Chapter 107
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 107
Chapter Title: Killing Pappenheim (4)
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Rhine Palatinate Imperial Army camp, the open area on the right.
Right now, I was leading five hundred mercenaries selected from the various companies participating in this expedition, marching them around like I was some kind of 21st-century union chairman spearheading a protest.
"Baron Pappenheim tampered with our reward allocations! Correct them properly!"
"That bastard covered the Emperor's eyes and ears!"
"Don't let such a dishonorable coward get away with it!"
Just as I was starting to think this scene—raising our voices to denounce a specific target and demanding resolution from the higher-ups—could pass for a protest in some 21st-century country if not for the armor I was wearing...
One guy from another mercenary company crossed the line with what he was about to say.
"Baron Pappenheim's superior, the Margrave..."
He wasn't from our company, but I couldn't let that damned fool finish his sentence, or we'd all end up with our heads on pikes...
So I dashed over like a bolt of lightning and smashed the back of his head hard.
The guy, suddenly struck hard on the skull, whipped his head toward me, frowning and grinding his teeth.
"You think the Black Lion Mercenaries are just full of bullshit artists? I came out here to fix the messed-up rewards... Why the hell are you hitting me?"
He glared at me, flicking his eyes downward like he was telling me to watch my gaze.
I clamped down on both his shoulders with aura surging through my grip, not having grasped the situation yet, the idiot.
A crunching sound came from him, and a scream burst from his mouth.
"Agh, fuck! It hurts! Fuck! I surrender, I surrender, you shitty bastard."
Even hearing that, I kept the pain going without leaving any marks on his body and whispered.
"You can curse out that baron bastard all you want since he openly stole our company's achievements, but if you drag the Margrave or other nobles into it, haven't you heard what happens?"
Only then did the guy start nodding vigorously, whether from remorse or just the pain.
"If you tarnish other nobles' honor, you might end up crossing swords with Sword Master Sir Ainz. If you're lucky, you keep your life, but no pay, and you won't set foot in any imperial contracts again. If your luck's shit, we're all massacred, you cheese-brained fuck from half a year ago."
To the nobles, honor was more precious than life.
This wasn't hyperbole—it was literally true.
Some overzealous parents would even force their daughters to hang themselves if they weren't virgins anymore, not from promiscuity but from rape.
The noble who lost honor was treated like a child rapist in noble society, and everyone tied to their house suffered massive disadvantages.
So messing with nobles' honor was like screaming, "Please kill me painfully."
"Y-yes, I won't do it again."
"We're doing this to make a living—why pull stunts that get us killed?"
As I was properly educating this lunatic about to spit out reckless words, a voice called from afar.
"I'm Poltrun Schmitz, a mid-tier knight under Margrave Estelle. I'll stake my name on delivering your legitimate demands directly to the Margrave himself, so everyone, disperse."
Normal protests often ended with mid-tier knights—or lucky ones, high-tier—tossing some extra coin like pocket change.
But now a mid-tier knight was staking his honor to help resolve it, so the mercenary captains and troops around brightened up considerably.
'If he's here to strong-arm us, he should at least grimace without crossing the line, right?'
"Sir Schmitz, we've suffered losses in this reward allocation because of Baron Pappenheim. And ignoring it would, regrettably, tarnish His Majesty's prestige."
This was like how, if a local government botched a natural disaster response, the buck ultimately rose to the 'president.'
Knowing that, Sir Schmitz couldn't really counter.
"That's true, but everything has procedures."
"We're just peacefully protesting here according to custom."
As I said, we were out in the blazing midday sun, not swinging weapons, just chanting slogans and cursing Pappenheim peacefully.
While Sir Schmitz was rolling his eyes, figuring out what to do...
A bold voice shouted confidently from the distance.
"Margrave Estelle has arrived in person! Everyone, show respect."
At those words, I and all the mercenaries bowed.
The Margrave signaled us to rise with a hand gesture.
"I already know why you're protesting, so no need to explain. Let's cut to the chase—what do you want?"
All the mercenaries' eyes turned to me.
Estelle saw their attention and gazes focus on me and flashed a slightly perverse smile.
'......Is this guy gay or something?'
Why was this dude blushing and grinning at me like that?
"It's clear fact that Baron Pappenheim tried to steal the White Beard Mercenary Corps' achievements. Moreover, in the process, he underreported the accomplishments of the mercenary companies here, so we haven't been properly rewarded for our dedication."
As I spoke up, murmurs came from the guys behind me.
"That guy's pretty good? Logically persuading even the Margrave."
"The content's obvious, but saying it ain't easy. Takes more than guts."
"Not bad, the bastard..."
The chatter from behind was praising me as pretty impressive.
And rightly so—to compare our relationship to a company, I was just a section chief at a subcontractor, while he was the president of a major corporation's affiliate.
Normally, I'd just grovel to Margrave Estelle; we couldn't boldly claim, "This is unfair."
'Right now, I'm boldly voicing my convictions.'
And not just quietly profiting our company—we were getting extra pay for the others too.
"Though we're lowly mercenaries, our dedication deserves recompense. Don't you agree?"
Estelle nodded at my words.
"You're right. And as you told Sir Schmitz, ignoring this flawed reward allocation disrespects the imperial honor. In fact, I've already sent a letter to His Majesty requesting corrections."
Finishing, the Margrave handed me a letter with an impressive red seal.
"This is part of the letter to His Majesty. Read it later, but it notes that all companies except the White Beard Mercenary Corps had their achievements undervalued by at least 20%."
20% undervaluation corrected upward meant...
Even by simple math, the bounty for everyone not in our White Beard company would rise at least 20%, right?
Hearing that, the other companies' captains and mercenaries hugged and cheered.
They held back curses in the Margrave's presence, but it was clear they'd erupt in rough joy once he left.
"So I'm sorry, but His Majesty—no, in this case, the Supreme Commander—will reply on the rewards. Expect about a fortnight. Can you stay here until then? We'll cover food and basic upkeep."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Of course, of course. As expected, His Imperial Majesty and the Commander are paragons of fairness. Waiting a mere fortnight? Complaining would make one a fool."
"I wanted to see Baron Pappenheim punished too—honor to stay."
"Long live His Majesty! Long live Margrave Estelle!"
Estelle gave a wry smile and waved them off.
"I stake my name: your rewards will be 20% above original. Now withdraw. But Martin Meyer of the White Beard Mercenary Corps, stay behind."
Everyone eyed curiously at the Margrave remembering a mere mercenary's name, but soon lost interest.
Dalton, whistling behind, kindly informed us all why.
"This expedition earned a year's budget—add 20%, that's two and a half more months? I'm thrilled already."
Once everyone left, Margrave Estelle placed both hands on my shoulders and asked.
"Beyond striking for Pappenheim's head, you've swayed other companies' opinions, etching 'Martin Meyer of the White Beard Mercenary Corps' into their memories. I have a very important proposal for you."
"Please speak."
Estelle fixed me with a smile more sinister than a murderer's.
"Pappenheim dies soon. His territory naturally reverts to my direct control. That creates a 'lordless barony.'
As Estelle said, a vassal's land without heirs returns to their liege.
Like in Korea, vast fortunes without heirs go to the 'state.'
"Ahem, long preamble. Join as a high-tier knight under me first. Stack decent achievements over 2-3 years, and I'll grant you Pappenheim's barony. Women, money, honor—whatever you want, ask me. I'll give generously. How's that? Can't get more generous."
I nodded unconsciously.
I'd proven Martin Meyer's value, but not enough yet for a barony as scouting bait.
Estelle was declaring he'd make me a baron after 2-3 years as high knight, achievements or not.
An unimaginable offer for me now.
It was tempting as hell.
No—I briefly pictured myself called 'Baron' and Karin 'Baroness'...
'But rationally, I can raise my value way higher later.'
That thought let me stay cool despite ten grand lottery tickets dangling before me.
"I deeply appreciate the Margrave's offer, but I can't accept."
Margrave Estelle sighed deeply at my words.
"Turning down a barony? I heard you want power, wealth, honor, harem like other nobles. Baron gets you all."
Even a weak barony commanded taxes and labor from around 10,000 households.
And 'labor' included snapping fingers to make serf girls maids—or concubines.
Rejecting this? Insane.
"A huge upheaval's coming soon. Play it right, count's no dream. Hell, I'll become a grand duke this time. My vassals will rise high, basking in glory, honor, riches for generations."
Estelle was worth serving in spades...
'But taking a title before fully proving my value isn't smart.'
Sticking under him now meant owing him big.
Endure a bit, and I'd miss higher chances later, tied to Estelle.
'He knows that.'
With genuine gratitude, I knelt and bowed in apology.
"Forgive me, but I don't think my value's there yet. Withdraw the offer. Instead, propose again when I can fully demonstrate my abilities."
Estelle sighed like he truly regretted it.
"......Can't hold you—such a shame. Fine, just don't oppose me."
"Yes, Margrave."
Even without saying, I wouldn't antagonize him.
Insanely talent-hungry, quick-witted, and with character making Sword Master Baron Ainz forgo promotion.
No antagonizing this guy lightly.
"Then I'll withdraw."
After Martin Meyer left, Margrave Estelle stared at the spot and laughed heartily.
"They say troubled times birth heroes—world gets chaotic, and madmen like him appear."
He'd offered his best terms, yet rejected.
Yet Martin Meyer upheld his pride to the end.
Estelle didn't dislike that Martin; he still felt fondness.
Soon, Martin would soar beyond Dalton's fence wildly.
And by showing favor, Estelle got a 'future star on his side' promise, virtually free.
Plus, thanks largely to Martin, he'd rise from margrave to marquis maybe, gain vast lands.
Even setting that aside, he'd benefited hugely from Martin.
So Estelle couldn't hate him unless antagonized or screwed over.
Still, bitterness lingered...
"......Gotta scout talent-hoarding promising princes fast."
He resolved to prepare for the civil war in a few years.