Central Army's 3rd Legion (1)
Calix's recovery was astonishingly swift. On the day he rose from his sickbed, Krout spoke in a resolute tone.
"Please promise me you won't stake your precious life on such gambling odds again, Young Master. You are no longer on your own. The fate of five hundred thousand households in the county rests on your shoulders. I beg you to value yourself more dearly."
Krout had lost a great deal of weight in just a few days. His cheeks were hollowed, his beard patchy and unkempt—he looked utterly worn down.
Edirn shook his head as if exasperated by Krout's stubbornness.
"He stood guard at the entrance the whole time you were undergoing the ritual. Ever since returning from the Impalen Mountains, without so much as a wink of sleep. Stubborn bastard."
Calix nodded obediently. He had no intention of using the same method again anyway. Such shortcuts could only take him so far—up to level 40 at best.
The level 40 threshold divided those who could wield mana from those who couldn't, so mere physical reinforcement through rituals had its limits.
It was time to move to the next stage.
Now that I've got a mage on my side, my options have widened considerably... but where was a decent breathing method again?
As Calix pondered deeply, Yurin and Trias came to visit him.
"Oppa! You didn't let that old geezer Edirn swindle away the money you promised to invest in me, did you?"
"Old geezer?! Sure, Yurin, he's about your uncle's age, but still..."
Calix glanced at Edirn.
Fifty-nine... calling him uncle feels a bit much. Can't even a class 6 magus escape wrinkles and baldness? No dreams, no hopes. Damn.
Calix gazed at Edirn with pitying eyes.
Trias approached him then and said,
"I'm glad to see you're healthy again, Young Master."
"You've come."
"Yes, Young Master. Thanks to you, we've secured Poznyu."
"Heh! What do you mean, thanks to me? It was their own blunder that handed it to us. And your own skill besides."
"No, sir. The other two factions were hiding far more power than I anticipated. If we'd rushed into war, we would've taken a bad hit."
"Is it fully sorted now?"
"Yes. But..."
"What is it?"
"The Central Army stationed nearby seems restless."
"Hmm..."
"Winter's approaching, so no scheduled training, yet they're bustling about. Stockpiling supplies, filling vacancies in their rosters at a rapid clip."
"Not just some unscheduled drill?"
Trias's lips twitched with a grim expression as Calix brushed it off lightly.
"Actually..."
"Spit it out."
He hesitated a moment, but opened his mouth reluctantly at Calix's urging.
"Right after we took over the other two factions' bases, the leaders of the smaller mercenary bands gathered secretly for a meeting."
"No surprise there—they've been devoured by one absolute power."
"If that were the case, they'd have come crawling to me. Instead, a few days ago, they hurled accusations at us with outright hostility. Just a gut feeling, but... it seems like they've got something else to lean on."
"You mean the Northeast Garrison Army's 3rd Legion?"
"Exactly."
"Ugh."
Calix crossed his arms and thought it over.
Trias's report wasn't baseless.
His face naturally soured.
Servio Viscount again...? Faster crackdown than expected. Well, letting us swallow Poznyu whole would chafe, wouldn't it?
A few days later, at the Red Wolf Mercenary Corps headquarters.
Calix's group and the corps' executives gathered in the conference hall to devise countermeasures against the Central Army's movements.
Trias spoke first.
"Do you really think the Central Army is coming to seize this place?"
"Before that, let's figure out why they're suddenly mobilizing. Until now, Poznyu's three major factions rejected royal interference for their own reasons."
"I know well. The Black Wing Mercenaries, made up of ex-convicts, despised nobles. The Iron Shield Mercenaries harbored similar grudges from being abandoned."
Calix nodded.
"Right. You lot just wanted to protect your free mercenary life, so your situation wasn't much different. If this had happened a few weeks ago, they'd have joined hands amiably against the Central Army."
"Most likely."
"And the freelance mercenaries would've jumped in gladly too. Falling out with the big three meant kissing their careers goodbye."
Trias nodded.
"But now? Over five hundred veteran mercenaries haven't returned from the dungeon—core forces from all three factions."
"To the Central Army, it looks like the enemy's strength has been gutted."
"Exactly."
Krout, who had been listening quietly, tilted his head.
"But Poznyu still has nearly ten thousand mercenaries active. The Central Army numbers maybe twenty-five hundred at best. They might hold in open battle, but street fights or melees? No chance."
Calix wagged a finger side to side and clicked his tongue.
"Tsk tsk. The Central Army isn't aiming to raze Poznyu and wipe out every last mercenary. Who'd hold back the monsters then?"
Only then did realization dawn on everyone in the room.
"We're the target."
"Right."
"Why...!"
"The Central Army doesn't want any single faction dominating Poznyu completely."
"We're not raising arms against the crown!"
"I'd love to believe that... but it's unlikely. Rebellion isn't tolerated even in the slightest chance. Nobles rebelling is just factional strife, but you mercenaries? That'd be a 'revolution'."
"Revolution...!"
They stared blankly for a moment, struck by the unfamiliar word's weight.
Still too early for that.
Clap!
Calix clapped to draw their attention.
"Let's focus on the plan ahead. First option: The Red Wolf Mercenary Corps pulls out of Poznyu."
Trias shook his head without hesitation.
"We can't retreat so easily. As you said, Young Master, the moment we leave, this free city becomes just another noble-ruled fief. Isn't that right?"
"If you're asking my opinion... yeah. High chance of that."
"Then we won't back down. Not just me—every member of the Red Wolf Corps feels the same. If there's a first option, there's a second. Tell us that one."
Calix sensed Trias's ironclad resolve and burning aspiration. He loved Poznyu more than anyone.
Not bad at all.
Securing Poznyu before the great war was crucial. Over seventy percent of Lock Kingdom's mercenary corps were based here.
The issue was Calix's noble status—he couldn't directly lead mercenaries. He needed a proxy. Someone with a solid reputation and influence among them.
If we navigate this crisis well and give him a little push, it'll paint a nice picture...
He closed his eyes, thinking it through. Trias waited patiently without pressing.
Finally, having sorted his thoughts, Calix spoke.
"Rather than that, let's divide Poznyu's mercenaries into interest groups. We need to know what they want to counter effectively."
"Hm... The top tier was the three major factions. Only one left now, of course."
Calix nodded.
"Right. Next, the mid-to-small band alliance—the ones who defied you recently."
"Not unified enough to call an 'alliance,' but they're definitely opposed to us."
"Bottom rung: unaffiliated freelancers."
"By status, all commoners, but by power structure, that classification works."
Calix flashed a meaningful smile and posed the key question.
"Do you think these three groups' interests align perfectly?"
"Never crossed my mind. Probably not."
"If the Central Army commander isn't a total idiot, he'll ally with the mid-small alliance. Signs are already there."
"...You're right. Freelancers have no leaders, so they just shape opinion—no negotiating. But the alliance does."
"Especially if they picture the order after you're gone."
"After we're gone..."
Trias couldn't hide his conflicted emotions.
"If I were the Central Army commander, I'd say this: The mid-small alliance and freelancers aren't operation targets. We just need to arrest the rebels—the Red Wolf Mercenary Corps."
Grima Baron, commander of the Northeast Garrison Army's 3rd Legion, gathered the alliance's key figures and declared,
"We're just here to cut out the rotten part: the Red Wolf Mercenary Corps."
The 3rd Legion, stationed at Brest, stood one step back from the major monster frontlines. Their main duty was blocking stray monster packs from harming civilians via Poznyu.
But as a royal direct force, they had another vital role: monitoring and checking surrounding fiefs.
Poznyu, the free city without noble rule, was a special watchlist target.
"Think carefully. Will you side with them and become traitors, or turn a blind eye and pick up the scraps?"
His near-threatening tone didn't sour their faces as much as expected.
Hm, once Red Wolf's gone, some chaos, but we can grab 20%... no, 10% dominance easy.
The big three already monopolized commissions—we had to grovel for scraps. Now one monopolizes? Worse.
If this solidifies, we're trapped forever. For now, back the Central Army and deal with Red Wolf first.
The small band leaders tallied their mental abacuses. Deeming it profitable, they bowed without qualms.
"We too frowned on the big three's clash. Poznyu's duty is blocking monster waves. They forgot that, squabbling over power, wasting veteran talent who shouldn't have died."
Heh! What 'talent' are a bunch of mercenaries?
Grima masked his thoughts with a smile.
"The baron agrees. Leave the cleanup to us—focus on carving out the rot. Mercenary business is best handled by mercenaries, no?"
Leoben, representing the small band leaders, rose and bowed deeply.
"As expected, Baron, your insight is profound. Our thanks for your consideration."