Traveling Companions (1)
“One more.”
Valerius tossed another coin onto the table to order an extra drink, then rose from his seat.
“Excuse me for a moment.” He gave Yanes a nod of apology.
“Don’t look back.”
With those words, Valerius’s massive frame vanished. In an instant, he was right in front of Billoy.
“You bas—...”
Crack.
Before Billoy could finish his sentence, Valerius’s hand shot out. A single slap sent him flying like a cannonball, smashing into the wall. He was still twitching faintly, unconscious but alive.
‘He’s insane.’
A bead of cold sweat trickled down the face of Sophia, the guard knight standing just ahead of Billoy. She was skilled enough to serve as vice-captain in any knight order. Yet even she hadn’t caught a glimpse of Valerius’s movement.
“Good instincts. Solid build too. You’ll be a Master in no time.”
Thud thud.
The pressure of his gauntleted hand tapping her armor felt impossibly heavy. This was the power of a Master—one of the fewer than seventy on the entire continent.
“Th-thank you, sir.”
Sophia swallowed hard and expressed her gratitude. It was a chilling experience, but hearing well-wishes from a senior warrior made it worthwhile.
With the matter settled, Valerius returned to the bar table and sipped from his fresh glass.
“Family business, you see.”
“...It’s fine.”
Yanes wasn’t stupid. A slight turn of her head would reveal Billoy embedded in the wall, still twitching. It felt like a show of force, but the compliment to Sophia suggested otherwise. This must be his everyday way of handling things. Brutal, to say the least.
“So, who’s this intriguing lady? I hadn’t heard Billoy was in business with anyone.”
“Ahem. That deal has nothing to do with us, first off.”
“I know, I know. My failure as a father figure.”
“...I’m Yanes Valbasor. Head of the Valbasor Merchant Company.”
“...Huh? Yanes?”
Valerius’s eyes widened. Yanes Valbasor was a character from the original story. Isolde’s secretary and biggest backer, operator of the Valbasor Merchant Company. Naturally, she’d tormented the heroine under Isolde’s orders and paid the price. A mid-boss, if anything.
‘How did she die again?’
Amid the chaos of the idiotic Isolde and the wretched young lord tearing the North apart, she’d somehow unified the region and resisted to the bitter end. Of course, her many misdeeds and karma caught up, leading to her downfall with the North.
“You know me?”
“The Valbasor Merchant Company. And the Valbasor family, yeah.”
The Valbasors were a fallen noble house. A prestigious magical lineage that produced countless court mages and Ma Tower lords, creators of numerous spells. They’d collapsed for some reason, losing most of their secret arts.
“Hmm. Hmmm.”
Valerius eyed her subtly. Sunk in her family’s faded glory and thirst for magical knowledge, she’d eventually turned to dark magic and become a vampire. At least she didn’t seem there yet.
“Wh-what is it?”
“Nothing. So, what’s the talk about?”
Startled by his sharp gaze, Yanes blurted out the question. Deeming her untainted by darkness, Valerius brushed it off and lit the cigar. A merchant gifting a cigar was code for “we talk till it’s ash.” And a good one at that—worth the time.
“Curious, for one. And thought we might discuss expanding business.”
“Business, huh.”
He nodded, willing to hear her out.
“I need something from the black market.”
“...Black market. And?”
“Even if it’s inconvenient, could you stay out of it until the market ends? I’ll handle costs or whatever.”
She was asking him to sit this one out—just this once. She figured the Topsol Kill Gang would rampage over the slaves flooding the market.
‘Sharp mind.’
She knew the gang’s nature and predicted the godfather’s moves. Her proposal toed the line perfectly without overstepping.
“In return, I’ll double your brewery supply for three months. Keep the deal going too.”
And a bold carrot to boot.
‘Not bad.’
In this barbaric medieval world, nobles were clever operators. Unfortunately, Valerius lacked such minds around him. Raven, whom he saw as a brother, was the closest.
“Hmmm. Slurp.”
“Wh-what? Don’t make that face!”
“What? Got a problem with my face?”
“Your expression!”
Yanes recoiled at Valerius smacking his lips while eyeing her. It wasn’t sexual—just like he’d physically devour her. The former was unpleasant; the latter chilled her to the bone.
“Needed an info broker anyway. What’s with the black market?”
She hesitated at his words, her face screaming reluctance. But her situation left little choice.
“It’s for the Night Spirit.”
“...Ah, yeah. Want to contract a Night Spirit? Makes sense—the Valbasors pass down spirit magic too.”
“H-how did you...?”
Yanes’s eyes flashed. This stranger had pierced her secret—never shared with anyone—based on her family name alone.
‘No info network, probably.’
Pure insight. The observational prowess of the war hero who’d normalized the hellish southern front.
‘Original knowledge is OP.’
He’d known anyway, but it helped. Valerius easily guessed her desire and saw potential to use her.
“I’ll help with that.”
“...Buying the spirit?”
“Yeah. Spirits only.”
“...”
Yanes’s eyes darted. Valerius chuckled.
“Oh? Not the spirit—you want the spirit contractor?”
“...”
“Tricky. Spirits contracted to a summoner return to their realm upon death. Can’t break it before then.”
Common knowledge, learned naturally in this world. But Yanes knew better.
“I see. Sounds like there’s a way.”
Trembling, Yanes faced his deduction. She’d come to watch the godfather, only to have her plans stripped bare.
And this was the war hero who’d slain nobles outright. No backing out now. Securing the Night Spirit had cost her five years of time and money. Failure would delay her family’s revival by a decade.
“No! I can’t let that happen!”
Suddenly, Yanes shot to her feet. She recalled her days as a fallen noble, clinging to family pride through adversity. She’d overcome countless trials— this was just another!
“Th-there’s a way to transfer the spirit! Without harming the contractor! A humane way—even the godfather can’t object!”
She declared boldly. Her speech was rough and impolite, but Valerius valued propriety. No deaths in this blood-soaked place proved it. As long as she didn’t cross his line, he wouldn’t care.
“Sure, whatever.”
And she was right. Valerius had no issue with it. The Night Spirit was useless without the heroine anyway. His goal was just preventing her enslavement.
He’d pressured Yanes for fun, not grudge.
“Eh? R-really?”
“Do what you want. I’ll back you.”
“...This easy?”
Yanes looked dumbfounded. After all that pressure, now he was like a generous uncle. Why?
“Good deed, isn’t it? Long as it doesn’t hurt the contractor. Otherwise, things get messy.”
Valerius felt nothing for Yanes. Useful? He’d use her.
“Oh, and drop the business here. At least in this city.”
“Why?”
“Topsol Kill Gang’s pulling out. They’ll operate as my Black Lion Guerrilla now.”
“Ah...”
Yanes’s mind raced. Her brewery’s peace relied on the gang’s protection. Without their vigilante role, crime would explode.
“...Got it. Good intel.”
Plenty to balance the deal.
“Yeah. But bring info quick. Need anything, hit me up. I’ll cooperate fully.”
With her strong independence and pride, this nudge would suffice—she’d handle the rest. He’d listen, then join casually. Worried if they caught the contractor? Ignore if not the heroine; rescue and hand off if she was.
His gaze sharpened as the two women departed. He’d tangled with the original villainess by chance.
‘Better than Isolde or the others, though.’
Nature didn’t change. She’d end up Isolde’s lackey per canon. Deal with her now or later?
‘Watch for now.’
Valerius took a deep drag on the cigar. Rich smoke filled his lungs, washing away the stench of blood.