Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Gearing Up
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“Much obliged.”
“No trouble at all! Rest well, sir knight!”
The young clerk from the Feilin Merchant Group bowed deeply and withdrew.
Eugene examined the chain mail and short sword the young man had brought.
He’d handed them over after they insisted on handling it themselves, and they certainly hadn’t been exaggerating.
The chain mail and short sword, badly damaged from battling all sorts of monsters in the dungeon, had returned looking almost brand new.
“No doubt about it—big cities have skilled artisans.”
And it was free, which made it even better. Bilmore was clearly desperate to impress him.
“You bet! The food’s great, the booze is top-notch. I could hole up here forever!”
Mirian, who hadn’t so much as flapped a wing for hours and had just been rolling around on the table, poked his head out from atop the massive wheel of cheese he’d been devouring.
Of course, “devouring” was relative—it was only gnawed down by the length of a knuckle, barely noticeable.
“Time to head out, so get ready. Stay here if you want to eat more.”
“Go on, go on. This one needs a little nap. Hey, waiter!”
Eugene shot a pitying glance at the spirit, who was stroking his bulging belly while sprawling out, then stepped outside.
* * *
“You’re here, Sir Eugene.”
“Hm? Oh.”
Eugene almost didn’t recognize him at first but nodded.
With a proper wash and his hair and beard neatly trimmed, Partek looked like a different person.
“More human now, right? I’d wander alone otherwise, but since I’m escorting you, Sir Eugene…”
“Fine enough. Let’s go.”
Eugene gave a half-hearted reply and started walking, still adjusting to the sight of such a burly man acting bashful.
“By the way, is young Master Pellid staying with the Feilin Merchant Group now?”
“Fortunately, Bilmore’s on board. Merchants often take on one or two apprentices—it’s common, so no issues from the group.”
“Good to hear. Plenty of merchants come from noble houses and know their letters and numbers. Young Master Pellid should do well.”
The Tiwin family needed a merchant group that could reliably handle the mana stones and monster byproducts from the dungeon without hiccups.
The Feilin Merchant Group, centered in Maren, was the best option in that regard, but entrusting everything to them still felt risky.
Eugene’s recommendation of Pellid had resolved Lord Kamara’s concerns.
As the lord’s brother and a knight’s squire, his status was enough to prevent any merchant caravan or group from treating him lightly.
Above all, Pellid knew his letters and numbers and had a sharp mind—he’d soon pull his weight once he learned the ropes from Bilmore.
And Bilmore, whose position in the group was shaky, would bend over backward to nurture ties with the Tiwin family.
He knew full well that properly training Pellid and keeping good relations was the key to continuing to handle the Tiwin dungeon business himself.
Finally, Eugene had saved significantly on fees by selling monster byproducts through the Tiwin family rather than separately.
In short, Eugene, Kamara, Pellid, and Bilmore all came out ahead.
‘Told him he’d make more profit using a Tiwin representative for byproducts… Who knew it’d play out this big.’
Partek shook his head, having only suggested it casually out of goodwill toward Eugene.
The knight who still sent chills down his spine recalling the dungeon was sharp-minded too.
‘My instincts are still spot on.’
“Right this way! I’ll take you to the finest armorer in Maren.”
Resolved to stick with Eugene come hell or high water, Partek strode through Maren’s streets with bold confidence.
* * *
Eugene couldn’t afford dwarf-made weapons or armor—they were prohibitively expensive, beyond imagination.
But he managed to snag gear with excellent value for the price.
Partek introduced him to several artisans specializing in sturdy, practical equipment, and Eugene bought what he needed at reasonable rates.
“The plate mail’s custom, so it’ll take a few days, but no special requests means it’ll be ready in two or three. Surprised you skipped the long sword, though.”
“Short swords feel more natural in my hands.”
It was a shame to sell the freshly repaired ones, but Eugene offloaded his old gear for a new short sword and rondel dagger.
Following Galpredic’s advice, he also picked up two hand battle axes and three throwing spears.
Even with the plate mail, he’d spent over eighty silver coins—but without Partek, it would’ve been at least twenty more, so it was a thrifty haul.
Plus, he still had plenty left from selling monster byproducts to the Feilin Merchant Group, so money wasn’t a big worry.
“Now, shall we check out the horses last?”
“Guess so.”
The thought of finally owning his own mount had Eugene a bit excited.
A knight wasn’t a knight without a horse, after all.
But then.
“Partek, bro!”
“Sir Eugene! Sir Eugene the knight!”
At the excited shouts, Eugene and Partek turned simultaneously.
Glad and Raban were sprinting toward them.
“What’re you two doing here? Said you were off to pay off your guild debt.”
“Done with that. But that’s not the issue now.”
“What’s going on?”
Glad caught his breath and explained.
“You heard about roamer packs showing up around here lately, right? They’ve appeared in the eastern outskirts.”
“What? City guards can handle that.”
“Over a hundred armed goblins, led by orcs.”
“What? Orcs? How many?”
“With that many goblins, at least two or three orcs, right?”
“Urgh!”
Partek’s eyes widened as he whipped toward Eugene.
“This is no small matter, Sir Eugene.”
“Because of the orcs?”
“Yes. Probably from the Brandish Mountains. Every few years, orcs come down rallying roamers—big numbers, and they hit and run fast.”
Partek hesitated briefly, then seemed to steel himself.
“Sir Eugene, the city’s likely hiring knights and mercenaries to deal with them. How about joining in?”
“Me? Any real reason I should?”
“Perfect chance to build fame. Plus, a commendation from Maren’s lord mayor carries more weight than one stamped by Lord Tiwin.”
“Yeah? Hmm…”
As Eugene pondered, Partek added carefully.
“And the city pays for recruits like this. Best part: loot from the enemy goes entirely to participants.”
“I’m in.”
Partek and the two mercenaries lit up, as if they’d expected it.
Mercenaries lived for commissions, but the real thrill was battle.
Killing foes and claiming spoils was their right and duty!
With a knight like Eugene along?
“We’ll follow you too, Sir Eugene!”
Feeling a rush like his first mercenary gig fifteen years ago, Partek headed to the mercenary guild with Eugene.
* * *
“Black Scorpion Mercenaries, Garfield and ten others! Horned Helm Mercenaries, Glick and sixteen others!”
At the call of Trevic, the mercenary guild master and recruiter, the ragtag group of mercenaries shot up their hands.
Maren was a big city, but mercenaries were limited, and over half were out on jobs, so fewer than a hundred had gathered.
“Why aren’t we called?”
“Five or fewer successful commissions? Scram! You’d just get in the way!”
A burly mercenary in decent gear bellowed, and the raised hand shrank back.
“Forty-two in total, Sir Madrica.”
“Won’t be much to do anyway, but good enough against goblins. Any cowards fleeing from mere roamers, I, Ron of Madrica, will cut down myself. Spread the word, recruiter.”
“Of course. I trust only you, Sir Madrica.”
Long inured to the knight’s arrogance, Trevic bowed politely.
Guild master or recruiter, placating the knight who’d chase the roamers was the smart move for now.
“Wait! Guildmaster Trevic, we’re joining too!”
“Huh?”
Trevic scowled, turning to see which third-rater was about to embarrass himself.
“Well! Partek?”
“Four of us—room for us?”
“Plenty! Gotta make space for cave-gate conquerors!”
Trevic’s booming voice drew every eye in the guild square.
“Hey, it’s Partek! Heard about the cave-gate subjugation!”
Some mercenaries played familiar.
“Cave-gate subjugation from a dungeon? Those guys?”
Others gawked.
“Wait, back already? Weren’t you three? Picked up a newbie…”
Even those who’d joined the Tiwin dungeon subjugation but arrived first.
The biggest shock came from the last group.
Because the knight slowly raising his visor beside the smug Partek was unforgettable.
“S-Sir Eugene!”
“Sir Eugene! When did you get here!?”
Mercenaries from the cave-gate subjugation rushed over.
He’d looked near-demonic at times, but to them, Eugene was still a hero.
“This morning. You lot fighting roamers too?”
“N-No, sir. Made a killing, so we’re resting. Just spectating. But if you’re stepping up…”
Their eyes shifted.
Eugene yanking a troll’s head clean off was still vivid.
With a knight who’d soloed a mid-tier monster? Even orcs with goblin hordes might…
“Sir Eugene? Who’s that? Move.”
Pushing through came the knight with Trevic.
“I’m Ron of Madrica. Squired for Lord Kapran four years.”
Different vibe from Galpredic.
Tall and solid, but oily where Galpredic was gruff.
“I’m Eugene.”
“Heard you did the Tiwin dungeon cave-gate subjugation? Thought Galpredic went—were you there too? Monsters? What came out?”
Galpredic wasn’t chatty, but this guy was worse, furrowing Eugene’s brow.
Still, Galpredic’s advice rang: no need to feud with fellow knights unless provoked.
“Did it with Sir Galpredic. Kobolds and gnolls, three trolls with goblins, and cave giant spiders.”
Matching the informal tone.
“Rough one, huh. We should hit a dungeon sometime. Anyway, here to fight for Maren? Spirit’s commendable, but no favors. Do what you want.”
Madrica rattled it off without listening and strode back.
Absurd, but typical knight behavior from his past life—Eugene shrugged it off.
“Black Scorpion and Horned Helm! Follow me—you’re the least useless! Rest, do what you want!”
Madrica mounted and rode off; the named mercenaries scrambled after.
His horse wasn’t at full gallop, so they barely kept up.
“Sir Eugene, was it? Joining the roamer subjugation?”
Trevic’s impeccable courtesy earned a nod.
“That’s the plan. But I don’t have a horse…”
“S-Sir Eugene! There you are!”
A unfamiliar voice called; Eugene turned.
“You’re…?”
“Yes, sir. Grail from the Feilin Merchant Group—we met yesterday. Brought your horse.”
“My horse?”
Grail gave an awkward smile and glanced aside as Eugene gaped.
Eugene’s eyes followed.
There stood a fine black warhorse, snorting, clad in dark gray barding over head, neck, and haunches.
‘Ho!’
Seeing Eugene’s eyes widen, Grail sidled close.
“Pedigreed from Agail Stables—supplies Empire knights. Our deputy branch manager picked it out specially as a gift for you. An honor if you accept.”
Eugene narrowed his eyes at Grail’s low whisper.
He didn’t know the full deal, but he’d just scored an insanely expensive warhorse.
(To be continued)