In order to build a reputation, one must occasionally provide some service to make an impression.
That said, I must be careful not to devalue myself too much, as being overly generous can backfire. There’s a delicate balance to maintain.
There happened to be a caravan leaving the city out of season, and when I offered to tag along gratis, it was met with an unexpectedly grand reception. Even though I planned to part ways with them in just three days, they insisted on covering my meals and even threw in a round of complimentary drinks.
It’s quite the lavish arrangement. For a caravan that claims to be community-focused, traveling from place to place and collecting information for manors, they certainly seem generous.
Still, I imagine they welcomed me with open arms, seeing me as potential good publicity. Word that a certain famous adventurer endorsed something, even as a mere prefix, can sometimes be enough to boost sales. Given that there’s an arms merchant accompanying the caravan, I suspect they had this in mind when inviting me along.
It makes little difference to me if they use my presence as a marketing tool. Let them have their way; I have no qualms about it. As I watch them set up camp, sharing in the pot of stew bubbling with ingredients they’ve gathered, it feels like a fair trade.
We have prepared provisions and drinking water for the round trip on the Sword Friends Association’s cart pulled by Castor and Polydeuces, but feeding over twenty bellies can be costly. Having three days of meal expenses spared is nothing short of a blessing.
Besides, we have a houseful of hearty eaters. The larger ones consume mountains of food in proportion to their size, and even the smaller ones aren’t exactly sparing in their appetite. Being smaller than humans doesn’t necessarily mean goblins expend less energy than I do.
As I was keeping watch — everyone in the Sword Friends Association takes turns with the night shifts — and glancing at the preparations for supper, I noticed our companions gathering around the enticing aroma. Some were even suggesting adding ingredients from their own preserved food supplies.
Ah, isn’t this a wonderful sight? An adventurer who can peacefully collaborate with a caravan is certainly a fine example. Being subjected to pressure in the role of an escort while traveling is truly undesirable.
Moreover, we’ve only been a day’s distance from Marsheim. Even in the Threefold Empire, bandits rarely appear so close to the state capital. A pleasant journey with a bit of harmless fun should be just about right. I’m willing to let them enjoy themselves within limits.
Besides, there’s a group of traveling courtesans working alongside the caravan.
Needless to say, provincial towns don’t have red-light districts, so such services are in demand among travelers who accumulate certain urges along the way. They have also visited our manor occasionally, catering to those without companions.
While late-night clamors can be a nuisance, it’s far preferable to the alternative of pent-up dissatisfaction leading to gruff behaviors.
The few women in the caravan might give slightly colder looks, but they themselves are accomplished adventurers and should understand. After all, life-and-death missions can stir passions equally in both men and women.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Lost in my thoughts observing the lively Sword Friends Association, I was hailed.
Having sensed the approach long before, I turned calmly to find a young human woman dressed in a maiden’s gown, holding a pitcher and a cup.
“Would you care for some water?”
“Oh, thank you very much.”
She was an attractive woman. Her oval face framed by glossy black hair looked as if dampened with a sheen, her large, drooping eyes, which might appear sleepy to some, were a dark brown nearly black. Her elegant nose contrasted nicely with her sensual lips, exuding a potent charm. Yet, the teardrop mole at the corner of her left eye tempered the intensity, creating an alluring balance.
She was roughly at my solar plexus in height; small for a woman but well-built. Even through the fabric of her gown, her plump, soft curves were evident. In this era, a fuller figure is often more admired than a slim one, and she possessed the sought-after middle ground—neither too thin nor too heavy.
The word “seductive” came to mind.
She wasn’t a painted beauty whose features were meticulously arranged for maximum appeal like Lady Agrippina, nor did she resemble the exaggerated proportions of Lord Raizenitz, who seemed untouchable in their perfection. Precisely because of that, she was dangerously beautiful. People don’t always gravitate toward the ideal golden ratio; more relatable beauties tend to win broad appeal.
In this regard, she seemed perfectly equipped to stir the hearts of many men, even capturing the attention of someone like me, who has seen countless beauties in the capital.
She embodied a captivating allure but lacked the perfection that would be unsettling in its flawlessness. She radiated a widow-like sophistication paired with a maiden’s purity, her age ambiguous in both looks and demeanor. She was a courtesan, marked by the yellow ribbon adorning her collar—a common practice among itinerant courtesans to distinguish them from ordinary women and to signal when they were conducting business. Often working outside official semi-public red-light districts, these courtesans accompany caravans and mercenaries, creating a somewhat mutual benefit system as they travel.
The water she offered was lukewarm but refreshingly infused with mint. After a few swigs, I graciously declined a refill. Though no tampering was detected, I wasn’t particularly thirsty.
Drinking too much during a march can be inconvenient. We’re almost professionally accustomed to going waterless when necessary.
As I handed back the cup and returned my gaze to my watch, her presence lingered far longer than expected.
I wondered if there was something specific on her mind, but without any further prompts from her side, I remained silent and vigilant. Someone else can handle the night shift while she rests.
Could it be…a business proposition? Though I have Margit, I have never approached courtesans with such an intent. I usually sidestep women who lean into me during gatherings in the red-light district or when our compatriots drop out during our ventures there. Last night, for instance…
Satisfied as we are in our relationship, there’s no need for extra attentions. Though occasionally, I am jokingly teased about going easy on her.
I had hoped silence would prompt her to leave, but as the sun dipped toward the horizon, my patience ran thin, and I turned around. She was smiling at me with such melting affection that it almost seemed intoxicating.
Her flushed cheeks suggested euphoria. Keeping her gaze steady, she never ceased smiling as she simply watched me.
Curious enough to inquire if something was amiss, I was finally greeted with a proper response.
“Your renowned golden hair…your esteemed countenance. I’ve longed to meet you…”
She clasped her cheek with her hand and sighed dreamily. What a fan! Though her sultry tone momentarily startled me, it’s not uncommon to be scrutinized like this. Surprisingly many people seek to meet adventurers out of mere curiosity, akin to how people flock to local celebrities despite lacking a genuine interest. It’s a similar mindset to seeing a film star visit your town.
Shaking hands as a form of fan service proved highly effective in delighting her, so I deemed it a success.
“Truly like a poem, your formidable presence. It’s a treat for the eyes,” she complimented with an intriguing dialect that I later learned to be a courtly accent of immigrants.
As she leaned in while maintaining a handshake grip, I gently stepped back to signal my lack of interest. Her puzzled expression soon transformed into an understanding smile as she stepped away.
No, that much service, I do not provide.
I entrusted her to deliver water to the other sentries, and she left reluctantly, glancing back at me multiple times.
Hmm… That was perilously charming. Without Margit, I might have been more swayed by her remarkable allure.
It’s remarkable how rare it is to encounter someone whose beauty doesn’t tire with observation. Truly well-Featured faces can exert a significant presence. Though I’ve become too familiar with Lady Agrippina and Lord Raizenitz to truly appreciate it anymore, Mika, whether male or female, is stunning but remains approachable due to our friendship. First impressions, especially in the case of the Threefold Empire’s nobility, who through careful breeding have cultivated a high concentration of beauty genes, can be overwhelming.
In the company of such impeccably beautiful men and women, even when aware of it as a job, speaking with magazine-cover-caliber beauties can feel mentally exhausting.
Encountering beauty that doesn’t weary the mind is genuinely extraordinary. One could imagine that she, if trained in poetry or musical instruments, could secure a position in a prestigious brothel in the capital. Why she would choose to be an itinerant courtesan attached to a caravan when there are better opportunities in the provinces is unclear. Such details are best left to conjecture, though undoubtedly there’s some complex reason.
Life, indeed, has its uncertainties.
“Boss, it’s about time we switch over. You’ve been standing guard for two hours now,” called Etan.
“Oh, already? Alright, I’ll leave it to you… How was the meal?”
“Ah, it was quite lavish. We even had meat. Just getting warm soup is nice, so this is quite the treat!”
With Etan taking over, I decided to take a break. The sun has set, so I’ll wake Margit for the night watch.
“Oh, by the way, boss, I have a favor to ask,” came a parting remark from Etan. Apparently, Yorgos, who has been brooding since the day before yesterday, needs some intervention. I had assigned him to Etan’s team today, and his gloomy demeanor must have been contagious.
“Ah…about that…”
“Eh? What’s going on, boss?”
It is improper to claim a quick understanding, so after scratching the back of my head with confusion, I shrugged. Indeed, while it’s my problem, only Yorgos can solve his own conundrum.
Fact is, with the participation of carrying the giant ogre sword, it’s clear he has yet to fully align his thoughts about it all.
This is a truly challenging and unprecedented puzzle. Either way, our companions are easy to read. Some aspire to be heroes in adventure tales, some dream of becoming poetry legends, others seek the path of sword sainthood—everyone’s ambitions are clear and straightforward.
Even those driven purely by financial motives make their ultimate goals clear: a life of extravagance, acquiring farming land to establish a family branch, breaking free of tenant farming, gathering funds for marriage dowries, or purchasing urban citizenship. Their objectives are clearly defined.
Thus, Yorgos’ youthful identity crisis poses quite the challenge.
It’s one thing to say, but understanding one’s ideal self can be convoluted. Despite living nearly fifty years in this life and potentially others, I still haven’t found the answer. Likely, no matter how long one lives, such an answer evades us altogether.
Attempting to guide a seeker of adventure through the grand riddle of life is difficult, yet I shall make an effort.
“Mm, I’ll see what I can do, but this isn’t the kind of problem you can solve with women,” I mused.
“Ah, so, it’s related to women then? Oh, by the way, boss, talking about women, there is a really enchanting ‘yellow-decorated’ girl around, no?”
“Yellow-decorated,” refers to courtesans, denoting the yellow ribbon they wear as an identifying mark. They are sometimes simply called “yellow” or “ribbon-holders,” with the latter being an interesting and perhaps strong term. Though it doesn’t add much to inside jokes no one understands.
“Are you interested?”
“Yup, she’s a real looker… But, you see, as a member of bovine-kind, I’m not exactly popular with human women.”
Not popular? Usually, brawny types are quite the charm with the womenfolk. Why?
Apparently, sexual intercourse involving bovine-kind is considered too rough for human standards. Especially among their species, where pre-coital rituals include mutual sparring and even grappling techniques, it proves too intense for humans.
Ahh, so offering that advice about relieving oneself with a woman was misplaced, wasn’t it?
This must be the species gap… Perhaps mingling such vulgar anecdotes with serious topics is a good learning opportunity. Relying purely on books or regular socializing doesn’t seem to cover the breadth of life lessons needed.
Determined to find a better simile by our next training session, I handed the watch back and returned to the wagon.
Margit, as ever, was wrapped in her blanket, sleeping as peacefully as a cat. Her deep, slow breathing conveyed such tranquility that waking her felt almost sacrilegious. Even when I gently shook her shoulder, she merely protested and didn’t stir, but her awareness seemed restored.
Unable to bear the act further, I stroked her hair, and she protested for a few more moments, allowing me only to press a kiss to her slightly parted lips. Lately, she’s been behaving quite the charmer.
“Mn… Is it the night watch already…”
“Yes. Let’s eat supper before you take over, while those with sharper night vision assist.”
“Understood,” she replied, stretching herself, resembling a feline extending its paws forward and arching its back.
After a good stretch, she gracefully climbed up to her usual perch against my neck, a rather intimate move that stirred my heart.
Then she whispered, catching a scent unusual to her nose.
Rushing to explain, I recounted the encounter with the water-girl who happened to be a fan, and we merely exchanged a handshake.
My companion hummed meaningfully as she placed her breathtakingly gorgeous face startlingly close, a broad smile hinting at something unsettling, like I might be swallowed whole.
“You know, it’s fine if you want to have some fun. I’ve told you plenty of times, I’m not that possessive…”
Your instrument burns brighter the fiercer it is, she murmured, sending a shiver down my spine.
I responded with a strained smile, deflecting the moment by suggesting we get some dinner…
And so the night continued, awkwardly evading the topic…
