Work Comes in

Seeing how Old Cat was pulling him away with such urgency, Glen understood that the man was trying to protect him. It wasn't that he didn't want to fight back, but he wasn't going to push Old Cat away. He'd bide his time. Once Old Cat was out of the picture, that man would regret messing with him.

"Consider yourself lucky, kid. Don't let me see you again!" the mercenary called Fang spat, putting away his whip with a defiant sneer before joining the rest of his team.

Maybe I should just kill him... Glen's thoughts darkened for a moment before he glanced toward the three magicians. He had sensed a faint aura around them—dark magic, similar to that of dark mages. They definitely weren't good people.

Old Cat, looking both relieved and nervous, let out a heavy sigh."Glen, you really scared me back there! Those are mercenaries! They're tough, dangerous people! And you were thinking of picking a fight with them? Are you out of your mind?""We can't afford to be reckless, my friend. These guys are dangerous. I've seen several of my old workmates end up in horrible situations after going up against the wrong people. They didn't walk away from it."

Glen sighed inwardly but said nothing. He knew Old Cat was only trying to protect him, though he had his own reasons for not backing down from a fight."I get it," Glen said with a nod, sensing that further explanation was pointless.

"Yeah... you get it," Old Cat muttered, unconvinced by Glen's indifferent tone. "But seriously, we have to stay out of their way."The two watched as the mercenaries continued on their path, several of the town's unlucky folk who had been too close to the group now nursing fresh welts from the mercenaries' cruel whips. None of them dared to speak up, though.

Turning to Old Cat, Glen asked, "Who are these mercenaries?"Old Cat blinked in surprise. "You don't know?"Glen shrugged."Oh, right... You've only been here a short while." Old Cat tapped his head and then began to explain.

"These guys belong to the Pank family—Pank the Count's mercenary group. They mostly operate along the kingdom's borders hunting beasts, but that's not their real business. The Pank family's sons are obsessed with exotic slaves, especially elves. This group is hired to capture and transport them." He nodded toward the cage carrying the elf girl. "They've been through here before, but it looks like this time, they went all out."

He looked back at the elf in the cage, his gaze darkening. "The Pank sons have offered a huge bounty for a live elf. They'll pay top dollar for one. Elves are considered the most beautiful race on the continent, so it's no surprise someone would go to such lengths to capture one."

Glen's frown deepened. "But wouldn't something like this invite the wrath of the Seith Kingdom?"Seith Kingdom was ruled by high elves and was one of the most powerful nations on the continent. They had all manner of elves in their realm, including night elves, frost elves, and forest elves. It was a kingdom that wouldn't hesitate to retaliate if their people were harmed.

"Of course," Old Cat agreed. "But I guess the Pank family thought it would take too long to smuggle one in, so they just went ahead and made it public. They probably think Seith won't care about one single forest elf. And I wouldn't doubt it—those nobles think they can get away with anything."

Glen nodded slowly, understanding. As he reflected on the situation, a wave of disgust hit him. The Pank family's callousness and sense of entitlement were appalling. It was obvious to Glen that they saw themselves as above others. And as a result, they exploited those weaker than them without hesitation.

"How do you think this elf's story will end?" Glen asked, though he had a pretty good idea. He just wanted to hear Old Cat's take.Old Cat looked troubled, his face grim. "You don't want to know.""I do," Glen replied, his voice firm.

Old Cat sighed, then spoke with reluctant sincerity. "An elf slave... it's a life without rights. Some might get lucky with a good master, but that's rare. The Pank family's sons are notorious for their cruelty. I've been around the Batsi region enough to hear their name spoken with fear. For this poor elf girl, her best-case scenario is probably being kept as a pet—just as a pretty thing to display. If her master doesn't lose interest, she might survive a bit longer."

Glen clenched his fists, his anger rising. "What happens if they get bored of her?"Old Cat hesitated, then continued. "Well, there are stories... If they get bored, she might end up as food for the family's hunting dogs or worse, used to make some kind of... elven wine."

Glen's expression darkened with disgust. "What do you mean, 'elven wine'?"Old Cat gave a shrug, as though the situation were beyond explanation. "It's an old myth. Elves are a long-lived race, and somewhere along the way, someone got the idea that steeping elf flesh in wine can prolong life. It's gruesome, but people still believe it."

Glen's stomach turned. This was beyond the pale, even for him. He was a soldier—a man of honor—but even the most hardened warrior would balk at the thought of such cruelty.

This has gone too far... Glen thought, his hands itching with the urge to act. He stared at the mercenary group as they walked further away.

"Let's go, before we get tangled up in something worse," Old Cat urged, his voice low."Yeah," Glen muttered. "I need to check on the pigs. I'll head back first."

Without another word, Glen turned and walked off quickly, leaving Old Cat standing there, unsure whether to follow.

Night in the Tavern

The tavern was filled with the raucous laughter and rowdy chatter of mercenaries celebrating. They had taken over the place, and the air was thick with the smell of booze, sweat, and lingering blood.

"Fang, you really overdid it this time. You got several of our guys killed!" one mercenary, with a broad forehead and a long nose, slapped the table, pointing at Fang with a teasing smile. There was no real anger behind his words, just lighthearted mockery.

"Don't put this on me!" Fang slammed his cup down with a loud clink, glaring. "Those idiots were weak! They got themselves killed by those damn elves!"The argument escalated, and more drunken voices joined in, turning the tavern into a noisy, chaotic mess.

Amidst the shouting, a few mercenaries—clearly of higher rank—remained silent, their eyes fixed on the cage containing the elf girl. One of them, the man who had stopped Fang earlier, was standing apart from the others, a dark expression on his face.

The man had rough, scarred skin and wore a set of worn leather armor. His face was covered in deep, vicious scars, and his exposed arms bore the marks of years of violence. He took a slow sip from his mug, then turned to the magician standing by his side.

"Boss, are we really going to keep going like this? Openly, without any caution?" the magician asked quietly, a hint of worry in his voice.

The scarred man looked over at the elf in the cage, who seemed to sense his gaze. She turned her face slightly, and their eyes met. The elf's gaze was filled with hatred and defiance.

"The trouble that comes with this is for the masters to worry about," the scarred man said with a grin, his lips curling. "Our job is just to get paid."