On the snow path, a little bit of footprint follows.

The boy snorted very slightly and slowly walked out in the direction pointed at him when he asked the way out of the city.

The cloak is flaky and slippery here and there.

A solo journey for a boy who's not even this old.

That's enough to interest people.

But above all, what catches the eye is a long sword carried on the back, disproportionate to the child.

Anyone around here who just sees it understands that this boy is from the North.

An unfamiliar boy who came into the middle plains from the north.

Nevertheless, it is extremely rare for such a child to reach this city alone through a harsh northern winter.

In this city facing the Strait of Menover.

The Strait of Menover, which separates the North from the Middle Plains, is also known as the Strait of the Water Dragon because of the intensity of its tide.

The complex and strange tidal currents, sometimes misread by even skilled sailors, have swallowed up numerous ships, large and small, to date.

season, time, weather, something else.

Whatever the reason, the tide flow yesterday is as if it were different from the tide flow today, etc., which was a daily tea meal in this strait.

In addition, a rocky reef lurking all over the strait inhibits the ship's path.

The presence of this strait is arguably the biggest reason why the northern wars did not spill over to the Middle Plains.

Even the present king of the kingdom of Foretta, the great power of the Middle Plains known with ambition, never risked leading a great army to cross the Strait of Menover.

The mercenaries are greedy enough to cross this strait to the north.

Dreams of birth are still rolling on the northern battlefield.

There is a chance of a one-shot reversal that builds up across the hierarchy, which is not found in the developed middle and southern countries of the social and identity systems.

But even that tends to interrupt here these days.

Have the willing people crossed over? Or did the ongoing fighting also develop the mercenaries' fighting skills, leaving no room for new faces to enter?

In any case, little more could be seen of ships carrying mercenaries coming and going through the Menover Strait.

Very rarely, small merchant ships just bring northern information.

The boy had been aboard a ship that had not arrived from the north for a long time on this day.

I wonder where you're going.

Aren't you even related over here?

I hope the bandits don't attack me.

The season was about to spring, but the city, which is the northern limit of the Middle Plains, still sees leftover snow there.

On the snow, the city people rumored that way after dropping off the boy's back as he walked away with his little footprints carved.

And I immediately forgot.

Two days' walk south of the port town facing the Strait of Menover.

A small lodging town along the street.

One liquor store that combines a traveler's inn.

The door slammed from the outside was the evening when the sun was about to fall.

When my husband opened the door, a thin dirty cloak boy stood alone.

On his back, he looks unusual carrying a long sword that doesn't match his back length.

"... what, kid"

My husband looked behind the boy.

No one.

"You, alone. What do you need a kid for alone?"

"... stay here"

The boy said blush.

"... I have money"

"Ah?"

My husband peeled off his eyes. A boy sticks out a silver coin at the tip of his nose.

"I have money."

The boy said it again.

My husband glanced at the boy from his toes to his head.

Then I stared at that face.

Even the boy didn't turn a blind eye.

After doing so for a long time, my husband finally said.

"Do you have money?

The boy snorts.

"... I can't stay. Get lost."

"Ah?"

The boy's expression gets harsher.

"I have money."

"Didn't you hear that? I said I can't stay."

My husband closed the door with the boy's nose tip.

It was that night that my husband heard about that strange boy from regular guests.

A creepy kid with a knife on his back is sleeping under a tree in the corner of the square, refused by every inn.

It's getting cold tonight, so maybe it'll snow back in the winter.

That kid could be getting cold tomorrow, too.

The evening changed for the most part, and when the guests were gone, my husband turned to the square with a lamp.

The snow is starting to tingle.

It's not as cold as it accumulates, but it's stabbing cold.

The boy sat down to lie at the root of the tree.

He is shaking softly in his cold cape to his head.

But when I notice my husband's footsteps, I react quickly and only cloak him, putting my hand on the pattern of the long sword.

"What are you gonna do with that?"

My husband stopped slightly away from the boy and spoke so.

"You knew. I had money here, and nobody's gonna let you stay."

The boy stares at his husband. Strong suspicion and vigilant eyes. I never take my eyes off my husband's every step of the way.

"Do you know why?"

To my husband's inquiry, the boy remains silent.

"Follow me."

As his husband walks out with his heels back, the boy stares at his back.

Eventually, I felt like my husband seemed to have no sign of looking back, and it was time to start walking behind it.

Drinking up the hot soup finally gave the boy a raw redness on his face.

"Is it good"

My husband asks without even a dust.

The boy remained silent staring at his husband, but eventually nodded small.

Then, he clumps the leather bag he was putting on his body, removes the silver coin, and silently sticks it out to his husband.

"... I told you I don't need it"

My husband said.

"I'm not taking money from the kid."

To my husband's answer, the boy's face is distorted from question to question.

"We were just short on manpower."

My husband said.

"That soup is expensive. Start working here tomorrow."

Run wild or run away in silence.

My husband had stepped on it that way, but unexpectedly, the boy honestly slept in the crude bed in the lofty room and started working in this inn the next morning.

The boy spoke very little but what was necessary.

When you talk from time to time,

"This."

And so on. Don't bluff. I held my mouth.

Each time my husband,

"Is this it?"

Corrected.

The boy was smarter than his husband expected.

I learned everything I was told to do at once.

After three days, I started doing most of the work of the inn.

But only its suspicious and alarming eyes remained unchanged.

Hey, kid. Don't work so hard.

One day, one of the regular customers of the tavern spoke to the boy.

The boy keeps his job in silence.

Well, I know how he feels. You look alike.

Regular customers spoke the name of their husband's son, who died with his wife a few years ago from an epidemic disease.

Try coming back. Oh, my God, my son.

From that day on, the boy's attitude softened a little bit.

The low mouth count was the same, but something like a stinging killer disappeared from his expression and tricks.

From time to time, the boy began to call his husband "uncle".

One day a line of nobles stayed in this inn for a sudden matter.

Everyone in the regular guests was in danger of the boy working disrespectfully, but the boy responded with words that were polite enough to keep an eye on his husband as well.

I can calculate the numbers, and he's a well-educated kid.

Regular guests told me, and my husband nodded silently.

Once, my husband asked the boy where you were on your way.

The boy has few words, just...

"South."

I replied.

A month has passed since the boy came to the inn.

Mordo, someone knocked on the inn door.

He was a man living in the neighborhood.

Mordo came out.

My husband's complexion changed to the man's words.

When my husband accompanied the boy to a house outside the city, livestock had been devoured tragically in that garden.

Everyone's been hit in the house.

A man said, and my husband told the boy, Don't you look.

Contact the City Soldiers.

The man nods with a dark face at his husband's words.

It would take three days round trip to get the use out. I hope the next damage is done by then.

The boy accidentally said he was going back to the inn that day.

"Uncle."

My husband sees the boy.

"It's time to go"

The time has come to travel, the boy said.

"Right."

My husband nodded. That will be enough.

"Okay."

Tell him to tell me.

"Excessive killing or suspicion you were putting together. That would have been what it took to live in the north. But from here on out, we don't need it in the Middle Plains or the South."

That's why nobody could keep you at the inn, my husband said.

"That's totally soothing over the past month. You'd be able to stay in any inn right now. When talking to people, don't forget to be polite."

My husband looked straight into the boy's eyes.

"I guess I've been properly taught by my parents, don't embarrass my parents"

"Yes."

The boy nodded honestly.

Then the boy, the mercenary of the north, goes on.

"I'll return the favor I received."

I want you to wait one more day, leaving me, and the boy went into the woods outside the city with his sword on his back.

The next day, the boy returned with his big beast neck hanging.

The whole city became noisy.

Because it was Mordo's neck, a warcraft that attacked a house outside the city.

"You hunted by yourself."

The boy showed Mordo's neck to his distraught husband, and then threw it on the ground unconstitutionally.

"Thank you for your help"

said the boy.

"Soup, it was delicious"

And I try to turn my back.

When he stopped the boy, he hurried back to the inn and brought a leather bag.

It's something I've been preparing for a long time.

"Take it."

Hand it to the boy.

A boy shakes his head when he sees the amount of mobile food and silver coins that were packed inside.

"I can't receive this much"

"It's goodbye. If you don't take it, I'll dump it here."

My husband said.

"It's a long way south. Be careful."

"Yes."

The boy bowed his head deeply to his husband.

"My name is Almark. One day, I will be grateful."

"I don't mind. Good luck."

To his waving master, the boy said at the end.

"Thank you...... uncle"

Then he turns his heel and walks out.

Spring grass was starting to sprout on the road with little snow left.

The boy eventually disappeared across the road.

My husband stared at the boy's walk away forever.