She then raised her bow.
KiIik - she pulled the arm holding the string long.
With busy eyes, she aimed at the wyvern.
'...'
In her head, she counted the number of arrows left in her quiver.
Once she'd caught all of them, she'd draw the short sword on her thigh and leap into the air.
That way-
'I can catch more.'
Competitiveness.
A competitive fire burned in her blood.
This had to be won. If she lost this, there was only death.
***
Erica was a mess.
Her clothes were disheveled, her hair tangled, and her mind scattered.
She had missed her landing spot by a hair's breadth, leaped in the wrong direction, and tumbled down the hill a few times.
'I nearly snapped my spine.'
She gave herself a firm pat on the back.
Chalking it up to the darkness of the night sky, she scolded herself for the misstep.
As she landed and regained her footing, exhaustion washed over her. She hadn't planned on exerting herself so much on the very first day.
She should have sought out the lord and claimed a commendation for daring to confront the infamous Lugis Wyvern.
Though, truth be told, Mr. Wyvern was far from tamed.
High above, the wyverns continued their cacophony.
Their numbers were daunting.
Nested deep within the mountains, with no natural predators in sight, Lugis seemed destined to coexist with the wyverns indefinitely.
Yet, to safeguard the populace, periodic eradication was essential.
In its own way, it was gratifying.
Exterminating demons trumped the mundane tasks of escorting high-value cargo any day.
So, today, she was engaged in a gratifying pursuit—
"Beer, beer...!"
She needed a drink.
She needed to get to the inn, get cleaned up, and drink a cold, icy beer to sober up.
Erica hastened her steps. The sun had set and it was pitch black.
Crackle.
A fire was lit in front of the makeshift barracks of the Ridges Canyon Wyvern Response Team.
This was where they were paid for the day.
As she walked into the settlement tent, she saw the mercenary who had come first and was settling up.
The back of his head was familiar. Dark navy hair the color of the night sky.
It was the man she made a bet with earlier.
'What was his name again?'
As she approached, a fleeting urge to give him a friendly slap on the back of his head arose, but she faltered, unable to recall his name. She continued her approach with measured steps.
"Ho ho, thirty, you caught thirty by yourself, not bluffing?"
"... Sure, maybe thirty?"
At the sound of the voice up ahead, Erica stopped.
YOU ARE READING
Erica - When a Friend is Obsessed With Me
Roman d'amourOverwhelmingly skilled S-class mercenary, Erica. Another S-class mercenary, Chaud, who follows her around diligently. "Erica, make a fixed pair with me. Make a pair with me, just with me." "Why do you want to do that with me?" "Because it pisses me...