Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: The Banquet, and the Duel (1)
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I shouted that I'd captured the viscount alive, and the regular soldiers under Viscount Visi all turned to stare at me in unison.
"You filthy, lowly mercenary scum! How dare you lay hands on our viscount!"
"Get your hands—dirtier than a pig's trotter—off him!"
"Are you alright, my lord? Gilbert will come save you right away!"
Even though I'd nabbed their viscount, these idiots couldn't get their heads straight and were just flailing around uselessly.
Let's see if you lot drop your weapons after this.
I lightly sliced Viscount Visi's neck with my dagger, drawing a bit of blood.
At that, flames shot from the eyes of those Montmartre snails, and the grinding of their teeth rang clearly in my ears.
Viscount Visi, pinned beneath me, didn't lose his spirit and bellowed loudly.
"You lowly wretch! Release me at once! A base mercenary like you dares wound a noble aristocrat with those filthy hands? You think you'll survive this?!"
Our viscount here must have been born noble and raised delicately, never beaten half to death or faced real mortal danger.
Otherwise, with his life on the line, he couldn't possibly mouth off like this.
Ha, do I have to drill some manners into him mercenary-style too?
Having made up my mind, I whispered quietly into the viscount's ear.
"If you don't want a hole punched through your neck, tell your men to drop their weapons and shut up. Otherwise, this lowly scum might do something crazy without thinking twice."
"A-alright."
"Glad you catch on quick, Viscount."
The viscount ground his teeth, then spoke in as dignified a voice as he could muster.
"The House of Viscount Visi surrenders!"
At those words, his house's soldiers let out sighs that could sink the earth, tossing their weapons aside.
"Fuck. How the hell did we, the viscount's elite regulars, lose to those four-legged beast mercenaries from Reinpaltz?"
"For the viscount to get captured by that sausage bastard... this has to be a dream."
"Lord Deus, why have you forsaken us?"
Our mercenary corps soldiers hurriedly gathered up the weapons they'd discarded, steel armor from the corpses—anything valuable.
"Sell this for cash, save up cash for pussy. That's sex right there."
My platoon's Baker guy seemed to have learned something amid all this.
"This armor's pretty decent, huh?"
He said that while slyly pocketing a gold ring from it.
'Yeah, just don't let the others catch you.'
Dalton was about to say something when the imperial army we belonged to started blowing victory horns.
At the sound, the mercenaries who'd been fighting alongside the Montmartre snails despaired and dropped their weapons.
"Fuck, I was hoping to make bank this war. What a shitshow."
"Damn, we're screwed. We fought those Montmartre bastards this long, so let's just squeeze our pay and bail."
"We lost like this? For real?"
They'd been our enemies just moments ago, so I was about to fire some aura and killing intent their way to keep them in check.
But Dalton lightly tapped my shoulder.
"Mercenaries kill each other like mad during war, but once it's over, no need to keep brawling and getting bad blood."
I nodded at that.
Truth be told, we're not fighting out of personal hate—our employers are just different.
We might end up allies on another battlefield someday, so no point grabbing each other by the collar after the war's done.
"Right."
Soon enough, the guys we'd just been slugging it out with started approaching our side.
"You won fair and square, so fuck it, just let us go. These Montmartre weaklings got wrecked, we're already on the brink of bankruptcy. If you strip our weapons too, we'll all starve."
Even without taking their weapons, we'd captured the viscount—their walking wallet—and their knights as prisoners.
A massive payday was coming, nothing to envy about a lottery jackpot.
So no need to loot the mercenaries' gear; better to spread rumors of our generosity.
"Captain Dalton, no need to take their weapons too, right? Just let 'em go?"
"That was the plan from the start. No point making enemies here."
Dalton jerked his thumb back.
"Stow your weapons and fuck off. Touch one of ours, and I'll gut you all and braid your intestines into rope. Got it?"
The mercenary captain opposite us bowed his head.
"Thanks. We're the Black Whale Mercenary Corps. If we fight as allies in some war someday, drinks on me."
"Cut the bullshit and scram."
"Still, if we meet again, I'll repay the favor."
And just like that, the Black Whale Mercenary Corps passed through our lines without issue.
Dalton slammed my back hard—filthy strong—and asked.
"Oi, Martin you bastard. You didn't awaken as an Expert, did you?"
"No. But how'd you know?"
"When you awaken aura and break the Expert wall, the quality of aura flowing through your body changes suddenly, boosting stamina and strength massively. Body can't handle it, you collapse. But you're fine."
In the game too, Experts collapsed upon awakening—guess it shows up like this here.
"Fuck, because of you I lost that bet with the other platoon leaders. What're you gonna do about it?"
"Forgive me since I caught Viscount Visi for us."
This time he smacked the back of my head hard.
"If you hadn't caught the viscount, I wouldn't be joking around like this, punk. I'd be demanding payout for the bet."
As I opened my mouth to reply, Dalton waved it off.
"Reinpaltz Empire's throwing a huge feast tomorrow anyway, so don't waste cash. Let's head back—we won."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next day, Reinpaltz Imperial Army camp.
Just as Dalton said, the Reinpaltz Empire threw a massive banquet for all soldiers and mercenaries who'd fought in the war.
Our White Beard Mercenary Corps didn't snag the enemy commander-in-chief or anything that big, but thanks to capturing the viscount...
"Ha, fuck. These empire bastards are so stingy. We're all mercenaries and nobles who fought the war together, but they seat regulars by their lord's rank and mercenaries by merits and fame."
Platoon Leader Walter fumed, and someone nearby stepped in to calm him.
"If you're pissed, recruit more Experts, mid-to-high-tier mages, beef up the corps with elites, build fame. No other way."
"You think I don't know that?"
"Come on, Platoon Leader. We're treated pretty well, aren't we? Knights rarely get this fine grape wine, fancy dishes. Even rare monster meat like wild boar up here."
Walter snorted at that.
"If they'd tried feeding us beef after we nabbed a viscount, I'd have flipped the table. For real."
Monster meat grades vary by beast, but 'wild boar' was fairly common yet three times pricier than prime beef—a luxury.
And Platoon Leader Walter gave me an eye signal.
"I only caught the viscount because everyone in our corps fought so well. And since we nabbed him and shone this time, next'll be even better. Look over there too—the Reinpaltz knights are chatting up Captain Dalton, persuading him or whatever."
Too far to hear clearly, but the captain looked pleased.
Probably just praising our feats and suggesting we keep good ties going forward.
I headed over to Karin.
"Senior Karin, switching bows really upped your game—insane accuracy. When you nailed that Zakri bastard's neck, grazing his ear? Blew my mind."
Karin's lips quirked up at my words, ears twitching.
"My skills were always good. Not the bow."
"Anyway, war's over—gonna buy that meal you promised? Just us two. You know."
I mimed drinking.
A man and woman drinking alone? That's flirting territory...
Karin blushed beet red, grinning wide.
"Got it. When we get back, wherever you want, just us. But don't get any weird ideas."
Head down, face flushed, fingers fidgeting...
Looks like Karin gets weird ideas too.
Still, I played the gentleman, feigning ignorance coolly.
"Yes, Senior. This time, a proper round on you?"
As I tried building history beyond flirting...
Some knight who screamed money waltzed over to us.
He cupped Karin's chin, smirking with sleazy eyes.
"Elf, what a stunning beauty. What's your name?"
......Ha, fuck. This clueless asshole. Why barge in now and strut?
Makes me wanna kill him.