3-4

That afternoon, the idle mercenaries gathered in a hall within the fortress. Commander Marlis stood in the center of the room, holding a stack of mission bulletins. He would read out the objectives and rewards for each mission, waiting for volunteers to sign up.

"Assist in fortifying the defenses. Hunt edible desert creatures. Test the new explosives developed by the gnomes." As usual, Marlis began with tasks that didn't involve direct confrontation with enemies and were naturally low-paying. According to the invisible hierarchy of respect among mercenaries, those who consistently settled for such tasks would lose respect and eventually become akin to menial workers in the fortress. Bossia hadn't taken on such tasks for a long time. As a woman in the mercenary world, she had to be more mindful of the genuine respect she could earn.

"Next," Marlis shook the papers in his hand. "There's a long-abandoned outpost near the northern mountains that's become a nest for the bugs. I need someone to burn it clean. The location details are all here. This is dangerous because the bugs are preparing to fortify their nests and lay eggs. That's why we must act quickly. The reward is fifty silver coins, the largest sum this week, but it will likely need to be shared by two or three people. Who's interested? I'll give you two minutes to consider..."

"I'll go." Just as other interested mercenaries began whispering among themselves, Bassario responded. He stood only a few feet from Marlis. Some mercenaries still deciding looked at him with intense displeasure. The entire hall fell silent.

"Bassario." Marlis turned to his left to look at the volunteer. "You, and who else?"

"I'll go alone."

"That's not acceptable. Whether you can handle fifty silver coins alone isn't my concern; this is an urgent mission that must succeed. One person alone can't guarantee success. Anyone else willing? At least two people need to cooperate..."

"I'll go with him."

Bossia raised her hand. She was on the outer edge of the crowd, and when she spoke, many turned to look at her. Her voice was still relatively unfamiliar to most, including Bassario. He glanced at Bossia with mild curiosity and then looked away.

"That's not possible," he said to Marlis. "She doesn't have much experience."

The crowd stirred, mixing mockery with the boisterous chatter typical of mercenaries. "Too bad, sweetheart, seems the native has standards too," someone next to Bossia said. She ignored such comments and noticed those who remained silent and visibly displeased; they seemed unable to tolerate a native being the center of attention. Bassario didn't turn around.

"You there..." Marlis, with his height, only needed to slightly turn his neck to see Bossia near the edge of the room. "…miss. Sorry, I can't recall your name."

"Agnes."

"Oh. Agnes, I see you and Bassario haven't discussed this. You're standing quite far apart, right?"

"We haven't discussed it," Bassario replied.

"Then I can't approve it. Cooperative missions require mutual trust, at least a proper discussion beforehand, especially for something dangerous like this. We've delayed enough. If no one else steps forward, the mission is canceled and left to my soldiers..."

At this point, Bassario turned to look at Bossia for the second time. The first time was just to see who was speaking, but this time he made brief eye contact, conveying a sense of affirmation without much else.

"However," he said to Marlis. "We've worked together before, and it went well. We'll take this task."

"Whatever your situation, I don't care. But if you can't ensure success..."

"She lacks some experience, but she's competent in other ways. Besides, it seems we're the only two here confident enough to handle this. You didn't see anyone else step up, did you?"

His remark sparked a new round of noise, this time charged with repressed fervor. A few whistles indicated not everyone was angered, but the dominant mood was one of unpleasant tension. Amidst the complaints and insults, the word "native" was frequently emphasized.

"Quiet," Marlis said. His command was effective. Without needing to repeat himself, all shouting and whispering ceased simultaneously. "He's right. Anyone who can't get the job done and just wants to freeload in the fortress can be expelled anytime. Bassario, Agnes, this mission is yours. Anyone who says one more thing that I don't like will be on my warning list immediately. Here," he handed the mission bulletin to Bassario. "Get what you need from the armory, fill your bellies, and head out immediately. You should reach the target by morning. Don't disappoint me. If you die near the bugs' nest, no one will retrieve your bodies. Understood, you in the back?"

"Understood," Bossia replied.

Marlis nodded. "Next..."

Being closer to the door, Bossia was the first to leave the stuffy room. Moments later, Bassario also stepped out. He looked at her, about to speak, but she beat him to it.

"Even fifty silver coins split in half is more than I've ever earned. Besides, you need a helper."

"That's debatable."

"Let's see."

Bassario patted her shoulder and walked past her. "Anyway, let's go get our gear."

Bossia walked alongside him. Midway, they encountered a mercenary whose name she hadn't remembered, holding something in his right hand that swung with his arm's motion. As it swung into view, she recognized it as a woman's head.

"Bassario," the man stopped right in front of them. "In a hurry? I just collected the bounty I took a week ago and was looking for someone to celebrate with."

"Going to work." Bassario raised the mission bulletin in his hand and then lowered it. "Since when have you worried about not having anyone to gamble with you?"

The man laughed. Bossia noticed a vertical scar on the right side of his lower lip that revealed part of his gums as he smiled.

"Who's she?" he asked, looking at Bossia.

"My partner for this mission."

"I've seen you a few times... I should have figured it out earlier. You don't seem to be from an ordinary background. You like adventure, don't you, woman? Get smart, or you'll end up like this Twilight Guardian." He lifted the head higher, looked at it, and then turned it towards Bossia. "She was still quite pretty. But she's no longer herself. She's now worth a gold coin in my hand. Tell me, where are you from? I think you don't belong here."

Bossia didn't respond and walked past him. He reached out to touch her hair but missed.

"Honorable lady, whether you come from a splendid cathedral or some count's garden," his voice faded as she walked away. "With my sincerest respect and gratitude, I welcome you to Silithus. Excuse me, I have some private matters to discuss with this beautiful lady beside me..."

Bossia wanted to ask Bassario who this man was but feared drawing attention to her own origins, so she remained silent. Reflecting on how the man stared at the head, she didn't feel particularly disgusted but rather annoyed. Since assuming her new identity, it was the first time someone had questioned her background; she didn't like being seen through, especially by a fanatical killer examining a severed head.

"He's Rahol," Bassario said voluntarily. "Not quite right in the head. Don't mind him, but also don't approach him."

"Are you... friends?"

"Probably quite the opposite."

They walked through the night. From horses, goats, wolves to kodos, none of Azeroth's usual mounts were suitable for use in Silithus. Traveling with these vulnerable creatures would only make bug attacks more successful. It was said the military was experimenting with using trained Qiraji bugs as mounts, capable of running lightly and nimbly over the desert without attracting the attention of enemy bugs. But even if these mounts became widespread among mercenaries, Bossia felt it would take some time for her to overcome her psychological barriers.

The night was calm, but for Silithus residents, they were used to and ignored the sound of bugs swarming in the distance. To their east, they could see Silithus' highest peak, also the most corrupted: The Swarm Pillar. Except on rare rainy days, these countless flying bugs always cloaked the summit like a constantly moving black fog. Bossia still remembered her first day here, how The Swarm Pillar completely and permanently destroyed her impression of Silithus. Nothing else could simultaneously bury seeds of fear, disgust, and a sense of insignificance in one's heart like The Swarm Pillar. Marlis always talked about destroying this or that bug nest today or tomorrow, even mentioning plans to attack Silithus' three major ground bug nests, but never discussed what to do about The Swarm Pillar. It was too steep to climb. Like trying to dismantle a bomb above one's head that always remained out of reach. Only by refusing to talk about it could it be prevented from symbolizing a war that might never be won.

"Probably two more hours to go," Bassario said.

Bossia nodded. Then she asked a question she had planned for a long time.

"Bassario, I've heard... you're the only mercenary born here?"

"You mean a native?"

"...Yes."

"No. But I'm the only one still alive. The previous one died when I was twelve. In Shawlt, natives don't like this line of work."

"Then why do you do it?"

"They are them, I am me. It's my own business. After I got this," he touched the purple bug bone sword hanging at his waist, "it gave me another reason. Only from a rare giant Qiraji bug can you get material suitable for a weapon. I have what they don't... so I must continue."

Bossia wanted to understand if "they" referred solely to other natives or also included mercenaries, and whether "thing" referred only to the sword. She decided she was overthinking it.

"Will you ever leave Silithus? Go outside?"

Bassario stopped and turned. "You're from outside. When do you plan to leave?" he said.

"I... haven't decided yet."

"Outsiders can never answer that."