Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Departure Ceremony (1)
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“The Giftrangs won’t just stand by.”
“We should have just taken a small loss and kept things reasonable...”
At first, the mercenaries had been thrilled with the Guild’s terms, but as time passed, some naturally began to feel anxious.
“Everyone’s worried about how the Giftrang family will retaliate, now that they hold a grudge.”
As always, Bok stepped forward to convey the mercenaries’ concerns.
“They must be sharpening their knives after being humiliated so publicly.”
I responded to this with indifference.
It was only a matter of time, sooner or later. As long as we operated under the name of the Guho-gisadan, a confrontation with the Giftrangs was inevitable.
“Surely an Esquire like you would have had another way.”
“Don’t you trust me a little too much?”
How much had he seen of me to rate my abilities so highly?
“Who else would we trust but the Esquire who played that Anton like a fiddle and turned the Giftrang's Daegongja into a sideshow?”
I chuckled at Bok's earnest expression.
“Well. It's not that there wasn't a way.”
For the Guho-gisadan to go under the Giftrangs.
“Normally, that would be the right move.”
Though we called ourselves the Guho-gisadan, we were barely a proper organization.
We lacked the manpower to launch a subjugation on our own, so we had no choice but to coordinate with the Giftrang forces, whether we liked it or not.
“So shouldn't we have maintained an amicable relationship with the Giftrangs all the more?”
Bok’s question was reasonable.
If this were a typical subjugation, that is.
For the past few days, I had been engrossed in thoughts about the bandit subjugation from my past life.
It was an event from my ignorant youth, and since I had left the west right after, I didn’t know much.
All I could remember was that the subjugation, expected to end quickly, had dragged on, and that a Star Festival had occurred in the midst of it.
For a subjugation that lasted roughly two years, my memory of it was pitifully scarce.
But knowing the outcome, it wasn't too difficult to deduce the process in reverse.
“The Giftrang family is going to fail.”
If the Giftrang family had properly crushed the bandits' momentum from the start, there’s no way the bandits would have spread throughout the entire western region, growing their forces as they did.
Bok frowned.
He clearly didn't believe my claim that the Giftrang forces would be defeated by a mere band of bandits.
That was only natural.
From what I’d heard, the Giftrangs’ Daegongja was leading the subjugation force.
Klail Giftrang, was it?
From the brief glimpse I got of him, he was by no means inferior to Gunther.
Estimated rank, at least 4-star.
Considering a standard formation, if you included one or two knights serving as aides, their force was powerful, with at least two or three knight-level combatants.
It made no sense for such a subjugation force to be defeated by ordinary bandits.
But that nonsensical event had actually happened.
Which meant there was someone among the bandits capable of defeating the Giftrang knights.
Only a knight could stand against a knight.
But no matter how bored a knight got, it was unlikely they’d resort to banditry.
That left only one possibility.
“It seems there's a mage among the bandits.”
The counterweight on the scales opposite the knights, their adversaries and arch-nemeses.
Mages, who gained immense power by offering something equivalent to a knight’s Oath, would not be an easy opponent, even for the Giftrangs.
“A mage!”
Bok shot up from his seat and shouted.
“They were driven beyond the Empire's borders decades ago! That’s impossible!”
His face was pale, as if he had seen a ghost.
Considering the public perception of mages, it wasn’t a particularly strange reaction.
Human sacrifice, cannibalism, slaughter.
The Empire had a history of being ravaged by mages just a few decades ago.
Countless families and knightly orders had been annihilated in the process of driving those mages out of the Empire.
Even the Eight Great Families had yet to fully recover from the damage they sustained back then, so what could be said for the others?
The rise of mages was no small matter for the people of the Empire.
“If what you say is true, Esquire, the Empire will make its move.”
It was an issue so grave that even the slow-moving Imperial Army would come running.
But in my past life, the Empire never dispatched troops to the west.
“The Empire won’t move.”
It would be the same in this life.
“Because the Empire isn’t hostile to all mages.”
Though they were all lumped together under the term 'mage,' not all mages were the same.
The Black Tower mages, who served the darkness of the outer cosmos.
The Red Tower mages, who gained power by sacrificing a part of their body or something of equivalent value.
The Blue Tower mages, who passed the cost of their pacts onto others instead of themselves.
Of these, it was the Black Tower’s black mages who had laid waste to the Empire decades ago.
The Empire only moved when traces of the Black Tower were discovered.
Keeping the other mages in check was the responsibility of the Empire’s other noble houses and knightly orders.
It seemed Bok had belatedly recalled this fact.
He sat back down, his face somewhat calmer.
“It's not the Red Tower. Red mages have their own sense of pride, too much to resort to banditry against common folk.”
Red mages were even more arrogant than knights, who valued honor as much as their lives.
For a red mage to engage in banditry was as nonsensical as a knight doing the same.
“If it's not the Black Tower and not the Red Tower, then all that's left is the Blue Tower.”
The blue mages, who lived solely for their own desires without any chivalry or pride, wouldn’t find it strange to commit banditry, or even worse.
“In the end, the fact that a mage is involved remains unchanged.”
Though his tone was calmer than before, Bok's voice was still filled with unease.
While not comparable to the Black and Red Towers, a Blue Tower mage was still an object of fear for an ordinary mercenary.
“If a mage is involved as you say, Esquire, there won’t be much we can do.”
Perhaps Bok was right.
Blue mages, who acted without chivalry, pride, or anything else, were unpredictable.
Getting involved with them would do no good.
“Let's just sell the information to the Giftrangs for a high price and get out of this.”
Bok was clearly uncomfortable with the presence of blue mages.
But I had no intention of following Bok's advice to withdraw from the subjugation force, nor did I plan to just give them the information and step back.
“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.”
At my words that the plan remained unchanged, Bok cursed repeatedly.
“What a mess. A real mess. Tried to make a bit of money and ended up in this mess.”
Yet, even as he swore, he didn't seem to have any intention of quitting the subjugation.
“But you believe me?”
Watching him, I asked the question that suddenly came to mind.
“You’re the Esquire who holed up in an inn and moved the citizens of Komrat, the Guild, and the Giftrangs. Is it really a big deal that you know a few things others don't?”
All the time I spent worrying about how to convince him was wasted; Bok believed me far too easily.
Seriously. This old guy. How does he even work as a mercenary?
His complete trust in the words of an unproven, not-fully-grown squire seemed utterly naive.
“I believe you because you're you, Esquire. I’m not usually like this.”
Bok said, as if he had read my mind.
“There's something different about you, Esquire. I don't know what it is, but you're different.”
Bok’s gaze flickered upstairs for a moment.
“And Knight Gunther doesn't seem like an ordinary person either.”
I let out a dry laugh.
A failure who couldn’t become a knight despite a lifetime of effort and a beggar knight who lived by begging for alms seemed special to him.
First Sasha, and now Bok.
“You’ve all got terrible eyes.”
Bok smiled back at my words.
“I guess time will tell who has terrible eyes.”
His expression had become strangely relaxed, which was so annoying that I was glaring at him when Gunther happened to come down.
“Are all the preparations complete?”
At this point, the only preparation left was the departure ceremony.
Since we had decided to fly the Guild’s banner, the Guild could no longer just hand us a mission and send us off as usual.
Even if it wasn't a grand departure ceremony, they needed to at least declare our departure in an abbreviated ceremony.
“Shouldn't it be just about done?”
And, of course, that preparation was the Guild’s responsibility.
“Esquire!”
Just then, the man himself appeared.
Anton, who had seemingly been swamped with preparations for the ceremony, rushed in looking quite unwell.
“It’s a disaster!”
It seemed his poor condition wasn't just due to fatigue.
“It’s on the same day!”
As I stared blankly at his out-of-context words, Anton shouted in frustration.
“The departure ceremony!”
“What do you mean, the same day...”
“The date of our departure ceremony overlaps with the Giftrang family's!”
Since it involved gathering troops within the city, whether a few or many, it was natural to obtain permission from the city’s highest official, the lord.
But this time, the lord had not only given his permission but had personally set the date.
“The Giftrangs must have pulled some strings! Otherwise, the lord would have no reason to interfere like that!”
The mercenaries, seeing Anton’s frantic shouting, tilted their heads.
They seemed to be wondering what the problem was with the ceremonies being on the same day.
“We're definitely going to be compared!”
Anton shrieked.
On one side, the elite forces of the Giftrang family, who, despite being a branch family, were backed by a main house renowned throughout the continent.
On the other side, the Guho-gisadan, a hastily assembled group of motley mercenaries and a free knight.
It was obvious how the Guho-gisadan would look in the eyes of those who had held such high expectations.
“Ah. The Guild’s prestige...”
Anton, muttering like a man possessed, grabbed me and poured out his words.
“This is no time for this. Where is Knight Gunther? We must see the lord with the Knight and get a different date.”
Anton kept looking for Gunther, insisting that they had to avoid the Guild’s banner becoming a laughingstock at all costs.
But I had no intention of calling Gunther as Anton wished.
There was no need for it in the first place.
“It’s perfect.”
As if on cue, Anton and the mercenaries all looked at me.
I declared firmly before them.
That I would absolutely not change the date of the ceremony.
“The stage is finally set.”
After all, I hadn't provoked the Giftrang family for no reason.
Still, I feel a bit sorry for the Daegongja.
Looks like I'll be unintentionally making him play the supporting role twice.
* * *
The departure ceremony date set by the Lord of Komrat was now tomorrow.
Before the ceremony, I visited the blacksmith.
It was to pick up the items I had ordered and to place an additional request.
“You're here.”
The old blacksmith who greeted me looked weary, as if he hadn't slept properly.
“Here, Bloody Tears, Plague's Blessing, Half a Life, and the rest.”
They were in perfect condition, ready to be taken to the battlefield immediately, which I found very satisfying.
“Excellent.”
I nodded once, then placed the items I received to one side. Then I quietly looked at the old man.
“I was just about to bring it out.”
The old man took out a chest and opened it in front of me.
Inside the chest was the Gisa Salhaeja.
But it didn't look like the prototype I had first seen.
A pulley to enhance its power.
A device called a goat's foot lever that used the principle of leverage to help with loading.
Two separate nuts to hold the string, one for sniping and one for rapid fire.
A quiver for short bolts that attached to the crossbow, enabling rapid fire.
“Once you get the hang of it, you might be able to load up to ten bolts, but for now, five is the limit.”
He sounded like he was making an excuse, as this was his first time making it.
“This alone is magnificent.”
I sincerely expressed my gratitude for the old man's efforts.
I thought I'd be lucky if he managed to add just the goat's foot lever and pulley given the tight schedule. But to my surprise, the old man had completed all the mechanisms from the schematics I gave him.
“You said all I needed to do was strengthen the tension and make it easier to load, but after seeing the schematics, the blacksmith in me got fired up.”
The old man, who joked that he hadn't slept for five days because of it, had a face full of a craftsman’s pride.
“The bow and stock are fundamentally so sturdy and resilient that it should be able to pierce through most things, even with rapid fire.”
I nodded at the old man's words.
How could I not know?
It was the weapon I had favored so much in my past life.
*Thud.*
As I was lost in nostalgia, fiddling with the Gisa Salhaeja, the old man brought out another chest.
“This is the gift I promised.”