The forest was quiet again.
Too quiet.
The bodies lay scattered across frost-hardened earth, steam still faintly rising from fresh wounds in the cold January air.
For a few seconds, neither of them moved.
William's grip on Osric's hand slowly loosened.
Reality returned.
Osric looked down at the corpses.
Four men.
Now just weight.
Just meat.
No different from the wolf.
That thought disturbed him more than the killing itself.
He exhaled slowly.
"We can't leave them like this," he said.
William swallowed but nodded.
"Yeah."
There was no ceremony to it.
Osric walked toward the first corpse — the tall one.
He picked up his sword.
His hands were steadier now.
Not fully calm.
But functional.
One by one, he finished what had not yet been finished.
He beheaded the remaining bodies.
Iron cut through flesh.
Dull thuds against frozen ground.
The cold made it easier.
Less smell.
Less warmth.
William forced himself to watch.
To learn.
To remember.
When it was done, four heads lay separated in the frost.
Osric retrieved a large cloth sack from his pack — originally meant for materials.
It would serve another purpose now.
The heads went in first.
Heavy.
Awkward.
He added their belongings after — coins, a few cheap blades, worn leather pieces, a cracked dagger.
Nothing impressive.
Nothing professional.
Just desperate men.
The wolf corpse was too large to fit inside.
Osric crouched beside it for a moment.
Then he grabbed it by the forelegs and hoisted it onto his shoulders.
The weight pressed down immediately.
It was heavier than during the lynx retrieval.
The fight had drained him more than he realized.
His muscles protested.
The frost made the ground slippery.
Each step required care.
William carried the sack.
It sagged unpleasantly in his grip.
They did not speak much on the way back.
The forest felt different now.
Not threatening.
Just empty.
It took them longer than usual to reach town.
By the time Ashbrook's tall and thick wooden palisade came into view, Osric's shoulders burned and his back throbbed from the strain.
But he did not slow.
He would not allow himself to associate this day with weakness.
Not physically.
Not mentally.
The guards at the gate stiffened when they saw what they were carrying.
One stepped forward.
"Bandits?" he asked.
Osric nodded once.
"Yes."
The guard's eyes lingered on the sack for a moment.
Then he stepped aside with an unbothered expression.
"Alright. Take it to the mercenary guild."
Osric just nodded again and walked through the gate with William.
As they entered town, the normal sounds of Ashbrook returned — distant chatter, hammering from a smithy, a dog barking somewhere.
Life continued.
Unbothered.
Unaware.
Osric shifted the wolf slightly on his shoulders.
He could check the System later.
For now, there were practical matters.
Proof.
Payment.
And consequences.
—
Osric and William stopped by the adventurers guild first.
They had to officially complete the wolf elimination mission.
Once that was done and they got their 45 copper, Osric handed over 18 coins to William.
After that they went to the monster materials dealer and sold the wolf corpse for 86 copper.
William got 34 of the total profit.
Osric didn't haggle as stubbornly as he did before.
He just wanted to get to the mercenary guild and take care of the bandit stuff.
Unlike the city gate, adventurers guild and the streets, Osric and William didn't receive any weird looks there, because of the bloody bag they were holding.
The mercenary guild stood only a few streets away from the adventurers guild.
Unlike the wooden buildings that filled most of Ashbrook, this one was built from old grey stone. The walls were thick and worn, marked with years of weather and use. A faded iron sign hung above the entrance, creaking slightly whenever the wind shifted.
Osric pushed the heavy door open.
Warmth and noise spilled out immediately.
The interior was large and crowded.
Much larger than the adventurers guild.
Rough wooden tables filled most of the room, many occupied by groups of mercenaries drinking, eating, or discussing work. The air smelled of ale, sweat, metal, and old leather.
It was louder here too.
Arguments.
Laughter.
The dull clatter of mugs hitting wood.
Osric paused for a moment just inside the entrance.
William did the same.
The difference was obvious immediately.
These were not adventurers.
Most of the men and women inside looked harder, older, and far more dangerous.
Iron armor was common here — breastplates, chain shirts, and heavy helmets resting on tables. Many carried weapons of noticeably better quality than those usually seen at the adventurers guild.
Long swords with polished blades.
Heavy axes.
Well-crafted spears.
Steel was still rare, but it appeared far more often than among adventurers.
With one glance, it was clear.
Mercenaries in Ashbrook made far more money.
They did the work that required fewer questions and stronger stomachs.
Most served House Greydell directly.
Others took contracts from merchants or spent their time hunting bandits in the surrounding region.
Because of that, someone entering the guild carrying a sack full of bandit heads was nothing unusual.
Very few people even bothered looking twice.
Osric and William walked deeper into the hall.
Toward the back of the building.
There, a long wooden counter stretched across the wall, several guild clerks standing behind it while speaking with mercenaries waiting in line.
As the two of them approached, a few nearby mercenaries glanced in their direction.
Not because of the sack.
Because of them.
Young.
Unfamiliar.
One thick-bearded man leaning against a table narrowed his eyes slightly as they passed.
Another mercenary resting an armored elbow on the counter gave them a curious look.
They clearly had not seen these two before.
Osric ignored the attention.
He stepped forward and placed the heavy sack on the counter.
The dull sound of something inside shifting was unmistakable.
Proof of work.