Chapter 41 : Discipline (1)
Discipline (1)
He seemed sincere.
"I'll say it again. It's one of two things. Either open the shop as late as possible, or die by my hand."
If I disobeyed Jeros, I might die on the spot. Because,
'The day we made our deal, the atmosphere was exactly the same as now.'
The day I killed Burt and got caught by Jeros—
That look in his eyes as he tapped the pommel of his sword at his belt.
But...
'The words are the exact opposite this time, despite the same mood.'
What he was saying now wasn't something the Jeros I knew would ever say.
If it were really him, he'd be threatening me to open the shop sooner rather than later.
So why was he acting like this?
He was bizarre enough to be called a lunatic, but with this, he'd crossed into suspicious.
A suspicious guy. Impossible to read.
'This must be why the battalion commander told me to keep an eye on him.'
I could guess two reasons. Either delaying my business would make more money for this bastard, or—
'He has a goal more important than money.'
Would Jeros really have anything more important than money?
If so, what could it be?
"Answer."
At Jeros's words I stopped speculating and started to speak.
What I'd say was obvious.
"All right. I'll delay it as much as I can."
For now, I had to keep Jeros appeased.
Survival first.
"Kukuk. That's right."
"... But."
"Speak."
"What's the reason? If it were you, I thought you'd want me to open as soon as possible."
Rather than keep guessing, I decided to ask directly.
Jeros grinned and again tapped the pommel of his sword.
"Kukuk. If you knew the reason, would anything change?"
It was a warning not to pry further.
"The longer you delay, the better. But I'll be coming to eat again from tomorrow."
Hmm, was he trying to keep the buffs from my cooking to himself?
'No. He wouldn't go this far just to hog my food.'
It couldn't be such a simple reason.
Just as I started to feel down at the thought of giving away more free meals,
Jeros spun on his heel, and I hurriedly called after him.
"Why are you wearing civilian clothes? Where are you going?"
"Since when did you care so much about my business? Kukuk."
Maybe I seemed a bit awkward.
Time for a topic change.
"I have a favor to ask."
"A favor? What kind?"
I brought up the request I'd planned to make if I ran into Jeros on my return to Granfen.
"About those sword lessons you gave me last time. Please continue them."
He turned his head and grinned.
"I heard already. The battalion commander told me not to take any 'tuition' from you. Kukuk."
I was happy for a moment that the battalion commander had kept his word, but—
"So from now on, instead of tuition, I'll take a 'thank you fee.' Kukuk."
"..."
Yeah. That's the Jeros I know.
Mad for money—money-crazed Jeros.
"Did you sell plenty of salt at Grey Fortress?"
"Not plenty, just a decent amount."
"Kukuk. 'Decent' you say. Kukuk. I'll teach you for 10 shillings an hour. How about it?"
Insane. I barely bit back a curse.
Last time it was only 1 shilling, and now he was charging ten times as much?
"Kukuk. Why are you clamping your mouth shut? Now that you're 2nd-rank, it's only natural the lesson fee goes up—"
"Fine."
Jeros stopped talking,
and I carried on, holding back my annoyance.
"I said fine. 10 shillings an hour."
10 shillings wasn't a small sum, but
my top priority was getting stronger.
Money? I could make more.
Earn points, sell salt.
'I'll play along. You lunatic.'
Soon Jeros started to turn toward me,
and a real grin spread across his face.
"Kukukuk."
I had no idea what kind of look I was giving him right now,
but it was probably far from kind.
"Ian, you really are an amusing outsider. Kukuk. Good. If it's 10 shillings, I'll make the time even if I have none. Go to the training grounds first. I have some business to finish."
And with that, Jeros strode away.
I muttered under my breath once he was well out of earshot.
"You could at least tell me how long your 'business' will take, you maniac."
* * *
Jeros walked on, rolling Ian's words over in his mind.
― Fine.
10 shillings an hour for lessons.
Half genuine, half to test him.
He wanted to see how desperate this outsider was to get stronger.
But the guy answered like it was nothing.
― I said fine. 10 shillings an hour.
Salt earned with his own skill,
no matter how much he'd sold,
10 shillings wasn't a small sum.
'He really is interesting.'
With a gaze unbefitting for an outsider, he was an interesting one indeed.
Now, it wasn't just that—he was becoming a true warrior.
It was compelling, which only made Jeros's concerns deepen.
'It's troublesome—he was for simple amusement, but his influence is growing.'
Sooner or later, a time of choice might come,
Jeros thought as he arrived at the one-armed Derek's office.
Officially, the Adventurer Guild 'Widow's Usurper'.
Inside, toughs whose line between adventurer and thug was blurred turned their eyes to Jeros.
Not that this lasted long—Jeros had always been dangerous to them.
He ignored them, heading straight for the counter.
He placed two coin pouches on the counter.
Thunk. Clink. Thunk. Clink.
The man behind the counter spoke.
"It's hefty this month. Destination's the same?"
"Haven't you learned not to ask by now? Kukuk."
The man opened the pouches, counted the coins, scribbled in the ledger.
'Duchy capital Kaisrad, Dagnes Orphanage, 45 shillings.'
Jeros checked the note and asked:
"No carrier pigeon?"
The man placed a neatly folded slip on the counter.
"Kukuk. You didn't read it, did you?"
"I might snoop on other messages, but not yours. Wouldn't want to see it even a bit."
"You'd better not, if you don't want to die."
Jeros tossed him ten coppers and took the note, walking out.
Thud. Thud.
Before checking the note,
he heightened his sense through mana, spreading it wide.
A habitual action.
Just in case he was being tailed.
Not that it mattered—even if someone was.
In this village, there was no one stronger tha—
'?!'
There shouldn't have been.
Yet now, there was a powerful presence nearby, one he'd never felt before.
'Who is that?'
Jeros made use of his specialty—erasing his own presence.
The other didn't seem to notice him, but it never hurt to be careful.
He widened the distance before stopping.
'Doesn't matter who that is—first, the note.'
He quickly unfolded the note and deciphered the code.
'So the little fangs can run wild.'
Jeros's narrowed eyes revealed his irises.
If it was about 'little fangs', then surely...!
"It's been a while—"
A sudden voice from behind.
Chaaeng!
Sparks flew.
He drew and swung his sword without delay, but it was blocked.
Tadadat.
He darted back for observation first.
A robe with the hood pulled deep,
exactly as he sensed before.
From here on, it wasn't reason but instinct in control.
"You are..."
Belatedly, rational thought caught up and he lowered his sword.
That voice just before—one he recognized.
"Excellent reflexes."
Hearing the voice again confirmed it for him.
Jeros sheathed his sword and gave a military salute.
With a formality unimaginable from anyone in Granfen village.
"Squire Jeros, reporting to Provisional Knight Schutmann."
*
Ten minutes seemed reasonable.
Even thirty was fine.
After an hour, I got bored.
Two hours in, I was seething with irritation.
Such were my changing moods as I waited for Jeros at the training grounds.
'He forgot, that bastard.'
I'd been waiting and waiting,
but the lunatic didn't show.
I loosened up my body, glancing at the door—
'The soldiers look none too pleased with me.'
Honestly, from the moment I entered the training grounds, I'd gotten dirty looks.
It only got worse as time passed.
'Only Duchy soldiers can use the training grounds.'
Civilians weren't allowed in this battalion facility.
Until yesterday, I was just an outsider, and now that I was a soldier,
to them I might look like I was overstepping.
Sure enough.
"Out of the way, outsider. Where you're standing is in the way of my training."
Someone started a fight.
'There's more than enough space here.'
He said it even though there was plenty of room elsewhere.
But there was no need to stir things up.
I silently stepped aside.
However,
that was just the beginning.
"Outsider, could you move? Or I might cut you with my sword by accident."
"Get lost, outsider. Don't stink the place up."
Eventually—
Thud.
This time, he bumped into my shoulder.
"Well, well! Why's there an outsider here?"
A big, rough-looking guy.
Yeah. This was the northern frontline village with jerks like these all over.
"Came here to pretend to be a soldier? Then move—why stand there like a dummy? You're not a scarecrow."
Now even the others watching joined in mocking laughter.
"..."
Once again,
this training ground was huge.
There was no way we'd bump shoulders unless it was on purpose.
"This outsider brat's got guts. What, wanna go?"
Should I really keep holding back while Jeros might or might not show?
'Hold it in. Just hold it in.'
No point wasting energy for sword training on such a loser.
Focus on the 10-shilling per hour premium lesson.
Maybe Jeros's 'business' really was keeping him occupied.
Just then—
"Hey, Hans. What's your deal? The outsider's not doing anything."
A soldier stepped in, trying to restrain the troublemaker.
"Don't be so hard on him. He's one of us now—a Granfen soldier. He's family, family."
I recognized his face.
A regular who came by my shop every day.
His name was Jackson, I think.
'Even in this rotten medieval world, there's some sense left.'
Jackson pulled the big guy away and waved his hand at me,
as if telling me to back off quickly.
"Come on, let go. Didn't you see that outsider's eyes? Let go of me!"
"I said let it go. Hm? Let's let it go."
Fine. Let's let it go.
You have to have priorities.
Jackson's words convinced me, so I turned around—
Thunk.
My head jerked forward.
A sharp tingle hammered the back of my skull.
"How could I stand it, seeing some outsider wasting time in the sacred training ground?"
Suppressing my anger, I slowly turned.
The soldier who tried to stop him gave up, covering his face and shaking his head.
The big guy who hit me was huffing, face flushed with excitement.
"Show him, Hans!"
"Beat him so he never comes near the grounds again!"
Soldiers had surrounded us in a circle before I realized it.
"Kill him!!"
Their excitement kept rising.
The big guy sneered at me and spat,
"You, just some outsider from a cheap inn."
At that moment, something in me snapped.
"This is ridiculous."
"... What?"
"That whole 'just an outsider' garbage—who started that trend?"
"Kehak. Kehahat! What's this little outsider yapping about?!"
I'd decided.
I wasn't going to hold back.
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