Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Fox Magical Girl, Lucia (2)
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When Sunday arrived in Zaltzheim, Mercenary Captain Dalton rented out an entire tavern for the whole White Beard Mercenary Corps, myself included.
The tavern we'd taken over wholesale had several whole pigs roasting on charcoal grills. Everyone joined in—except for the few who'd opted to enjoy their day off elsewhere—devouring booze and meat like there was no tomorrow.
"The cheapskate tightwad Captain Dalton's footing the bill for everything! Fuck, let's eat it all up!"
"Captain Dalton, you're fucking awesome. Whole pig roast with beer? You're one generous bastard. You know I respect the hell out of you, right, Captain?"
"Throw some more cash at these underlings so we can stuff ourselves proper. You might not know it, but I like pigs and all, but I love beef even more. Grill up some cows nice and hearty like a real man, pass around the wine, and you'll live to a ripe old age, no doubt!"
While the veteran mercenaries worked their wiles on Dalton to squeeze out pricier grub, Karin turned to me and asked,
"Squad Leader Martin, do you know why we're doing all this here?"
"No clue, Senior Karin."
When I answered half-jokingly, Karin flashed a playful smile.
"And yeah, I'm a squad leader and all, but in private, just talk casually. You've got way less seniority than me anyway, right?"
If I had to compare my relationship with Karin, it'd be like a green lieutenant with no time in grade and a seasoned master sergeant platoon sergeant.
Point is, to run this squad right, my own skills matter, but I desperately need her help too, with all that experience she's piled up.
Of course, beyond that, if I want to get personally close to her, keeping things relaxed and easygoing in chats like this—without the formal bullshit—
would help a ton in turning her into my woman down the line... Nah, honestly, that's the main goal.
Karin smiled, either knowing or not, and replied,
"If that's what Martin wants. Then let me ask again. Why's our captain renting out this backwater dive and playing the big spender with booze and snacks?"
"What else? He's recruiting fresh meat shields like the ones I signed up with last war—guys in the same shitty boat."
Karin nodded in agreement with my words.
"Spot on. Mercenary work pays big, sure. But no one with a real job—or hell, even a serf with a scrap of land to till—would risk their neck doing this shit."
Just like she said, a good chunk of our mercenary corps were guys who'd scraped by in the city as day laborers after inheriting no farmland, or petty crooks like pickpockets living that gutter-rat gutter life.
Then they jump into mercenary work: risky as hell, but the pay's decent enough to solve food, clothes, and shelter. Do it right, and you pocket some real savings.
Those savings go toward buying land and a house after mustering out, settling down.
But who the fuck would pick a life of wandering and fighting for your life every damn time, if they've got something stable?
Only desperate bastards with nothing but their hides to sell, or lunatics like me obsessed with climbing the ranks.
"I get that much, Senior. Anyway, aren't those guys due any minute now?"
Right then, the tavern door swung open, and in shuffled about ten guys—the same fresh meat shields I'd started with, back when we were the newbies getting called that.
"Uh, really? We can eat all this? No strings attached?"
Vice Captain Johan lightly smacked the guy's back and laughed.
"Not no strings. Us big brothers saved up some coin from kicking ass hard, but no one's around to hear our war stories. So sit your asses down and listen first."
"That's really all?"
Johan eyed them greedily and said,
"You dumb fucks, real men like us don't go back on our word. Asshole. We'll slot you into some open spots, so sit and have a drink."
Anyone with half a brain would think, "Why the fuck are these guys feeding us free prime meat and beer?" and get suspicious...
But the idiots in front of me? Never had a proper education, dumb as rocks. Grew up in some village, got booted at adulthood with no land inheritance, hit the city, and lived hand-to-mouth with no hope.
So yeah, free booze and meat? They'll gorge till they burst, scam or no scam.
About then, Captain Dalton showed up herding a gaggle of dimwits milling around post-church mass like he was some shepherd.
"They really buyin' drinks and meat even if we don't join up?"
"Fuck it, we're bustin' our asses for less than five silvers a month anyway. Might as well go mercenary and live large, right?"
"Shit, you said booze, so pour us a round first!"
Looking at those clowns, Dalton was scraping the barrel this time—dragging in every tom, dick, and harry, idiots and thugs alike—to bulk us up to 200 strong.
Karin gave me a mischievous look.
"Martin, shouldn't you go snag some newbies too? Dawdle and your squad'll be just you and me again next battlefield."
"I'd love to. But I don't see anyone worth pissing off the other squad leaders over. Look at 'em—eyes dull as dead fish."
Most bottom-feeders rolling into mercenary life have no skills, no drive.
Chasing those losers would just make my already shaky position in the corps worse—for me alone.
Still, as squad leader, I needed recruits, so my eyes kept drifting to the newbies.
"Fuck, what a pain. Promotion's great, but why am I the juniormost squad leader stuck with this recruitment bullshit?"
Glancing at the entrance, though, I could tell Dalton was dead serious about making bank this war—building a proper mercenary outfit.
He'd brought in several mages and knights—types we never hired before 'cause they're pricey.
"Martin, looks like Captain Dalton's all in this time."
"Yeah, Senior. Mages and knights together make ten. Money doesn't grow on trees, so he's betting big on this war."
Makes sense. The last war under Baron Tilen was small potatoes—two minor mercenary bands scrapping, like a neighborhood scrimmage.
Count Zaltzheim's war? Lose it, and he forfeits his whole county. He'd be just another penniless noble.
With his house's survival on the line—more than his own life—the scale and intensity would be massive. Mercenary bands joining had to match: big, strong outfits.
In the game original, the White Beard Mercenary Corps shone here, and this meticulous prep explains why.
Quietly impressed, I scanned the mages and knights—and one woman mage grabbed my eyes instantly.
"I saw the posting saying you were recruiting mercenaries here, so..."
A slightly high-pitched, delicate voice. Flowing silver hair, fox ears and tail, blue eyes, chest that screamed for attention like a rocket, mage hat and staff to top it off.
Has to be Lucia—the fox mage girl the protagonist runs with in this game.
Cute as hell, sure, but she grows into one of the world's top five archmages.
'Honestly, those meat shield idiots? Roll 'em enough and most shape up fine—no need to rush grabbing 'em. I can snag leftovers later. But miss Lucia? Fuck no, that's too good to pass up.'
"Senior Karin, hold up—gonna go scoop a mage real quick."
Karin stared, surprised.
"Bit sudden, isn't it?"
Truth is, from the moment I heard we were coming here, I'd planned to recruit her.
As a game vet, I knew who she was and even her inn. While in town, I'd track her down, pitch joining up, and bring her over.
Prime chance to add a silver-haired fox-eared mage beauty to my harem—and an absolute must-have talent for when I strike out solo later.
Whatever it took, I wasn't letting other squad leaders or the protagonist snag her—I'd claim her myself.
Striding up in my plate armor, Lucia glanced around, looking flustered.
"Um, excuse me..."
True to the original—super timid till the protagonist routes her—she showed her fear with perked ears and tail, wide eyes as I closed in.
Damn, got too excited and scared her off?
But her being here means she wants in our corps, so calm down now and...
"Squad Leader Martin Meyer of the White Beard Mercenary Corps. Interested in joining my squad?"
At the sudden pitch, she flicked her tail side to side in fluster.
But she didn't seem totally against it—felt like it'd work out.