The morning began with a boring awakening. The sun rose above the horizon, shining down through the thin fabric of their tents, forcing the light into their eyes, and eventually shaking them awake. The Freelance Gang, comprised of a fiery red-haired woman, a blonde strategist, a kind strongman, a young Spectre, and a new recruit—a white-haired boy with Moonlight magic; together, these five would—

Hey, don't forget Riley!

Right, yes. Riley, the wolf.

Together, these six awoke to the next morning, freed of all burdens that plagued their minds the prior night. With little to say and much to do, the first order of business was to begin packing up the camp.

Jessie: "Annie, could you put out the fire, please? We're almost ready."

Ann: "You've got it!"

Jessie: "Steven, Connie—are the tents all packed up?"

Steven: "All tents accounted for!"

Connie: "Looks like our belongings are stored, too."

Jessie: "John, Riley—you can—uhm."

John: "Yes?"

Jessie: "...Is that really all that you need? That small backpack?"

John: "It's all that I own!"

Jessie: "Right—then I suppose we're ready?"

Although the boy and his wolf had little to possess, it seemed as if they didn't need for much more than a backpack full of dried foods, general tools, and a bit of pocket money. With the cliffside camp completely stored away—most of the bags being carried by Steven—the Freelance Gang began their walk down the mountain, to the nearest village.

At a glance, this scene looked to be that of a large family traveling as one group. It was a gathering people related by blood, seeking adventure and riches, hand in hand. In truth, that initial appearance was not so far off from the objective scenario playing out before the world.

Though only Jessie and Ann were blood-related, the appearance of Steven and Connie as their extensions was not so unfamiliar. The core four of the Freelance Gang were, absolutely, a family. Adding on John and Riley to that, the familial look of the party was slightly less complete, but the bond between the boy and the wolf had started off very strong. The two of them, at least, could be considered family. With Ann's desire to protect those she cares about, somehow including John into the mix, it could be said that she was a part of John's family now, in the same way that Connie was after that debacle in the forest.

So, I guess if I were to rephrase it—this was an objective scenario of two differing families that mingled into one due to the affection displayed by certain members of the joint family. On one hand, there was Jessie and Ann, who had befriended Steven and Connie on their journey. On the other hand, there was John and Riley, who had found each other in their most desperate moments, and wished to protect one another. Joining the two families was the affection displayed between Connie and Ann, who projected their joint desire towards John. Riley, Jessie, and Steven were all outsiders to this joint family, simply sticking around due to circumstance.

Was that better?

I think you just gave everyone a headache...

I'll try better next time.

Jessie: "I'm sorry, did you need something?"

???: "Oh, well, it's just to make conversation! We've got to wait for the carriage to be ready in any case, so I thought—"

Jessie: "I do not require such entertainment."

???: "..."

Jessie: "..."

???: "Alright, but I'd still like to—"

Jessie: "Silence is not such a harsh environment. We do not need to flood it with sound."

Debating the strengths of silence was Jessie, who had been pestered by an elderly woman who owned the nearby stable. The party's descent towards the village had led them to gather transportation between cities, and this was the place that sold such transportation. While the two strongmen of the stable—likely to be the woman's grandsons or such—fetched the carriage of horses, Jessie had been left alone with the owner as they awaited the completion of the process. The rest of the party, none of which had gone with the grandsons, stood off by the entrance to converse about this and that.

It was Ann, Jessie's sister, who noticed the younger's distress and quickly trotted off to go help her.

Owner: "Are you sure there isn't anything you'd like to talk about? No, 'how's the weather down here?' or a friendly 'how was your day?'?!"

Jessie: "I have no desire for such feeble entertainment."

Owner: "—Wha—Why, how rude! How are you so heartlessly—"

Ann: "Hey, hey, hey~! How's my lovely sister doing~? And may I say, Miss, that we truly do appreciate the little discount you gave us on the horses~!"

Ann butted into the budding argument, diffusing the atmosphere with a sing-song voice and an optimistic attitude, though even that quickly diminished as she tried to remind Jessie of the graciousness the woman had offered them.

Ann: "You do remember that, Jessie~—RIGHT?!"

Jessie: "I—yes. I apologize for my rudeness."

Owner: "Oh, whatever. It doesn't matter anyway..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With the carriage retrieved, packed, inspected, and set off, the family of freelancers began their journey outwards, to the northeast. There was no clear direction or meaning—wherever the work was, it would find them. The only obstacle in their way before entering that endless plain of adventure was—

Steven: "Hm—? Oh, a checkpoint."

Connie: "All the way out here? Seriously?"

About a minute up the road, a trio of carriages with military-decor lined up into a blockage on the main road. It wouldn't be impossible to simply swerve around them—after all, this was an open dirt road in the middle of a grassy field—but there would be no point to it. The trust between humanity as a whole would prevent such a decision, and all that would be necessary in this situation is a slight bit of caution as the encounter approaches.

Steven: "Hey, Ann. We've got something here."

???: "What's that?"

Lifting herself through the carriage's interior, resting her head on her arms with the rest of her body phased through the roof, it seemed as if she were a little kid hanging off of a table lazily. With her head and arms poking out of the top of the carriage, looking onward, she spoke from behind Steven who had been at the reigns, and beside Connie who had sat at the front edge of the roof.

Ann: "That... doesn't look like a normal inspection."

Connie: "No, they're looking for something."

Steven: "Or someone."

Ann: "You don't think it could be—"

Connie: "It's not. John is fine, we all agreed to that."

The trio of carriages blocking the road were also guarded by quite a bizarre amount of soldiers trotting around with their horses. It wasn't unnatural for the Freelancers, nor anyone for that case, to assume that a manhunt had just began in the area. Out of all of the horseback riders, one man stood out the most to Ann. He was a man dressed all in royal garb, with simple metal plating stuck to his clothes like armor—such a way of protection was not uncommon in this world; in fact, it was very much the norm for simple plates of various hardened metals to be a person's only defense against the Monsters. 

To put it bluntly, if you survive the first attack, the second will only come quicker. Heavy-duty professionalized armor will do a person no good service if it restricts their movement, so simple plating that protects from stray hits or slashes is all that is necessary. Even for a royal member such as the striding man himself, as he rides along up to the Freelancers' carriage—the luxury of better armor is simply not something worth making.

In fact, there was one person among the Freelancers who bore the very same kind of armor, though to a bit lesser amount.

That was—

???: "Ah, and may I assume you are the one in charge here, Miss?"

Jessie: "You may, if it pleases you."

A woman with long blonde hair and a straight-sword hilted to her hip, wearing a simple white dress with crude metal plating covering her major hit points—the chest, the center back, the forearms, and the thighs. Of every battle that she had been a part of, those areas were the ones to targeted most often, even by inaccurate shots. Whether by man or beast, she had proven to herself that these places were the most pivotal to protect. When contrasting her visage to the royal man in front of her, it was clear which of the two had actually witnessed warfare, and that of the other's simple fear of the unknown.

Jessie: "Hm. Your armor is of better grade, but I would reconsider the positioning. And the amount..."

???: "Is that truly the way a lady should speak to a Prince?"

Jessie: "I neither know nor care for your rulings. We do not belong to any kingdoms whatsoever, especially in between jobs."

???: "Alright then, fair. I suppose it would be a bit too much to ask of you if I were to—"

Jessie: "On with the point, please."

Steven: "Damn...Be a little nicer to the guy, Jess! We've still got to get past these plains, you know?"

???: "You need not worry about any outbursts, I assure you. Whatever your answer is here, you will be free to pass through the road. That is the will of myself, the Prince of Ghithyan—Eugard."

Connie: "Ghithyan? Hey, isn't that—"

Ann: "Our next destination, yeah! Well—no, isn't that place a good week away from here?"

Eugard: "You're absolutely right, all of you. As you can probably surmise, there is a bit of a...situation. An escapee, to be precise. No, to be more precise, there's two escapees. A sibling duo."

Jessie: "Siblings?"

Jessie's face lit up at the exposed information. What it meant to her is unknown to me, but Ann seemed to take note of such an expression. It is likely that the pair of them bear some sort of soft spot for sibling duos, and if so, then they would be unlikely to aid the Prince before them.

Jessie: "Do you have any description of the siblings? Even one of them?"

Eugard: "Oh, just two dark-skinned siblings, running away from home. Black hair, blue eyes—oh, I'd say the brother must be pretty young, close to 10? That's all there is to it. It isn't an especially egregious offense, but their family shares quite a bit of authority within our walls. As the leading monarch of Ghithyan, it is my responsibility to answer to that authority out of respect, and bring the children back home before some Monster finds a new favorite dish."

Jessie: "How...noble of you."

Eugard: "Is that so strange?"

Ann: "We've honestly had quite a few run-ins with some crazy monarchs over the years..."

Eugard: "Oh, well that's just horrible! Well, I promise you that I am—"

Jessie: "We haven't seen them. Can we be on our way now?"

Eugard: "Uhm—"

The interjection seemed to startle everyone, with Jessie's cold and stern voice cutting through the atmosphere with a glance. In all fairness, it isn't her fault—

Ann: "My sister can be pretty forward sometimes...Ah, she's a sweetheart once you get to know her."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Prince didn't seem to have any further questions after Jessie's denial of witnessing the sibling escapees. There was no reason for him to doubt her, or any of them for that matter, and so he made good on his promise and promptly allowed them to pass through the makeshift checkpoint.

Ann popped back into the carriage about a minute later, once it was clear that their voices would go unheard from then on. Sitting all crawled up in a ball on the floor, hiding from the windows, was the little boy, John Ordano. He hadn't any reason to hide from the man, but since the Freelancers had been worried that he was their original target, they wished to hide him away as a precaution. Upon hearing the description of the sibling duo, however, John and Connie divulged an important piece of information to the rest of the Freelancers.

John: "I can't be completely sure, since he was the only one with darker skin there, but..."

Their faces both tracing the passing dirt road as the carriage rode on, it was clear that what they knew was limited, and yet crucial all the same.

John: "I think the kids we saved in the forest might have something to do with those escapees."

Though the little girl's fair skin was similar to Jessie and Steven's her "brother" shared a unique feature with that of the aforementioned escapees. It was a detail that John and Connie had taken notice of, but never bothered to mentally clock into the "important" category. That was—

Connie: "You know, he always seemed to flinch whenever Ira had called him her brother..."