Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Mercenary Recruitment
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“Aigoo! Eugene!”
Gardye, who looked even fatter after just six days, came rushing over, his plump belly jiggling like jelly.
“Did you fare well?”
“Of course. Come on in, come on in. Hey, you lot! Escort these brave warriors who’ve returned victorious!”
“Yes, master.”
Maids and slaves swarmed out to greet the troops. There were more of them now, and their attitudes were even more deferential than before.
Gardye glanced at the troops, then eyed Eugene cautiously before speaking in a low, careful voice.
“But... it seems like the numbers are a bit down.”
“A few fell in battle, and I left Sir Galpredic with part of the men to guard the silver mine.”
“...!”
Gardye clenched his fist without thinking, then swallowed his words before he could offer congratulations.
No matter what, he couldn’t openly celebrate when subordinates had died.
“Shall we rest up for now, then?”
Reading the room, Gardye grew even more deferential.
“No, I’m fine. I have some questions for the guildmaster anyway. Let’s talk first.”
“Very well.”
After sending the underlings away, Gardye personally poured Eugene a drink with great courtesy and asked,
“Sir, what is it you wish to ask me? I’ll answer anything I know.”
“Nothing major. Do you happen to know a Sir Andre?”
“Of course. He’s the Marquis Archibald’s wife’s nephew and was one of the marquis’s knights. But I hear he was the first to betray him when the marquis fell from power.”
“Hm. And the other nobles just let that slide?”
“They should’ve pointed fingers, but those same nobles were the ones who dragged the marquis down in the first place. Cursing Sir Andre would be as good as smearing their own faces. They might badmouth him behind his back, but no one dares say it to his face. Honorless scum!”
If a merchant like Gardye was denouncing them that harshly, it spoke volumes about the outrageous deeds the marquis’s former vassals had committed.
But Eugene didn’t particularly care about that.
“Why do you ask about Sir Andre?”
“The bandit leader Balmong who seized the silver mine seems to have been backed by him.”
“...!”
Gardye’s jaw dropped for a moment before he hurriedly asked,
“I-is that true? That thief Balmong was in Sir Andre’s employ?”
“I confirmed it myself. I kept him alive and locked up, so you can verify it anytime if you want.”
“Hah!”
As Gardye let out a sigh, his eyes flashed sharply for an instant.
True to form as a city guildmaster, he quickly composed himself and said,
“Sir, if we play this right, you could seize control of the entire peninsula.”
“Control?”
Eugene had only wanted advice on how to handle a bandit chief acting as a noble’s pawn, so he tilted his head at the unexpected response.
“Even if the Marquis Archibald ruled tyrannically, that was his domain and his vassals’ business—not ours. But his downfall and confinement in his castle only made the peninsula more chaotic.”
“Hm. So I’ve heard.”
“Either way, his vassals betrayed their lord, so no one can claim legitimate authority or rightful succession.”
“Not even the marquis’s direct kin?”
“That’s just it. The direct heirs each have their own vassals claiming to be the successor, but from us city folk’s perspective, they’re all the same crooks.”
Spitting such radical words—calling nobles “crooks”—Gardye pressed on eagerly.
“And now Sir Andre, who answers to Duke Gabriel—one of the marquis’s sons—backed a bandit who murdered a noble to seize Duke Bemos’s silver mine. But!”
Eugene’s eyes changed as the picture came into focus.
“Sir Andre couldn’t have acted alone. That’s what you’re saying.”
“Exactly! Brilliant as always. Even if they deny it, it doesn’t matter. If you step forward, Sir Eugene, Mopern City and I, Gardye, will stand behind you.”
“The city?”
“Of course! Thanks to you, Sir, the route to Baron Beogalan’s lands is secure. The mayor and other guildmasters are already watching you closely. And now you’ve got a chance to solidify your position here?”
A strong, sharp, and incredibly lucky young knight.
Gardye beamed as he answered his own question to the man who might one day conquer the peninsula.
“For the stability of the peninsula if nothing else! Mopern will support you with everything we have.”
* * *
“That’s him.”
“He’s handsome enough, but isn’t he too young?”
“Doesn’t look like much, and he took down a wyvern?”
“I hear he killed two trolls over in Maren.”
Mercenaries gathered in a pub near the Mopern Mercenary Guild buzzed with chatter.
The place was packed from the first floor to the second, not just with mercenaries but also city notables and knights drawn to catch a glimpse of the Wyvern Slayer himself. Eugene was already a celebrity.
Rumors swirled that he’d secured the agreement of Baron Beogalan and nearby nobles to become their lord.
But few took it at face value.
He wasn’t even local—just a fresh-faced young knight from distant Maren who’d achieved the improbable in so short a time.
Worse, the wyvern’s remains—subject of endless rumors—had been loaded onto a ship and sent to Maren in a single day, leaving almost no one to verify them firsthand.
His name was out there, but hard proof? Scarce.
That was the situation.
“Quiet down, everyone!”
The Mopern Mercenary Guildmaster stepped into the pub’s center and bellowed.
Like guildmasters in most cities—who doubled as recruiters—he was over forty but still rippling with muscle and vigor, a man even the roughest mercenaries respected.
“As you’ve all heard, this gathering is for Sir Eugene here to hire troops.”
“What? Why call us all here if he’s just hiring a few?”
One mid-tier mercenary captain based in Mopern shot his hand up.
The guildmaster glared irritably and snapped,
“Questions after I’m done, Gailo.”
“Come on, though? A single knight hiring mercenaries, and the guildmaster himself rounds everyone up? I don’t get it. Anyone else?”
“Right!”
“A guildmaster can’t just order busy folks around like this!”
“At least pass out some free ale first!”
“I’ll piss in your mugs? Still got some rum from last night—nice and fermented.”
Wahahahaha!
“You bastards...”
Predictably rowdy, the mood soured fast. As the guildmaster’s temper flared—
“I’ll handle it.”
Eugene, who’d stood silently, spoke low to the guildmaster.
“Tch. Fine, go ahead.”
He hadn’t wanted the spotlight anyway—this was all at Gardye’s insistence—so he yielded readily.
“Bring out some ale at least!”
“Yeah! Hiring shmiring—let’s wet our throats!”
“Dragged us out at dawn’s crack—now I’m starving!”
The mercenaries ignored Eugene entirely.
Curious and envious notables and nobles, there just to see his face, watched the chaos gleefully.
Some even egged on the mercenaries.
What greenhorn knight with a pretty boy face had ever dealt with this powder keg?
He looked like a pampered noble knight who’d lucked into rare success—probably about to rage or...
BAM!
“Gah!?”
A thunderous crash startled everyone in the pub.
Eyes widened in disbelief.
Eugene held a battle axe in one hand—nobody knew where it came from. Before him lay a massive oak table, split clean in two.
The two-meter-wide table had been cleaved in a single stroke.
A few knights and mercenaries here could smash such a table.
But none could bisect it perfectly in one swing like Eugene.
Ting!
In the stunned silence, a clear metallic ring echoed.
“...!?”
The pub owner, jaw agape, instinctively snatched the silver coin Eugene had flicked his way.
He eyed the coin, then Eugene, before saying cautiously,
“Uh... this won’t cover it, sir knight.”
“...”
Eugene flinched and glanced at the guildmaster.
“Ah... how much, then?”
As the guildmaster settled the bill, Eugene scanned the entire pub and said,
“You. Gailo, was it?”
“Y-yes.”
The instigator mercenary captain startled at being called out, then jutted his chin defiantly.
What’s he gonna do with everyone watching?
“Get out. Scram.”
“...!?”
Gailo’s eyes bulged. He scowled arrogantly and yelled to his men,
“Damn it! Wasted time. Let’s go!”
“Yeah.”
Five or six mercenaries stood and followed him.
Ignoring them as they headed for the stairs, Eugene addressed the rest.
“Some of you might know—I’ve become lord of four villages with the consent of Baron Beogalan and nearby nobles.”
They froze.
Gailo halted mid-stride down the stairs.
“Paranan, Baran, Mintan, Fezil. Those four villages are mine. And just days ago, I reclaimed the Nadir Mountain silver mine.”
Wooooah!
A roar like a storm swept the pub.
Even those clueless about Nadir Mountain couldn’t contain their excitement.
Gold and silver mines were badges of a successful lord, rivaled only by magic crystals.
And Nadir’s silver mine? Every knight and notable here had coveted it inwardly but feared the surrounding lords and mercenaries too much to act.
Now it was in this knight’s hands.
“I’ve already secured the Feilin Merchant Group and Mopern Merchant Guild for development. So...”
With every mercenary’s eyes gleaming with greed, fixed solely on him, Eugene spoke low but weighty.
“No need to worry about pay.”
Wooooah!
Knights chase honor, mercenaries silver.
The ancient adage rang true as they stomped and cheered.
“And!”
Eugene raised his voice slightly, and the pub fell magically silent.
“I’m not content with four villages and a silver mine.”
“...!”
“First come, first served—hiring a hundred. No looting, but spoils and reparations divided by merit. Who’ll follow me?”
“Me!”
“The Iron Bulls Mercenary Corps is in!”
“Pop and ten more—joining up!”
“Sir! Need any knights!?”
“Sir Eugene!”
“Hyuuung!”
The pub erupted.
Mercenaries and knights alike shouted with bloodshot eyes.
The notables, too, eyed Eugene—who’d openly declared war on the fractured peninsula—with fervor, already calculating profits.
“Kya! Spirits, vampires, humans—money’s the best! Always fresh! Thrilling! Silver forever! Keehehehet!”
Mirian cackled smugly, united in desire beyond race.
Not everyone joined the frenzy, though.
“Crazy bastards. Believing that crap without proof.”
“Yeah. Wyvern story might be fake.”
Gailo and his men grumbled from the stairs.
Eugene beckoned silently. Mark dashed over.
He handed Eugene a spear, which he swung.
Whoosh!
The sharp whistle made Gailo step back.
“W-what’s that for?”
“Curious how I took the wyvern?”
“...”
Ignoring Gailo swallowing hard at the spear, Eugene hurled it without hesitation.
Shuuu! Thunk!
It sliced through dozens of men like lightning, embedding in the pub wall.
“...!”
Stunned stares fixed on the quivering spear.
The nearest man yelled in disbelief.
“The spear... it’s in the wyvern’s eye!”
“No way!”
It was true.
The spear had pierced deep into the painted wyvern’s head on the stone wall mural—palm-sized, wings spread.
All marveled at the ghostly throw. Eugene’s icy gaze turned to Gailo.
“That’s how. Now beat it—before I put a hole in your skull.”
“S-sorry!”
Gailo fled under Eugene’s chill stare.
His men followed awkwardly, their eyes ominous—his band likely disbanded by day’s end.
(To be continued)
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