Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: The Documents
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With Mike Hoare’s return to the Mercenary Corps, everything started to fall into place.
The Mercenary Corps stabilized, once again finding its vitality. The presence of a commander was truly like a spiritual pillar.
A figure the members could trust and rely on.
He reorganized the corps, placing people in their rightful positions, and proceeded with the long-overdue negotiations with the Holy Kingdom and Rzhev.
Granted a break in the process, I holed myself up in my room, focusing on examining the documents I'd found in the vault.
Who on earth brought these documents to that vault, and for what purpose? And why lock the door with such an absurdly tough metal, making it impossible to open easily?
A Sword Master could typically cut through the door of a normal vault, though it would take some time and effort.
But not that door.
According to Dwalin, it wasn't even pure Eternelle. It was, quite literally, a ridiculously expensive metal.
An alloy of Eternelle and Adamant couldn't be easily cut, not even by the aura of a Sword Master.
“To protect these documents from someone. And for someone.”
Someone with money. No, someone with an obscene amount of money and power.
A noble or a merchant. That's about as far as I could narrow it down. It probably wasn't a merchant. I didn't have any particularly deep ties with them in my past life.
That leaves the nobility, specifically someone from the central aristocracy.
“Then it has to be a central noble. But who? A member of the imperial family?”
That makes no sense. The whole reason I'm here, possessing another body, is because of the Emperor.
As for the imperial family, there was only Shiv Grewele and his son, Shiv Pandit. The empress had passed away long ago, and there were no concubines. He must have been too busy with the war. When I died, Shiv Pandit was still unmarried.
The more I examined the documents, the more questions I had. They were, quite literally, all related to me.
My movements, my history, every order I had ever given with a memo or a signature.
The records under the name Prometheus—all of which I thought had vanished.
“Who on earth…”
I'd sifted through countless papers, but I couldn't find anything of note. It was frustrating. Not a single clue.
And I had gone through a lot of them.
“Hoo— Who are you.”
It's not like I'm Oh Dae-su from *Oldboy*.
“Ugh— Aack—!”
Just as I was stretching my stiff back, having failed to find an answer for some time.
*Flap—*
The chair tilted back sharply, and as my knees hit the desk, the papers I had laid out spilled to the floor.
A single sheet of memo paper, tucked among them, fluttered down.
And when I unconsciously picked it up.
[? order to move the docu? decided. Gather as many docume? as possible. Hysteria is getting worse?.]
The handwriting was a hasty scrawl. The ink was smudged, perhaps from time and pressure between the pages, making it impossible to read in its entirety, but I could still make out some key parts.
Someone's order, someone's hysteria.
Was my very existence a sore spot for someone? Enough to make them hysterical?
“Well, that's a little hurtful.”
There was too much conflicting information, so I stood up to clear my head.
Perhaps Krain Rzhev or Mike Hoare would know something.
***
“You found these in the vault?”
With Krain Rzhev, Mike Hoare, and even Peri Batoni gathered, I took the stack of papers out of my inventory.
“I found them in the very last vault in the Lubeck underground.”
As they looked over a few of the booklets and the stack of papers, they exchanged startled glances, shocked by the name that appeared on all of them.
“It's all related to the movements of Prometheus. Everything. I found a note suggesting someone was ordered to gather them, but I couldn't identify who.”
“Why was this in a bank's underground vault...?”
“And with a vault door made from an Eternelle alloy, as if to say it should never be opened.”
“It doesn't make sense. Who on earth would hide this in a vault?”
They all looked baffled. If such a place had existed in the deepest recesses of the vault, a rumor would have surely spread.
Especially to them, who had been close to Prometheus and had remained loyal until the very end.
“Can you think of anyone specific?”
They all shook their heads at the question, signaling they had no idea.
“Whoever collected Prometheus's files would certainly have to be someone with power and money.”
“Hysteria... The Emperor? I did hear his fits grew worse right after Prometheus died.”
I had hoped to get some sort of hint, but things were still completely up in the air.
“What about Shiv Pandit? Someone with that much power and money would have to be in a similar position.”
“The Prince?”
“Not him. He's just a gloomy little brat. We never saw hide nor hair of him when the war broke out, not even after Prometheus died.”
“Hmm.”
“Still, this means there was someone within the Empire who shared our ideals, someone we didn't know about. We should be content with that.”
Krain Rzhev muttered with a bitter expression. After all, countless comrades had already died because of that incident.
“It doesn't matter who ordered these documents to be preserved. What's important is that they still exist. We have some records stored with the Mercenary Corps, but...”
Mike Hoare clenched his fist for a moment before continuing.
“There's a high chance they were lost when that bastard Iscario staged his coup.”
These men didn't care who had preserved the documents; the fact that they existed at all was what mattered most to them.
And for good reason. These documents were proof that the man named Prometheus had lived—proof of the policies he enacted, the work he did, and the ideas he held.
They were proof of why we followed him, why we miss him, and why his unjust death was reason enough to rebel against the Empire.
“Once the Mercenary Corps headquarters is established in the Demonic Realm, we'll have to store these there safely.”
“Ahem, wouldn't it be better to keep them in Rzhev?”
“Kratos found them, so of course they should be kept at the Mercenary Corps headquarters. Especially with a war about to break out.”
“And what will you do if you get stabbed in the back again?”
Sparks flew between Krain Rzhev and Mike Hoare over where to keep the documents of Prometheus that Kratos had discovered.
Heh. Why are they making this so awkward?
***
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!”
The former headquarters of the White Mercenary Corps.
There, in a place still scarred by battle—not in Mike Hoare's office, but in the one Peri Batoni used to occupy—Iscario was tearing at his hair.
It was, quite literally, the worst-case scenario. Mike Hoare had returned from the southern mountains, and Peri Batoni had awakened.
On top of that, those bastards had established themselves in the north and were expanding their forces once more.
“I have to find a way. A way. At this rate...”
Of course, plenty of mercenaries had joined him since the incident, but the grass is always greener on the other side.
The Demonic Realm as the new headquarters for the Mercenary Corps.
And then there was him.
“A mission.”
The man who had just barged in without even knocking.
An agent dispatched from the Empire, a warrior on the level of a Sword Master, an operative from the Central Intelligence Bureau.
The Mercenary Corps had become his complete puppet.
“What is it this time...”
He was nothing more than a slave. He hadn't expected zero interference, but this was excessive.
They were being relentlessly driven into dangerous regions for a pittance, with no chance to rest.
As a result, complaints were beginning to surface among the mercenaries he was supposed to be managing.
“Monster cleanup in the south. Prepare to leave at once. It's apparently quite urgent.”
“We just returned from our last mission...”
The moment he finished speaking, an intangible magi flooded the room. Iscario felt a wave of nausea, his stomach churning.
“You're just a mercenary. Why so many complaints? Isn't this what you wanted? To get missions and get paid?”
“I... I understand. Please, just stop...”
Forced halfway to his knees by the intangible energy, Iscario trembled as he spoke.
“You're all just dogs who'd sell your own lives for coin.”
Clenching his fists was the only thing he could do. There was no other response.
He had already sold out his comrades for money and personal gain.
The Mercenary Corps he had envisioned was gone. Only the Empire's puppet remained.
***
“They are?”
- Yes.
“The absolute madmen. There's a limit to how many foolish ideas one can have with a full belly and a warm bed. And after I handed them everything on a silver platter.”
Ludwig Brandt clicked his tongue and shook his head at the report from Ashar.
“That's what you get from mercenaries with no principles.”
He couldn't have asked for my help without knowing this would happen. If he truly didn't know, then that mercenary named Iscario has reached the end of his usefulness.
Such a fool, incapable of thinking any further.
“Tsk. Poison them all with magi.”
- Understood.
“Something like rage or jealousy should do nicely.”
Ludwig Brandt fell silent for a moment before speaking again.
“No, let's go with jealousy. The target of their envy will be those traitors in the north, after all.”
- Understood. I will have them poisoned before tomorrow's mission.
Every human had a type of magi that could be maximized within them. And for those mercenaries, the magi of jealousy seemed like a perfect fit.
After all, their betrayal of the original Mercenary Corps had been born from jealousy.
“And the northerners?”
“No significant movements. It appears they're focused on stabilizing their internal affairs.”
“They're capable of pulling some nonsense at any moment.”
I can't let my guard down. We must monitor their every move.
“We've sent more personnel to the north, but approaching the Demonic Realm is difficult. Furthermore, we've lost contact with the agents who were already there.”
“Just a string of bad luck. Have you investigated that man, Lupin, or whatever he's called?”
“For now, his connection to this Kratos fellow seems minimal. Iscario also acted as if he didn't know him.”
“These ghosts of the past have been showing up far too often lately, and I don't like it. That Kratos being the traitor's disciple is one thing. And now a thief we haven't seen in over a decade decides to resurface.”
The occurrence of such events was deeply unsettling. Things were slipping from his control.
“The White Mercenary Corps. And their commander is what? A Grand Master? Do they think this is a child's game?”
As the Central Intelligence Bureau, he was supposed to control all information within the Empire, to hold every incident in the palm of his hand.
But it felt as though uncontrollable events were slipping through his grasp like sand.
“Expand our manpower and tighten the intelligence network. Information is essential for what's to come.”
“Understood.”
“In any case, as time passes and more people fall under the influence, slaves will become easier to procure.”
And at the end of their conversation, Ludwig tapped the armrest and posed a question.
“How is the matter regarding the ruins progressing?”
“We're currently investigating the Mercenary Corps, but we have yet to identify who opened the gate to the ruins.”
“The opening of the ruins' gate is a matter of grave importance. You must be thorough. It is a matter of great concern to our god.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
During the conversation, an aide entered cautiously.
“Director, it is time.”
“Ah, is it that time already?”
The most important time of the day.
He connected the communication orb, and a voice came through. The voice of a god.
And this voice was being heard, exactly the same, all across the Empire.
As if to brainwash them all.