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Seated beside one of the wagons, Hamel let out a loud laugh and said, “Wow! You’ve gotten ridiculously strong, kiddo!”
It had only been a few months since they last saw each other, but his face was filled with nothing but joy at the unexpected reunion. Rangers often ended up cold and aloof due to the nature of their role and training, but Hamel, perhaps due to his temperament, greeted them with a friendly attitude just like before.
Of course, having a life debt to repay, it was only natural for a mercenary to act this way.
“Can’t believe you brought down that Garlond so easily! I feel embarrassed now for getting all worked up trying to stop you!”
“There’s no need to be,” Leon replied, shaking his head. “He was strong. But the cursed sword had clouded his mind. He couldn’t even bring out half his actual skill. On top of that, you did a number on him, so he wasn’t in good shape. If we had fought properly, I wouldn’t have been able to end it so cleanly.”
Leon wasn’t just being modest. An A-rank mercenary was, by definition, a veteran of countless battlefields, someone who had experienced a wide range of combat scenarios against other people.
They could see through most tricks instantly, turn traps on their enemies, and gamble with their lives only when it truly mattered. They were fighters who had...
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