Early the next morning, Ryan took Ellie to the tavern bright and early and picked up a skeleton-clearing commission from Evelyn.
The client was the headman of a small village, and the job site was just outside the city, only two or three kilometers' walk away.
Monsters of this sort weren't much of a threat, but they were terribly unnerving; they often spawned naturally near villages and had to be cleared out on a regular basis.
Most of the time the villagers handled it themselves, but it was the busy farming season now and they couldn't spare the hands to deal with the things, so they had no choice but to hire mercenaries from the city.
Given that the creatures were even easier to handle than goblins, Evelyn set the price at five copper apiece, which was reasonable enough.
Ryan yawned and looked over at Ellie, asking offhandedly, "How'd you sleep last night?"
"Fine," Ellie said, expressionless.
That was what she said, but a weariness lingered in her eyes the whole time; she might as well have written "exhausted" across her face.
Ryan shook his head. "Tell me the truth. I won't scold you."
Ellie's ears drooped, and she said, looking straight ahead, "I don't sleep well."
Ryan hadn't slept all that well either — to be exact, he hadn't had one good night's sleep since he crossed into this place.
The bed here was just a thin layer of straw over hard planks, as unyielding as a concrete floor; merely lying on it left your whole body aching.
At the thought, Ryan took out his purse and counted — only three silver and eight copper inside — and sighed.
Clothes and shoes for Ellie, a comfortable mattress to replace the bed — money was needed everywhere he turned...
"Bear with it a while. Once I've earned some money I'll buy you a few outfits and shoes first, then a decent bed." Ryan had four bare walls to his name right now, with expenses on every side.
Ellie shook her head and explained, "It's the same wherever I sleep."
"Why?"
Ellie's azure eyes were dimmer than the day before, as if veiled in a layer of dust that wouldn't wipe away. "So I can stay alert to my surroundings."
True, the slums weren't safe, but he'd locked the doors and windows, and an ordinary thief couldn't get in; staying on guard even while sleeping was going too far.
"What, are you keeping your guard up against me?" The corner of Ryan's mouth lifted, and he gave her a light nudge with his elbow. "Relax. I won't take advantage of you."
Ellie shook her head, indicating that wasn't the main reason.
After all, she'd dared to change clothes right in front of Ryan; she clearly wasn't worried about being taken advantage of.
"When I was little I drank a potion that keeps me alert even while I rest. The side effect is that I can't sleep deeply — I'm easily startled awake."
It sounded like some kind of oral stimulant.
Ryan couldn't help asking, "That amazing? Could I drink that potion? How long does the effect last?"
Ellie paused, then went on, "You could, but the side effects are severe. There's a fifty percent chance you'd die, and the effect lasts roughly until I die."
"The potion's poisonous?"
"For the vast majority of people, yes."
Ryan was momentarily lost for words.
After a silence he asked, "These potions — how many have you drunk in all?"
"A dozen or so kinds."
"All poisonous?"
Ellie nodded.
Ryan was curious just what Ellie had been through, so he kept asking, and Ellie answered each question one by one.
The training on White Mist Island was even crueler than the legends made out; every day she survived was hell.
Ellie said that out of a hundred slaves, usually only one survived.
The first thing a demi-human did upon being seized and brought to the island was drink an array of potions — potions that strengthened the body's functions while also carrying a deadly poison. After a dozen or so had been forced down, usually only three or four lucky ones survived.
The survivors gained extraordinary physical attributes from then on — endurance, explosive power, reflexes, eyesight, hearing, and mana capacity all far beyond an ordinary person's...
The dead, meanwhile, were thrown into the sea to feed the fish.
For the children who lived, this was only the beginning of the nightmare.
Next they underwent all manner of humanity-erasing training. At first the slavers forced them to torture and kill innocent little animals, and after that, living people.
All the while, twisted, perverse ideas were drilled into them to reshape their morals.
Through this process, many couldn't bear the torment of conscience and took their own lives; a failed suicide attempt earned an even harsher, crueler punishment...
Ellie recounted it all without expression, remembering every detail with perfect clarity. Just listening to her left Ryan feeling physically ill, and at last he couldn't help cutting in. "Stop. That's enough."
"All right." Ellie obediently shut her mouth.
A few steps later she suddenly threw out an arm to stop Ryan, a trace of killing intent in her sharp gaze, her fuzzy cat ears pressing slightly back.
Ryan looked toward the dense thicket beside the road and realized that, without noticing, he'd wandered into the zone where bandits most often lurked...
Commoners leaving the city mostly traveled in groups of three to five; with too few companions, some wouldn't even dare set out.
Someone like Ryan, with only a frail-looking woman at his side, made an easy mark for bandits.
"Bandits?" Ryan lowered his voice.
Ellie stared fixedly at the thicket, motionless. "Yes. Several of them."
In the old days Ryan would have turned and fled without question, but with Ellie at his side now he wasn't afraid in the least. "Kill them."
The words had barely left his mouth when two crossbow bolts shot from the thicket, streaking straight at their faces.
In a flash, the bolts were blasted apart by a gust of wind, and the weeds on both sides of the road were flattened by the pressure.
The bandits' figures appeared, knocked down by the wind and struggling to get back up.
The next second, invisible wind blades swept across their necks one after another, and the spraying blood, along with their heads, was carried off into the distance by the wind.
When the fight was over Ryan patted the dust off himself and remarked, "That magic of yours really packs a punch."
That blast just now had nearly deafened him.
"Clean and decisive work — that earns you praise. Tonight you've definitely earned an extra drumstick." As he spoke, Ryan walked toward the thicket and began gathering the spoils scattered about.
This band of bandits was quite poor — unkempt, filthy, and dressed in rags. A thorough search of their bodies turned up only fifty-odd copper, just enough to buy a dozen or so bowls of rye porridge at the tavern.
Ryan shook his head and gathered up the weapons scattered around.
Two old light crossbows, plus some rusty daggers and axes — these would fetch a bit of money too. With crossbows it was mainly the timber, which wasn't worth much, and the daggers could be ground down and reused; selling the lot for twenty silver shouldn't be a problem.
The bandits' clothes shouldn't go to waste either. Since Ellie had taken their heads clean off with magic, the clothes were intact; secondhand and bloodstained though they were, stripping them off would still bring a dozen or so silver at least.
Say what you will, but compared to diligently clearing monsters for money, killing bandits clearly paid faster — this brief spell of work earned three times what he'd made the day before.
"Good haul. Let's hide this stuff for now and pick it up on the way back." Ryan stuffed the things into a sack, then glanced around, his eyes finally settling on Ellie.
Ellie took his meaning. She crouched and lightly touched the ground with her hand, and at once a deep pit opened in the earth.
She pushed the sack into the pit, which was immediately buried under soil, leaving almost no trace of having been dug.
Ryan nodded in satisfaction. The money wasn't in hand yet, but he was already mulling over what to do with it once it was.
First, a decent set of clothes and shoes for Ellie.
As for the rest of the money...
Maybe... buy another slave?