Merick was watching guard on the wall scouting the area.
Recently his days have been spent trying to fix the white stone together with no hope in sight then substituting for the 1th shift or the day shift lasts till 36:00-6:00 or 6 hours and in total scouting duty for the wall last for the whole 36 hours per day with it being divided into 6 shifts, with each lasting for 6 hours.
Merick's scout seemed to be mundane too until he saw the silhouette of people approaching the gate.
Seeing this, Merick began to sweat and his arms trembled as he ducked down.
He wondered if he should inform the nearby guards of this and prepare for an attack, he was scared of who was coming but knowing that Skelra and Rose went out for a trip, held that thought and deicide to muster up the courage to look back and observe the silhouette more clearly and as he looked at them he let out a sigh of relief realising that it was Skelra and the scouts following him.
He looked down at the gates where there were 2 guards placed.
"S-S-Skel-Skelra..and the..others ... a-aar-are coming." He spoke to them in a shaky voice. His social battery was gone, talking to so many people(3 guards) for so long while eating(lunch break lasted 15 mins in which he only spoke with them for 5 mins)
Hearing this, the guards understood Merick's situation, "Ok, we'll get ready to greet them."
They then were friendly and Merick felt great to be able to understand.
Merick anxiously bit his nails as he watched them come, he was even more paranoid then his encounter with the stranger named Sky and even hid behind that scary woman named Rose.
He stood there his heart racing and he looked down and saw a pouch that his lover gave him everyday.
He took out an extremely short and small glass cup, comparable to a shot glass and put the light brown powder in it and ate it, watching it down with the water in his canteen.
As he swallowed it, his body felt calmer and he was finally breathing calmly and his heart beat went from 147 to 84 in a couple minutes and he relaxed.
"Thank you, Shirori" she says unexpectedly without stuttering and sits down, realising that they'll take a while to reach here, so rather than scrambling his head to think of greetings, he should, calm down first and then-
"Oh~hello Merick." Rose said with a creepy smile.
"Ah! U-uh, H-h-h-h-h-h-h…" Merick's heartbeat jumped back even higher than his previous anxious heart jumping to 154 and sweat began to appear.
"Merick calm down, you're one of us, there's no need to be so anxious when you see us." Skelra spoke in a calm manner.
"I-I-I under-Understood!" Merick spoke up, his heart rate still spiking.
'I understood!? What the hell am I thinking! I should have first replied to Rose first, she's less understanding of my heart she was probably expecting an answer! But I just bypassed her like she was a piece of decorative furniture, and not the kind of furniture that sits quietly in a corner, but the kind of furniture that might suddenly sprout teeth and consume you whole if you don't acknowledge its presence!'
The thought hit Merick with the force of a physical blow. His mind, which had been blissfully quiet for a grand total of ninety seconds thanks to Shirori's powder, was now a hornet's nest that had been kicked by a giant. The brown residue of the medicine was still bitter on his tongue, a mocking reminder of the peace he had just squandered. He could feel the blood hammering against his eardrums—thump-thump, thump-thump—sounding less like a pulse and more like a heavy-booted soldier marching toward his inevitable doom.
154 beats per minute. He didn't need a monitor to know he had broken his previous record. He was surprised his ribs weren't cracking under the pressure.
'Why did I say "understood"? Understood what? Skelra told me to calm down, and my response was to bark a military confirmation like I'm some sort of battle-hardened veteran instead of a man currently shaking. Skelra was trying to be nice, but now I've made it weird. I've made it so incredibly weird. He's going to think I'm mocking his authority, or worse, that I'm so mentally unstable that I can't process a simple suggestion without turning it into a tactical briefing.'
And then there was Rose.
Merick didn't dare look up, but he could feel her "creepy smile" burning into the top of his head. It was a physical sensation, like a heat lamp held too close to his skin. He had ignored her. He had looked at Skelra and given Skelra the answer that belonged to her. Or did it? Rose had said "Hello," and Skelra had told him to "Calm down." By saying "Understood," he had technically answered Skelra, which meant Rose's "Hello" was still hanging there in the air, rotting. It was a corpse, and he was the murderer.
'She's going to kill me. She's going to decide that my lack of etiquette is a capital offense. I can see it now, my head on a pike because I couldn't figure out the proper chronological order of greetings. "Here lies Merick," the plaque will say, "He was a polite boy until the very end, where he catastrophically failed to say 'Hi' to a terrifying woman."'
His hands were shaking so violently now that he had to shove them into his pockets, but then he worried that shoving his hands into his pockets looked disrespectful or like he was hiding a weapon. He quickly pulled them back out, but then they were just hovering awkwardly at his sides.
'What if she thinks I'm ignoring her on purpose? What if she thinks I'm trying to assert some kind of dominance by only speaking to Skelra? I'm not asserting dominance! I'm barely asserting my existence! I am a puddle! I am a sentient stain on the rug! Please, Rose, look into my soul and see the absolute vacuum of confidence residing there!'
He felt a bead of sweat roll down his head, tracing a slow, cold path toward his jaw. He wanted to wipe it away, but moving his arm felt like a task of immeasurable proportions.
The silence was stretching. To Rose and Skelra, it had probably only been three seconds. To Merick, it had been several lifetimes. He had lived, died, and been reincarnated as a slightly more anxious version of himself in the span of a single breath.
'Say something. Anything. "Hello Rose." No, that's too late. "Sorry Rose." No, that admits guilt, and you should never admit guilt to someone who smiles like that. "Nice weather, Rose." It's literally a crisis, why would I talk about the weather? I should just melt. If I could just turn into a liquid right now, I could seep into the cracks of these floorboards and drift away to a place where greetings don't exist.'
His vision blurred slightly at the edges. 154. 155. 156. He was a runaway train, and the tracks ended at the feet of a woman who found his terror entertaining. The worst part wasn't even the fear of death, it was the unbearable, soul-crushing awkwardness of being alive.
"Rose…what the hell did you do?" Skelra turned to her with a cold stare.
"Nothing yet." Rose spoke, putting her arms behind her head.
"…"
— ✦ —
"Hey, newbie, can I ask you a couple questions?" A certain scout spoke up asking the newbie.
"Uh, yeah sure."
"Well firstly my name's Boustesh, Now could you tell me yours?"
"Oh, I'm William." The new scout spoke, introducing himself.
"Well Simon, why do you use a rapier?" Boustesh asked, putting his hands on his chin, It's more difficult to carry, breaks are easier. " It's also less effective against monsters as It's also less effective against monsters because most of them have hide like tanned leather or scales thicker than a smith's apron,"
Boustesh continued, his gaze drifting from the rapier to the second, shorter blade tucked into Simon's belt. "And a parrying dagger? Really? You're bringing a needle and a toothpick to a fight against things that weigh half a ton. One bad hit from a heavy or a strong monster and that dagger won't just break; it'll drive the splinters into your own palm. Why not a shield? Or at least a weapon with some actual weight behind it?"
William didn't flinch. He adjusted the leather strap of his canteen, his movements deliberate. He looked down at the parrying dagger, the wide, protective guard and the stiff, triple-edged blade designed to catch and redirect force.
"I know it's not the standard choice for a scout," William replied. "A broadsword is easier to maintain and helps move for long distances with less discomfort and a shield is safer for a novice. But the reason I use these is simple. I use them because I'm better with them than anything else. The man who raised me, the one who actually taught me how to survive, wasn't a knight or scout. He spent most of his life in the Districts fighting in damp alleyways and doing things he wasn't proud of. He was an enforcer, a thief, and worse. He didn't know how to use a claymore or an axe because those aren't the weapons of the gutter or things you find commonly, especially for his line of living.
Boustesh spat into the soot-stained grass. "So you're using the skills of a criminal to do the work of a scout?"
"I'm using the only things he had to give," William countered. "By the time he took me in, he was trying to change. He'd left that life behind, but he didn't have a trade or a title. He only had the skills he'd used to survive the backstreets. He taught me how to use the rapier and the dagger because that was his entire world. It wasn't about honor for him, it was about the most efficient way to disable an opponent in that space that he could get his hands on. He spent every day of my childhood drilling me until these were the only two things I knew how to handle."
"Being good at a bad choice doesn't make it a good choice, kid," Boustesh grunted.
"I've survived this long," William said, sheathing the dagger with a sharp clack. "I'll stick with what I know."
"Well," Boustesh sighed, picking up his own heavy axe. "Just don't expect me to pick up the pieces of your 'toothpick' when a bear-cat bites it in half."
"I'll keep that in mind," Simon replied.
"What are you bickering about with the new scout, Boustesh." Another veteran scout came up to them, William recognised this certain scout, it was the same scout who helped him wrap his hand.
"I was just asking the recruit a question."
"As if! It looked like you were scolding the young man from my view." The certain said, clearly annoyed.
The veteran's gaze turned to William and his old irritated demeanour disappeared instantly, "Sorry for any trouble my friend has caused you, I'm Krush, nice to meet you."
"Uh no it's fine, he was simply voicing out his concerns."
"'Corncern' huh? Bousthesh, did you insult his choice of weapon?" He said with a cold stare.
"I only gave him some advice."
"You little-"
"Please don't make too much noise, we are already quite deep in the forest, so you could alert the monsters." Gill said, reprimanding the veterans.
"Yes, sir." Krush said, hiding his face of annoyment.
'These seniors of mine are quite…unique' William thought as he turned his gaze to Verrith, 'I heard Sir.Verrith's squad was completely wiped out which made him join us, but although it's a bit heartless but I'm at least glad I can go to such a sudden and high reward task while he is by our side which wouldn't have happened if his squad wasn't by his side so I guess I should thank them… Yeah, thanking the dead for being dead isn't good, I should probably change such thoughts.'
'Also, isn't the majority of Bousthesh's weapons made from wood? It seems like it's been tanned and polished and the two sided top of the weapon is definitely difficult to break but a good attack would destroy the axe wouldn't it?' William thought, confused at the question proposed by his own mind.