Chapter 129
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: 29. Northern Region. (4)
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“...Did you just say succubus?”
“Yes. The kind that live by sucking the vital energy from human males. I suspect your demonic illness derives from a subordinate of those succubi.”
Heh heh. Mercenary Leader Ingmar let out a somewhat hollow laugh. To think that this horrific agony of several months had been caused by mere underlings of succubi.
“However, succubi are still demons. We must never underestimate them. Moreover, that underling has grown strong by feeding on your energy, so it's hard to gauge just how powerful it's become.”
“...I see.”
Allen smiled faintly and rubbed his palms together lightly, like a sly merchant.
“Well then, shall we talk price now?”
“How much do you want?”
When Ingmar asked, Allen cupped his hands under his chin and continued.
“Do you know of the mid-sized city of Margas?”
“Not really. Where is it?”
“It's a city north of the capital, ruled by Count Via. ...I cured that very count's daughter's demonic illness.”
“I've heard about that.”
Aidar had mentioned that the 10th-ranked powerhouse, Mercenary Leader Viola, had said as much, so it had to be the unvarnished truth.
Allen held up his hand, folding his thumb and spreading the remaining four fingers.
“The amount I received there was exactly four thousand gold coins.”
────!!!
It was an amount that would stun even the tiger of the north upon hearing it. For the already impoverished northerners, not just a thousand gold coins, but a full four thousand!
“......Is that true?”
“Yes, I stake my honor on it.”
With a northerner's deadly serious pledge of honor on the line, the other man accepted it as truth.
Moreover, Allen was vouched for by none other than a 10th-ranked mercenary leader. Spreading lies could tarnish not only that leader's reputation but also House Via's honor. If it were false, he'd deserve the harshest punishment without complaint.
Four thousand gold coins.
It was an amount beyond despair—into the realm of the inconceivable. Even if Ingmar scraped together every last coin in the north, he'd barely manage half that.
“...However!”
Of course, Allen knew the north's situation and had no intention of blindly demanding four thousand.
But simply offering to halve it right away as a generous gesture wouldn't have much impact. He needed to stoke the other's gratitude as much as possible. That way, he could squeeze something extra out of him—like a succubus draining a man's essence.
Allen slammed his fist lightly on the table with a serious expression and declared solemnly.
“I, Mercenary Leader Allen...! Am in awe of Mercenary Leader Ingmar's spirit and courage. How could I, of all people, demand the full four thousand like some petty merchant from such a man!”
“......Ahem. It's a bit embarrassing to say it myself, but they call me the tiger of the north.”
“As expected!”
Being praised like this by a mercenary leader respected in his own right in Vermandua, Ingmar couldn't hide his pleasure.
“If it had been anyone but Mercenary Leader Ingmar, they'd have died long ago from the demonic illness. I'm truly impressed by your mental fortitude.”
“Well, it was a bit grueling, but nothing too overwhelming.”
“Indeed, there's a reason they call you the tiger of the north.”
“Heh heh heh.”
High on the thrill of northern honor, Mercenary Leader Ingmar ultimately accepted the offer of two thousand gold coins without haggling a single coin further.
“Very well. You've already cut it in half from four thousand— it wouldn't be polite for me to bargain more. ...Fine, let's do it!”
“I've never met anyone as magnanimous as Mercenary Leader Ingmar! To think such a great man existed in the north!”
The two men laughed heartily and shook hands firmly.
“I hope we can maintain this good relationship going forward.”
“Of course, I'd like that.”
And with that, the negotiation concluded in the blink of an eye with mutual agreement. The deputy leader, upon hearing the massive treatment fee, was shocked enough to nearly faint, but the leader insisted to the end that northern honor couldn't be measured in money. ...Honestly, for curing what was called an incurable demonic illness, it was only right to pay that much.
And so, the Allen Mercenary Corps prepared to get to work in earnest.
···
The Allen Mercenary Corps finished a hearty dinner. The sun, which had been dipping low and painting a beautiful sunset, sank behind the mountain ridges, and outside was soon engulfed in pitch-black darkness. On the quiet night streets, swirling snow began to pile up bit by bit on the ground.
Allen, who had been waiting in the room with the Blind Saintess, confirmed that it was completely dark outside the window and rose from his seat.
“Sister, let's go.”
“Yes, Leader.”
Before leaving the room, she clasped her hands together and offered a prayer to the Holy Spirit.
The man and woman walked down the chilly corridor thick with cold air and arrived at Mercenary Leader Ingmar's bedroom. When Allen lightly knocked twice, the door slid open smoothly. Greeting them was Deputy Leader Andelson.
“We've been waiting.”
Mercenary Leader Ingmar, propped up in bed with only his upper body raised at an angle, welcomed them.
“Forgive me for receiving you like this.”
“Of course. Pretend we're not here and sleep easy. ...We'll handle the rest.”
Even though Allen was a money-grubbing sort, he always gave his all on a job he'd taken. That was the true mercenary business.
“Understood. Then I'll leave it to you.”
With the aid of some medicine, Mercenary Leader Ingmar's eyes were already heavy with sleep. He lay down flat on the fluffy bed, exhaled a languid breath, closed his eyes, breathed through his nose a few times, and soon his breathing evened out steadily.
From then on, the three minimized their voices and communicated only with glances.
They waited a bit longer until Mercenary Leader Ingmar was in deep sleep. When Allen judged enough time had passed, he looked at the Blind Saintess and lightly tapped her arm. At the same moment, Odd Eyes nodded slightly and removed her eyepatch.
—!
And finally, the black thread revealed itself.
The black thread, precisely emerging from Mercenary Leader Ingmar's forehead, stretched off somewhere.
Confirming this, the Blind Saintess nodded vigorously at Mercenary Leader Allen, as if his prediction had hit the mark.
Nailed it—
Allen inwardly rejoiced that it was indeed the work of a succubus, his prediction confirmed, then nodded for them to move out immediately.
As the three quietly exited the bedroom, two members of the Ingmar Mercenary Corps who had been waiting at the end of the corridor approached. The deputy leader said to them,
“Guard the Leader. Quietly. Make sure he doesn't wake.”
“Yes!”
The three headed straight down to the first-floor hall. There, the fully armed Allen Mercenary Corps and Ingmar Mercenary Corps were waiting for them.
“We're marching out.”
With that one word, their fate for the night was sealed.
A war with the beast—.
The two mercenary corps exited the hideout and formed ranks. The Blind Saintess took the lead, tracking the black thread, with the two corps following closely behind.
Crunch, crunch. Each step on the thinly snow-covered ground produced a quiet crunch of snow compacting underfoot. The hoods, touched by the breath fogging from their mouths with every exhale, were already coated in white frost.
Elena, the sole mage in both mercenary corps, conjured a brightly glowing mana orb to light their way. ...At a time like this, a learned mage proved more useful than brutish swordsmen.
They continued down the pitch-black, silent main streets of the city. If only it were a bit brighter, it would feel like walking through the spirit world.
Then, the Blind Saintess, who had been following the black thread, called out to Allen.
“......Leader, I have a report.”
“Speak.”
“It's very faint compared to what we're following, but there are a ton of threads branching off midway in other directions. ......Like, rootlets.”
It seemed the beast's machinations weren't limited to the Ingmar Mercenary Corps' hideout.
“...Got it. Keep going.”
This could potentially escalate to a city-wide crisis. ...It was best to deal with the beast before it grew any larger.
The mercenary group, which had paused briefly, resumed marching. But what was strange was the direction the Blind Saintess was heading.
“......This is toward the inner castle......”
Allen overheard the deputy's mumble. As he said, the Blind Saintess was heading toward the inner castle.
......No way......
But as the proverb goes, even “no way” can bite you, and soon the inner castle walls loomed right before them. The suspicion turned to certainty.
“Odd Eyes, inside?”
“......Yes. It leads into the inner castle.”
Fuck.
At that moment, Allen realized this was no longer something he could handle on his own. Entering the inner castle meant getting entangled with the count's house, like it or not.
“Leader, what do we do?”
No matter how renowned the Ingmar Mercenary Corps was in the north's mercenary scene, that didn't mean they could rampage freely in the city. The true master of the city was the count's house.
...However, Allen couldn't back down now. Success or failure, he had to try.
“......We clash head-on.”
“.........Pardon?”
Mercenary Leader Allen declared solemnly.
“I'll petition His Excellency the Count directly. This concerns the rise and fall of the city right now, happening inside there!”
Two thousand gold coins were on the line.
Not even the count's grandfather could easily break Allen's resolve.