SHLICK!
Roland drove his sword into the fallen Sam's chest one more time. After confirming he was truly dead, he staggered and collapsed to the ground.
As the adrenaline faded, his legs felt a little weak.
"Huu..."
Gasping for breath, Roland's fingers traced the dent on the iron plate over his chest. A wave of fear washed over him.
If not for this crude Heart-Protecting Mirror, the other man's Dagger would have pierced his heart before his own blade could even touch Sam's throat.
'Thank goodness my Basic Swordsmanship is at Full Level, and that I managed to injure his arm while he was fighting Sean. Otherwise...'
Recalling the life-and-death struggle just moments ago, Roland gritted his teeth and pushed himself up.
'I still lack real combat experience... If not for that, I should have been able to react to his desperate final attack...'
"Roland!"
He looked toward the voice and saw Sean stumbling toward him.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Roland slowly shook his head.
"What about you?"
"What could happen to me!"
Sean's eyes anxiously scanned Roland from head to toe. Only after confirming that every inch of him was unharmed did his tense shoulders relax slightly.
Before he could fully exhale in relief, a glimpse of the stiffening corpse on the ground caught his eye.
"He... he's dead?"
"Barring any surprises..."
Unlike the pale and bewildered Sean, Roland forced himself to remain calm. Stifling the acrid smell of blood, he went over to Sam's body and began to search it.
"What are you looking for?"
Sean's Adam's apple bobbed with a difficult swallow, his trembling voice barely coherent.
"He said he was hired by someone."
Roland continued his search without looking up.
"I need to see if I can find any clues..."
Although he was already certain that Marco was the mastermind, if he could find concrete evidence, Hawke's strict, professional nature meant he would definitely drive Marco out of the manor.
At this thought, Roland quickened his search and looked up.
"Sean, go stand watch. If anyone approaches, make sure to warn me right away."
"Got it!"
Sean took a deep breath to compose himself, tightened his grip on his Iron Sword, and walked away to keep watch.
'This is...'
Looking at the portrait of himself on the paper, Roland frowned and, without hesitation, tore it to shreds.
Next, a heavy, coarse cloth money pouch caught his attention.
The moment he opened the pouch, Roland's pupils contracted sharply.
"One, two, three..."
He counted softly, his fingers trembling slightly with excitement.
"A full eight Silver Coins!"
This was a huge sum of money!
After all, all the money he had on him amounted to just over a dozen copper plates.
After a long sigh, Roland set the money pouch aside and continued to search.
A moment later, he slowly shook his head.
'He was more careful than I thought... Didn't leave a single piece of incriminating evidence.'
Seeing Roland stop, Sean quickly walked over and asked in a low voice.
"Find anything?"
Roland shook his head, his brow furrowed, and spoke slowly.
"I didn't find any direct evidence, but besides Marco, I can't think of anyone else who would want to harm me."
"That son of a bitch!"
Sean roared in anger. With a SHING, his Iron Sword was drawn, and he turned to rush off.
"Stop!"
Roland grabbed his arm.
"Where are you going?"
"To kill that bastard!"
Sean's eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on the hand gripping his sword bulged.
"He dared to hire someone to kill you!"
"Calm down, Sean!"
Roland pressed down hard on his friend's trembling shoulders.
"Even if you do kill Marco, then what?"
"Think about Uncle Gary. Do you want him to live the rest of his life being cursed as 'the father of a murderer'?"
Sean's body went rigid and the tip of his sword slowly lowered, but the fire in his eyes had yet to fade.
"So we're just supposed to let it go? What if he tries again... Or how about this, I won't enlist. I'll go back to the manor with you and protect you."
His rough fingers gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Worst case, I fail the assessment and go back to inherit my father's butcher shop."
"There's no need for that, my friend."
Roland looked Sean straight in the eye.
"Marco's family is large and powerful. If he's truly set on killing me, not only will you be unable to protect me, you'll get yourself killed too."
"But if you enlist, stand out from the other soldiers, and win Lord Beckham's favor, heheh..."
At this, Roland chuckled lightly.
"Even if his father is a famous Blacksmith in Black Water Territory, he wouldn't dare to easily offend a Knight—not even a Knight's trusted confidant."
Seeing Sean still hesitating, Roland's lips suddenly curled into a smirk.
"What, you don't have confidence in yourself?"
"How could that be..."
Sean quickly retorted, his rough fingers unconsciously rubbing the hilt of his sword. A moment later, he resignedly accepted reality.
"Alright, my friend. Maybe you're right..."
"That's more like it."
Roland clapped Sean on the shoulder reassuringly.
"Besides, you said it yourself before. Marco wouldn't dare act so recklessly inside the manor."
"So what do we do now?"
"Let's bury the body first. And by the way, don't tell anyone about this, understand?"
"Of course."
Following the principle of not letting anything go to waste, Roland deftly stripped the worn Leather Armor off Sam's body. Together with Sean, they buried the corpse in a freshly dug pit.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Roland pulled the heavy money pouch from his clothes.
"Eight Silver Coins."
He shook the pouch, and the Silver Coins inside jingled crisply.
"We'll split it."
Sean's pupils constricted slightly at the crisp jingle of the coins, but in the end, he turned his face away and said in a muffled voice.
"You're the one who killed him. I..."
He kicked at a clump of dirt by his feet.
"I even had my sword knocked out of my hand."
Seeing his best friend stubbornly sticking his neck out, Roland sighed and instead thrust the Leather Armor and Dagger into his arms.
"Then take these. I have no use for this stuff in the manor."
Seeing the determined look in Roland's eyes, Sean didn't refuse again and started to put on the Leather Armor.
Just then, he let out a confused grunt and felt around the inner lining of the armor.
"This is... My friend!"
Hearing the call, Roland, who was checking the surroundings for anything they might have missed, turned to look.
He saw Sean pull a roll of yellowed parchment from a hidden layer in the Leather Armor. Its edges were stained with dark brown blood.
"Er... this..."
Sean scratched his head and awkwardly handed over the yellowed parchment.
"My friend, you should take a look. I can't read all the words on it..."
Hearing this, Roland's brow furrowed slightly as he took the ancient-looking parchment.
The surface of the paper was yellowed and wrinkled, the ink faded badly.
He had to squint and bring it close to make out the blurry script.
Time passed in silence.
Roland would sometimes frown, sometimes purse his lips, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the edge of the parchment.
Finally, he spoke hesitantly.
"This seems to be... a formula for some kind of Potion?"