Chapter 108: The Failed Mission

Vivian was just a young woman who had recently turned twenty. Sheltered beneath her parents’ protective wings, she had hardly ever ventured beyond her home. Thus, everything beyond her familiar world piqued her curiosity. Sherlock, however, was a seasoned veteran, well-versed in the ways of the mercenary world, and he often regaled her with tales from that shadowy realm.

These stories ignited a yearning in Vivian’s heart. Just before their departure, she proposed they form a mercenary squad—carrying only a modest sum of money—and earn their keep along the journey by taking on tasks, all the while making their way toward the continent of Doren, enjoying the sights along the way.

Sherlock knew Vivian was no fragile flower; on the contrary, she was among the finest of her peers. Moreover, she had integrated the transfer rune of the Shadow Assassin, granting her an elusive and unpredictable edge. Such skills would surely ensure her safety in their mercenary life. Besides, Sherlock himself would be by her side.

He was confident that as long as he had a bow in his hand, even if stripped bare and cast into a desolate wilderness, he could live comfortably. So, he readily agreed to the request of his beloved, and together they embarked on their honeymoon adventure.

They formed a mercenary squad, which Vivian named “Silent Kill.” Their journey took them through several islands in the Victoria Federation, where they left behind various tales. Finally, they crossed a vast ocean by ship and arrived on the continent of Doren.

Sherlock first took Vivian to the royal capital to pay respects at his father’s tomb, then traveled to Dallas to honor his sister and brother-in-law. During this time, he also leveraged his past mercenary contacts to secure a few small jobs for Vivian and himself to complete.

Their astonishing efficiency soon caused a stir within the mercenary circles of the Kingdom of Elan, drawing the attention of those keen observers.

After paying homage to his sister, Sherlock inquired about his nephew, only to learn that the young man had fallen in battle. The sole surviving relative on this continent was a boy named Andy Charles, who was studying sorcery under a wizard named Stein in the city of Dallas.

Sherlock intended to visit his only kin on this land but unexpectedly received secret news that the mercenary group he had left behind in the Victoria Federation was facing trouble.

Though Sherlock maintained a calm facade before Vivian, inside he resolved to return swiftly, abandoning any plans to go to Dallas.

Near his sister’s grave, within the Charles family estate, he found Andy’s aunt, Lady Danielle. He entrusted her with a substantial sum of magic stones and cultivation resources to pass on to Andy.

Then, Sherlock and Vivian took a shortcut toward the royal capital of Plondra. Because of the generous resources left for Andy, their own funds were somewhat strained along the way.

Noticing this, Sherlock took on a small, convenient job in the city of Morlic—simply escorting a young noble to the Grim Academy in the royal capital. Such tasks were routine for Sherlock, who had never failed a mission.

Yet, after years of navigating the mercenary world, caution was ingrained in his very bones. He thoroughly investigated the employer, discovering that despite his youth, the young noble held the title of baron—a privilege inherited due to his noble birth and the early death of his father.

Delving deeper into the young baron’s social connections, Sherlock found that the lad was notorious for bullying others, having made enemies far and wide. Recently, he had forcibly taken a property from a declining wizard family in the city, nearly coming to blows with an apprentice named Cain.

Still, Sherlock reasoned that the young noble was not entirely reckless; he had avoided provoking anyone truly formidable. Most of his enemies were inconsequential. Take Cain, for example—a mere wizard apprentice who resorted to physical confrontation. What hope could he have for a comeback?

Satisfied the job was worth taking, Sherlock stayed overnight in Morlic and set off the next day with the young baron.

Their journey was smooth, and they soon arrived at the royal capital, settling into an inn.

Though it was early, the young baron claimed exhaustion and insisted on resting and bathing before enrolling in Grim Academy. Sherlock, familiar with the spoiled nature of noble youths, said nothing; a slight delay in submitting the mission was no great matter.

Once the baron was refreshed, Sherlock invited him out to dine. After the meal, they planned to register at the academy, freeing Sherlock from his obligation. Perhaps eager for academy life, the baron agreed readily.

But disaster struck during dinner. In the crowded inn hall, under countless watchful eyes, the young baron suddenly vanished in the blink of an eye.

Sherlock searched the inn repeatedly but found no trace, a heavy weight settling in his heart.

The commotion attracted the attention of the royal law enforcement, forcing Sherlock to slip away quietly. Bearing a kingdom-wide bounty, he preferred to avoid official entanglements—even though his current appearance bore little resemblance to the man wanted over two decades ago.

Ordinarily, he should have contacted the Night Circus to purchase a ship ticket and leave the continent. Yet, Sherlock’s mercenary code forbade him from abandoning his squad in turmoil.

He investigated near the inn for nearly half a month without success. Eventually, through the baron’s family, he learned that the baron’s “Fated Heartlock”—a symbol deeply tied to his life—had been shattered.

Sherlock’s mission had failed. Not only did he forfeit his reward, but under their agreement, he owed double compensation to the baron’s family. In fact, he paid triple, stretching his finances to the limit.

This brought him some peace of mind, but his funds were depleted. They could no longer afford tickets home. Yet a capable man would not be defeated by such troubles and continued accepting assignments in the royal capital.

With his recent blemishes on record, Sherlock’s mercenary career in the capital became far more arduous. Major contracts eluded him, leaving only trivial errands like pet-sitting—tasks that tested his patience.

At this juncture, an organization known as The Hive approached him with a secretive commission. Initially suspicious, Sherlock refused outright.

But when they called him by his real name, his instincts screamed to silence them, though he hesitated due to the city's monitoring enchantments. He demanded to know their intent.

Despite their secrecy, The Hive was generous with payment. Calculating that this job would finally earn him enough for passage back to the Victoria Isles, Sherlock accepted.

Looking back, the target—Peter—was a source of headache. The reward suddenly seemed meager for such a character, and who knew what turmoil tomorrow might bring?

As these thoughts crossed his mind, Sherlock felt a familiar mischief beneath him. Glancing down, he smiled wryly; Vivian’s small hand was once again being playful.

Chuckling softly, Sherlock scooped Vivian into his arms, kicked open the bedroom door, and strode inside with hearty laughter.

“Ah, to feel the wild spirit of youth once more!” he proclaimed joyfully.