Chapter 132
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Chapter 2, Conclusion. (1)
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Allen had the sturdy, massive oak barrels packed tightly onto several wagons before departing the central city of Varnamo at the crack of dawn, as snowflakes swirled through the air. Of course, before leaving, he didn't forget to share a heartfelt embrace with Mercenary Leader Ingmar, bonding in camaraderie.
"I'll definitely visit Vermandua next time. Let's meet again then and drink through the night...!"
Of course, how much they'd actually drink was anyone's guess, but Allen promised they would anyway before parting ways. The Ingmar Mercenary Corps even saw them off at the outer city gates.
The North was cold, but the Northerners' warmth was genuine. Even if their relationship had started with money, their loyalty was real. Just as Mercenary Leader Viola had said...
"They said the North is full of women as white and pretty as snow... What a load of crap!"
The hairy Kis, who had been eagerly scouting local beauties while roaming the continent lately, was thoroughly deflated by the empty rumors of Northern beauties. They hadn't stayed long enough in other cities to check properly, but at least in central Varnamo, there were no such stunners.
"I heard the daughter of Raiga, one of the North's Top 10, is super pretty... It'd be nice to catch a glimpse of her face."
The youngest, Kori—who had struck out alongside Kis—brought up a rumor he'd heard somewhere.
"Didn't you see her, Leader? All the Top 10 gathered in the capital last time."
The hairy one asked Allen to confirm if Raiga's daughter was really that beautiful. At the same time, the mercenaries' eager gazes turned to their leader. Regardless of their interest in that particular woman, talk of beauties was a universal topic. ...Especially for the two women in complicated relationships with Allen; they couldn't help being sensitive to the word "beauty."
Of course, Allen had only glimpsed the face of Top 10 Leader Raiga herself and not her daughter, so he didn't know what she looked like in person. But graphically speaking, she was stunning. The Guild Master's description of her as the North's signature beauty had rung in his ears painfully.
Especially since she was famed as a marksman who never missed, and a devout believer to boot. Thanks to that, she got along well with the Blind Saint. The Guild Master even featured compatibility between allies, with synergies between the devout.
"They say she's an incredible beauty. I haven't seen her myself, though."
"Won't we get a chance to see her next time?"
"Who knows. If it's Top 10 level, maybe."
The leader meant it sincerely, but the mercenaries took it as a joke.
It just showed the vast gap between the Top 10's prestige and theirs. ...Of course, that didn't hurt Allen's feelings at all. If anything, it fueled his resolve to work harder.
As they chatted idly, the sky began to lighten bit by bit. But the sun soon ducked behind thick clouds spewing snow.
Allen gazed quietly at the world blanketed in white. ...He probably wouldn't see snow like this for a while after leaving.
Central Varnamo shrank to a dot behind them, then vanished from sight entirely.
With that, their Northern journey came to an end.
The wagons, loaded heavy with liquor barrels, slowed Allen's group to a crawl compared to their usual pace. A journey that should have taken a month dragged on for a month and a half.
Moreover, from afar, they looked like easy prey overloaded with goods, guarded by just the Allen Mercenary Corps. Bandits targeted them more than usual. Attacks that averaged once or twice became five on the return trip.
Even the worst, the Martollo Bandits, used summoned beasts from their mage's magic in ambushes. The Allen Mercenary Corps clashed with those tamed monsters twice, just as the rumors described.
Mages were no longer mysterious figures shrouded in veils. They were seen as troublemakers stirring up problems everywhere.
At any rate, after the long haul, the Allen Mercenary Corps finally returned safely to Vermandua. Allen grabbed one barrel as a gift and went to see Mercenary Leader Viola, who had brokered the job.
She still exuded that proud elegance after months apart.
"How was the North?"
"Got my fill of snow-viewing."
"Did you complete the job safely?"
"Yes. Without a hitch."
The Allen Mercenary Corps was growing by leaps and bounds. Viola was inwardly thrilled but also a bit worried he might suddenly leave her side. No need to look far—Elizabeth's temptations were already a strong pull. ...He seemed steadfast for now, but who knew with people?
"As you said, Leader, the North's loyalty is solid."
"Business-wise, they can be slow sometimes, but they rarely stab you in the back."
"Exactly."
The conversation paused briefly. Viola unclenched her hands, tapped the desk lightly with her fingers, then continued.
"...How about dinner tomorrow evening?"
"Sounds good. I'll be there."
"Alright. ...You've worked hard. You must be exhausted—go rest."
"Yes, see you tomorrow, Leader."
Allen, now fully a sturdy man with no trace of boyish youth left, gave Viola a gentle smile and withdrew.
The hard-won Northern liquor sold like hotcakes. Prices doubled or tripled overnight. Watching the money box fill up, Allen felt all his past hardships melt away like spring snow.
He seriously considered starting a liquor business later. There were trading companies in Vermandua, but supply was low for the population. Secure trade routes, and it could be lucrative. With Ingmar's help, he'd get it cheap too.
...But setting up his own caravan was still distant. It'd require a solid second unit for the mercenary corps at minimum.
Anyway, as he earned money and rested leisurely in Vermandua...
An urgent dispatch arrived from the East.
- The Dagon Mercenary Corps has disbanded—!
News that the East's top dogs, who dared touch Duke Belver's house and their alliance, had been shattered. Allen had seen it coming, so no surprise. Just a sense of "it's finally here."
With that, Chapter 2 truly ended.
The East, long ravaged by war, jumped at the duke's ceasefire declaration, all eager for peace.
The Eastern cities were financially tapped out anyway. They'd stopped fighting months ago; it was just pride keeping them from a truce.
Thus, jobless mercenaries and corps scattered across the continent, arming it up and kicking off Chapter 3.
The flood of freed-up mercenaries was an opportunity for Allen too. He couldn't hire masses without steady income for a full second unit, but two or three more? Manageable.
...And he had about two months until then.
Allen planned to focus on business. Including liquor investments and profits, he had around 4,000 gold spare.
Starting new ventures was risky; expanding the inn business made sense. For future liquor sales, more inn outlets meant more profit.
So, he bought an inn building not far from his current shop-cum-hideout, which was on the market.
Not as cheap as last time—about 2,500 gold. Competition drove the price above market. Still, too good to pass up despite the slight loss.
Around then, old hound Kallisman requested a private audience. He wanted to visit his family after too long apart.
"Of course. Go ahead."
Allen approved readily. No urgent jobs, and it was good management to allow it.
Kallisman bowed repeatedly in thanks and left at dawn the next day. Allen felt a bit empty without his steadfast guardian at his side.
......And a month passed like flowing water.