Chapter 37 – A New Request (2)
Luton Cohort was spending his time leisurely in his luxurious private villa.
That indulgent feeling, cutting up steaks into chunks and gulping down fine wine. Since starting his new business, he was living in the prime of his life.
"But I'm uneasy."
Illegal slave trade.
Even though he had been doing it for nearly three years, there was no way to erase the uneasiness that lingered in a corner of his heart. If he were to get caught even once, it would be execution.
He feared that everything he had built up would crumble like a sandcastle.
"You say that every time. Isn't it about time you got tired of it?"
Across the table, the former mercenary captain, Swindel, clicked his tongue.
"Luton, how many times have I told you? As long as you keep doing things the way I taught you, there's no way you'll ever get caught."
"Mm, still, there's always the chance, isn't there. No matter how I think about it, expanding the business from here is too risky, isn't it?"
"That kind of risk is something you have to take. You have to row when the tide is high, don't you."
The nobles of the Kingdom of Estiria wanted slaves. Even though slavery had been abolished, they couldn't let go of their old pastime.
Pitiful people, treated as toys of nobles and then discarded. He felt a flicker of guilt now and then, but in front of money, it meant nothing.
'Well, it's not like we're the only ones doing wrong.'
After all, supply exists only if there's demand. Swindel, who had run mercenary groups in foreign lands while secretly trafficking people, thought that way, and that thinking gradually influenced Luton, leading him this far.
"Mmm…"
When Luton, lost in thought, didn't reply, Swindel spoke.
"Then let's do this. We expand the business, rake in money in bulk, and then leave the principality. With money, you can live well anywhere, can't you? Or, we could go to the Kingdom, serve under a noble, and enjoy proper power. Don't you think so, hm?"
Swindel whispered like a snake.
To him, Luton was quite a good business partner. Thanks to him, they could completely conceal the slave trade under the name of the Cohort Merchant Guild. It would be a waste to throw him away just because they made some quick money.
It would be better to keep him around as a shield in case they were ever caught later.
Whether Luton knew Swindel's thoughts or not.
He weighed the proposal in his head, then soon nodded.
"Alright. But we must be cautious, and more cautious still."
"You worry too much. We've done fine so far, haven't we? What could possibly go wrong?"
And a few months later.
A mage came, alongside a mercenary band hired by a noble.
***
Luton Cohort's private villa, seated in the middle of a spacious estate.
Around it stood several buildings, with watchtowers installed at regular intervals. Walls taller than a man, and several magical security devices as well. Guards of the merchant guild kept watch everywhere or patrolled in groups.
"They sure poured a load of money into this. Best to break through the front. You can handle it, Bedet?"
"Of course, Captain Rowin. I'll smash it apart with a Fireball."
"Good. After we break the gate, we move swiftly, subdue them, and finish it. And if anyone looks like a noble, that's probably the merchant master, so don't kill him, even by mistake. Everyone clear?"
"Yes, Captain."
At Rowin's command, the mercenaries answered in unison.
Then, the mage Bedet spoke.
"By the way, the mage the count said he would send separately still isn't here, is he?"
"Ah, that… was it Asher? He'll come if he has the time. Not like he'll even get a chance to step in anyway."
If they pulled this commission off well, there would be not only money, but also a chance to catch the count's eye. They could not let that chance slip away.
Rowin made that vow.
And before long, a mage appeared.
Ash-grey hair, blue eyes. At that extraordinary aura, the mercenaries blinked in astonishment. Verden looked around, then approached the man who seemed to be the captain, Rowin.
"You must be Rowin, captain of the Rowin Mercenary Corps? I am the mage Asher."
"Ah, uh… ahem. Right on time, aren't you. A pleasure to meet you, Asher. Just call me Rowin."
Rowin quickly regained his composure.
Though he felt something unusual, it wasn't as if he could share the spoils. Their side had far greater strength.
Swallowing hard, he spoke to Verden.
"To speak so soon after you've arrived, but, the plan is already set. Our mage will break through the entrance, and we'll swiftly seize the villa. Frankly, I don't see where you'd have a role to play."
"…?"
At that, Verden tilted his head.
According to Pale's information, that man Swindel was supposed to be quite strong. No matter how he thought about it, this mercenary corps alone couldn't handle it.
'Could it be they don't know?'
Come to think of it, perhaps so.
What the count wanted wasn't capture, but the reduction of the enemy's strength. Since Rowin's corps had not received the commission through an informant like Verden had, they likely hadn't grasped the true intent.
When Verden said nothing, Rowin thought his momentum had prevailed, and continued boldly.
"So, don't get in the way, and just support from the rear. If the plan goes awry, we both lose. I'd appreciate your understanding."
After a brief thought, Verden came to a conclusion.
For now, he would watch from the rear, as Rowin wished. If Pale's information was correct, Rowin's plan was bound to fail.
It would not be too late to step in then.
"Very well, I'll do that."
"Hahaha! Glad we're of one mind! Once it's over, I'll buy you a drink, so just let this one slide!"
Rowin beamed as he returned to his place.
But not long after entering the villa, that smile vanished without a trace.
***
Wooooong!
The moment they crossed the perimeter, the alarm rang out. Bedet stepped forward and blasted the main gate apart with a Fireball.
Hearing the commotion, the guards rushed to the front gate. Judging from their gear, they were mercenaries from another land.
Their number was around thirty.
About the same as those under Rowin. But the difference in fighting strength was nothing like what Rowin had imagined.
Clang!
"Urgh?!"
A crushing blow that made his vision shake.
Barely managing to block it, Rowin hurriedly leapt back. The shock had been so strong that his arms trembled, his sword-tip shaking wildly.
A man with a warhammer slung over his shoulder laughed loudly.
"Khahahaha! Said we were under attack, so I came out in a hurry, and look at this, just a bunch of mongrels. Don't know how you found this place, but you'd better not expect to die easy."
Whooom, whooom.
Swinging his warhammer, the man approached slowly. Rowin gripped his sword tightly, scanning the field. It was clear his mercenaries were being pushed back.
'And Bedet too…!'
Bedet, a lower 3rd-tier mage and the vice-captain, was being driven back by the opposing mage.
No, it wasn't even a contest. The enemy was toying with him. Which meant that mage was at least mid 3rd-tier or higher.
'Why is this happening? How could mere merchant guild guards be this strong?!'
He tried to deny it, but the situation would not change. At this rate, they would be annihilated.
As Rowin retreated in desperation, an icy orb flew past him from behind, colliding with the warhammer.
"Hm? What's this now?"
The man turned his head.
Passing the bewildered Rowin, Verden activated all his mana circuits.
'The mercenaries themselves are about equal. The problem is that hammer-wielder, and the mage.'
But among them, Swindel was nowhere to be seen. He must be guarding the merchant master.
If those two were dealt with first, the rest would be easier to subdue. He had already finished gauging their strength from the rear.
Verden's Magic
The man, seeing the boulder flying toward him, grinned, and swung his warhammer wide, planning to split it head-on.
Kwaang! But it was far harder than he had thought, and far heavier.
"Y, you son of a—!"
Grinding his teeth, he tried to push it away, but it was impossible.
In the end, the man was flung back, rolling across the ground, while the boulder demolished a distant building. Covered in dirt, the man twisted his face in rage.
"You bastard!"
The mercenary with the warhammer charged.
Whooong! Whoooong! The sound of cleaving air brushed past his ears. Swung with crushing weight, the hammer was certainly threatening. That is, if it landed directly.
The mercenary froze under the bitter wind, and a shard of stone struck his head.
While the man was dazed, Verden closed in and slammed his staff across his face. Blood burst and sprayed far into the air.
Reeling from the successive blows, the man dropped to one knee.
"Ggh…! Damn little mage, with his petty tricks…!"
And then, sparks crackled before his eyes.
Bzzzt!
The man's body was engulfed in blue current. Charred black, his eyes rolled back as his face slammed into the ground. Since the power had been adjusted, he wasn't dead.
Verden's blue eyes gleamed.
'Above, a mage. Third-tier.'
The instant he sensed mana from the sky, he raised his head.
A spear of rock was flying at him. He countered with the same spell. It was obvious which would win—an ordinary spell, or one reinforced with maximum mana and a magic tome.
"W, what—?"
Thud!
Verden's spear shattered the spell and pierced the mage's leg, sending him crashing down onto the roof of a building.
Witnessing the vice-captain and their head mage overwhelmed in an instant, the mercenaries froze.
"H, hey… this isn't dangerous, is it?"
No one answered. They only swallowed hard. Fear spread like a plague, one after another.
Rowin's mercenaries, too, watched Verden warily, unable to act rashly.
At that moment, the villa's door opened.
"What is this commotion?"
"Captain!"
***
The mercenary captain, Swindel.
But Verden's gaze was not on him, it was on the man behind.
'That must be the merchant master, Luton Cohort.'
Smooth hands that had likely never gripped a weapon properly, the merchant guild's signet ring on his finger, a belly spilling over even through fine clothes, a luxurious suit. By any measure, it was Luton Cohort. He trembled faintly, as if terrified, when he met Verden's gaze.
Verden turned his head toward Swindel.
Surveying the scene of carnage, Swindel met his eyes and asked,
"Looks like you came knowing everything. Where did the leak come from? I'd like to know before you die."
"You're talking about me dying?"
"Of course. Did you think killing a few of my men meant you'd won? You're so young, you're brimming with arrogance. I could kill all of you on my own."
Swindel drew a rapier from his waist.
"I'll show you your place."
As a high-ranking mercenary, Swindel was seasoned.
With ample experience in man-to-man combat, he was adept at using feints to deceive. His precision in targeting vital points with the rapier was also formidable.
If Verden had fought him only with his staff, he would not have lasted a few minutes.
But Verden was a mage.
One so exceptional he had just felled a mage of equal tier in an instant.
Slash.
After a brief exchange, Swindel's arm fell away.
"Uwaaaaaaagh!"
Blood spurted like a fountain, but he could not stem it. From massive blood loss, his skin turned pale. The pain was so intense, even screaming was difficult.
And above all, he could not believe he had been defeated.
'This is impossible?!'
That he, a high-ranking mercenary, had lost to such a young mage? Without even being able to get close? It made no sense. It was too unfair.
From the very bottom, he had scraped through death to survive this long, and yet to die so vainly? Swindel barely stifled a groan and forced out his voice.
"Sp, spare me…"
Krrrk.
The ground rose up, binding Swindel's body. Rather than kill him outright, Verden planned to capture him and hand him to the count.
'Next, the merchant master.'
"Hiiik!"
Under Verden's gaze, Luton Cohort collapsed to the floor.
His overflowing belly wobbled. For a heinous criminal who had trafficked people for years, it was a pitiful end.
***
By the time the count's knights arrived, the battle was already over.
Verden calmly handed over Luton Cohort, Swindel, and the others, while Rowin and his mercenaries silently helped.
As a result, far from losing their reward, they even received extra for capturing the targets alive. Pale said the count had seemed somewhat dissatisfied, but on the whole, he was pleased with the job.
'A fair bit of money has piled up.'
His account was heavy. Enough that he wouldn't need to worry about money for a while.
A few days later, he returned to the forge.
Fortunately, the repair of the ring had been completed without delay.
"Come again!"
Seeing him off, the blacksmith waved. Verden once again used Appraise on the ring.
He still could not read its effect, but the scattered traces had drawn closer together. He had a rough idea now.
It could not be solved with mana alone—various materials were needed. They weren't particularly rare, so they should be easy enough to find in Cohen.
"…Hm?"
As Verden walked through the streets, he heard a commotion.
Heading closer, he saw dozens of people gathered in a corner. It was surprisingly lively, unlike the usual bleak atmosphere of Cohen.
He edged nearer and peeked inside.
"You've had a serious fight with your friend. But out of pride, neither of you will approach first. It would be wise to yield a step, and apologize first."
"How could you… ah, no, I'll do as you say. Thank you, Prophet!"
"You are buying misfortune for yourself, repeating the same mistake you made in the past. Unless you think from another's point of view, and show consideration, you will never escape the cycle of misfortune."
"Und… understood, Prophet."
An old man on a mat, drawing cards to divine fortunes, and a young girl beside him watching.
They were the very same people Verden had met at the inn not long ago.