Although the guild had been closed for a while, many staff members were still outside.
Jenny and several others were explaining the situation to groups of adventurers arriving in intervals. Their expressions were grave; few seemed optimistic that they could intercept the raid in time.
Nearby, several merchants were unloading provisions and travel supplies, which guild staff were hastily dividing into individual packs. The normally quiet area in front of the guild was now bustling with people and supplies.
Multiple torches illuminated the gathering, but the light only reached so far, casting deep shadows around the perimeter.
Footsteps echoed as another group approached.
âWeâve managed to secure two wagons and five horses!â someone shouted to the staff. Moments later, other voices called out from different directions.
âWeâve got three carts for the supplies.â
âIâve borrowed four horses, but oneâs pretty old,â another reported.
The guild worker whoâd accompanied me leaned over and spoke quietly.
âTheyâre still gathering food, horses, and carts. Weâll likely depart by dawn. But are you really planning to go on your own?â
He looked doubtful, as if he couldnât quite believe I could travel faster than a horse with magic.
âYes,â I replied. âBut if I could have a bit of food and a map, just in caseâ¦â
It seemed Jenny had noticed me by now. She and the other staff members turned their heads, their faces brightening with relief.
âRafa, youâre here,â Jenny said, visibly relieved as she hurried over.
âWe need to depart as soon as possible, but finding transportation has been difficult. Many adventurers donât even know how to ride, so just having horses alone isnât enough,â she said, glancing at me with concern.
âCan you ride, Rafa?â
âNo, Iâve never ridden a horse before. But I donât need one. I can run faster than a horse using wind magic.â
Jennyâs eyes widened.
âIâve worked here since I was young, and Iâve never heard of such a thing! I didnât know a mage could do that.â
It made senseâmost mages couldnât. Iâd heard that every mage had their unique approach to harnessing magic, and sometimes knowing how to do something didnât mean you could do it. Especially for strong mages, technique often depended on their own special methods.
Tatiana had mentioned that using magic effectively was the key to true power.
During my brief conversation with Jenny, the guild worker returned, carrying a map and a small bag of provisions. With my torch in hand, I set off immediately.
When the other adventurers realized I was going ahead alone, they called out to me.
âRafa! Weâre counting on you!â
âWeâll follow as soon as we can!â
âHold them off for just a while longer!â
It would likely all be over by the time they arrived.
I raised a hand in acknowledgment and started to run.
----------------------------------------
âSir Paul, weâre ready,â someone reported.
âUnderstood,â Paul replied, pressing his fingers to his tired eyes before getting up from his chair.
Heâd only managed to snatch about an hour of sleep. For the past few days, proper rest had been a luxury he couldnât afford.
For an adventurer, slaying a dragon might be the main event, but Paulâs real work began afterward.
Managing the dragonâs dissection and arranging its sale involved the hands-on efforts of his entire team, but every step still required Paulâs approval. Negotiations with guild members and merchants were just as demanding.
It wasnât all about getting the highest price either. Some merchants held significant influence in the city, so he had to consider every decision carefully.
Even in his sleep, he dreamed of negotiations over the dragonâs hide.
âJust a few more days, and itâll be over.â
The dragonâs heart and innards had already been shipped out. Only the hide and bones remained.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Since there were so few skilled enough to work with dragonhide, theyâd decided to prepare and process the materials here. Selling the pieces separately allowed them to fetch a higher price overall.
Although some merchants were a little disgruntled, they couldnât really argue. After all, the local craftsmen here were top-tier, and the hide was in excellent condition, having been processed immediately.
The small dragonâs hide, though from a lesser species, was a rare find in this pristine state.
âIâll see this through and secure the best price possible,â Paul thought, forcing himself to stay sharp.
Leaving his tent, he nodded to the weary guild staff gathered outside. Their exhaustion was plain, but they continued their work diligently.
Paul entered the large tent where the dragonhide and bones were stored. Several merchants had already gathered, their employees and guards standing at the back with bags of gold, ready to exchange them for trade certificates as soon as the deals were finalized.
One side of the tent was partitioned with cloth, hiding the dragonhide and bones.
At Paulâs nod, the attendant lifted the partition, revealing the hide. The merchants surged forward, their eyes gleaming as they inspected the goods.
Then, from outside, they heard a cry.
âBandits! Weâre under attack!â
Screams erupted from all directions.
âBandits? Here?â
Dusty County did have some bandits, but theyâd specifically chosen this location, thinking the area was clear of any large bandit groups.
Paul rushed to the entrance, but before he could make it, he heard the thud of something striking the tent. He looked up to see arrows piercing through the canvas and dropping to the ground.
âArrows? It really is a raid?â
Drawing his sword, he saw the guards rushing toward him, ready to help fend off the attack. But as he stepped outside, the tent flap lifted, and in walked a giant man clad in armor on one arm.
The giantâs eyes passed over Paul and the merchants, focusing immediately on the dragonhide.
âAs expected, itâs in the biggest tent.â
Several rough-looking men followed him inside, their shouts and the agonized cries of their victims filling the tent each time the flap opened.
One of the merchants murmured, barely able to breathe, âItâs Hans the Mightyâ¦â
----------------------------------------
Hans had always been known for his strength.
Born to a poor farming family, his parents and the townspeople alike believed he was destined for more than the life of a peasant. The strongest boy in the village, Hans had a wild streak that his family struggled to contain. At thirteen, he was introduced to a mercenary group through a series of connections.
In the beginning, he was nothing but a servant, a punching bag for the others. Back in his village, no one could best him in strength, but in the mercenary group, brute force alone wasnât enough.
Yet Hans was a quick learner. Observing the others, he picked up combat techniques and weapons skills rapidly.
By his second year, he was earning a proper wage. By his third, heâd proven himself as one of the more competent fighters in the group.
Then came the assignment to track down Helga. It shattered his confidence.
When they traced her trail to the city near the enchanted forest, Hans realized just how outmatched he was.
Another pursuit team had already tried to ambush her in the open fields and failed miserably. Theyâd learned the hard way that she couldnât be beaten in open combat.
So, his group waited, hoping to catch Helga off-guard in the city.
They got their chance when she entered the city to collect supplies for a noble named Klaus. They planned to ambush her while her attention was elsewhere.
But Hans couldnât forget what happened next.
Years later, he still woke up drenched in sweat, haunted by the image of her cold, unwavering eyes.
He remembered those eyes as she sat on Klausâs carriage, staring him down. Heâd fled in terror, instinctively knowing he would die if he didnât.
One of his comrades had tried to board the carriage after him, but Hans heard the sickening crunch of bone behind him. Without looking back, he ran.
In the end, only seven of them survived, all of whom had escaped in panic. Those who stayed to fight had died, and the two who played dead were left maimed for life.
News of Hansâs cowardice spread like wildfire, and no mercenary group would take him after that.
With no other options, he and the other survivors became bandits.
But even if heâd remained a bandit, Hans might have faded into obscurity. It was the fear of Helga that kept him going, that gnawed at him day and night. The terror that one day she might appear and kill him kept his heart racing.
Desperate for strength, he eventually acquired a strange piece of armor for his arm, though he knew nothing of its origins. With it, his strength multiplied, as if the armor had become an extension of himself.
Since then, heâd experienced nothing but success. Powerful followers flocked to him, his raids brought in increasingly valuable loot, and his weapons grew finer. Even the information he received was of better quality.
Like now.
A village with only a few guards and merchantsâ escorts wouldnât be able to resist them. Hansâs band of elite, honed through trial and attrition, was more than capable of taking it on.
The rumor that Helga had slain the dragons intrigued him. Perhaps facing this fear head-on would free him of it at last.
With his armor, he was confident even she wouldnât stand a chance.
He knew she wouldnât be here, but the thought of taking what sheâd hunted stirred something in him.
Yet, when they attacked, he found himself disappointed.
The sentries were clueless, falling to arrows without so much as a cry. Once they were dealt with, entering the village was easy.
It was as simple as crushing the hand of a child.
As he entered the largest tent, he saw a polished nobleman and a few attendants standing by, looking as though theyâd be grateful to be captured.
No need to searchâeverything he wanted was right there.
Hans grinned, reaching for the nobleman.
âLord Paul!â two guards cried, raising their swords to block him. But their clean, practiced swings were useless in a real fight.
Swinging his mace, he sent their swords flying.
âUrgh!â
The guards cried out in pain as one clutched his twisted wrist, and the other collapsed with a groan.
Canât kill them, Hans reminded himself.
âTake them alive,â he ordered, grinning. âTheyâll fetch a good price.â
âUnderstood, boss!â
Just as his men seized the frightened nobleman, a loud roar erupted from outside.
âRafaâs here!â
âRafaâs arrived!â
A chorus of shouts went up, stirring confusion.
Rafa? Who is that? Another soldier? A mercenary?
But as Hans peered through the tentâs opening, his heart seized with dread.
The face that met his gaze was one he could never forget.
There, defying time, Helga stood before him, holding one of his own men high in the air.
As their eyes met, she flung the bandit at him.
Hans barely dodged as his comradeâs body hurtled toward him, and he steadied himself, pushing down the fear that clawed at his spine.
âRAAAAARRRRGH!â Hans screamed, charging forward.
Now, he was not the man he once was.
He was Hans the Mighty.
Enhanced with strength no ordinary man could match.
âDIE, HELGA!â he roared, hurtling toward her.