Moslin was one of the top five mages in Fillion in terms of firepower.

Even with minimal power, she could instantly take down Iola, and she hated avoiding battles, practically reveling in fighting strong opponents.

The fact that Moslin, who seemed to enjoy battles with powerful foes, had fled from a dragon stirred something within Saffron.

“A dragon. Anyone would have taken it on if it were a human, but you can’t just throw yourself into a competition with a dragon, can you?”

Moslin gritted her nails, clearly upset. She didn’t like the fact that she had earned the reputation of "fleeing."

“It’s not that it’s scary, it’s just not worth it. Mercenaries don’t do things that aren’t worth the effort.”

Iola, a fellow mercenary, nodded in agreement.

“As I’ve said before, you can hunt a dragon if you’re willing to make sacrifices. But, of course, there will be casualties, and it costs quite a bit.”

In a mercenary group, compensation was given to the families of the deceased, and the amount was often higher than the usual pay, meaning the more casualties, the greater the financial loss.

“On the other hand, dragons, despite the danger, don’t actually bring in that much money. If you look through the records, there are quite a few cases where dragon hunting ended in bankruptcy.”

“Oh, the tasty parts and useful parts are few, and managing them is complicated.”@@novelbin@@

Saffron frowned, as if understanding.

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