Legend of the Southern
Legend of the Southern
The mercenary who introduced himself as Pimel in the long line proved to be an excellent companion for conversation.
His very existence seemed to be a perfect mix of a typical sycophantic toady and a petty schemer, yet he was one of the more intelligent people I had met among mercenaries and adventurers. Even when I politely refused his company, he didn't just vanish but smoothly continued the conversation, saying we might as well chat since we were here anyway, sharing bits of information and making small attempts to build rapport.
He was clearly a man skilled in socializing.
The occasional hints of etiquette that slipped through, though imperfect, and the care he put into his attire suggested he might be some noble's illegitimate son or a child born out of wedlock. It wasn't uncommon for those who quickly realized they had no hope of inheriting family wealth to diligently study military science while still under protection and then switch to becoming mercenaries.
"But anyway, Mister Axe, you seem quite well-versed in decorum yourself? Are you perhaps an adventurer who only takes specialized requests dealing with nobles?"
"I simply worked at a noble's mansion for a few years."
"Ah, you must have been a very studious boy! The traces still linger to this day, I see. And yet, you're working as an adventurer despite that, which means your skills must be quite exceptional, no?"
His attempts to pump me for information while subtly flattering me were incredibly natural. Though it was a bit amusing that he arbitrarily guessed my age and used the expression 'still to this day.'
Even that was accompanied by an overtly sly smile that fully revealed his intent, which, contrary to his expression, came off as humorous rather than unpleasant or off-putting.
"I simply failed to adapt despite learning diligently. I was only lucky enough not to die, one way or another."
"Humble as well! This is truly a shame. You're exactly the kind of valuable talent our mercenary band needs!"
As he said this, he naturally tapped the emblem engraved on his breastplate—tap, tap—guiding my gaze toward it. It wasn't something meticulously carved with dye but rather a clumsily rendered image of a rose with a broken neck, hammered out roughly with chisel and hammer. It looked deliberately comical, but judging from the impression this man had given me, even this seemed like nothing more than a device to make it memorable. Was he someone with a tremendous talent for entertainment?
"Though I hold only a humble position handling negotiations with unremarkable skills, every single person in our Broken Rose Mercenary Band is an outstanding figure! We've clashed with those Blue Owls on the battlefield numerous times and still live and breathe as fit as you see!"
Hooh, I was slightly surprised because a completely unexpected name popped out. Pimel interpreted my reaction as admiration and laughed heartily, wittily rambling on about his comrades' heroic tales. While marveling at his smooth, flowing eloquence, I subtly revised my assessment of the Blue Owl Mercenary Band.
So they were a remarkably capable mercenary band, surpassing the level of being merely decent. To think another mercenary band would boast about having fought them.
Of course, that wasn't a reason for me to suddenly feel interested, so I refused. Pimel, seeming to have already sensed my feelings, finished his advertising-like stories and told me to be sure to visit if I ever changed my mind, giving me the name of the inn they planned to stay at before returning to his original group.
Thanks to spending all that time listening to his long-winded chatter, the line had now shrunk until it was right in front of my nose. Could he have calculated the timing and spoken accordingly? He was truly a remarkable person.
Well, even if his tales about the Broken Rose Mercenary Band's leader being a female warrior with divine beauty were useless, it had been good for me, as I roughly learned how the surrounding situation had flowed in my absence. Once the people ahead had cleared and my turn arrived, a guard, weary from inspecting the mercenary band's baggage far ahead, spoke with difficulty, carefully managing his expression.
"Identification."
Unlike the other guards, the crest on his helmet indicated he was the guard captain. I handed him my prepared adventurer's tag as if pulling out a passport, but the guard who stood blankly staring at the tag I offered sent a dubious look and continued speaking.
"You know an adventurer's tag alone isn't enough."
"What?"
What the hell was this about? At the unexpected response, the guard captain looked at my dumbfounded expression, scratched inside his helmet, then answered with a deep sigh.
"Damn it, were you out for a long time because of a request? How long has it been since you last returned?"
As he spoke, his actions—entering the guard post and opening a thick paper ledger—were perfectly natural, but I only remained bewildered.
"About three weeks? Maybe four? I think it's been about..."
"Hell, that's nearly a month? Then it wouldn't even be on file."
Shaking his head, he asked another guard for a different book, briefly took off his helmet, scratched his head irritably, and continued his explanation.
"Some things happened in the city during that time, and entry inspections have become stricter. Normally, you should have been issued a separate certificate when you went out. I'm sorry, but there are no exceptions. You have to be verified by the person who commissioned your last request, or bring someone who can prove your identity. Would that be possible?"
Contrary to his actions, his voice was calm, showing he was a man truly devoted to his duties. Unfortunately, I couldn't present any of the things he mentioned, so I just had to shake my head stupidly.
"Um, the circumstances of how I came to be here are a bit... special..."
"Special? How so?"
"The last request I took was issued by the Capital Adventurer's Guild."
Upon hearing my words, the expressions of both the guard captain and the guard who had just set down the book began to twist with doubt. With good reason. The fact that someone who took a request from the capital in this period was at the far eastern edge of Itisel was nonsense in itself. Worse, other guards didn't stop at doubt and subtly readjusted their grip on their spears, forcing me to continue my explanation calmly to reduce any misunderstanding.
"I am a victim caught up in the Orc incident that occurred near the capital. I was swept up by the gate the orcs used to cross over at the time, flung toward the western region, and am on my way back."
At my answer, the brow of the guard captain I was talking to crumpled deeply, and the other guards openly took stances and raised their spears. Unlike the guard captain, whose expression clearly showed he was pondering something, the other guards' faces already held hostility beyond mere distrust.
"This son of a... You expect me to believe that now? That you crossed all the way from the western region to the east in less than a single month?"
"I received help from the elves to—"
"Elves?"
Fuck.
I was only stating facts, but even I would have found it absurd. Thanks to that, the guards outright ignored my words and began to surround me. Still, I didn't want to throw a fit over their reaction. It was perfectly reasonable, so persuading them was my job now.
Just as I was about to open my mouth again for that purpose, the guard in front of me raised a hand and restrained the others.
"...Swept up by a gate, you said?"
"Yes."
"Name?"
"Eldmia Ega."
"...Adventurer's tag."
When I handed over the adventurer's tag I had failed to give him earlier, the guard captain read my personal details written on the back, gave a short nod, returned the tag, and put his helmet on.
"I apologize for the discourtesy."
Then, signaling the bewildered other guards to lower their spears, he presented a crisp, formal salute with a respectful yet solemn attitude.
"Nothing is amiss. You may pass."
A moment of silence flowed.
Behind me, silence; among the guards, shock. Amidst curious gazes pouring in from the bystanders beyond, the guards who belatedly came to their senses urgently saluted, and I was flustered by the sudden change in attitude.
Regardless, the guard captain explained to me in a very calm but firm tone.
"It is an honor to meet the hero who led the defense of the capital. His Excellency, Duke Zwinera, who took overall command of this Orc Gate incident, has issued orders. As we are to report through the highest commander immediately upon confirming your return, Lord Ega, we humbly request that you accompany our guard force to visit the lord's castle."
I had expected some measure of treatment, but it seemed Lord Lesrom had prepared in an extremely meticulous manner. Most of all, responding as quietly as possible without making a grand fuss was very much to my liking.
"...Understood."
"Thank you. Second Guard Unit, immediately rotate with the Third Guard Unit and transition to escort duty. Move quietly."
"Ah, understood."
Even if they moved quietly, the guards suddenly moving in perfect unison was a sight eye-catching enough to draw plenty of attention. I briefly considered whether to take out my helmet and put it on due to the gazes pouring in from front and back, but decided to just stay still, as it would only make me stand out more and I couldn't risk scattering information about my equipment for such a reason.
Of course, that alone couldn't free me from the shower of stares, so I was about to dismount from my horse and walk instead, but when the guard captain gave a separate signal, a carriage appeared from the entrance of an alley as if it had been prepared and waiting.
...He couldn't possibly have... prepared something like this in every city for me, not knowing where or when I would appear... right...?
Just in case, I sent a questioning look asking what the hell this was, and the guard captain answered with an impossibly bright smile.
"This is a carriage pre-arranged by His Excellency the Duke for this day. Please, ride."
...Looks like it. I guess being a duke means he's filthy rich.
In the end, I boarded a carriage in a port city whose name I still didn't properly know, and, receiving a disciplined escort from the guards, headed for the lord's castle.