The World of Mercenaries

Chapter 7: The Mysterious Visitor

In this world, wherever the continental highway reaches, you’ll find a Treehouse Tavern—even in the frozen lands of the Icebound Continent.

On the eastern side of the Ice Forest, the Dragon’s Tooth Mountain highway splits, with branches leading north to the Hamir Kingdom’s capital, east to the North Hamir Kingdom, and west through the Ice Forest toward the Ice Fortress and the northern hub of the Holy Alliance, Fongan City. North of this fork stands a mighty tree, a silver-needled pine with a diameter of nearly five meters. Ten people would barely be able to encircle it with their arms, and ten meters up, nestled in its branches, is the renowned Treehouse Tavern.

Beneath the tavern, a square stone platform awaits guests. Stepping onto the stone automatically triggers an upward transport spell that lifts them directly to the tavern’s door.

Serving as the headquarters for the Mage Guild, the Mercenary Guild, and the Thieves’ Guild, the Treehouse Tavern is never short of visitors. Like other taverns across the continent, it features lovely little fairies with transparent blue wings fluttering around to serve drinks and food.

“A guest! A guest!” A small, monkey-like beastman greeted a middle-aged man, who had just walked in covered in snow, reaching up to take his hat.

At first glance, the man seemed noble, judging by his polite greeting to the beastman—a gesture only true nobles would sincerely extend to such low-status creatures.

The man stepped aside slightly to reveal a boy of sixteen or seventeen.

As the noble and the boy walked toward the bar, more patrons paused their conversations, their eyes drawn to the sword strapped to the boy’s back. It was nearly as tall as he was—a massive two-handed blade that, if made of iron, would weigh as much as a battle-axe or knight’s lance, suggesting the boy possessed considerable strength. What intrigued them even more was that the sword was blunt.

The boy had an air of refinement that mirrored the noble, or perhaps more that of a young scholar. His light brown hair fell naturally around his shoulders, his skin tanned with a hint of red from years spent outdoors. Beneath his thick eyebrows were solemn eyes, and a shy smile played on his lips. He wore a pristine coat of snow bear fur as he moved gracefully through the tables and chairs.

The tavern was filled mostly with mercenaries, and one, a mountain berserker, extended a long leg to trip the boy as he passed—a common prank around here, bound to end with the boy sprawled under his heavy sword.

Distracted by the tavern’s interior, the boy didn’t notice the trap. Just as he was about to be tripped, he instinctively skipped mid-air, stepping smoothly over the leg without breaking stride. His agility stunned the patrons, even the berserker who’d tried to trip him. The boy himself remained oblivious to the prank.

“Hey, handsome! Come sit here.” A woman in a low-cut red blouse called out to Chi Hanfeng, batting her eyelashes.

Seeing there were seats available, Chi guided Amy over.

“Oh, you naughty boy, where are you looking?” The woman leaned in, showing off her ample cleavage.

Poor Amy was frozen in place, wide-eyed, until Chi intervened with a playful smile. “Don’t misunderstand, miss. My nephew’s only fourteen. This is his first time away from home, and we don’t get to see such a natural beauty like yourself in our little village. And certainly not someone dressed as fashionably as you. This might even be his first time seeing such a lovely lady’s… charm. I wonder what it feels like?”

“A fresh one, huh?” The woman pinched Amy’s cheek playfully. “Still a bit young, but you—now you look like you’ve got some experience. Want me to do a reading for you? Just five gold coins.”

“When did prices jump up? Five years away, and suddenly everything’s inflated? Last I checked, a standard magic reading was just two silver coins,” Chi said as he casually sat on her table, making a hand signal that only insiders would understand, all while staring at her chest.

“Oh, sir, how can you say that? It’s tough making a living in this freezing land. Besides, if you don’t let me do a reading, you might be in serious trouble soon.”

“Oh? Is that so? How accurate are your readings?” Chi sipped his drink slowly, hiding a smirk.

“Hey, kid, you’ve been staring at my woman?” The berserker from earlier jabbed a thick finger at Amy. “Pay me for looking at her! You owe me ten gold coins for each time you looked at her chest. Otherwise, you won’t be leaving here tonight.” Silence settled over the tavern as everyone turned to watch the unfolding drama.

“Trash is trash,” Chi muttered, leaning over to pinch the woman’s chest. “I’ve looked a hundred times and even touched her. What now? A bit warm, but a bit saggy.” Chi had no intention of passing up this opportunity.

“Amy, in this world, it’s the strong who survive. Throw them outside, or we’re going hungry tonight.” Chi dropped the responsibility on Amy’s shoulders, propping his snow-soaked feet up on the table as he settled in to watch.

The berserker seemed satisfied to avoid a fight with the noble. Grabbing his long battle-axe, he gestured to his friends to clear the space behind him.

Amy scratched his head. Uncle Chi didn’t joke like this, so it seemed he’d have to earn their meal tonight. He unsheathed the two-handed sword from his back, took a step back, and prepared.

The tavern was large enough that even a duel occupied only a tenth of its space.

“Die, boy!” The berserker roared, swelling with rage as he rushed forward, battle-axe swinging down in a powerful arc.

Amy didn’t hesitate, meeting the attack head-on with his long sword.

The axe was deflected, but the berserker recovered swiftly, his weapon sweeping toward Amy’s shoulder. Adjusting his sword, Amy blocked it again, the axe skidding off his blade. It rebounded and swung toward Amy’s abdomen, but Amy blocked it with the hilt.

“Not bad, kid, you blocked my three-hit combo.” The berserker was visibly surprised by the teenager’s skill. “But you’re about to see hell. Phantom Strike!” With a fierce snarl, the berserker left afterimages in his wake with every movement—one, two, three, four…

“Careful! He’s a high-level berserker! Even his afterimages have attack power,” Chi called, abandoning his leisurely posture. In open terrain, a standard berserker could take on five two-handed sword fighters, but a high-level berserker with four phantom images could handle over twenty. Chi was starting to regret his actions.

Surprised at facing such a difficult opponent in his first real fight, Amy’s mind held only one thought: "Go all out.”

Amy’s sword danced in swift, controlled movements, creating his own afterimages—faint shadows of his blade appearing before him.

“Afterimages?!” The tavern buzzed with excitement, stunned that a young two-handed swordsman could match the berserker’s phantom strike. A fight like this belonged in the ballads.

In a powerful leap, Amy stepped through his own afterimage, closing the distance with the berserker and delivering three strikes—left, center, right—all leaving shadowy afterimages. Realizing Amy’s strength, the berserker parried furiously as his four afterimages encircled Amy, battle-axes descending from every angle.

The shout of “Afterimages!” caught the attention of members from the Mage Guild, Thieves’ Guild, and Mercenary Guild. More people poured out to watch the rare duel.

An old mage with a tattered blue robe and a symbol marking him as a grand mage emerged from the Mage Guild. Watching the fight, he furrowed his brow, murmuring, “Could it be him…”

“What’s the happiest thing in life?”

“Mom says it’s love.”

“No, it’s having mountains of pearls, rubies, gems, and gold and sleeping on them every day.”

“You’re both wrong. The happiest thing is eating fresh fish.”

“Out!” I roared, breathing a stream of fire and swatting several little ones—grandchildren or great-grandchildren—out of my cave. Sigh… 6,000 years old, and my temper hasn’t mellowed a bit. After each outburst, as I lie atop my mountain of gold and jewels, guilt gnaws at me.

What is the happiest thing in the world?

I grab a trout one of the little ones offered as tribute, biting down hard, white juices dripping from my mouth.

What is happiness?

Ah, I remember. Long ago, when I was a little green dragon. I didn’t even know I was a dragon… I thought I was a puppy. Hoho, my dimwitted master, Da Qingshan, thought the same. Whenever he went hunting, he took me along. If he hit his target and it didn’t die, he’d have me chase it down. I’d run and run, stumbling and tripping, but never caught up. Until, frustrated, I’d shout, “Hah!” and they’d freeze into an ice sculpture. I hadn’t yet learned that was my family’s dragon breath.

Every night, we’d fight over roasted game, and after, I’d lie by the warm fire, my head on Da Qingshan’s full belly, counting the stars above. At night, we’d squeeze into one bed, and he loved to hug my neck.

Those were happy days until we met that damn mage.

Oh, Da Qingshan… do you know I miss you?

What’s this? Cold… I thought dragons didn’t cry?

—Excerpts from the Diary of the Ancient Sacred Ice Dragon, Taimugerse