Chapter 98 : The Mercenary Bureau’s First Request (12)
Chapter 98: The Mercenary Bureau’s First Request (12)
The fierce battle ended.
Ragnarsson ordered the march to stop and commanded the men to pitch their tents.
He then distributed various allowances and spoils of war to the mercenaries. Shatien took a portion of the amount he received from Ragnarsson and paid it out again to the mercenaries as a separate bonus.
“Next.”
A mercenary with a severed arm walked forward. Shatien felt a pang of pity.
“Tsk. Is your arm alright?”
“Of course. Now that it is cut off, it no longer hurts. I am worried about making a living, but things will work out somehow, right? Hahaha.”
The mercenary spoke with an awkward laugh. Still, it was better than his fallen comrades.
“I see. Congratulations on your retirement.”
Shatien let out a bitter smile and handed the mercenary his share.
-Clink.
The bag was quite heavy. The mercenary opened the pouch and gasped in surprise. Even considering retirement pay, it contained an excessive amount of money.
“There’s so much….”
“I added my own share to it. The devotion you showed is not something that should end with a mere pittance. And….”
Shatien took a letter from his tunic and handed it to the mercenary.
“What is this, Captain?”
“Go to the merchant guild and submit this. It is a letter of recommendation. Since you know how to handle horses, if you give this to the guild, you can at least get a job as a local stable keeper. That should be plenty even with one arm, shouldn't it?”
“...”
The mercenary’s eyes grew red. Soon, thick tears streamed down his face.
“Kuhuhuk. Thank you. Centurion Shatien. I will never forget this grace.”
“Tsk. Why is a grown man crying? Stop it at once!”
“Kuhuk. But still. To take care of me like this. Kuhuhuk.”
The mercenary wiped his nose and tears with his sleeve. A wave of quiet emotion rose among the mercenaries waiting behind him. To take care of even the wounded mercenaries.
There was likely no other mercenary centurion on the entire continent who was this humane.
‘As expected of Sir Shatien.’
‘I am truly lucky to have come here.’
‘It is a mercenary's life anyway. It is good to live in a place like this.’
Shatien glanced at the faces of the mercenaries. Loyalty was clearly visible in their moist eyes.
‘Good. Very nice.’
There was nothing more frustrating than a mercenary one had carefully raised leaving or becoming independent. It was better to show that he took responsibility until the very end.
Plus, it cleared the discomfort in the corner of his mind.
Since Ragnarsson had purchased a large quantity of the armor obtained this time, gold coins were overflowing. It was a level where he could form another centuria if he only received permission.
“Next.”
“…There seems to be no one else.”
“Good. You all worked hard. Rest until the next command.”
“Understood, Centurion.”
“You worked hard too, Centurion.”
Shatien dismissed the mercenaries and looked back at a chair.
Renalf, the rebel knight captured recently, sat there quietly. Since there was no proper place to imprison him, Shatien had tied his own arm to Renalf’s with a rope.
Renalf spoke as soon as their eyes met.
“Hohoho. I was deeply moved. Sir Shatien. Could you show that same mercy you have for your mercenaries to me? I will never forget this grace. I swear it on my honor.”
Shatien let out a smirk.
The man was likely saying those things because he didn't want to die... But what did honor matter to a rebel knight who had already thrown everything away?
The duality of these knights was truly uncomfortable.
“I am sorry. I don’t particularly have any mercy to show you. Do I?”
Shatien spoke while flicking Renalf’s sword. The blade vibrated and emitted a clear sound.
Only then did Knight Renalf swallow hard.
‘I will die instantly if I slip up with my tongue. As the rumors say, this man has no hesitation in killing nobles.’
Furthermore, Renalf had no family to pay his ransom. Revenge? All the connections who might seek such a thing had died in the previous battle.
“Uh… I think speaking with words would be sufficient. Like a noble. Dignity? Isn't dignity a good thing? Haha.”
“Hahaha. Dignity? A conversation? A conversation is good. Then… Sir Renalf. Shall we have a little chat?”
At the somewhat familiar repertoire, the rebel knight Renalf felt a chill down his spine.
“B-But! If possible, how about talking in a bright place with many people! Right? Please!”
It was a judgment made under the assumption that he wouldn't be treated poorly if many people were around.
After all, he was a knight and a noble. Of course, Shatien had no intention of complying.
“Hmmmm. That's strange. Does a rebel knight like bright places? Ah! Now that I think about it, you did attack in broad daylight!”
Renalf, caught off guard, made an excuse.
“Ahem. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.”
“If I forgive you, do the dead come back to life? Or do those injured because of you recover?”
“No, that is not it. Kuheock. Keck. Keokeokeock!”
Shatien grabbed Renalf by the neck and lifted him. Then he dragged him into his tent.
“Are you goi… to… k-kill… me… Kuhuk!”
“What? You want me to kill you?”
“No! No! Sir Shatien! Please. Kuhuk! Save me!”
-Thud.
Shatien threw Renalf onto the floor. Finally, unable to bear the insult, the rebel knight shouted.
“You who know no honor!! Fine, just kill me! Kill me!! You filthy mercenary. To ignore the customs of nobles and speak like this! Arghhhh!”
“Hmm. Now that I think about it, it seems eyes are not necessary for a conversation. Since I am a filthy mercenary, as someone said.”
Only then did Renalf realize his mistake and shouted hurriedly.
“No, Sir! Sir Shatien. Just say the word. Should I confess the location of the remnants? Hehe.”
Shatien shook his head.
“No. I am not even curious about the location of some rebel knight remnants.”
“T-Then?”
“It is simple. Give me the name of the man who told you to attack us. Then I will release you immediately.”
A smile spread across Knight Renalf’s lips.
‘I am saved!!’
To think it was for such a reason. Since he didn't get along with that person anyway, he felt no guilt. If it was that, he could say it a thousand times.
“T-That is not difficult! His name is Waldheim. From what I know, he is of peasant origin who learned some letters at a church!”
Shatien frowned at those words. Not Balud, but Waldheim?
‘What is going on now?’
From all the circumstances, it was clear the enemy had an extraordinary strategist. He naturally thought that strategist would be Balud, but to hear the name Waldheim out of nowhere. It was a name he had never heard before.
‘Hmm. I planned to find and deal with Balud before he grew too large. This is unexpected.’
The thought he once had about letting Balud go to buy time was truly a stupid one. The Northern rebels Shatien experienced were not weak enough to be careless around.
On the contrary, they were dangerous.
Dangerous enough for the tide of war to collapse if he made a mistake. What if the famous and great Balud appeared in the midst of that? The mercenary group participating in the Northern war could suffer great damage for no reason.
‘I don't understand. Just what is going on?’
His head throbbed.
He was confused by the unexpected variable. Did this mean he had to kill this man named Waldheim first?
In the meantime, Knight Renalf was proudly demanding his release.
“Now. Keep your honor and release me as promised. Sir.”
“Hmm. Is it really Waldheim?”
“Of course. Why would I lie? His name is truly Waldheim. He is negotiating with each noble by rallying the power of the serfs. He is becoming the leader of the rebels before we know it. Though he and I don't get along….”
A noble jealous of a serf. It was consistent. In a way it was pitiful, and in another way, it was just a mass of inferiority complex.
“D-Don't look at me like that. You will have a similar impression once you meet Waldheim.”
“Hmm?”
Shatien smirked at Knight Renalf’s words.
“A similar impression?”
How did Renalf think he knew him to say such a thing?
“I value myself. My appearance as I improve day by day. I am not a fool who falls into despair by comparing myself to others like you.”
“E-Eek!”
It was a deeply insulting remark, but Sir Renalf could not bring himself to retort.
Because it was the truth.
And Shatien clicked his tongue and released Renalf.
“Go.”
“?! Can I really?”
“Yes. You are… not my opponent anyway.”
He had already grown too much to be compared to such small fry.
Before he knew it… an ordinary knight could no longer dare to approach Shatien.
* * *
That evening, after releasing Sir Renalf.
Shatien headed to Ragnarsson’s tent to attend a banquet celebrating the victory.
“Kuhahahaha! Bring more mead!”
“Tsk. Those rebel bastards were nothing.”
“Right, we just need to keep going like this.”
The boisterous laughter of the Elf knights could be heard from the entrance of the tent.
-Swish.
Shatien pushed aside the tent flap and stepped inside. He was slightly taken aback by the scene before him.
‘Is this a tent or a stable? No, is this even a festival?’
Plates rolled on the ground and discarded food was everywhere. Parts of the floor were damp with what was either saliva or drink.
To play so messily in a lord's tent. If a Southern noble had seen this, it would have been a scandal.
Nevertheless, no one cared. To them, their lord Ragnarsson’s tent was no different from a gathering place to flaunt their friendship.
“Uwahaha! Sir Shatien. You have come!”
Ragnarsson shouted when he spotted Shatien.
“Ah, Viscount. Congratulations on the victory.”
“Congratulations my ass! Did I fight alone? We all did it together, didn't we?”
“Uwahahahaha. That is right, Viscount!”
Everyone burst into laughter at Ragnarsson’s words.
“Now, sit here. I have a lot to talk to you about.”
“Talk?”
Shatien tilted his head as he sat down. What would there be to talk about with him?
“Yes. To be honest, I was a bit skeptical about your mercenary group. I wondered if you would fit the battlefield conditions of the North.”
“Ah, I understand, Viscount.”
“But seeing this battle, I was a fool. By any chance… Can you increase the number of mercenaries sent here?”
“Pardon?”
“I will issue a recruitment permit in your name. I am telling you to grow your size by recruiting more mercenaries. I will send a letter to Baron Mordo to get permission for everything else. How about it?”
It was a fantastic proposal.
To recruit more mercenaries.
Did that not mean he could form a large mercenary force of nearly 1,000 men? Therefore, Shatien replied.
“Of course I will, Viscount.”
The dream of reconstructing his family.
He had moved one step closer toward it.