Chapter 10
The Story Before the Gathering (2)
Bieri and I shut our mouths simultaneously.
Fortunately, the owner of the voice wasn’t Hwaruan.
“Haha, why are you so startled? Someone might think you committed a crime.”
Skal descended the stairs, greeting us with a book in one hand and an arming sword in the other.
His voice was hoarse, so we must have mistaken him for Hwaruan for a moment. Whew, that was a close one.
“Ugh, Skal, you scared us. Why are you coming down so quietly?”
“You wouldn’t be startled if you weren’t doing anything startling.”
Skal replied nonchalantly to Bieri’s complaint.
“Like imitating Hwaruan and laughing about it.”
“Oh my god, you heard everything? I didn’t do anything. It was all Ase!”
As expected of a gambler, he was incredibly quick at shifting the blame.
But getting angry here would be a rookie mistake.
“Of course, sir. What power do I, a mere F-rank, have to disobey the orders of a D-rank mercenary? You should just assume it was all my fault. Yes, Skal, it was all my fault.”
“Wow, look at you shifting the blame.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Bieri! Since I’m low-ranked, I have to do as I’m told, so I’ll take all the blame, and at least your despicable head won’t be graced with Hwaruan’s spicy fist!!!”
“My head is spinning from all this early morning drama.”
Skal, witnessing our bickering, chuckled, his plump belly shaking.
He was breathing so heavily that his chainmail seemed about to burst.
Bieri and I wondered if he was going to suffocate as he continued wheezing. Finally, he raised his head and said with a flushed face,
“Hmm, hmm. Don’t worry.”
About what? About suffocating, or about being reported?
“Are you alright, Skal?”
Bieri approached him and patted his back.
“I’m fine. Hmm. Just a moment.”
He placed the book and the sword he was holding on the counter and gently patted his chest.
After a few pats, he returned to normal.
“Phew, this armor doesn’t fit anymore. I need to lose some weight.”
I could guarantee that if he just stopped putting things in his mouth while reading, he could fit into a size smaller armor.
Of course, I knew it was extremely difficult. I also got hungry while reading.
So I could only offer one word of encouragement.
“Good luck.”
Did he think dieting was easy?
***
After a simple breakfast in the dining hall, we headed out to the front yard, the gathering point.
The other mercenaries were already assembled and ready, so I hurriedly waved with both hands, my gloves on.
“Hey, good to see you all alive, my fellow official mercenaries.”
“You’re back again, not frozen to death.”
“I wish you were dead.”
“If you want to kill me, pay me first. Why are you trying to kill a poor man?”
They were joking and laughing from early morning, so they must not have lost much money yesterday.
“Who’s that? Hey, you there!”
‘Huh?’
I turned my head at the strange words mixed in with the greetings and asked,
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
A stranger I had never seen before, with a bastard sword, slightly longer than a longsword, strapped to his waist, was staring at me.
Even with my excellent habit of judging people by their appearance, I could tell this guy looked like a skilled thief with his scarred face and rough features.
And it seemed he actually had been a thief.
One of the characteristics of northern mercenaries was their evenly developed arms from using targe or round shields.
This guy, although his legs and body were clearly trained, indicating some experience with swordsmanship, only had his right arm developed.
He wasn’t a mercenary, but some random guy who had wandered in from somewhere.
And these types of wanderers always did the same thing. Pick fights.
This region was so rough that many people knew the harshness of the orphanage’s dirt floor better than the softness of the baby clothes their parents wrapped them in, and there were even more who proudly flaunted that fact.
If I dealt with every single one of these guys with a sword, I wouldn’t be able to do my job, and I didn’t want that.
If I drew my sword at every provocation, what kind of person would I be?
With that thought in mind, I approached him.
“Why are you calling me?”
“What are you doing here without a weapon?”
I could just grab anything from the weapon chests in the baggage wagon over there.
“Is that a problem?”
“Of course it’s a problem, idiot.”
The guy’s eyes narrowed slightly as I spoke politely. He smirked and started looking down on me.
“Even kids playing war bring sticks. You’re wearing some scavenged armor and a single glove, it’s laughable.”
It seemed he had chosen me as his target for establishing dominance, thinking I was an easy mark.
“Have you ever been in a war, kid?”
He dropped a copper coin between his legs.
Clink.
He took a step forward, positioned the coin between his legs, and said,
“I’m feeling generous. Crawl between my legs and take the coin.”
“……”
“……”
The surroundings fell silent. Everyone seemed curious about how I would react.
Of course, no one would step up for me.
He continued to provoke me.
“What are you waiting for? Don’t you want the copper? Take it and buy yourself a weapon. You’re a big guy, but are you that scared? You look like a kid.”
He was as foul-mouthed as he looked. Did he have a whole forest of bandits stuffed in his mouth?
But I wouldn’t draw my sword.
“Why don’t I have a weapon? It’s right there.”
I pointed at him, and naturally, he pointed at himself and asked,
“Why am I your weapon? Wait, don’t tell me…”
Then, as if he had suddenly figured something out, his voice became polite.
“Are you, by any chance, my employer?”
The surrounding mercenaries chuckled at his words.
If I had enough money to hire our entire mercenary group, wouldn’t I have tracked down and killed that slave trader already?
I explained it to him directly. A joke that the other party didn’t understand was a failed joke, and I had to clean it up.
It was my fault for not considering his stupidity.
“No, not an employer. I’m saying the sword on your waist is my weapon. It’s obvious you’re going to be arrow fodder and die, so why not let me use it?”
“What?”
His face went blank. I could see the tension draining from his right arm.
What was he thinking that made him so flustered? Was he planning to punch me in the jaw if I made a move?
“So please take good care of my sword, Mr. Walking Sword Sheath. Be careful not to damage the sheath while carrying my sword.”
“Look at this kid talking back to an adult.”
“Even tools dare to talk back to their masters these days. What’s wrong with a kid talking back to an idiot who’s neither a fully grown adult nor a seasoned veteran?”
With that, I quickly bent down and picked up the coin.
Of course, he didn’t react. Who would think of picking up a coin in that situation?
“And you should value money. Why are you throwing it away when you’re here to earn it?”
I said, holding the copper coin in front of his eyes.
And I smirked.
“Now, it seems you don’t have a weapon. Go buy yourself one. What use is a mercenary without a weapon, you idiot?”
Of course, I didn’t give him the copper coin.
It wasn’t my weapon, and why should I pay for his weapon?
“And don’t use the one on your waist carelessly. It already has an owner.”
“Argh!!”
The rough-looking guy’s face flushed red.
As he groaned, I heard murmurs from the surrounding mercenaries.
It was their post-fight analysis of the dominance battle, mocking him amongst themselves.
“Wow, that newbie got played.”
“He could have gotten away with it if he hadn’t thrown the coin. Tsk tsk.”
“Well, it’s his own fault. By the way, won’t you throw a copper coin at me? I could put it to good use.”
“Damn it, that bastard!”
Shing!
As the enraged guy tried to draw his sword, the mercenaries who had been watching with amusement hardened their expressions and simultaneously grabbed his arm.
And they didn’t forget to throw in their two cents.
“Hey, put the sword away. It’s good to establish dominance, but we have a job to do.”
“Don’t you know it’s a big deal if we have a fight among ourselves before a mission?”
“And you were the one who started it. And you shouldn’t mess with him.”
“Huh?”
The rough-looking guy, hearing the last comment, made a strange expression. The mercenary who had spoken last explained,
“I heard you took one of the two vacant single rooms with your skills, but that guy over there survived 5 years as a slave mercenary.”
Wow, so this guy was one of the reasons I couldn’t get out of the storage room. Where was the other one?
The rough-looking guy looked at the mercenary strangely, as if he was joking.
“Wasn’t that a joke?”
“It’s a joke, but he’s standing right there in front of you. That’s why it’s even scarier. I don’t care if you two fight later in secret, but for now, put the sword away and stay quiet.”
The mercenary who had just painted a target on the guy’s back disappeared into the crowd. Thanks, buddy.
“Tch!”
The rough-looking guy spat on the ground and glared at me, but it didn’t matter.
What could he possibly do?
***
“Did everyone sleep well?”
A short while later, Hwaruan appeared with Guildford.
His words were simple.
Departure in 10 minutes.
And what the mercenaries did was also simple.
Chat for 10 minutes.
As I wandered around, I managed to catch a disturbing keyword from Colson, who was sharing his story about failing to pick up a receptionist.
“I heard from the guild that the Sarian group recruited some new members, and there’s a mage among them. A guild mage, no less.”
Mage? Guild mage?
My mind froze for a moment.
‘If he’s from the Mage Guild, he’s a real mage, right?’
Surprisingly, magic was relatively common in this world. It was just that there weren’t many who ventured into the North.
The analogy I came up with after hearing Hwaruan’s story was, “Imagine dropping a K1 tank in front of Hongdae Station on a Friday night and asking, ‘Anyone who can’t handle this, raise your hand!'”
Of course, that included those who could use a bit of magic, the pseudo-mages.
But real mages, those who could join the Mage Guild, were rare and highly sought after.
And they rarely came to the North.
Why would they bother with hairy, alcohol-addicted, gambling-addicted guys when they could adventure with beautiful and handsome adventurers in the warm South?
Therefore, mages in northern Britannian fell into three categories.
Employees of the Mage Guild branch, there to facilitate communication and convenience for the eccentric guild members who ventured into this backwater for research.
Members of adventurer parties.
And mages like Golpion, a vulgar joke, who came to work as mercenaries.
The last type could be further divided into three categories.
Fools who came without knowing any better, skilled individuals in need of quick cash, or lunatics in need of test subjects.
I hoped the opponent would be the first case.
I still hadn’t forgotten the sight of a quarter of another mercenary group being wiped out by a single spell from a skilled mage who had joined the opposing side, their bodies never found.
I approached Colson, the mercenary who mentioned the mage, and asked,
“Wait, a mage? Why would a guild mage come to a mercenary guild in the North?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure. I just happened to hear it.”
As expected, the words “guild mage” were effective.
Even Hwaruan, who had been standing silently, approached us with a hardened expression.
He grabbed Colson’s shoulder and asked,
“Colson, tell me clearly. There’s a guild mage on the other side? What’s their level? What school are they from?”
Everyone’s attention focused on them.
But most of them, having no experience with mages, quickly went back to their chatter, and Colson started rambling about what he knew.
“Yes… yesterday, I was trying to hit on Victoria, the receptionist, and I peeked inside the counter, and I saw something like a Mage Guild seal on one of the Sarian mercenary group’s application forms.”
“Are you sure you saw it correctly?”
Colson nodded.
He wouldn’t mistake it for anything else, having almost had an ice arrow embedded in his head by a guard after hitting on a receptionist at the Mage Guild.
“They usually bring everyone to territorial wars because their numbers are small, so they’ll probably participate this time.”
Guildford, who had been standing next to them with a serious expression, said.
Hwaruan nodded and said,
“Thanks, Colson. Get some rest.”
Colson went back to his chatter.
“Phew, that was close. We almost got caught off guard.”
Hwaruan muttered and then called me,
“And Ase, come here for a moment.”
He led me to the gate, scanned my face, and nodded to himself.
He opened the gate and whispered in my ear,
“Go to the Sleeping Giant Inn right now and call the person staying in room 201.”
“Sleeping Giant Inn, room 201, right?”
“Yes. Her name is Rona Prianian. A red-haired woman. Tell her Gruncian sent you, and she’ll come. Be careful of the crossbow and the flowerpot.”
Crossbow and flowerpot? What was he talking about?
“Understood.”
As I hurried out the gate, I heard Hwaruan muttering behind me,
“Damn it. He brought a real mage. Was he hiding it and offering me a poisoned apple? This son of a…”