Chapter 15
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Black Wolf Mercenary Group - 8
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"The captain lost?"
"A m-monster!"
Whether Wolf was the leader of this mercenary group or not.
The mercenaries' morale plummeted in an instant, and they all began fleeing helter-skelter.
'Well, if he wasn't the captain, his strength would have been suspiciously overwhelming.'
I'd gotten lucky and won. If that sword of his had been just a bit longer, I would've been the one dying instead of him.
"You want me to use that sword? What a novel last wish."
I picked up Wolf's fallen sword.
It didn't shimmer with the same blue aura he'd wielded it with, but its pristine white blade gleamed like a masterwork sword anyone would recognize at a glance.
"Guess I'll use it to cut down your underlings then."
The battle wasn't over yet.
With their leader dead and morale shattered, the mercenaries would flee, but some might seek revenge. Plus, I spotted others still looting the village while it lay mostly empty of people.
So it wouldn't end until I'd killed them all.
"What? Wolf's dead?"
The news of Captain Wolf's death hit Aaron so hard he could barely stand.
He simply couldn't believe his leader had been defeated.
Who was Wolf, after all?
Born of lowly status, he hadn't been formally knighted, but he was one of the empire's top talents.
Had he joined a knightly order properly, he surely would have earned a fourth-rank knight's title.
He'd simply chosen not to, thanks to his free-spirited nature and disdain for rules—though he had every bit of potential needed.
And yet he'd lost? To some villager in this backwater hamlet?
What kind of monster was lurking here...?
"We're retreating."
"Huh? The others haven't even arrived yet."
"Abandon them. They're done for anyway."
We'd poked a beehive with a monster inside. Trying to rescue the men now would just feed us to the beast.
"The Black Wolf Mercenary Group ends today."
"No way..."
To his subordinate, Aaron's call seemed brutally cold and premature. But Aaron never second-guessed it.
His judgment had never failed him once.
Unfortunately,
'I figured there'd be someone scheming from the shadows.'
The monster wasn't just any monster—it was a monster hunter.
Such a predator wouldn't let intruders escape its territory.
"That's Robera?"
"So this sword's called Robera."
Seeing the mithril magic sword Robera that Wolf favored, Aaron realized the man before him was the village's monster. He spoke up quickly.
"Hear me out for a moment. I've got a fortune in gold."
Aaron tried bribing him with his retirement savings, but the man had no intention of forgiving someone who'd targeted his family.
Crunch!
"Gaaah!"
With both arms severed, Aaron glared resentfully at the man before him.
"Why?! I offered you gold!"
"Didn't ask."
The man stared back oddly, clearly done talking. With a clean stroke, Robera took Aaron's head.
That day, the Black Wolf Mercenary Group was annihilated by a single monster.
The battle was over.
But its aftermath still scarred the village.
Over half the houses had burned down, and five of the twenty militia members lay dead.
The village had already lost more than half its young men in the war, and now this raid claimed more.
The Village Chief and elders had their work cut out for them.
"It's a miracle! A miracle!"
Even so, the villagers cheered through their tears.
They'd lost far less than against a full mercenary band.
'With that kind of force, the whole village could've been razed flat.'
Despite the overwhelming odds, they'd held with half intact—a miracle, as everyone said.
"Sian."
"Yes, Village Chief."
"You're our village's hero. Truly, thank you."
"Hero... I don't care for flashy titles like that. Besides."
I glanced at the wounded militia.
"We all fought hard and won together. Don't pin it all on me."
"Puhahaha! That's why I like you, Sian."
Tom burst into laughter.
Sure, I'd killed most of the mercenaries, but without the villagers' help, we couldn't have held. Conversely, if Wolf's men had supported him properly, I wouldn't have won.
That made all the difference.
"Joy and grief can wait. Let's clean up first."
Still, losses brought gains too.
This wealthy band carried valuable gear apiece, and some had gold coins on them.
"How about we give the gold to the families of the fallen militia?"
"Good idea."
The Village Chief agreed, and no one objected.
What? Am I the only one with a voice here? Speak up, you guys. I'm not the only one with opinions.
"Urgh... Could I see that sword?"
"Carlson, rest like a wounded man should."
Aside from minor scrapes, the injured were Carlson, Johnson, and Leon.
Carlson from Wolf's blow, Johnson from guarding Carlson, and Leon shot in the shoulder by sniper fire from the watchtower.
"Here, take these potions first."
"Us? With something this rare? I can't accept."
Carlson hesitated out of propriety, but Johnson had already gulped his down.
"Johnson..."
"Oh, weren't we supposed to?"
"We are. Take it."
"But this is too precious to accept shamelessly."
"It's fine. The Village Chief covered it from village funds. And shameless? You fought for the village and got hurt."
"Sniff... If you put it that way, I'll put it to good use."
Carlson fidgeted, eyes on me—or rather, on Robera, my gift from Wolf.
A swordsman through and through, hooked on a fine blade.
"What about this one's body?"
"Yes, he's too unpredictable."
We burned all the mercenaries' corpses.
No sense attracting beasts or monsters. Tedious, but thorough.
Wolf's alone we preserved.
"His skill marks him no ordinary man. Could be some noble's son or a famed knight's disciple."
"I see."
"His allies might seek revenge. Keeping the body intact gives us grounds to fend them off."
"Understood. We'll preserve it properly."
"Thanks."
I handed Wolf's body to the makeshift morgue and headed home.
"Honey!"
Chloe ran to me and threw herself into my arms.
"Are you okay? Hurt anywhere...?"
"I'm fine."
I had wounds from Wolf, but I spared my worried wife the details.
No need to make her suffer.
Chloe, your pain is mine.
"Thank you, honey."
"Just doing my duty as head of the family."
"I know. That's why I feel so bad. I couldn't do anything."
"Not true. Chloe, having you gave me the win."
Before marriage, facing a powerhouse like Wolf, I would've avoided the fight.
I'd have studied his habits, traits, everything—then hunted him.
That recent clash was a gamble for me.
But I won through sheer desperation to prevail.
I knew fleeing would endanger my family—Chloe most of all—so I stood and beat him.
"I love you, Chloe."
"I love you too."
Sensing my heart, she said no more and kissed me.
Exchanging breath and saliva, I felt alive today.
The next day.
The village held a meeting again.
Topics: aiding hands for families who'd lost homes, and who would care for the widows and orphans from the battle dead.
The first resolved quickly.
Winter loomed, leaving everyone with spare labor.
The second proved trickier. Taking on more dependents wasn't easy; folks eyed each other warily.
"Hey, Kan, aren't those kids your kin?"
"You rotten bastard! What about you?"
"Ahem, we've got enough mouths already."
As they shirked, Carlson raised his hand.
"I'll take responsibility."
"You? No blood ties, right?"
"None. But their fathers died on my orders. The blame's partly mine. I'll raise them."
Carlson looked heroic in that moment.
That's true leadership!
I respect him!
"If that's your will, fine. Finally, what of Elsia, Garom's widow, and her daughter Elin?"
The lame miller's wife and daughter—the mother-daughter pair I'd saved.
Garom must've died in the chaos?
"Elsia... she's a real beauty."
"Yeah, second only to Sylvia in the village."
"If only her temper wasn't so foul."
The men seemed more reluctant than with the orphans.
Curious, I asked Tom beside me.
"What's the deal?"
"Oh, you don't know Elsia? Village beauty, second to Sylvia."
"I've met her. Stunning, but the men's revulsion is odd."
"Haha, unavoidable. Unlike sweet Sylvia, Elsia's as prickly as they come."
"Huh?"
Tom's words clashed with my impression.
The Elsia I'd seen didn't fit that at all.
"Her merchant father rubbed off; she tallies every ledger, wears everyone out."
"I see."
I half-listened, half-ignored Tom's words. None of my business anyway.
Or so I thought.
Until then.