The Mercenary Office was just as loud as I remembered.
Requests posted.
Arguments in corners.
Steel scraping against stone floors.
I searched for Lamanae.
From the beginning, she had handled most of my assignments. If anyone could recommend a suitable mission, it was her.
Her desk had a short queue. I joined quietly and waited.
When my turn came, she was smiling at the previous client.
The moment she saw me, the smile vanished.
"So," she said flatly, "you finally return. After disappearing for an entire month."
"I told you I'd be taking time off."
"And you think that means there are no consequences?"
I frowned.
She pulled out a ledger and tapped it.
"Your rating dropped."
"What?"
"For a full month you took no missions. Rookie or not, inactivity affects your standing. Only mercenaries listed as near-death or assigned to long-term guild missions are exempt."
I hesitated. "I was training."
She leaned forward slightly. "If you were near death, your eyes would show it. Yours look… satisfied."
I didn't respond.
"As of now, your rating is low," she continued. "Unless you complete a long-term mission, it won't recover quickly."
"Do I really need rating right now?" I asked. "I can just take small missions and build it back."
She gave me a look.
"Do you want to remain stuck at two-bronze forever?"
Silence.
"Ratings determine eligibility. From silver rank onward, you gain access to the guild library, technique archives, and the broker system for information. Even from three-copper upward, you can request missions suited to your specialization."
That caught my attention.
After a pause, I nodded. "What's available?"
She didn't hide her satisfaction.
"There's a security escort for a merchant caravan. Handiworks Trading Company. Destination: the northern territory under the Duke of Raonelet."
A northern duke.
New territory.
"It's a week-long journey, including return," she continued. "Food and tents will be provided while traveling. Inns inside cities are at your own expense."
"Caravan?" I asked.
She folded her hands.
"Several merchants form an alliance instead of traveling alone. They pool resources and hire stronger mercenary protection. Safer. Cheaper overall."
"Can I join?"
"Normally? No."
She paused deliberately.
"But The Winged Sword has a good reputation in the guild. That is the only reason your absence was tolerated and why this exception is possible."
So they weren't just a three-copper team after all.
"Other mercenary groups are joining as well," she added. "The Viper. And Bull Charge."
I didn't recognize the names.
"The Viper specialize in assassination tactics. They consider subtlety superior to brute force. Even their archers prefer precision over spectacle."
"And Bull Charge?"
She smirked slightly.
"Muscle. Direct engagement. They believe problems are solved by running through them."
That combination didn't sound stable.
"When does it begin?"
"Tomorrow. Nine in the morning. Near the eastern gate of Luxina."
I nodded.
"Be there on time."
When I returned to Duracal's forge, the rhythmic hammering echoed across the yard.
He was deep in discussion with a client about weapon balance.
I waited quietly until he finished.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I accepted an escort mission," I said. "North. A week."
He studied me carefully.
"Good."
"That's all?"
"You're young," he said. "You should see more than this town. Not just the north—one day, the whole world."
He turned back to the forge.
"But remember something."
He glanced over his shoulder.
"This will always be your home."
I didn't answer.
I stepped forward and hugged him from behind.
Then I began preparing for the journey.
Tomorrow, I would step beyond the nest.