Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Recon Mission with Karin (3)
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To be honest, the real answer was that I'd been a hardcore veteran of this game up until a month and a few days ago...
But in this world, there's no such thing as games, let alone computers or TVs. If I said something like that, I'd just end up looking like the weird one.
So in situations like this, it was best to spin a tale based on Martin Meyer's memories of his life.
"Didn't I tell you before? I was stuck out in some rural backwater, inherited a knight's title, and figured scraping by in poverty wasn't for me. I wanted to start from the bottom as a mercenary and climb my way up big. That's why I ran off."
The first time we met, Karin hadn't paid me much mind and just let my words slide past her ears.
But now, she was looking me straight in the eyes, listening intently to every word. That alone showed how much our relationship had progressed.
Karin let out a sigh, as if she found it absurd, and spoke.
"I've been with the White Beard Mercenary Corps for three years, and adding in my time hopping between other companies, that's five years as a mercenary. I've seen plenty of young noble brats like you born into knight families."
Being born into a knight family put you pretty high up in this world's social hierarchy. So it might seem odd for guys like that to become mercenaries...
But knighthood was like being a specialized corporate drone back in Korea—if you couldn't land a spot in one of the top families, you were just an overqualified bum.
Plus, in this game's world, without backing from status, bloodlines, or connections, even the most talented couldn't easily get commissioned into another house's knights.
Cases like mine—getting booted out at adulthood with armor, a weapon, and maybe a horse if you were lucky—weren't all that rare.
Karin gazed at me with eyes reminiscing about the old days and continued.
"Well, you were more useful in a fight than most rookies. Probably because you were raised learning how to kill with a sword. The serf-born newbies we call meat shields from the backlines? Most of them are only good for that role on the battlefield... You know they usually start rookies on the veteran mercenaries' tails, right?"
"Yeah, Captain Dalton told me the same. He said other companies start you as a veteran and pay more, so he couldn't understand why I'd insist on joining as a rookie."
At that, Karin gave a faint smile and replied.
"I thought the same when I first saw you. Figured you were nuts. Anyway. These noble brats show up wearing a 'veteran mercenary' hat out of nowhere. They strut in, boss the other mercs around like trash, or charge into battle clueless, pulling stupid stunts that get good men killed. Sure, every once in a while, you get a monster like Captain Dalton or the lieutenant who shines... But those types quickly move to bigger companies or leverage their rep into a knight spot elsewhere."
"I see."
"I've never had a chance to talk to one of these upward-climbing noble types before. Honestly, I've always wanted to ask. Just how the hell did you end up like this?"
Hearing that, I saw my chance to close the psychological gap between us.
An opportunity to take a step toward my goal? No room for hesitation like some idiot...
I'd go bold, but with enough sincerity to sell it.
With that in mind, I wove a story blending my game experiences with Martin Meyer's memories.
"I don't know what you'll think, Senior Karin, but some folks say coasting on a knight's title is a stable life. From my experience, though, it's subtly soul-crushing."
Karin perked up her ears at my words.
"You might think this sounds ungrateful. Three square meals a day, no worries, and if you feel like it, all the meat you can eat."
Even in the poor Meyer knight family, we ate pig, cow, chicken, or even deer and venison more often than you'd think compared to modern times—as long as we didn't get picky.
Plus, the elderly serf woman working the house baked bread daily and handled cleaning, so it wasn't all bad.
"But when I went to serve at Baron Carlisle's manor, I realized I was just bottom rung. Bowing my head to young masters younger than me was standard, and they spat on my bloodline like it was trash. Before I bolted, they told me—since I was single and of marriageable age—to wed a 40-year-old widow from a mid-tier knight family under the baron."
If they'd said marry some serf girl, I might've deluded myself for 0.2 seconds that isekai reincarnation wasn't so bad...
But among nobles, getting dumped with a bomb like that because your status was 'low'—that utter disrespect drove me insane.
And under a mere baron, unless you were some prodigy, a 'lowly' guy like me never even got a shot at proving himself.
The moment I realized there was no chance to prove my worth and change my fate, I decided to run... Looking back, it was the right call.
Karin nodded in empathy and said,
"That must've been rough."
"Don't even get me started, Senior. The fact I didn't crack that mid-tier knight's skull for arranging that marriage is a miracle."
Karin let out a small 'pfft' of laughter, finding my story a bit funny.
"So I decided if life's gonna suck that bad, I'd start as a mercenary and climb up. Once I realized there was zero upside to being some rural knight, I cornered a retired merc near the baron's castle and picked his brain on mercenary life and how to make it."
The retired merc bit was a lie, but it explained how a comfortably raised knight kid like me adapted so fast.
Karin nodded, finally piecing it together.
"So that's why you told Captain Dalton you'd start from the bottom."
"I would've loved starting as a veteran, but I'd heard guys who strut about their knight birth end up crashing hard. Thanks to that, I'm getting along with you, Senior Karin, and the squad under Squad Leader Pior, right?"
"Fair point. You're sharp, Martin."
With that opening, I debated whether to probe into Karin's past.
She'd opened up to me—should I hear her life story and get even closer, or hold off for later...
I'd just made my choice and was about to speak when—
Karin covered her mouth with one hand, yawned, then slapped it shut in surprise, her face flushing red.
"I wanna hear more, but after staying up all night scouting, I'm fighting sleep. I'm heading in to crash. No battles or anything today, so you should too."
She timed her exit perfectly as I was about to ask about her past.
She was definitely interested in me, Martin Meyer, but not ready to share private stuff like her history.
"Damn, felt like we were building some real momentum. Still a long road ahead, shit. But I'm the only one in the squad swapping personal stories with Karin, so I'll call today a win."
I muttered that, but a whistle slipped out anyway.
Easy come, easy go—but hard-won sticks around, always feeling fresh, right?
And with a beauty like her, I had the confidence to savor every step to pulling her into my arms.
"Keep solidifying my position bit by bit, prove my skills, and the next chance will come."
Then I headed to my tent and bedded down.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Three days later, Captain Dalton decided we had to settle things before the enemy's reinforcements arrived. He committed full force to clash with the Tristan Mercenary Corps.
That dragged our squad into a brutal fight like the first day's, holding formation until it devolved into a melee...
"Die, you filthy Tristan merc bastard!"
Like last time, I swung my sword to cut down foes.
As I kept up the same performance, that bastard Schmitz—who'd beaten me before—appeared in the distance. He pointed his twin blades at me and shouted,
"Not escaping this time, you milk-drinking pup! This old man's gonna take your head. Wanna prove you're a man? Come at me!"
For a split second, last time's ass-kicking made me consider backing off. But retreating here would relegate me to generic merc trash scattered everywhere.
Plus, after baring my manly ambitions to Karin, I couldn't tuck tail and flee at some taunt.
"Fine by me, you overgrown boar-faced lump! I'll roast you whole!"