Field War (4)

With the last priestess’s life snuffed out, the cleanup around me was finished.

The battlefield still bore the scars of war, yet corpses were scarce. Unless the environment was something special, a user’s body vanished within a minute of death. Even the terrain wrecked by the fighting was slowly knitting itself back together.

Venom Guild had withdrawn. Sulpang, who had pursued them, pressed the advantage, and today’s battle finally wound down. Thanks to that, the plain I had crashed into became a quiet, empty stretch of land again, as if nothing had ever happened.

I was gulping down a tasteless recovery potion when a sudden irritation prickled through me.

Five guilds in total had applied to join the siege of the Ancient Kingdom Territory. More than by their individual names, they were famous as the “Crusaders.” Cross, Venezia, and the Ministry of Defense formed the core of the alliance, and that was how the nickname stuck.

The name might sound ridiculous, but they had once been the beasts that ruled the siege scene. Before the current two-power structure settled in, they had controlled a full thirty percent of the continent.

The nickname “Cross” belonged to the guild master of Cross itself—the de facto leader of the alliance. He had also been one of the clients who used me relentlessly. The frequency had dropped sharply these days, but there had been a time when he was what people called a “big spender.”

So he should know perfectly well what his current behavior looked like to me.

I leaned back against a tree and pulled out a dagger, spinning it idly between my fingers.

“Venom didn’t say much, actually. I ran into Immae earlier.”

“That depends on my situation. It’s not like we had a contract. I’ve even fought on the same side as you before, Cross.”

Ah. Now it was clear.

Cross was threatening me. Telling me to stay out of this war.

The first person to hear about my participation would have been the guild master of Venom—the one Immaemangryang belonged to. They must have shared the intel with the alliance, and that was how it reached Cross’s ears.

What mattered was that no one from any other guild had contacted me separately. That was simply good manners. I was only here as a mercenary, after all. There was a reason Immaemangryang had started by asking whether I had “settled down.” There was no need to overstimulate someone who might become an ally next time. They had been testing the line—figuring out how to treat me.

“As you know, I tend to take jobs that pay.”

“Heh. Sounds like you’re pretty confident.”

The wording. And the tone. Both grated on me.

“Look the other way?”

“Exactly what was supposed to be unintentional?”

“Well… once the next siege ends, I was planning to go unaffiliated again.”

Cross was coming on hard. He was dressing it up nicely, but the meaning was clear: if I didn’t do as I was told, our relationship would turn ugly going forward. More bluntly, he was threatening a kill order.

I forced myself to think it through carefully. Cross was not an incompetent man. Even back when the community treated me like a stream-sniping pest, he had recognized my value and never skimped on payment. He had known my skill long before I ever won the Arena.

“Hmm…”

Maybe I should set my bruised pride aside for a moment. His words were arrogant, but this was a matter that touched my long-term income. I needed to run the numbers coldly.

What I stood to gain by digging in my heels was mercenary pay. What I stood to lose was one long-time regular client. There was still plenty of time before the siege, so even if I pulled out now, my reputation wouldn’t take a real hit. Rationally speaking, saying goodbye to Sulpang looked like a choice worth considering.

But no. This was not an option I could choose.

“No need to wait.”

“Don’t need that either.”

Had he been in too much of a hurry? If he truly wanted me to back down, this was the wrong way to go about it. Any other mercenary might have swallowed the insult and withdrawn. Hell, a year ago I might have done the same. Pressure from a major guild was genuinely heavy. I would have smoothed things over later with a show of “sincerity,” of course—losing a skilled mercenary hurt them just as much. The old Cross had possessed that kind of weight.

But I was different now. My name had grown while Cross had shrunk. If word got out that I had tucked my tail and run from something this small, my value as a mercenary would be damaged. A mercenary who bends once can always bend again. In short, Cross no longer had the power to yank me around. Corner me, and the mouse would bite the cat.

“I think you’re laboring under a bit of a misunderstanding. I’m not so weak that I’d start shaking just because the Crusaders glared at me. Even Iris doesn’t treat me this rudely.”

“Yes. By all means.”

The water was spilled. In this war, I might ignore the others—but Cross Guild, at least, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I would crush without fail.

I had essentially issued a clean declaration of war… yet I had no intention of doing anything about it right away. War was not something I fought alone. I could influence it heavily, yes, but a single person’s strength could never decide victory or defeat completely. If that were possible, I would have founded my own siege guild and monopolized the profits long ago.

Objectively, our side was still the weaker force. No matter how hard I harassed their rear, the frontal disadvantage would not simply vanish. They knew me well enough to prepare thoroughly. So for now, I would do what I wanted. Strengthening the roster was Sulpang’s job to run around for; I would adjust my condition and then deploy. I had been given rest until tomorrow morning, when ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rehab training began.

Conveniently, the pro league was holding the season opener between Luce and Traveler. I watched while eating the snack I had prepared—vanilla ice cream in a paper cup.

Arena championship prize money, the distribution from Cradle of Obsession, plus the gold I had plundered on the New Continent. The current Han Daeun had a fatter wallet than ever before. A little luxury like this? I could afford it.

Camellia was someone I had fought recently. During the second preliminaries I had pulled out a swordsman and gotten thoroughly wrecked by her. For how skilled she was, she had lacked polish—or rather, I had strongly felt she never showed everything she had.

Wow. That was embarrassing. Even so, hearing the casters mention the name Gawol always carried a sweet little ring.

On camera, Camellia’s face was full of venom. It reminded me of the old days. I used to look like that during kendo matches too. Tch. I had gone and thought something pointless. Before the mood could sour, I took a bite of ice cream. Soft, sweet flavor spread across my tongue.

In this one respect, a woman’s body wasn’t entirely a downside. Back then, a single mouthful of ice cream had never given me this much satisfaction. The happiness I got from “taste” was incomparably greater now. Even at this moment a warm, languid pleasure was blooming in my chest. At least it wasn’t instant noodles, so everything tasted good. It wasn’t that I hated ramen—I had just eaten far too much of it.

The instant both teams finished their selections and confirmed their opponents, the white-clad swordsman Camellia’s teeth ground together with a chilling crunch.

Hmm… Looks like the grudge runs pretty deep. Did something ugly happen between them? I hope it resolves amicably.