The Regression Of A Grand Mercenary - 69 - Independent Boys - Part 3

“Hmm…from the looks of it, they didn’t do that bad of a job…” I said as I looked to the boys, looking proud at their achievement, but soon, my brows furrowed of what was about to happen next.

…But from here on out, their not going to be messing in with some low-level monster. Its going to take more than just a simple ambush to take on their next targets.”

Still…knowing them, I know they aren’t going to be the kind of warriors who would be stupid enough to forget the things I thought them. If they really watched how I did my work.…They’ll know what to do when it comes to fighting the next monsters.

…and maybe, they might surprise me in the end.

With that, I vanished from a lush tree I was hiding in and made my way to follow their next line of prey.

***

Mario’s POV

Harpies…from what we learned about their species from Captain, these creatures were more like birds than ordinary monsters.

Their bodies were light, almost hollow, which made them fast—terrifyingly fast. Their main form of attack wasn’t teeth, but claws—talons sharp enough to pierce armor and strong enough to grip prey so tightly that, once caught, escape was near impossible. Worse, they loved to drop their victims from the skies, letting gravity do the killing. A single mistake against them usually meant death.

They were hunters of the open skies. Swooping down at blinding speeds, like hawks catching rabbits. That speed, that momentum, was their greatest weapon. But in the forests? Among towering trunks and tangled branches? Their advantage was cut short.

And that was why we had chosen to hunt them here.

Scouts had confirmed ten nests scattered across the high boughs, each one guarded by shrieking mothers. More than twenty harpies in total. For fifteen of us, that number was nearly impossible to face head-on. Captain would never have given us such a task if there wasn’t a way to even the odds.

Thankfully, there was.

Birds, no matter how monstrous, carried one fatal weakness. Feathers. Dry, delicate, and in this bitter winter air—highly flammable. Fire was the weapon. One single spark was all it took to burn their fluffed feathers instantly. And once they are caught it flames, it won’t take long before they fall. A harpy is nothing more than a thrashing beast without its wings, and waiting for them on the floor was our sword.

Given this idea, we began our move.

I crouched low in a snow-laden bush, peering through the branches at the nests silhouetted high above. My breath fogged in the frozen air as I leaned close to Garon, the oldest among us, bow drawn and arrow nocked. His eyes were fixed, calm, experienced from years of hunting deer in the wilds.

“Are you ready?” I whispered.

He gave me a single nod, steady as ever.

I raised my hand, waited for the others to take aim, and then dropped it.

“Fire.”

And just like that, we fired.

Fourteen arrows streaked upward like fiery comets. They struck true, embedding into the woven nests of dried leaves and brittle branches. Instantly, flames caught. First a flicker, then a hungry roar. The dry winter air carried the fire like it had been waiting for this very moment.

The nests lit up the trees like blazing torches.

Screeches quickly erupted. Ear-splitting, frantic cries echoed across the forest. Harpies flailed their wings, trying desperately to beat down the flames with gusts of air. Some clawed at their nests, dragging half-burned eggs out in vain. Others tried tossing snow or shaking the branches to douse the fire.

But It was pathetic. Futile.

“Loose again!” I barked again just five seconds after the first fire.

Another volley of flaming arrows cut through the smoke, striking not the nests this time, but the frantic mothers. Feathers ignited at once and a bursts of orange started consuming their wings. It was a horriendous…but somehow divine sight. Like angels falling from the sky.

One by one, they tumbled from the canopy—flailing, screeching, their bodies writhing torches plummeting into the snow. The flames hissed where they landed, steam rising around them.

And once they landed, we then came from all directions and met them in the chaos.

Blades flashed. The first harpy shrieked as I split its neck before it could rise. Two boys drove spears through another’s chest, pinning it to the ground. A third clawed blindly through the snow, feathers still burning, until Garon’s arrow silenced it through the skull.

Five were dead in seconds, and the smell of scorched feathers stuck to my nose.

Above us, the nests continued to collapse, their foundations snapping as fire devoured the branches. Charred eggs dropped like blackened stones. Half-hatched chicks tumbled with them, shrieking pitifully before bursting in flames or being crushed on impact.

The forest floor was turning into a graveyard of ash and fire.

Some of the adult harpies also landed down on the snow, but when they fell on the ground…we knew we didn’t have to move. Their bodies were already so scorched, it was pointless to stick our blades down on them.

But then a new cry cut through the haze—a different one. Seven harpies who had been circling farther out now screamed in unison, spotting us below. Their grief turned to rage.

Their wings snapped open, blotting out the gray sky.

And all at once, they dove.

“Shields!” I shouted.

The boys snapped into motion. In one swift practice-born rhythm, we raised our wooden and iron-bound shields into a tight shell. The air itself seemed to split as the harpies slammed against us, claws scraping, wings beating hard enough to rattle the formation.

“Hold—hold!” I barked, feeling my own shield tremble as talons scratched deep grooves into it. One boy screamed as a claw slipped past his guard, dragging blood across his cheek.

The harpies didn’t relent. They struck, pulled back, struck again, wings whipping the snow into blizzards with every flap. Their screeches drilled into our ears, desperate and furious.

But we were ready.

“Now!” I roared.

From behind our shields, spears shot upward through the gaps like a forest of fangs. The harpies didn’t expect resistance from below—two were impaled instantly, their bodies thrashing as they were dragged down to the earth. The others veered away with startled shrieks, but the smell of burning feathers still hung thick from the nests we’d set aflame.

Garon loosed another arrow, and one harpy fell from the sky trailing fire like a comet. It landed screaming, only to be silenced by three blades hacking in unison.

But the fight wasn’t over.

One of the larger harpies dove straight at me. Its claws raked my shield, tearing wood apart like bark. The force nearly knocked me off my feet. I dropped the ruined shield, rolling aside just as its talons gouged the snow where I’d stood. Its wings beat so hard I staggered under the wind.

Sword in hand, I charged. It hissed, lunging low to snatch me, but I ducked beneath its swipe and drove my blade up into its chest. The shriek was so piercing my ears rang as it thrashed, trying to take me with it.

“Mario!”

Two boys rushed forward, spears stabbing again and again until the harpy collapsed, its blood steaming against the snow.

Panting, I pulled my sword free, hands shaking, but there was no time to rest. Another boy cried out—one harpy had snatched him, dragging him up into the air. He kicked and screamed, blade swinging wildly.

“Bring it down!” I roared.

Three arrows shot upward. One struck its wing, another pierced its neck from Garon’s shot. And almost immediately, the harpy dropped with a screech, and the boy fell with it, crashing into the snow. We swarmed them before it could rise again.

By the time the last harpy lay twitching on the ground, the forest was silent save for the crackle of flames from the burning nests above. Smoke curled against the white sky, carrying the smell of ash and charred feathers.

I looked around. Two boys were badly wounded—claws had cut through flesh and armor alike—but none were dead. Fifteen against twenty harpies, and we’d made it out alive.

I raised my sword, the steel still dripping black blood.

“Check the nests! Make sure nothing survives!” I ordered.

The boys spread out, tossing torches and flaming arrows into the last of the nests. One by one, the homes of the harpies burned, their shrieks fading into silence.

We didn’t just kill them. We erased them.

Standing amidst the smoke, I clenched my jaw. This was just our second battle, and already my arms ached, my chest burned, my throat tasted of ash. And yet… the list still wasn’t finished.

“Geez…this was one tough day.” I said.

And with that, I ordered the boys to retreat to the cave to rest.

***

Astin was waiting at the mouth of the cave when we returned. His eyes went immediately to the boys behind me, and the two who leaned heavily on the others for support.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“It went well… but not as well as I’d hoped,” I admitted, motioning to the injured.

He gave a curt nod. “We’ll have them treated right away. Get them to the back of the cave with the rest.”

Once they were led inside, I finally allowed myself to sink down by the fire. My body screamed for rest.

“Haa…” Garon sat across from me, his shoulders slumping, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. “This has been more stressful than I ever imagined.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, stretching my arms toward the warmth.

For a while, we listened only to the crackle of burning wood. Then, softly, he said, “…The things we did today—it’s nothing like hunting.”

I turned to him. “How so?”

“In hunting, the kill is clean. A trap, a shot, one strike. You take only what you need. But today…” His gaze lowered, haunted. “Today we burned part of a forest to wipe out a flock of harpies. The damage we left behind—it’s just… unbelievable.”

I exhaled slowly. “I get it. But maybe this much… this destruction… it’s the least we can do to live up to the Captain’s expectations.”

“His expectations…” Garon’s brow furrowed. “What even are they?”

I hesitated, then admitted, “I don’t know.”

He leaned closer, his voice hushed. “We signed up to be guards. Guards. Protecting the village from bandits and stray monsters—that’s all it was supposed to be. But the more we fight… the more we struggle… it feels like we’re doing far more than that.”

I had no answer. His words echoed in my own thoughts.

Because he was right.

The village had rarely seen major threats before. What I wanted most was simple—my mother safe, our home defended, our people free from raiders and beasts. That should’ve been enough. And yet, fight after fight, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It wasn’t just about the village.

Each battle scarred us. Each test stretched us further than we thought we could go. It was as though the Captain was shaping us into something else entirely. Soldiers for a war not yet here.

And the worst part?

I didn’t know if I wanted to resist it… or embrace it.

No—what am I thinking?

Of course I’ll embrace it. Whatever the Captain demands, he must have his reasons.

I lifted my head. “It may seem like too much, Garon… but when I think about it deeper, the truth is simple—we’re growing stronger. That’s the point.”

“…” He blinked at me, caught off guard.

“I’m sure your only doubting it right now since we’re all tired, but…this kind of effort doesn’t happen when we’re only inside our homes, resting about and living our lives. This is happening righ now because we were promised to become stronger…and we are.”

“…He’s right,” said Astin as he stepped closer to the fire, his shadow flickering on the cave wall.

“Really?” Garon asked, searching his face.

Astin nodded. “Some of us joined because we dream of becoming adventurers. To do that, we need guidance—real guidance. And Captain gave us that chance. He gave us the chance to bloom into what we’ve always wanted to be.”

Garon’s eyes lowered to the flames, his expression heavy with regret.

Then silence hung in the air.

“I only joined his company because…I wanted a proper wage. Being a hunter in the wild isn’t enough anymore. With how the world’s changing, and how we’re all slowly getting older and reaching a sense of our prime…I’m not sure if my livelihood is going to be stable any longer than it should. Unlike you or your families, my family came to the village with nothing but a small plot of land. We couldn’t live out as farmers like you guys…so we tend to something we were trained to do since we were young. Hunt.”

“…”

“I’m not a big dreamer…if anything, I just want to live my life without so much trouble. But I guess the world doesn’t just hand that kind of life to anyone. I guess…for anyone who has a dream, they come with a risk of facing problems.”

“…Right, that’s life. And in life, there are always problems. You can’t live life without problems. If you’re given anything in life without so much of a fight, then what is the point of living?” said Astin.

“Aren’t the nobles living that life right now? I’m pretty sure their inside their mansions, sipping their tea while having an orchestra sing to them in the background.” I said.

“I don’t think so. Even the rich have problems that us commoners can’t comprehend. I’m sure that if Captain were here, he would say to us that in life, suffering is the norm to living.” said Astin.

“That’s… really depressing,” Garon muttered.

“Yeah,” I added with a tired grin, “kind of is.”

“Shut up!” Astin snapped, his face flushing red as both of us chuckled.

The firelight flickered against the cavern walls, shadows stretching and shrinking with every crackle of the flames. For a moment, the heaviness that had clung to us all day seemed to loosen its grip.

“A-anyway,” Astin stammered, trying to mask his nerves with a shaky smile, “I’m sure you guys are just tired. Get some rest, and by morning, our heads will be clearer. Right?”

“Right,” I said, nodding, more to reassure him than myself.

“Tomorrow’s the last day, yeah?” Garon asked, his voice casual, but his eyes betraying the weight of the question.

“…Yeah.” Astin’s tone dropped into something grim. “And it’s going to be the roughest day of our lives.”

The words hung in the air like smoke. My mind wandered to the list we’d been given—the final challenges awaiting us.

Two two-headed ogres…

Five Thornhide Maulers…

And one Frostbound Colossus.

Big names. Big monsters. Big prey. Each one more terrifying than the last.

“Haa…” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Goodnight everyone.” with that, I went to my bed and rested.