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The crowd roared in approval as my name echoed through the air, their cheers filling me with a sense of pride and accomplishment I hadn’t felt in a long time. I stood there, basking in the moment, my chest swelling with each shout. The euphoria coursed through me, making me forget if only briefly, the exhaustion from the brutal fight I had just endured. For those few seconds, I felt invincible.

But my moment in the spotlight was short-lived. The tournament staff quickly moved in, dragging off the unconscious bodies of the defeated, myself included. It seemed like they had a schedule to keep, and the next event was already in preparation. I have ushered off the sidelines as they cleared the field for the upcoming round, a special event for knights serving in the army—cataphracts mounted warriors from the lower noble houses.

I could barely focus as I watched the knights on horseback enter the arena. Having a horse here was like having a car back in my world, not just in cost but in the maintenance required. Horses weren’t something a mere peasant or foot soldier could afford. Only the wealthy or those backed by noble families had the resources to maintain one. I found myself caring less and less about the spectacle, as fatigue from the battle royale hit me like a wave. I focused instead on tending to the wounds I’d sustained in the fight. My body ached, but the adrenaline still pumping through my veins helped numb some of the pain.

By the time the knightly event was over, the winners were called up on stage to receive their rewards. I was among them. As we stood there, waiting for the ceremony to begin, I noticed the figure walking toward us—Queen Vendelia, wife of Garios, ruler of the Western Empire. She was supposed to be presenting us with our prizes, but her expression told me all I needed to know. Her cold, disinterested eyes glanced over us as if we were nothing more than dirt beneath her feet. There was no smile, no acknowledgement of our efforts, nothing but disdain.

The queen didn’t even hand out the rewards herself. She called over a slave, who brought forth a small chest of coins and a collection of items. It felt degrading as if we were beggars receiving scraps. I clenched my fists, trying to ignore the insult, and focused on what I had won. The slave handed me my reward—a pouch containing 2000 denars and a bronze helmet. The money was a welcome addition, but I barely cared about the helmet. What mattered was what the reward signified. I had survived, and I had earned something for my efforts.

As I stood there, holding my reward, I suddenly heard the familiar robotic voice in my head: One-handed skill levelled up to level 2 (35/100). Renown gained: 5 (total 5.5/50). Influence gained: none.

I let out a sigh. Finally, some progress. It had taken me three days to level up a single skill, and even then, it was just my one-handed combat. Back in the games I used to play, three days would’ve been enough time to fight a boss or unlock special abilities, but here, in this world, progress was slow—painfully slow. There were no shortcuts, no hacks to speed things up. I was going to have to fight for every inch of advancement.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment. It was a step forward, however small. And in a world like this, every little bit counts. I collected my reward and left the tournament grounds, my body still aching from the fight. The sun was beginning to set, and I knew I needed rest. The inn was calling to me, a warm bed and the chance to sleep off the exhaustion from the day’s events.

As I made my way back, I ran into Manes. His face lit up when he saw me, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“So, I guess a celebration is in order, isn’t it?” he said, clapping me on the back.

I laughed, wincing slightly from the pain in my ribs. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Drinks are on me.”

We found a quiet tavern not far from the inn, and before long, we were deep into our cups. The ale flowed freely as we talked about everything—our journey from the village, the looters we had fought, and the tournament. It felt good to relax for once, to let go of the constant tension that had been hanging over me since I arrived in this world.

As the night wore on, Manes began to speak about his ambitions. His tone became more serious, and I could see the fire in his eyes. “You know,” he began, “I’ve been thinking about forming a mercenary group. Not like these other scum who pillage and murder. I’m talking about a group that doesn’t hurt innocents, that protects the weak instead of exploiting them.”

I listened closely, intrigued by his vision. It wasn’t just idle talk; there was passion behind his words. “You’ve seen the way these kingdoms operate,” he continued. “They kill, they enslave, they take whatever they want without a second thought. Someone has to stand up to them, even if it’s just a small group.”

His conviction was clear, but there was a problem. “The only issue,” he said, his voice lowering, “is that I don’t have the resources to make it happen. I’ve been trying to win tournaments to fund the group, but I’ve had no luck.”

He explained the financial burden of running such a band. “It costs 150 denars monthly just to recruit one man,” he said. “If we want to recruit ten, that’s 1500 denars right there. And that doesn’t include the supplies. We’ll need another 1000 denars just for provisions to last a month.”

He sighed, taking a long drink of his ale. “I’ve managed to scrape together 1500 denars, but I’m still short. I need another 1000.”

I sat back, considering his proposal. On one hand, it was a risky investment. Starting a mercenary group in this world wasn’t something to be taken lightly. But on the other hand, I needed someone I could trust. Manes had proven himself to be a good companion, and having him as an ally would be valuable, especially while I was still learning the ropes in this strange new world.

After some thought, I nodded. “I’ll help you. I’ll put up the 1000 denars, but I want to be more than just a sponsor. I want to be involved. Let me be your quartermaster, your co-leader. We’ll run this group together.”

Manes smiled, a look of relief washing over his face. “Thank you,” he said. “You won’t regret this.”

We continued drinking, the mood lightening again as we discussed the details of the group. At one point, Manes turned to me and asked, “Do you have any ideas for a name? Every mercenary band needs a name.”

I thought for a moment, reflecting on what he had said about the group’s purpose. Then, a name came to me. “The Nine Men,”. “It was the name of a group from my world, formed by an ancient ruler named Ashoka. They were dedicated to stopping suffering and protecting the innocent. I think it fits.”

Manes nodded, liking the sound of it. “The Nine Men. I like it.”

We spent the rest of the night drinking and celebrating both my victory in the tournament and the formation of our new mercenary group. By the time we stumbled back to the inn, the sky was dark, and we were both thoroughly drunk. I collapsed into bed, my mind swirling with thoughts of the future.

The next morning came far too quickly. The pounding in my head was a harsh reminder of the previous night’s indulgence, but there was work to be done. Manes and I split up, each with our own tasks. My job was to gather supplies and recruit men, while he would seek out potential contracts.

The day passed in a blur as I moved from merchant to merchant, haggling over prices and assessing the available recruits. By the time evening rolled around, I had managed to gather enough supplies for the group to last at least a month, and I had recruited ten solid men to join us. They weren’t much to look at, but they were eager and capable enough.

When I met back up with Manes, he was equally successful. He had already secured a potential contract for us to take on the next day. Everything was falling into place.

As we sat together, reviewing our progress, I felt a sense of accomplishment. We were on the verge of something big. The Nine Men had been born, and our first mission was just around the corner.

Tomorrow, our journey will truly begin.