Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Black Wyvern Mercenary Corps
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"What kind of road is this?"
I hadn't expected a smooth highway from the start, but the endless plains and low hills stretching on forever were starting to get on my nerves.
"Am I lost?"
After giving the viscount a good thrashing, I'd galloped off blindly on horseback.
No need to head to the castle, so I'd just aimed roughly north.
The sun was already setting, but there wasn't a single sign of human habitation.
"No maps or navigation in this damn world. Am I seriously going to get lost like an idiot?"
The village chief had said this was the Dafis Kingdom on the southern continent.
That's why I'd headed north, but all that greeted me was empty wasteland.
"Am I gonna have to sleep out here and catch the night dew?"
All I had on the horse was a bag with some bread and a canteen.
"No magic stone powder, so I can't even deploy a magic circle...."
Countless magic circles flashed through my mind.
Alarm spells, defensive spells, warming spells—plenty useful for camping.
But I didn't have the crucial magic stone powder.
'What's the point of having money if there's nowhere to spend it.'
I'd entrusted 40,000 gold to Zamer for the village, and left 4,500 gold with the village chief as emergency funds.
That left 10,000 gold.
Zamer, insisting it wasn't pocket change, had given me an iron medallion issued by the governor merchant, redeemable at any Rubis Merchant Guild branch.
Just say my name at a branch, and I'd get 10,000 gold in cash or goods.
The problem was, even with money, there were no shops in this barren wilderness—not even for a lollipop.
Stepping out your door to 24-hour convenience stores and shops everywhere—21st-century life suddenly felt so distant.
"Huh, what's that!"
As I missed Korea, a thin plume of smoke shot up into the distant sky.
"Oh, yes!"
My frustration melted away.
Like receiving a bottle of Samdasoo when parched.
"Run, Honawud!"
I'd named the horse I'd ride with for this short time Honawud.
Hiiing!
Honawud, who had been relaxing, let out a long neigh and charged forward vigorously.
I desperately hoped the people there were kind folks who could offer dinner and a place to sleep.
"Halt! Come any closer, and we'll shoot!"
Reaching the source of the rising smoke, I saw dozens of wagons and a group of people.
And a dozen mercenaries with arrows nocked, stopping my joyful gallop.
'Some welcome.'
Meeting people on the road, and instead of a friendly hello, they shove arrows in your face.
No different from Harlem in New York, where they lead with the gun barrel.
'Hmm? Aren't these guys familiar?'
About 50 meters away.
Among the mercenaries drawing taut bows, a few faces rang a bell.
"Hey, isn't that the kid?"
"The one from that backwater village whose balls were full of guts?"
"Captain! Captain! Come here!"
Not just me—they recognized me too.
'Damn, of all people....'
The self-proclaimed third-rate Black Wyvern Mercenary Corps that had escorted Daron's merchant group to the village.
"Hey! You rude little brat! What business brings you fearlessly here?"
"Puhaha! Ron, better watch your back tonight. Looks like the kid's here for revenge."
'Ugh, fate's a funny thing.'
A burly mercenary named Ron, with a jiggling belly and wielding an axe, stepped forward to greet me—sort of.
The others, still salty about that day, teased him.
"What's going on?"
The mercenary captain appeared at their call, asking what was up.
'Can't you tell? I'm a runaway teen with no home to go to?'
"Haha! Hello, Captain. I've got big dreams now and want to throw myself into the mercenary life. If you haven't forgotten your promise from last time, I'll work my ass off."
"Throw yourself in? Haha! What an amusing kid. Come here. Looks like you ran away from the village—eaten yet?"
'If you see it that way, suits me fine.'
Better they didn't know I was a mage.
My knowledge of this world was still lacking.
Wandering mercenaries probably knew more than most.
"Thank you!"
I'd edged my horse closer during the talk, down to 20 meters.
The wary mercenaries lowered their bows, and soon I reined in beside the Black Wyvern captain.
"Did your parents approve?"
The captain, clueless about my background.
'Would you let your kid go?'
A pointless question from him.
"If a man's cock stands stiff every morning, he follows the man's path over his parents' wishes! You ran away at fifteen too, right, Captain?"
Ron spewed sweat-drenched words.
"Damn right. Welcome. I'm His, captain of the Black Wyvern."
'The captain's got a bit of mana aura.'
Unlike the mountain-bandit-like others, His exuded a faint mana presence.
"I'm Kaier. Please take care of me, Captain."
"Good! Kaier, let's make it work."
His extended a hand for a shake.
"Captain His, what's this?"
Just as I reached out, a middle-aged man in his mid-forties, robed, approached.
"Mr. Hamer, this is the boy who wanted to join us recently. We're welcoming him."
"That boy? Hmm, is his identity verified?"
The man eyed me up and down like merchandise.
Probably a hiring merchant.
"It's solid. He's from Luna Village in Piyor Viscount Territory."
"Not a bad look. Fine. As long as he doesn't hinder the caravan, what do I care."
"Haha, no worries. The Black Wyvern Mercenary Corps values honesty and diligence."
"....."
Hamer stared blankly at His's words, then quietly turned back to the merchants' campfire.
'Puhahaha!'
I nearly burst out laughing but held it in.
No telling how long I'd be with this group.
Couldn't spit on my own face.
"Kid, what's with the horse? Village wasn't rich—must've cleaned 'em out. I took two goats when I ran; kids these days got balls."
Ron admired Honawud, lumping me in with bold modern youth.
'Earth or here, no difference. Tradition to grab loot when running away....'
Old sages were right—human nature's universal on the Kallian Continent.
And so, I became a mercenary.
To acquire a new job skill after farmer and fisherman.
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"Grah! Back then, when I knocked her down in the wheat field, the moon was so bright. If her hunter dad found us, he'd have shot us dead—but I wasn't scared. The fresh wheat scent, her trembling in my arms. Kyaa, my heart pounded...."
"S-so, what happened?"
"Damn, get to the good part!"
'Ugh, these uncles.'
Not watching porn, but Ron bragging his glorious past while guarding the caravan, surrounded by wide-eyed, salivating mercenaries.
Felt like a Korean high school classroom with guys huddled in secret during break.
Daehan High School, gathering the nation's top talents, but breaks were all whispers about the steamy sex world.
Friends swapping porn and hentai via email, or these drooling uncle mercenaries—same male antics.
"What d'you mean? Lycanslopes raided the village right then—I went out half-naked to fight. Ugh! Those shit-eating Lycanslopes!"
"T-that's it? What about the wheat field virgin?"
"Hic, can't tell the rest without booze. Still breaks my heart! Waaah! My love, Sisnia!"
Ron, surprisingly sensitive for his bulk.
He roared like a Siberian bear, shaking his meaty frame.
"Damn, that faithless bitch waited for me—or so I thought. Lycanslope took her instead.... Those bastards! I'd slobbered all over her! Grr, so unfair! Unfair!"
"W-what? That's the end?"
"So you didn't even bang Sisnia and lost her to a Lycanslope?"
"Not the end—I trained bloody under the village militia captain for a year, then hunted 'em down. But I wish I hadn't."
"Why?"
Ron's tale veered weird, but hooked you somehow.
"Damn, that disloyal slut fell for the Lycanslope, popped out pups, living happily! Ugh! Forgot mighty Ron for a Lycanslope! Shocked, I stole the chief's two goats and ran. And as you know... became invincible mercenary Ron! Umhahhahahaha!"
'Clear terminal schizophrenia. Tsk tsk.'
Ending as absurd as moon rabbits losing mill and moon to loan shark rabbits, exiled to Mars for unpaid debts.
"You lying sack, Ron!"
"I feel like a fool for falling for it!"
Mercenaries turned from him in rage.
'Mercenary life's easier than thought.'
Boring caravan guard duty—riding or walking at wagon pace.
No danger or tension like imagined.
"How's it going? Manageable?"
Captain His sidled up, asking if it suited me.
'One day in, and you ask?'
Joined last night; half a day later, this.
What insight from scouting a village boy?
"It's alright. Floating clouds are nice, that flying bird over there too...."
"Right? Haha! Knew it. You, with your tender heart, perfect for mercenary romance."
'What're you getting at?'
"Stick with me a bit. We'll survive long and thin in merc life, make our corps a top-tier one with a Sky Knight!"
'Sky Knight-owning top-tier corps!'
Ears perked at the info.
"Can mercs own wyverns too?"
"'Course! Buy from Mercenary Kingdom Ruber. Cheapest one's 2 million gold in imperial currency—so grind hard!"
'2 million gold? That's viscountcy price!'
Zamer said small baronies traded 3-5 million among nobles. Wyvern matched that.
'Merc corps make bank?'
This crew barely scraped 1,000 gold yearly, let alone 2 million.
No sense.
"Captain, how much do we get for this caravan?"
"Pay? For this month-long job, my Aura Blade share's 30 gold, others 3 each—total just under 100. Why?"
'100 gold? Saving nothing, starving—how many years?'
Rough math: 1,200 yearly, 12,000 in ten, 120,000 in a century.
'You kidding? Treats me like math-illiterate fool! Grr!'
Better tuna fishing or beast hunting for wyvern cash.
Faith in His and his Black Wyvern-named crew shattered.
"H-ha! Just curious. Sky Knights must be amazing at 2 million...."
"'Course! Every man's dream on the continent! Sky knights, aerial lords! Wyvern with vast wings, long sword at side, commanding skies and earth—hero of heroes! Doesn't it stir you? Look, that eagle!"
'Write a novel, why don't you!'
His, clearly off his rocker—untested, but obvious.
No different from the big dumb mercs giggling along.
'Sky Knight, huh....'
Even lowly corps dreamed of wyverns.
Deep desire to own one surged.
"Uh, Captain."
"Yeah? What, Kaier?"
"Can a regular mage beat a Sky Knight knight?"
"What nonsense! Ever hear orc beat ogre on steroids?"
"N-no."
"Exactly. Your question's that absurd. Sky Knights soar kilometers high, raining magic spears—how's a knight match? Mages can't shoot that far, weak physically too—frog on arrow to Sky Knight's will-reactive spears. No knight or mage ever downed one historically. Well, one."
"Huh? Someone beat a Sky Knight?"
I'd downed one—viscount up close, blind luck—but couldn't say.
'Who tanked a plane with a tank shell?'
Curious.
"The legendary mage now.... My grandma said even crying kids stopped at his name."
'Whoa? Scarier than plague?'
Scarier than video warnings.
"Continent's thug mage, vanished a century ago. Might've heard—rumor all empires, kingdoms' mages and tower lords trapped and killed him."
'Hmm? Century ago? All mages? Sounds familiar.'
Master's era matched—Kallian century back.
Chill crawled my spine.
"Peerless 8th Circle archmage! White mage, yet outdid any necromancer or black mage in cruelty—golden-eyed reaper! His name...."
"Idal?"
Master's name slipped unconsciously.
"Huh? You knew. Yeah, golden-eyed reaper Idal alone split Sky Knights from the sky."
"Gasp!"
Vowed not to flinch, but master's infamy—worse than history's cruelest black mages—drew a yelp.
'Ugh, figures. Gandalf master's no justice apostle!'
His letter listed blood enemies briefly.
He claimed kingdoms sent gifts yearly, begged to serve, funded endless research.
Total bullshit.
"Didn't see it, but bard songs say Idal's tyranny was epic. At 100, obsessed with pretty girls and gold. Savage temper—burned a top tower and dozens of mages alive for calling him 'evil' once. Only mage deemed crueler than monsters or demons: Idal."
'Never utter Idal again, or I'm amoeba, amoeba!'
Gandalf master's rep boomed here.
Demon lord treatment for sure.
"Truly evil mage."
"Yeah? Only one nastier than demons.... Used a kingdom's yearly budget solo—insane."
'Cough! Master, you're the boss!'
Solo kingdom-budget spender.
Nobly "donated" by empires/kingdoms—his crimes unspeakable.
Proud mages united, shipped master to another world for "tourism."
"Anyway, taming wyverns needs skill—any training spots? Knight schools?"
"Knight schools? Sure. Sky Knights measure national power—law mandates ownership. Kingdoms run schools."
"Not easy entry?"
"Duh! Costs a fortune per knight; one wyvern matches a territory's force. Defection cripples military. Only verified nobles and heirs allowed. Unknown to you, but wyvern-defecting families get treason punishment."
'That strict?'
Korea checked lineage for military academy once—not this bad.
'Noble route tough too?'
Wanted cool wyvern flight beyond Sky Knight.
'Fly moonlit ocean with Armis.'
Main goal separate.
"Any easier Sky Knight path?"
"Easier? Told you: earn 2 mil, buy in Ruber...."
'Always money....'
Me, building Earth-missed paradise on Kallian.
Sky Knights key.
Seemed power measured by wyverns/Sky Knights, not troops.
"Oh! Another way."
"Another?"
"Not impossible sans noble blood."
"What?"
'Tease master, huh?'
His's sly eloquence irked.
"Under 30, 4th Circle+ mage or Aura Blade knight-level? Eligible for Sky Knight school."
'Huh? That's me!'
Talent respected everywhere—universal truth.
"But graduate regular knight school, earn title first."
'Regular knight title?'
Sky Knight power demanded rigor.
"All wyverns look same?"
"Heh, proves you're village bumpkin. Nah, differ like people. Our corps name?"
"Black Wyvern Mercenary Corps."
"Right! Wyvern breeds vary. Researched for purchase: five types. Strongest: Bazran Empire's imperial guard Black Wyverns—northern continent lords. Muscle-bound black wings, obsidian eyes, steel claws, fire-breath. 'Little dragons'—brutal. Named corps after 'em."
'Black Wyvern! Tempting.'
Best car: powerful, big, safe.
"Hard to buy?"
"Yeah. ~40 treated near-noble in palace. Bazran's symbol—sacred."
'Phew, so much to learn.'
Ignorant of empires/kingdoms, wyvern types.
Knowledge everywhere.
"Captain."
"Yeah? Why that dopey look?"
"Please teach me lots! First strong, smart guy like you I've met! Respect you, Captain!"
"Oho! Finally see me true. Yeah, work hard—I'll push you full force."
Third-rate corps, zero push potential.
His grinned ear-to-ear at flattery.
'Live with mercs, gather intel. And....'
Uncertain 8th Circle arrival.
Vowed my Kallian kingdom.
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Crackle, crackle.
Evening meal: dry bread soaked in soup from jerky.
Airan Merchant Group's supply wagons circled defensively on plains.
'Cheapskate merchants.'
Skipped decent village for excuses, camped plains.
I'd trust village militia over third-rates for sleep.
Chilly nights made campfires cozy.
Ten guards awake; rest—mercs and merchants—in leather sleeping bags by fires.
'Dew ruins teeth, they say....'
Awkward camping.
Picked grassy spot, got stinky bag—dilemma.
Cold to sleep exposed; bag felt like meat sack.
"Grrr, grrr...."
'Sleep well, huh.'
Chatty Ron, size-mismatched, "fated" me beside him for "mercy lessons."
Now snoring happily after day's yapping.
"Times feel off, no?"
"Yeah. Decades no big war—decent living."
Three sleepless Airan merchants near me, whispering.
"Heard Raviter Empire stockpiled mithril, iron ore years—military buildup. Rockpella Guild leak, reliable. You?"
"Yeah. Border kingdoms tense. Hiring regulars, long-term mercs."
"Sigh, damn imperials. Can't handle peace—why war?"
"Yeah. Raviter moves, Bazran won't sit."
"Sigh! Five years post-drought shock, barely recovering."
Merchant-grade intel.
'Gangster nations here too.'
Like Earth's bullies, Kallian same.
"Oh, heard the news?"
"What?"
"Northern merchants: Haviss Kingdom mass-recruiting Sky Knight candidates."
"Haviss? Desperate thrashing."
"Yeah. Sandwiched by giants, Temir barbarians raiding borders.... Tsk, lasted well."
"Haviss over 400 years?"
"Ex-empire, nibbled by aggressive kingdoms—now doddering wreck awaiting death."
"Poor. Heard princess is beauty."
"Rosiatte?"
"Yeah! Northern ice flower Rosiatte! Unforgettable looks—pity."
'Rosiatte....'
Eavesdropping, name nice.
'Old kingdom squeezed by powers.... Like Korea.'
Haviss mirrored Korea's plight.
China, Japan, Russia, US hungering.
"Enough chat. Orc Valley tomorrow—sleep deep."
"Yeah. Like last, help if orcs come."
Nearby mountains hid Orc Valley.
'Sigh, moon's bright.'
Merchants quieted, crickets hushed.
Huge moon, starfall pierced eyes melancholically.
'Mom....'
Suddenly missed mom's embrace.
Irreplaceable void.
Wind felt colder tonight.