16. Karlson von Eldale of the Red Evil Mercenaries
Karlson von Eldale, vice-captain of the Red Evil Mercenaries led by Bella. Now serving as acting captain in place of Bella, who had withdrawn from the Mercenary Guild, he was a knight who had followed her since the days when she was the young princess of the Mountain Kingdom of Pernalid. Once hailed as the kingdom's mightiest force—the shield and spear of Pernalid. He had been captain of the Crimson Ox Knights, the kingdom's premier royal guard.
Loyal spear of the royal house. Though outmatched in raw power by Bella, the overwhelming force derisively called the "fallen princess," and even more so by her uncle who had usurped the throne she should have inherited... his innate command abilities and the unwavering trust of his subordinates made him so capable that no one dared question his leadership of the knights.
And the object of Karlson's unwavering loyalty, unto death, was the fallen princess Bellatrix von Pernalid. Even when she was driven from her throne and forced to wander foreign lands, he abandoned the glorious post of knight captain without a second thought, following her to form and lead a mercenary band. Karlson was a devoted retainer who revered Bella above all.
What drove such fanatic devotion? That was...
The underground dungeon. In that dim, filthy, damp corner, lit only by a few flickering torches on the walls, a man lay bound and shackled.
His name was Karlson von Eldale. Current captain of the Red Evil Mercenaries and loyal subordinate to their former captain, the fallen princess Bellatrix.
His body was a mangled ruin, covered in whip lashes, with blood seeping from the wounds to show how dire his state was. Burn marks from hot irons dotted his flesh here and there. His fingernails and toenails had long been torn out, and he'd bitten his lower lip so hard it was nearly gone.
"Hngh... hnggh..."
Pathetic groans leaked from him, like he was half-dead already.
A muscular brute named Henderson glared down at Karlson. Shirtless, his sweat-slicked skin gleaming, he drove a full-force kick into Karlson's gut.
Thwack! The sound was like a drumskin bursting.
The merciless blow, sparing no regard for the victim's condition, made Karlson spew crimson blood and chunks of viscera from his mouth.
"Gack...! Cough, cough...!"
"Fuckin' hell, you tough bastard. How the shit is this supposed to be torture? Why am I the one suffering here?"
Henderson spat curses laced with irritation. Grabbing Karlson's limp hair, he yanked his head up.
"Why don't you just spill it already? Your client's that bitch—where the fuck is she, huh?"
"Heh... heh heh... It'd be quicker to just chop my head off."
"Ha, you fuckin' psycho. Lost your mind? Grinning like an idiot in this state."
"Of course I laugh. It's pathetic, you lot wasting time here, blind to the fate awaiting you. What else is funny if not that? Heh heh heh..."
"Bullshit... Got some ace up your sleeve, do ya?"
"You wouldn't understand. You have no idea who you've fucked with. Who we serve. When that day comes, don't say you weren't warned. Your... nghaaah?!!!"
Karlson choked back the agony, forcing out the words. Henderson just laughed incredulously, grabbed a glowing branding iron from the coals nearby, and pressed it straight into the bloody stump where Karlson's nipple had been sliced off.
"Keep talking shit, you worthless fuck. All bluster."
Even under Henderson's torture, Karlson clenched his teeth, enduring the pain. Tears of blood streamed from his eyes as he remembered.
The reason he could remain unbroken amid such brutality. The reason he'd abandoned even the glorious position of kingdom's top knight captain.
My liege...
Bellatrix von Pernalid. She would surely come to save him. And on that day...
It will be your funeral.
That much was certain.
"Fuckin' hell, what the shit is this?"
Bella's voice was ice-cold, her face rigid with fury.
What the hell was in Karlson's letter to piss her off this bad? I'd never seen her this enraged—not even when Cheong-ah polished off that precious bottle of booze she'd stashed away.
Her foul mouth and furrowed brow had me glancing warily at her expression. Sure, she'd never take it out on me no matter how mad she got... but still, better play it safe.
"Bella, what's up? Something serious?"
I asked cautiously. She bit her lip hard, glaring at me. Her face burned red, eyes wild with rage, unlike her frosty tone. Thick killing intent rolled off her in waves, red mana seeping naturally from her churning emotions.
"Yeah, fuckin' serious as shit."
Whether she was subconsciously holding back for me, or Dina was shielding me... I wasn't too affected by her aura and mana. But the guild folks nearby started foaming at the mouth and collapsing one by one under her vicious pressure. The butler Heron, who'd delivered the letter, was among them.
...Gotta calm her down first.
"What happened? Bella, chill—deep breaths. Nice and slow, okay? People around us are dropping because of you."
"Indeed, beast. Rein in that killing intent. Know you not that it's reaching even the young master? Had I not blocked it, he would have been in peril."
"...Sorry."
She apologized to me, took several deep breaths, and slowly settled her mind.
"I'm fine. Dina blocked it good."
"'Tis thanks to this body."
"...Yeah, thanks, squirt... Dina."
"Hee hee. At last thou callest this body by name. A special honor. Thou mayest stroke this body's head."
"Nah, pass."
"Insolent beast-girl."
"Anyway... here, take this first."
She handed me the letter and explained.
"You'll get it when you read it... Back during that Aria ambush mess, I quit the Mercenary Guild, so my crew couldn't operate in Tronen anymore, right?"
I skimmed the letter as she spoke. It was addressed from Karlson, but clearly written by one of his men borrowing his name. And the moment I read the first line, I knew why Bella was livid.
...Karlson had been captured by the enemy.
"They picked Durumil Kingdom as their new base—south of Tronen, roughly. Ring a bell?"
"...Kinda."
Durumil Kingdom. South of Tronen, as she said—a fertile land rich in water, focused on crops and harvests. I'd never been, so that was all I knew.
She nodded. "Not bad. To add a bit: it's one of the continent's last holdouts for slavery, alongside the beastman kingdom far off."
"...Slavery?"
"Yeah, slaves. You know what those are?"
"Course. You're my sex slave, Bella."
"What the fuck, you perv..."
Whack. She punched my shoulder lightly—or so it seemed. Even calmed, some anger lingered; it stung pretty good. Not on purpose, probably.
"...Ow, shit. Sorry, too hard?"
"Nah, it's fine. Just a cotton fist."
Obviously, my delicate shoulder now sported a bruise shaped like her fist. She smirked at my bravado.
"Such a poser."
"Not posing."
"Fine, I'll buy it. Anyway..."
She continued on Durumil. Unlike the Mountain Kingdom bordering the Empire or Tronen, it was isolated, enjoying relative peace without the constant snarls between those three powers. No crises meant the royals and nobles gorged themselves selfishly. Commoners got squeezed dry. To avoid starvation, they borrowed against land, defaulted, lost it all—falling to near-serfdom. Eventually, slavery formalized, claiming over half the population.
It rang bells of some familiar history, but whatever.
In such a place, nobles fought petty territory wars and duels to fatten their purses—plenty of mercenary work. So the Red Evil Mercenaries relocated there.
"Then... they got tangled in some noble's business. Complicated shit."
"Complicated how?"
"It's in the letter... but I'll explain."
She went on: They'd backed the rightful heir of Soboro County against her scheming uncle trying to seize the land and title.
"And?"
"Problem was, the heir's just a kid. Barely any forces, most retainers backing the uncle. No chance of winning."
"...Then why help her?"
Bella fell silent, then answered. "Obvious... 'cause of me. Same damn situation."
"...Ah."
"Idiots..."
Yeah, it mirrored her own fall from grace.
"Anyway, outnumbered as expected. Karlson held the rear with a few men to cover the heir's escape. Got caught. That's the letter."
"...Hmm."
I hummed thoughtfully. She eyed me apologetically.
"So... Ian."
"Yeah?"
"I gotta go."
"Where?"
"What, where? You heard. Durumil. Can't leave my guy hanging—he followed me from the Mountain Kingdom, trusting me."
"That's why I'm saying—why go alone?"
"...What?"
Her eyes flashed again. Not getting it, huh. I stood, offering my hand.
"We'll go together. Rescue him."
"The young master's words ring true. This body shall aid thee."
"Ian... Dina... Thanks."
We grabbed the dazed Bella—mumbling our names—and started prepping to head for Durumil Kingdom.
Cheong-ah's take? She wouldn't object.