The Benefactor and the Reward
In the Marjanta branch of the Mandolo Merchant Guild.
The guild master, Mandolo Cranes, wiped a hand wearily down his face.
“So?”
“We… we located the bodies of the escorts Kitty and Maren, but…”
“…You’re telling me you couldn’t find Iria.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Mandolo let out a heavy sigh.
His daughter, Iria, had been kidnapped.
If he had known this would happen, he never would have brought her along.
It had been a mistake to send her to the capital a little early for the Victoria Academy entrance exam.
No—the real mistake had been indulging her excitement about the trip and letting her wander freely.
“That leaves only two possibilities.”
In Marjanta, only two organizations had the audacity to lay a hand on a noblewoman traveling with an escort.
Paldun and Narakazun, the two powers that divided the city’s underworld between them.
“Have you made contact?”
“Yes. We reached out to Narakazun, but they claimed they knew nothing.”
“Then it must be Paldun.”
Of all the rotten luck.
Mandolo’s mood sank even lower.
Narakazun would have been preferable. The man was greedy, but not stupid enough to cross a merchant guild he already had ties with. He liked to play the part of a refined noble bastard; he would have laughed it off as a subordinate’s mistake and demanded an exorbitant ransom.
Paldun was different.
He already harbored resentment toward the Mandolo Merchant Guild for aligning with Narakazun. There was no doubt he would issue every threat imaginable alongside an impossible price.
Even if Mandolo paid it, Iria would suffer unspeakable horrors and carry scars for the rest of her life.
Just imagining it made his fists clench until the knuckles turned white.
“…What should we do?”
“Call off the search.”
“Are you certain, sir?”
Of course he wasn’t.
His jaw tightened, but Mandolo kept his voice steady.
“We can’t tear apart the entire slum, and Narakazun won’t lift a finger to help. I doubt the lord governor will intervene either.”
“If it’s only Paldun, mobilizing the entire branch might—”
“We might win. But the moment we stagger, Narakazun will join hands with the Ormus Guild and stab us in the back. That’s enough. You’re dismissed.”
Mandolo gave the order in a voice so drained it sounded as if he might collapse at any moment.
The moment the employee bowed deeply and left, Mandolo rummaged through a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of strong liquor, and poured himself a glass.
In the amber liquid, his own reflection overlapped with the face of his beloved daughter, Iria.
He could still see her studying diligently, always saying she wanted to help her father.
Her playful, affectionate voice from when she was younger echoed in his ears.
Mandolo squeezed his eyes shut, drew a deep breath, and tossed the liquor down his throat in one gulp.
The burning alcohol scorched his esophagus and set his body aflame.
He tilted the bottle to pour a second glass when the door suddenly burst open.
“…What is it?”
The rude intrusion soured his mood further, and his words came out sharp. Yet the employee only stood there panting, face bright with excitement, unable to speak.
Mandolo’s patience—already at its limit—snapped. He was about to hurl the glass in his hand when the employee finally caught his breath.
“The young lady has returned!”
“What did you say?!”
The unbelievable news jolted Mandolo to his feet.
***
Following the direction Iria pointed, they arrived at a rather respectable two-story wooden building.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes, Master Cardnios. This is the Marjanta branch of the Mandolo Merchant Guild.”
“Shall I set you down now?”
“Mmm…”
Iria, still perched on his forearm, let out a small, reluctant sound. She clearly had no desire to get down.
It wasn’t that she was heavy; she was simply conscious of the stares.
Since she didn’t want to descend, he had no intention of forcing her. He carried her in his arms all the way to the entrance. One of the guards stationed there stared at them intently before suddenly bolting inside in shock.
As they drew closer, the remaining guard came rushing toward them in a panic.
“Young lady! Are you all right?!”
“Ah, Hans… Thanks to this benefactor, I was rescued before anything worse could happen.”
Hans turned to look at the man holding Iria in his arms, his gaze complicated for a moment, then bowed at a perfect ninety degrees.
“Thank you for saving the young lady.”
“I only did what needed to be done. Please raise your head.”
“You are a benefactor to our Mandolo Merchant Guild. The guild master will surely—”
Clatter, clatter, clatter.
The urgent sound of footsteps cut off the guard Hans. When they turned, a middle-aged man with blue hair—resembling Iria—came rushing down in a disheveled state.
“Iria!”
“Father!”
Cardnios bent his knees slightly to adjust the height so Iria could step down, but she refused. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.
Her father froze at the sight.
“Iria, is this really appropriate in front of your father?”
“My body still feels weak… I can’t help it.”
Was it just him, or did that sound a lot like you did this to me, so take responsibility?
Iria’s father watched the two of them converse intimately for a moment, then carefully looked his daughter up and down.
He let out a small sigh, straightened his posture, and adjusted the front of his jacket.
“Ahem. Iria, are you hurt anywhere?”
His voice trembled slightly. Iria smiled brightly and nodded.
“No. Thanks to Master Cardnios here, nothing terrible happened.”
“…Thank goodness.”
Iria’s father closed his eyes tightly and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
When he opened them again, he turned to Cardnios and extended his hand.
“I am Iria’s father, Mandolo Cranes.”
“I am Cardnios.”
“Yes, Cardnios. I cannot thank you enough—truly, from the bottom of my heart.”
Mandolo grasped Cardnios’s gloved hand with both of his own and bowed deeply.
“If not for you, something truly terrible would have occurred.”
The moisture in his voice was unmistakable. Cardnios remained silent, simply waiting until the man regained his composure.
After a moment, Mandolo lifted his head. His eyes were faintly red as he gestured toward the building.
“Please, come inside. We cannot keep our guild’s benefactor standing out here forever.”
***
While Iria stepped away briefly to change her clothes, Mandolo led Cardnios into the reception room. His mind was in utter turmoil.
He had never believed his daughter’s claim that “nothing serious” had happened.
The two escorts who had been like friends to her had been murdered before her eyes.
She had returned wearing rags instead of the outfit she left in, and her cheek was slightly swollen.
She was even limping.
He didn’t need to ask to know what kind of hell she had endured.
She had simply kept silent so her father wouldn’t worry.
He wanted nothing more than to gather every fighter in the branch and tear Paldun apart, but he held himself back.
If his daughter could endure it without showing it, then he—as the adult—could not lose control and do something foolish.
He simply clenched his fists and swallowed his rage.
Besides, Paldun was no longer the most important matter.
“Hm, Cardnios. Is black tea acceptable?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Very well.”
Ding.
Mandolo rang the summoning bell and ordered his secretary to prepare tea and refreshments, then sat down across from Cardnios.
The man was strikingly handsome—one of the few such individuals Mandolo had encountered in his fifty years of life.
Despite the languid aura of exhaustion and the pale complexion that suggested poor health, he did not seem frail.
Those golden eyes, which hid neither desire nor interest, combined with the strange allure he exuded, created a deeply decadent charm when paired with his pallor.
Mandolo was no fool. He could tell at a glance that Iria had fallen for this man.
He was not so narrow-minded that he could not understand why his daughter had become enamored with him.
If Iria wanted it, he had no intention of opposing the match—but there was one problem.
Cardnios was an Incubus, radiating demonic energy from every pore.
While the Incubus race was technically counted among the humanoid species, their social standing was far from favorable.
With black mages and demons constantly committing acts of terror, anyone emitting similar energy became a target of misplaced hatred.
It was unfair, yet unavoidable.
The ignorant masses and blame-hungry nobles had no reason to show consideration to a race with neither foundation nor power.
The situation was so dire that even after the Church denied the claims, rumors that Incubi summoned demons circulated openly. Some Incubi had even turned to true black magic out of desperation.
It had long since become common knowledge that Incubus black mages who wielded demonic energy from birth posed a greater threat than actual demons.
It was an utterly pointless tragedy.
Mandolo hoped, if possible, that Iria would not become entangled with an Incubus and get swept up in ugly rumors—but then his gaze fell on the massive black battle-axe leaning by the reception room entrance.
Next, he caught the faint scent of blood that brushed the tip of his nose.
Cardnios was clearly a powerful individual.
He was at least a User, possibly even higher.
If a man like this turned to black magic?
It was a nightmare Mandolo did not even want to imagine.
Since Iria had already given her heart to him, it would be better to keep the man close under the pretext of gratitude and observe him.
Clink. Clink.
Just as Mandolo’s thoughts had settled, the secretary brought in the tea and refreshments.
Mandolo lifted his cup first and took a sip. Cardnios followed suit.
“Ahem. As I said before, I cannot thank you enough. We are deeply indebted to you. If there is anything you desire, please speak freely. I will help in any way I can.”
At Mandolo’s words, Cardnios set down his teacup and began explaining his situation.
How he had awakened in the slums.
How his memories were partially fragmented.
How he had gotten into a quarrel with the local thugs.
And how, to eliminate any future threats, he had wiped out the entire gang—including those who had returned to their hideout—before rescuing Iria.
Mandolo raised a hand, interrupting the story.
“Wait. What did you just say?”
“I eliminated everyone in the hideout as well as those who had returned, then rescued Lady Iria.”
“Was there a large man with a square jaw and a scar over his right eye?”
Cardnios rested a hand on his chin for a moment, thinking, then nodded as if recalling something.
“Ah, yes. There was.”
“What happened to him?”
“I split him vertically.”
“…I see.”
This man had killed Paldun?
The casual way he had to pause to remember suggested he had done it without much effort.
Paldun was merely a User-rank warrior, but in Marjanta he was not someone to be taken lightly.
He commanded nearly a hundred men, and even without him, there were over a dozen Users among them.
To speak of wiping them out as if they were nothing more than flies—
At the very least, he had to be an Expert.
Having realized this, Mandolo leaned back deeply into the sofa.
He had not been able to exact revenge himself, but his heart felt considerably lighter.
At the same time, his wariness toward Cardnios grew even stronger.
This was a truly dangerous individual.
Yet letting such a man slip away or turning him into an enemy would be even more foolish.
If treated with proper respect and kept close, he could become the key to greatly expanding the guild.
“I see… Thank you for avenging us. The man you killed—Paldun—was the one who kidnapped our daughter.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. After hearing your story, I now know exactly what you need.”
He had to secure this man at all costs.
With that thought, Mandolo spoke.
“If you are willing, would you consider becoming my daughter’s personal guard?”
