SWY 53

“They filthy bastards are in Verden?!”

“Filthy Crotches” was actually a nickname Sharhan had come up with. Their real name was Savage Hawks a second rank mercenary group. Like the Red Wolves, they had been employed by the Marquis of Valmon, but contrary to their fierce and dignified name, they were vile and despicable scum.

They were always the first to swarm when sex workers arrived, and they were known to abduct smaller, prettier mercenaries to rape. They’d start fights over nothing.

Their leader, Delos, was especially notorious. He once beat a member of another guild to death simply because the guy annoyed him. The list of their crimes and chaos was endless.

The only reason the Marquis of Valmon didn’t cancel their contract was simple: when they fought, they killed more enemies than anyone else. They looked like demons drunk on blood, laughing and cheering as they cut down foes. Even the roughest mercenaries avoided them.

Sharhan utterly loathed them. Whenever they saw him, they ogled him with lustful eyes, whistling and making crude remarks. Delos even once threw him a pouch of coins and demanded he spread his legs.

‘Fuck, now I’m pissed all over again.’

Most of the ones who’d sneered “Why bust your ass with mercenary work when you could just sell your body?” were Savage Hawks. Sharhan had laughed them off while crushing their groins underfoot, and that’s when the name “Filthy Crotches” started – but inwardly, he’d been seething with fury.

If he had been weaker, or shown even the slightest vulnerability, they would’ve dragged him off and raped him in a heartbeat. He’d only been safe because he always fought back, and because the Red Wolves were fiercely protective of him.

After their one-year contract with the Marquis ended, Filthy Crotches left the battlefield without a second glance. Sharhan hadn’t seen them since. But now they were not only in Verden, they had taken over the eastern gate? It made him want to curse out loud.

‘God. I’d almost forgotten those bastards. Never thought I’d hear that name again, here of all places.’

Lestel, catching the wave of disgust rising in Sharhan’s eyes, frowned too.

“I didn’t know either. Turns out they’ve been running an illegal fight ring. Their influence has grown a lot.”

“An illegal fight ring?”

“Yeah. Things like starving a wild dog for ten days and pitting it against a man. Or forcing people to beat each other to death… That kind of place.”

“Ha. That’s exactly the kind of filth they’d get into.”

“Didn’t surprise me either when I heard. Anyway, thanks to those assholes, getting through the east gate’s gonna be tough. They’ve got serious numbers.”

“Even so, we have to go. I’ll kill every last one of them if I have to.”

Abel barely held back the words: Even with a mage, the three of you won’t stand a chance. One of them wasn’t even a fighter, but a merchant.

He glanced at Lestel. Unexpectedly broad-shouldered and solid-looking, sure, but still a merchant. Probably not someone you could count on in a fight.

Sharhan must’ve had it rough.

Feeling a surge of sympathy, Abel silently patted Sharhan on the shoulder in encouragement.

“Did you find any food?”

He noticed Derry standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs, hesitant to interrupt. The question earned a gloomy response.

“Not a thing.”

Derry answered sullenly.

“Figures. First thing those factions did was go door to door with weapons and take all the food. I searched in case anything was left behind, but there wasn’t even a wilted herb. Remember when we first came to Verden, the tavern owner said he was half an apothecary? Said he made most of his own medicine.”

Sharhan nodded, recalling it.

“I think I remember that. He bragged about how much he’d learned about herbs during his mercenary days.”

“Right. No food left, but I was hoping to find some herbs. I was searching upstairs when I heard movement downstairs.”

Meaning he had hidden in the wardrobe in a panic.

“Is Ras badly hurt?”

Sharhan asked, concerned.

“He got into a scuffle a few days ago while out looking for food. Must’ve been an archer in the other group. Took an arrow to the shoulder, and with no medicine…”

Abel trailed off, face tense with worry. Archers were terrifying because they could strike unseen from a distance.

Even during the domain war with the Count of Arle, archers had been the biggest problem. Without them, the war would’ve ended far sooner.

“We’ve got a good stock of herbs. Let’s go together tomorrow and take a look. Derry knows a fair bit about herbs.”

Though he had built a mana core, being a mage wasn’t exactly a stable livelihood. So Derry had spent a lot of time studying herbs, hoping to make a living that way if necessary.

During their travels to Verden, he had scurried around gathering herbs like a squirrel hoarding acorns. You never know when you’ll need them, he had said.

It probably stemmed from the trauma of nearly losing Sharhan when he was badly injured. Since then, Derry had been determined to be prepared. Thanks to that, they had plenty of herbs in various types.

Abel looked at Derry, surprised. Derry nodded eagerly, affirming Sharhan’s words with his whole body.

“Thanks. Really, thank you.”

“Oh, come on. I’m part of the Red Wolves too.”

Lestel, who had been silently listening the whole time, finally spoke.

“If we’re done talking, let’s eat.”

“Yeah, we should.”

Sharhan rubbed his empty stomach and glanced at Lestel, who still looked off.

What’s with him? He’s been in a bad mood since earlier.

He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter how Lestel felt, but he couldn’t stop glancing his way.

“Got anything to eat?” Abel asked, swallowing his saliva.

“Not much, but we’ve got something.”

These days, eating three meals a day was a luxury. They’d been living on just breakfast and dinner, so they had a little left.

“I’ll go get it,” Derry said, beating Sharhan to his feet and rushing downstairs.

“There’s a full tub in the bathroom. Let’s wash up after dinner.”

“There’s water?”

Sharhan, who hadn’t bathed in days, lit up and headed for the bathroom. Sure enough, a tub big enough to sit in up to his chest was filled with water. Giddy at the sight, he returned to the bedroom, making Abel chuckle.

“Probably belonged to one of the Blue Deer higher-ups. The bed was used recently too, and the tub’s full.”

“Whoever it was, at least we get to wash.”

“You still love your baths, huh? Do you know how often your squad came whining to me when you nagged them to wash up? They’d complain, ‘What’s his deal, obsessing over hygiene on a battlefield?’”

“Doesn’t matter where you are. If you can wash, you should. You wanna stink like old sweat and filth?”

As they started reminiscing, Lestel cleared his throat. Sharhan glanced at him.

“Derry’s back. Let’s eat.”

Sure enough, Derry was coming up the stairs with food in his arms, dried fruit, jerky, hard bread, and a water pouch. The four of them shared it. The bread was so tough they had to soak it with saliva just to swallow, but it was better than nothing. Abel, clearly starving, devoured it despite feeling guilty.

Once their stomachs were full, they discussed bathing and sleeping arrangements. Abel spoke up first.

“I’ll sleep downstairs. You figure out the rest.”

“Why? The floor down there is freezing. We locked both doors.”

There was a bedroom upstairs, and the living room even had a carpet, far more comfortable.

“Just lend me a blanket. Someone should stay downstairs, just in case. It’s not a world where we can afford to feel safe.”

“Then let’s take turns, a few hours each.”

“No need. You gave me food. I’ll go.”

“Come on, we’re not strangers. Don’t worry about that–”

“This’ll do, right?”

Abel grabbed a blanket and headed down before they could stop him. He hated being indebted to anyone. Sharhan was an old comrade of three years, but Lestel and Derry were outsiders. Sharing their precious rations without offering something in return clearly bothered him.

Derry, as always, said, “I’ll sleep in the living room,” and wrapped himself up tightly in his robe.

“Your knees are bad. The floor’ll be cold.”

“If he says he’s fine, leave him. Let’s sleep.”

Lestel cut off Sharhan’s concern and pulled him toward the bedroom. Knowing Abel wouldn’t change his mind, Sharhan gave up and lay beside Lestel.

He let himself be embraced without resistance, but sleep didn’t come. His body was exhausted, but his mind only grew sharper.

“Can’t sleep?”

Sharhan hadn’t moved, just breathed quietly, but somehow Lestel knew.

“No. I’m worried.”

“About who? That Ras guy?”

Sharhan was actually lying awake because of the Filthy Crotches occupying the east gate. He’d known passing through Verden wouldn’t be easy, but this was worse than expected. Still, the completely unrelated name made him stare in disbelief.

“What? I mean, yeah, I am worried about Ra–!?”

Sharhan didn’t finish.

Because Lestel suddenly grabbed his cock.