there was no Hegemonia to worry about even in his sleep. Sitting down on his chair, he opened his innate attribute window and stared at two of his locked skills: [True magic] at max level but locked, and something called [■■■■■’s proxy] that displayed no level meter. He was still finding more information on them, but had no luck in that field.
Hegemonia had some locked skills too. While he possessed [True magic], she had something called [Authored war]. So he deduced that these were related to their unique domains back as a god. But Hegemonia also had a skill with the same censored name as his, [■■■■■’s proxy]. Though they both shared this skill name, Nebula felt that the skills were inherently contradictory.
He noted it down, he didn't have the mindset of a god, nor did he have the quick, precise comprehension of one. As a mortal now, he lacked those luxuries, so it was safe to assume he also didn't have the range in memory either. Noting things like this is probably the safest option, no one—other than Hegemonia perhaps—would understand it, as it was written in earth’s language.
And, most importantly, he needed a proper source of income. But what job was suitable for his needs?
Questions piled up in his mind, but solving them now wasn't possible nor was he going to sit in his sweat thinking about it so he went to clean up.
He took his time to shower and change, wearing his black robe over his shoulder, then he descended the stairs and found the old man peeking out of the inn door meekly.
They exchanged mutual greetings like normal but Nebula noticed the old man's distress.
Outside was populated by loud gruffs and cheers, deep voices of men chatting and laughing. A quick glance out the window revealed the source of the sounds, Mercenaries.
Dark colours, some amour, swords hanging from their waist, large builds. Typical. But these guys were spending quite freely, probably came back after a hefty commission. The tavern next door was filled with them in and out, but that wasn't his problem, nor did he care for their presence.
He stepped out and walked straight into the tavern without a thought for the eyes on him.
“How has business been, huh?”
“Fine… good actually.”
“Those thugs don't come ‘round here no more?”
“That was taken care of.”
“Huu, really eh?” He chuckled. Usually, he and his group of Merc kept things in check, but whenever they left for work, some of the low-lifes made trouble especially for female business owners like Lorean.
He was quite indebted to her, she showed no prejudice even to ‘barbarians’ like them. Maybe it was because she needed all the customers she could get, but it worked out for the both of them.
“Anyways, I have a favour, Mister captain.” She wiped down the table. “More like a request actually, plus you've got more to gain.” She added and laughed, the Captain just listened.
“There's a mage and swordswoman staying here, both are masters at their craft but for some reason… They have no work.” she shrugs, then glances at the clock, then back at him. “Can you take them with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. A mage and a swordswoman without a job. They told me they were exiled but…” she hesitated.
“You think they're lying, eh?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Well ofcourse!” she spoke as if it was the more obvious thing in the world, rubbing her temples.
To prove her point she leaned down and tapped on his beer mug, “it’s very cold, no? I had that mage boy redo the enchantment for me,” she straightened back up. “took em about two days and I only gave him a bag of gold!”
“Only a bag of gold? That's jackpot.” He let out a guttural laugh. “Either he's an idiot or a saint.”
“And the swordswoman is the one who took care of all the thugs, ain't never seen them again.”
He was impressed. “Really? Even my guys never got more than a week of those fools gone.” He smirked “these guys are really something—”
The door shook as it was thrown open. It never fell off its hinges. A person in a robe appeared, walking in with an irritated huff and an air that conveyed; ‘you mess with me, you're fucked’.
The gloom and irritation seems to suck the life of the tavern, laughter ceased abruptly upon the entrance of the unwelcomed.
The tall figure took a seat away from everyone and placed an order. But they seemed very pissed.
At first, he had thought that it was the male mage Lorean was talking about, but upon closer inspection, the figure lacked the refined mana of one, so it had to be the swordswoman. How intriguing, he had never met a woman so brazen in her actions as this one.
“Ah, Hegemonia!” Lorean went over to the swordswoman. “Where Nebula?”
“Oh? That bitch?” The swordswoman leaned back in her chair. “I don't know, probably taking his sweet sweet time showering or something.” the swordswoman shrugged.
Lorean laughed but didn't ask for more information. At this point, he had realized that, although Lorean had spoken about them as though they were friends, they seem to be more like… rivals, but would they travel together or have such a close bond? He contemplated as Lorean went to prepare the swordswoman’s order.
He intended to quietly watch the swordswoman but his men had a different view. “Hey! Just strutting in here like that?”
The woman ignored them, but gripped her goblet so tight that it should have collapsed under the pressure.
“Jeez, what type of person goes around so crazily? Even those Redrick guys have more glam.” the other guys chuckled.
“So damn annoying.” the figure muttered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.
The Merc that was calling out to her was offended, as their captain, he should have de-escalated the situation, but he was curious about what the swordswoman would do, so he didn't.
“What the hell is your problem, women!? You barge in here like a mad dog and now you—”
“Shut the fuck up.” the swordswoman has coldly, her eyes latched on to the Merc from under her hood.
“What the fuck did you say?”
One of the other guys patted him on the back. “C’mon man, just ignore the bitch, she doesn't know any better.”
Maybe he should have stepped in then, but perhaps he felt the need to let his younger, more arrogant men taste defeat that he watched for a moment longer. And he needed not to wait for long.
Crash!!!
In but a moment, two guys were sent flying across the room, crashing hard against the wall, blood dripping from their mouths. She dusted her hands casually as though she hadn't rendered two men unconscious in the blink of an eye.
“Ay! What are you doing?” A fellow Merc threw a punch at her, its trajectory aimed for a blind spot but she didn't even turn. Only grabbed his arm and twisted it, then he was thrown head-first into his other comrades.
She engaged in more fights with the Mercs but never once got hit, nor did she seem panicked. He watched unmoving with some of the veteran Mercs. It was an enjoyable watch but he should stop her now. As he stood, the tavern door opened and another figure stepped in.
Graceful in his pace, and stepping over the unconscious bodies as if they weren't there, he languidly sat at the same table that was occupied by the swordswoman, he was clearly the mage partner.
If the Captain were to guess, he would say that the man was at least a fourth circle mage And judging by the sword on his waist, he could also pack a punch. These people were truly amusing.
“Hegemonia… put the skewer down.” the mage called out. The swordswoman glared at him but dropped the skewer she was holding just as she was just about to stab it into one of the men's pterion.
The merc in question was terrified, and in desperation, he yelled out. “H-hey, hey! Get your girlfriend under control!”
“...” both of the robed figures stayed quiet, both staring at the guy like he was the one out of control. Then the mage said, like he regretted stopping the swordswoman in the first place; “...Nevermind, do whatever you want.”
The swordswoman picked up the skewer again and yanked on the hair of the man she targeted.
The Captain stood and already pulled out his axe, ready to disarm the swordswoman when Lorean ran out of her kitchen and screamed.
“HEY! Is this a fish market to you, a boxing ring, huh!? This is a tavern! T-a-v-e-r-n, TAVERN! Hegemonia-put-that-down.” Lorean slammed her hand on the counter, then exhaled. “Nebula! Don't just sit there!”
The mage shrugged as the swordswoman let go of the Merc, with a farewell kick to his guts. She walked back to her seat grumbling.
Lorean exhaled again then snapped to the Captain. “And Gordien, why didn't you stop them?”
She didn't wait for a reply though, just rushed back into the kitchen and back out with the food. Placing them on the shared table of the two unfamiliar figures while muttering about unfairness and cost of damages.
“You two sit tight, I'll be back.” She eyed them wearily and gestured with her hand to say; ‘I've one eye on you two’ then left for the back of the tavern.
The two just ate like no brawl happened, but they were arguing without holding back. The swordswoman blamed everything on the mage and cursed him to the depths of hell while the mage just snapped back at her with insults of his own.
The Captain, Gordien, instructed some of his more mature men to help the unconscious guys then went up to the two.
The floorboards creaked under his weight as he slung his axe over his shoulder. “Hey, Hegemonia and Nebula, right?” he said in his usual deep gravelly voice.
He extended his hand. “I'm the captain of the Greyhound mercenaries, would you be interested in working with us?”