Joining the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group

The next day.

Gagnor was having breakfast on the first floor of the inn when Ryan came in from outside, ordered a drink, and sat down across from him.

"So, what do you think? Not bad here, right?"

Gagnor nodded, then asked, "Ryan, I'm thinking of joining the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group. Any advice?"

Ryan wasn't surprised by this. He pondered for a moment. "I'm not sure what your combat abilities are like, but I'd guess... you might not meet the requirements for the mercenary group's long-term combat contract."

"Long-term combat contract?"

Ryan pointed to his shoulder insignia. "Sign this contract, and you're a full member of the Gray Hawks. For thieves, you need to be at least level two to qualify for a long-term combat contract, and it's about the same for hunters. If I'm not mistaken, you're probably at level one hunter combat ability."

Gagnor wasn't sure if he could be considered a level one hunter by guild standards. He thought for a moment. "What are the benefits of a long-term combat contract? What are the restrictions?"

"According to the basic terms of the contract, the mercenary group provides soldiers with food, lodging, basic equipment, medical care, training... and a monthly salary of eight silver coins," Ryan said. "Of course, there are extra subsidies during combat, five to thirty copper coins per day, and a death benefit of one hundred and twenty silver coins."

"As for the restrictions, or rather, obligations," he paused, "it's the soldier's duty—to obey orders."

After listening to Ryan's explanation, Gagnor fell silent.

It was about what he had imagined.

The benefits were decent enough, but the "obey orders" part was a bit too off-putting for him.

Just then, Ryan suddenly changed the subject. "Can you make Healing Stones?"

Gagnor nodded.

"What about Pain Relief Potions?"

"I can make those too."

"Rage Potions and Swiftness Potions?"

"I've learned about them in books, but I've never made them myself."

Ryan smiled. "In that case, you can choose a non-combat contract and join the mercenary group as an apothecary. The pay is much higher than for soldiers, and you don't have to take on combat duties."

Gagnor: "What if I want to participate in combat?"

Ryan was a little surprised. He thought for a moment. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever heard of an apothecary who actively wants to fight... but if you really want to, it might be possible."

He couldn't help but ask, "But why would you want to? You don't seem like a war fanatic."

Gagnor: "I just think that an apothecary who only quietly makes potions will never become someone who is admired."

Ryan: "You can develop into an alchemist. Herbalist, apothecary, alchemist—many famous alchemy masters have come up that way."

Gagnor had to change his tune. "Okay, I admit I have a bit of a war fanatic in me."

"Hmm, you really can't judge a book by its cover," Ryan shrugged. "But combat can indeed make people grow quickly. Anyone with ambition won't avoid it."

The two chatted about other things.

Before leaving the inn, Gagnor suddenly remembered, "By the way, since the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group has long-term combat contracts, does it also have short-term combat contracts?"

"Of course. In fact, whenever there's a dangerous mission, the mercenary group goes to Raven Street to sign a batch of short-term combat contracts." Ryan lowered his voice. "I heard the magistrate say that the security in South Sea Town always improves as a result."

"..." Gagnor didn't know what to say.

"Come on, I'll take you to the camp."

Although the Gray Hawks were a mercenary group, they only provided services to non-hostile forces in Nordanlun. In many ways, they were similar to the duchy's regular army and had their own permanent base.

Led by Ryan, the two arrived at the Gray Hawk camp.

The first thing that came into view was a rather large training ground, followed by several buildings arranged around it.

From Gagnor's perspective, the layout was a bit like a middle school campus he often saw in his previous life, and the area was about the same size.

The biggest difference was that the Gray Hawk camp was inhabited by a group of Falaro mercenaries, and the sound of weapons and armor rubbing together could be heard everywhere.

Walking through the Gray Hawk camp, Gagnor looked around, and suddenly his gaze froze, looking into the distance.

A flash of fiery red caught his attention.

He looked closely and saw an exceptionally tall warrior wielding a greatsword in the training ground. His movements were fluid, and the fiery red was his flying long hair.

This swordsman, who was definitely over two meters tall, was like a fiery storm, particularly eye-catching.

Unfortunately, it was a bit far away, and there were many onlookers blocking his view. In addition, the other party's movements were extremely fast, and Gagnor couldn't see anything clearly, and wasn't even sure if the weapon was actually a sword.

Gagnor followed Ryan to a room.

The room was dark, and a tall, thin, short-haired man in black was standing with his back to the two of them, seemingly looking at a map on the wall.

"Chief," Ryan said respectfully.

The man in black didn't speak.

Ryan seemed used to this and continued directly, "This is my friend Gagnor. He's the one who saved me last time. Gagnor is an excellent apothecary, and he wants to join the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group through a non-combat contract."

The man in black finally reacted. He turned around, his eyes, shrouded in shadow, looking at Gagnor.

Gagnor couldn't see his eyes, but he still felt a chill, as if the other party's gaze had some kind of deep penetrating power.

"Have you handled Everlasting Moss?"

"No," Gagnor answered truthfully. He had only seen herbs of this level in books; even Priest Green probably hadn't seen the real thing.

"Do you have a pharmacist's badge?"

"No, I don't..."

The man in black was silent for a moment. "Draw up the contract according to the standards for a Level 1 pharmacist."

"Yes."

Ryan led Gagnor out of the room.

Once outside, back in the light of day, Gagnor suddenly realized that his forehead was covered in a light sweat. He couldn't help but ask, "Is he the leader?"

"No, Night Owl is the vice-captain in charge of intelligence," Ryan added. "He has superior darkvision; nighttime is no different from noon for him."

Gagnor asked, "Do you know his class level?"

"Should be a Level 6 Rogue."

The two arrived at another building nearby.

A slightly chubby, bald man bickered with Ryan for a few words, then reluctantly tossed a contract in front of Gagnor. "Here, sign it, Mr. Level 1 Pharmacist without a pharmacist's badge."

Gagnor carefully read the contract.

Fifteen silver coins per month, with room and board included.

The job was to produce a certain number of Healing Stones and Pain Relief Potions for the mercenary group each month, with no combat obligations.

He hesitated for a moment. "If I want to actively participate in some battles, what should I do?"

The bald man said, "Whatever you want."

Gagnor said nothing more and immediately signed his name, officially joining the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group.