The Price of Protection
“Everyone’s here, I see.”
“You’ve arrived, Captain.”
“No need for introductions. You’re all busy people, and you’ll need to return to your villages soon, so I’ll get straight to the point.”
The table was crowded with the chiefs of every nearby village.
“What is it you want?”
“Buy the spoils we recovered.”
“What kind of spoils? Food? You don’t need to sell that. If it’s hides, I might be interested…”
“What I’m offering are weapons.”
“Weapons? Why weapons?”
“Because you’ll need them.”
“Didn’t the Stern Bandits disappear?”
“The Stern Bandits are gone. But there’s no guarantee another band won’t appear in their place.”
Muslan’s words left the chiefs tight-lipped.
“Not today, perhaps, but in five years, ten years—maybe even longer—the bandits will return. This region is far too tempting for them. The very edge of the empire. Even if you petition the capital, they won’t send troops. And as you’ve seen, hiring mercenaries takes far too long. When the time comes, they may not come at all.”
“So… you want us to buy weapons?”
“That’s right.”
“Even if we do…”
“Of course, I’m not just selling weapons. Winter is coming. This is the season when mercenary bands like ours rarely operate. My band has decided to spend the winter right here.”
“In the Stern Bandits’ old base?”
The white-bearded chief asked.
“Exactly. We’ll be here all winter, so there’s plenty of time. Buy the weapons. In exchange, my band will teach your people how to use them. And just so you know, Mayhem here can vouch for our skill.”
Two pairs of eyes turned toward Mayhem. Compared to the other chiefs, he was young—almost boyishly so.
“I can say this with certainty: these men are the best. But…”
“But?”
“Even if we learn, how are we supposed to…”
“It’s possible. Bandits only grow in number over time. I’ll make sure your villagers can handle a freshly formed band without trouble.”
“You really think that’s enough? Our able-bodied men aren’t that many.”
The bearded chief spoke again. The silent chief simply nodded.
“The women will have to fight too.”
“How are women supposed to fight?”
“There are weapons women can use. Bows, for example.”
“Bows are hard to come by, and mastering them takes years.”
“The bandits won’t return overnight. If you spend the winter learning the basics, the rest can be practiced in spare moments. Little by little. Though I must say, your reaction surprises me.”
“What do you mean?”
Mayhem asked.
“I didn’t expect such resistance. I thought you’d agree immediately.”
“?”
“There’s a saying in my homeland: foolish people repeat the same mistakes. Knowing the bandits will return and doing nothing—that’s repeating the mistake. So let me ask again. Will you choose foolishness once more? Will you let them take everything from you when they come?”
Human greed knows no end, and people repeat the same mistakes. It was a modern proverb twisted into new words. Muslan had often quoted such lines even in the martial world—sometimes directly, sometimes reshaped to fit the moment. The effect was always powerful. Borrowing the wisdom of great minds carried weight no matter the world.
In the end, the village chiefs gave in to Muslan’s persuasion and purchased the bandits’ weapons. In return for winter training, they agreed to supply food. The stores recovered from the bandit base were already enough to last until spring.
Yet Muslan wanted one thing above all else: meat. Protein in any form—meat, fish, eggs. He intended to raise the mercenary band’s level during the winter, and nothing accelerated growth faster than building physical strength. For that, nothing beat proper nutrition paired with rigorous training.
The Muslan Mercenary Band still had plenty of room to improve in that regard. Until now, they had never enjoyed abundant food. Muslan had high hopes especially for Isaac, Oben, Chira, and Wiris. Even without proper meals, they had already shown remarkable talent. Since joining him they had eaten better, but not yet to the standard he demanded. He wanted every member to receive meals worthy of a top athlete from the modern world. And that day was coming soon.
“Also, each village must send one person.”
“?”
“?”
“?”
The chiefs looked startled.
“What do you mean?”
“To manage lodging and prepare meals.”
“Why?”
“Winter lasts at most three months. In that time we’ll train your men with everything we have. Time is short, so we need every advantage.”
“You want to save time on other chores too?”
“Exactly.”
Thus Muslan secured additional hands to handle daily tasks.
“You’re all trash.”
Muslan addressed the surviving bandits.
“Even if you didn’t take part in the raids, you stood by and stayed silent. That makes you no different from those who looted, murdered, and terrorized. My band is offering you a chance. It won’t be free. I know some of you are thinking your only change is swapping one bandit group for another. That’s not what this is. From now on, you will become mercenaries. You must become mercenaries. Until when? Until winter ends. If you can’t pull your own weight by then…”
Muslan paused for effect.
“I will personally cut your throats.”
His expression was resolute.
“You planned this from the start, didn’t you?”
“Planned what?”
“Coming here with this exact idea in mind.”
Isaac asked.
“Those guys?”
“Yeah.”
“I considered it. But things didn’t go exactly as planned.”
“Didn’t they? You’ve got five new men now. Raw, sure, but you’re the captain. You must have a plan.”
“I was hoping for at least twenty.”
“What?”
“If wiping out the Stern Bandits had been my only goal, I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble. Removing a band like that isn’t hard. Plenty of ways—luring them into traps, night raids, whatever works.”
“That’s true.”
Oben answered this time, brushing dust from his eyepatch before putting it back on.
“So you scouted their route, put Wiris in the trees, and waited?”
“Yes. That’s how we captured twenty healthy bandits and dealt with Stern. The part I miscalculated was human nature.”
“Human nature?”
“The Stern Bandits were even worse than I expected. Most people struggle to kill others. We’re used to it, but ordinary folk aren’t. Yet they still forced those villagers to burn people alive.”
“They got what they deserved. So you’re saying it’s a shame you only kept five?”
“It is. But it’s fine. We got quality instead of quantity.”
“Quality? They don’t know anything.”
“Ignorant men are easier to train than half-skilled ones. They have fewer bad habits.”
“So we start training right away?”
“Not yet.”
“Then what?”
“We build a training ground first.”
“Huh?”
“You want to train outside once the snow falls?”
“A training ground?”
“Look around. This place is huge, isn’t it?”
The bandit base was large—home to over forty men, after all. Several crude wooden buildings stood scattered about.
“We’ll tear those down and use the wood. If we need more, we can cut trees nearby.”
With his inner energy, Muslan could fell timber with ease. They also had strong men on hand. A simple training facility didn’t require anything complicated.
“See the red-haired one over there?”
Muslan pointed to one of the bandits. He was the shortest, yet his expression was firm.
“Yeah.”
“His name’s Sly. He led this group. Comes from a long line of carpenters.”
“Ah…”
Everyone nodded.
“Captain, I’ve got a question.”
Oben spoke up.
“If any bandits had survived besides these, would you really have taken them in?”
“Why? Shouldn’t I?”
“They were bandits… We can’t trust them not to betray us.”
“Even within a mercenary band, roles differ. Some jobs are dirtier than others.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing good.”
Oben asked no more. He understood exactly what Muslan implied.
Construction of the training ground began the next day. By afternoon, unexpected visitors arrived—the Lube tribe.
This time an old woman with long white hair led them.
“We heard you avenged us.”
“It was necessary.”
The old woman said nothing more. She turned and gestured. A Lube tribeswoman approached, leading a Lube by a rope.
“A female Lube.”
“……”
They left the creature and departed without another word, as if Muslan’s reply was unnecessary.
Isaac hurried over the moment he saw it.
“Whoa… is that our Lube? A female?”
“Is it rare?”
“Extremely. Especially a female.”
“Wouldn’t a male be better?”
“What are you talking about? A female Lube lays eggs every few days at least! Captain!”
“Eggs?”
“Yeah. They’re delicious—rich and savory.”
“Like chicken eggs?”
“Similar, but much bigger. About the size of a person’s head. That’s why females are so valuable.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. From what I’ve heard, you can only taste Lube egg dishes in the finest restaurants in Airs.”
“If they’re that good, why doesn’t the empire raise them?”
“Because Lubes are hard to tame. They live incredibly long—longer than humans.”
“But they lay eggs every few days.”
“Most of them are dead eggs. Almost none ever hatch.”
That explained why the empire never bothered with large-scale breeding.
“Anyway, we received a fine gift.”
“We did. One we never expected.”