Mercenary System: I can increase innate potential !

Chapter 83 Ambush!

"If you don't have any weapons, we can lend you a few that we originally used as reserves."

After Maxime's words, the new mercenaries dispersed to get ready.

Maxime remained in the same spot for a while, admiring and contemplating the beauty of nature.

Evening soon arrived.

The mercenaries shared a final meal with the villagers, in a much more subdued atmosphere than the day before. Everyone seemed to sense that the tranquility of this village might be the last they would experience for a long time to come.

In the early hours of the morning, as the first rays of sunlight barely pierced the horizon, Maxime roused his men in a firm voice.

They silently donned their gear, feeling the growing tension as they prepared to set off into the unknown.

The twelve new recruits, just turned mercenaries, exchanged glances full of determination and excitement.

For the first time in a long time, they felt a new strength rising within them, a possibility of a different future.

Maxime, with his impassive air, continued to observe them, gauging each of their faces as if to read their thoughts. After a moment, he motioned to Ernest and Andrew to take charge of the newcomers' equipment.

"Can you take care of equipping them? Find them suitable weapons, even makeshift ones. We're not going on parade."

The two mercenaries nodded and guided the recruits to a shelter that had been hastily built during their short stay in the village.

They had stored a dozen swords, 3 axes and 2 pairs of daggers.

At first glance, this looked rather poor, but that was to be expected since the mercenaries traveled without transport mounts.

They carried everything themselves.

Garen saw a heavy, thick sword, and as if it exerted an irresistible attraction for him, he seized it and raised it with a clumsiness that drew a grimace from him, but he tightened his guard, ready to tame it.

He felt it was a weapon made for him.

Lira, for her part, opted for two daggers, which she quickly twirled between her fingers with natural assurance.

But Jean couldn't find the right weapon for him.

Instead, he stared longingly at the bow on Ernest's back.

"Do you want to learn to shoot a bow?" asked Ernest, noticing his gaze.

"Yes."

But Ernest was rather embarrassed, although it wasn't noticeable among saber-toothed tigers and in remote villages, there was a strong misconception in this world for those who wielded the bow.

They were seen as cowards who shot from a distance in surprise and fled at the first opportunity.

"If you learn to shoot with a bow, you won't be as good as the others in hand-to-hand combat."

"That also means you'll be despised all your life, unless you one day become strong enough that no one can despise you anymore."

But Jean had no doubts about his choice.

He felt the bow was particularly suited to him.

"Fine, I'll lend you my spare shortbow, but take a short sword anyway to defend yourself."

Jean nodded, pleased that his wish could actually be granted.

The other new recruits were much more indecisive about their choice of weapons, and dabbled a bit with everything before finally opting for classic long swords.

Observing the scene from afar, Maxime squinted and pondered.

"Could it be that people with talent instinctively know what suits them best?

"How strange..."

While the new recruits were being fitted out and the mercenaries were offering their first advice, Maxime joined Rodrigo and Romuald, who were also observing the scene from afar.

Romuald looked at Maxime, slightly worried.

"We're taking a risk, Maxime, taking them on board with us."

Maxime nodded.

"Yes, but it's also a gamble. Some of them have exceptional talents that will prove useful. I didn't include them out of pity."

Rodrigo and Romuald were surprised.

"How exceptional?" asked Romuald out of curiosity.

"Not as strong as Charles, Henry and Ultia, but stronger than most mercenaries, including you two."

Both were happy to learn that there were talented recruits, as it meant that the power of their mercenary group would increase in the future and so their chances of survival would improve too."

Shortly afterwards, the Sabertooth Tigers, now slightly reinforced by 12 new recruits, prepared to leave the village.

A solemn silence hung in the air as everyone tightened the straps on their equipment.

Without another word, he raised his arm to give the signal for departure, and the mercenaries, old and new, set off down the road to the cheers and applause of the Ventbois villagers.

"Come back and visit us whenever you like!"

"If you're ever in the area again, feel free to drop in and sleep in the village!"

Most of the mercenaries also raised their hands in farewell.

"Garen, don't get smart on the battlefield and above all keep a low profile, you've got to survive!"

"I'll survive count me in!" replied Garen, raising his left fist to the sky.

"Lira, Terry, avoid making too much noise at night!"

"Also avoid having children too soon!"

"Is it clear, Lira can hear you? You need to accumulate a lot of money first before you get pregnant to take good care of your future children!"

Terry and Lira, who were coincidentally standing side by side while saying goodbye, were suddenly embarrassed.

But Terry quickly caught himself and replied.

"Don't worry, I'll see to Lira's safety!"

Hearing this, the villagers were happy and started whistling with joy.

"Jean, you have to survive too! When you all come back to the village we'll have a big party!"

"Count me in, I'll even pay for all the booze!" shouted Jean generously in response.

Suddenly a high-pitched, childlike voice was heard loud and clear.

"So the world can die but not Jean, alcohol is sacred!"

The little joker who had emerged from the crowd was pulled by the ear by his mother and scolded on the spot, making the villagers laugh on the spot as well as the mercenaries in the distance.

And so the march began, the difference between the silhouettes of the experienced mercenaries and those of the new mercenaries clearly visible.

Time passed quickly as the more experienced explained to the newcomers some of the basics of mercenary life and the things to watch out for.

Along the way, they took a few breaks to allow the old villagers' physique to improve rapidly.

So when evening came, Lira, Garen and Jean were all very tired.

Fearing to attract orcs, they didn't light a fire that night, and simply ate dried meat and went to sleep in their tents.

It was a special night for the new mercenaries, who were filled with various thoughts all night long, except for Garen, who fell asleep all at once.

The next morning, the saber-toothed tigers advanced across an extremely vast plain.

The atmosphere became progressively tense, for although they could not be ambushed, they were also extremely visible from afar.

Maxime led the way, flanked by Andrew and Romuald, keeping his senses on the alert.

Henry, Ultia, Terry and James brought up the rear.

The new mercenaries were all in the middle, surrounded by the experienced mercenaries.

Soon they reached a valley with lots of vegetation, raising the tension in the group.

A slight movement suddenly caught Jean's attention.

"Hey Garen, I'm sure I felt something in that tall grass."

The latter was surprised, but clearly didn't believe his friend.

"Don't worry, if there really is something there, it wouldn't be your turn to notice."

But Jean wasn't reassured, he really felt there was something, but yet he saw no change on the faces of the stronger mercenaries.

Taking courage in both hands, he suddenly ran towards Maxime, surprising everyone.

He whispered to Maxime, his voice tense:

"Something's moving in the tall grass to our right."

Maxime raised his hand, ordering the squad to stop.

A thick silence fell as all the mercenaries, old and new, froze, their eyes fixed on the surroundings.

He knew Jean's talent, and perhaps this particular perception was one of the effects of his talent so there was great credibility in the words he was saying.

Seeing the chief take his friend's advice seriously, Garen tightened the hilt of his sword, feeling his heart racing.

The situation being abnormal, both old and new mercenaries, everyone became tense.

Then, without warning, a hoarse cry rang out, followed by a second, and a third.

The tall grass suddenly parted, revealing a troop of orcs springing up from all sides, encircling the mercenaries.

In an instant, the saber-toothed tigers found themselves surrounded by fifty of these creatures, their muscles taut, their eyes shining with a bestial glint.