Translator: Nox

Erika: My Friend Is Obsessed with Me

Chapter 12

She raised her bow at once.

Screeech— She drew the bowstring back in a long, taut pull.

Her eyes darted swiftly, zeroing in on a wyvern.

‘…….’

In her mind, she counted the arrows remaining in her quiver.

Hit every single one, then draw the short sword strapped to my thigh and leap into the sky.

If I do that—

‘I can take down more than him.’

A burning competitive streak.

The innate urge to win coursed through her veins, blazing to life.

She had to win this. Losing meant absolute humiliation.

* * *

Erica was a total wreck.

Her clothes, her hair, her mind—all of it.

She had slightly botched her landing, tumbling down the hillside a few times as a result.

‘Thought my spine was going to snap.’

She patted her lower back repeatedly.

She made excuses to herself, blaming the pitch-black night sky after sundown for the misstep.

The moment both feet planted firmly on solid ground, exhaustion hit her all at once. She hadn't intended to go this hard on her very first day.

Given that she had flown around looking ready to wipe out every last wyvern in Lygis, she ought to march straight to the local lord and demand a medal of honor.

Of course, wyverns were in no danger of going extinct.

High up in the sky, they were still shrieking and screeching at the top of their lungs.

There were simply too many of them to begin with.

Their nests were hidden all over the deep mountain ranges, and above all, having no natural predators in the vicinity meant Lygis might have to coexist with wyverns forever.

Even so, regular culls were necessary to protect civilian settlements.

It was rewarding work, in its own way.

Subjugation quests were five hundred times better than flimsy requests like escorting merchant caravans.

So, since she had wrapped up a rewarding day's work—

“Beer, beeeer……!”

She needed a drink.

She had to head to the inn right this second, wash up till she was squeaky-clean, and chug an icy-cold beer to bring herself back to her senses.

Erica hurried her steps. The sun had set, leaving everything pitch-black.

Crackle—

Braziers burned brightly in front of the Lygis Gorge Wyvern Response Team's temporary barracks.

This was where daily wages were settled.

When she stepped into the settlement tent, another mercenary was already there getting processed.

It was a familiar back of the head. Dark navy hair, deep as the midnight sky.

It was the man who had brought up that wager in midair earlier.

‘What was his name again?’

She had half a mind to stroll up, smack him hard on the back of the head, and say hello, but since she couldn't remember his name, she just walked over at a leisurely pace.

“……Not sure, maybe thirty?”

At the voice coming from ahead, Erica paused.

“Oho, thirty? You took down thirty all on your own? You're not bluffing, are you?”

“I got too caught up in the thrill midway through and forgot to count. I can't say for certain.”

“Very well. We'll count them at sunrise when we recover the carcasses. Well, well, thirty beasts, you say…….”

Thirty? Did he just say thirty?

Heheh. I won.

Forcing down the grin tugging at her lips, she took another step forward. Her mood shot right through the roof.

“Erica, here for settlement.”

Thud. She produced her S-rank mercenary plaque.

Then she glanced up at the man beside her.

Their eyes met.

“You're late.”

“Late? What do you mean late? I got here the second the sun went down.”

“Your name is Erica? That's cute.”

“……What was your name again?”

“Chaud.”

“Right. Your name is so weird I couldn't remember it.”

“First time I've ever heard that.”

Chaud brushed his hair back from his forehead and chuckled. It was a hearty laugh born of pure absurdity.

Then, as if it were only natural, he asked,

“How many?”

“More than you.”

Erica crossed her arms with utter confidence and glared up at him.

Chaud was tall, with a broad, heavily muscled frame to match.

Erica had to tilt her head all the way back just to meet his downward gaze.

The sheer difference in build might have intimidated anyone else, but she didn't feel the slightest bit outmatched.

Because I hunted more! Which means I won!

“More wyverns than me?”

“Yeah! I took down a whole—”

“I lose.”

“…….”

“Let's go, drinks are on me.”

“……?”

I haven't even told you my count yet.

Conceding defeat without even checking properly?

“…….”

It felt strangely irritating. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

“What? Don't tell me you don't drink?”

“……Who said that?”

I'd drink until the barrels run dry.

Who in their right mind would turn down free booze? She had no reason to refuse, and she had been craving a cold beer anyway.

“……You just made a huge mistake.”

Erica clasped her hands haughtily behind her back, tilting her chin up as she gave him a pointed look of warning.

“You might have to spend your entire day's earnings just covering my tab, you know.”

Erica was a habitual bluffer.

Her actual alcohol tolerance was no bigger than a chick's teardrop, but she loved drinking so much that she genuinely believed she could hold her liquor.

“Well, if you run out of cash halfway through, I don't mind helping you out.”

“Sounds like you can handle your drink.”

“Obviously.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Chaud replied in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether he was being serious or teasing her.

With his lowered gaze, he certainly didn't look like he was taking her seriously.

“…….”

On the table before the two of them.

Scratch, scratch.

A pen nib scribbled across parchment in a strictly businesslike rhythm.

The bespectacled Lygis settlement clerk was swamped with work.

He processed the mercenary quest compensation paperwork and brought a confirmation stamp down with a heavy thud.

Then, he slid forward the mercenary plaques now that their identities had been verified.

Clack. Two mercenary plaques rested side by side on the desk.

[Erica]

*Rank: S-rank

*Affiliation: Pechenik Mercenary Group

*Guild: Southern Guild

*Specialties: Melee Combat, Ranged Combat, Scouting, Monster Subjugation, Escort, Transport, Gathering, Tracking, VIP Rescue, Naval Combat

[Chaud]

*Rank: S-rank

*Affiliation: -

*Guild: Eastern Guild, Central Satellite City Guild

*Specialties: Melee Combat, Ranged Combat, Scouting, Monster Subjugation, Escort, Transport, Gathering, Tracking, Strategic Command, Interpersonal Combat

The clerk naturally assumed the two were a 'pair'—regular mercenary partners.

It was only reasonable to think so, considering both were S-rank mercenaries belonging to the continent's top one percent, with nearly identical lists of specialties running down their plaques.

‘……Why do they both have so many specialties?’

Usually, having one to three was the standard.

A specialty could only be engraved once verified by the guild holding jurisdiction. In other words, it meant the guild officially guaranteed the holder's mastery in that field.

Even for a seasoned clerk, it was the first time seeing such an illustrious mercenary plaque. Much less two at the exact same time.

“Raud.”

“It's Chaud. That's the third time I've told you.”

“Right, Chaud. That tone of yours and the way you look down on people—you must hear all the time how obnoxious it is, don't you?”

“First time I've ever heard that, too.”

“Liar. What are you, a pathological fibber? You've heard it until your ears bled, haven't you?”

“Fibber…… Wow. Honestly, that's the first time in my life I've ever been called that.”

“How has no one ever told you that before? Have you never met people your whole life, or are you some kind of shut-in who struggles severely with basic social—”

“Hardly. I worked as a mercenary in the East for a long time. But really, you're the first person to ever say such bizarre things to me.”

“Excuse me, are you calling me bizarre? The more I listen, the more ridiculously rude you get.”

Bickering and bantering back and forth.

The clerk had no way of knowing that these two, acting like friends of ten years, had only met today.

“…….”

He just wished they would take their mercenary plaques and get out already.

* * *

The village inn.

The first floor served as a dining hall and tavern, while the second floor and above housed guest rooms.

It was the standard inn layout one could find anywhere.

Being late in the evening, the first floor was packed with patrons. Drinking bouts had long since broken out at every corner.

A table by the wall was no exception.

“……*Hic*.”

A pile of empty liquor bottles already cluttered the tabletop.

Rattle— Another bottle rolled away, bone-dry.

“You're pretty good, huh?”

A tipsy Erica pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Sitting across from her, Chaud rested his chin in his hand and watched her antics.

“You were pretty impressive yourself.”

They were talking about entirely different things.

Erica was referring to Chaud's formidable alcohol tolerance.

And Chaud was referring to the mesmerizing sight of Erica slaughtering wyverns up in the sky.

For a while, the two did nothing but gaze at each other, taking turns tipping back their drinks.