Chapter 496
Chapter 496
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 496
Chapter Title: Believers (2)
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The free city of Drakal, located in the central-southern region of the Eion Continent.
This city, home to the Mercenary Guild's headquarters, was truly a small nation built for mercenaries—no exaggeration needed.
Its entire economy and social system revolved around the mercenary industry. Even the city council was elected according to the guild's will, and all foreign diplomacy was squarely focused on that.
And at the pinnacle of it all stood the Mercenary King.
In Drakal, the Mercenary King's power and authority were irreplaceable, a fact that extended even to the Executive Director who handled direct operations right beneath him.
Patrick, the Mercenary Guild's Executive Director—a position tantamount to prime minister of this tiny nation.
Today, as always, the power broker arrived at his office and performed his solemn ritual to mark the start of the day.
It had been over a year of this routine, yet it still filled him with tension every single time.
"...Damn it, why the hell doesn't this world have a single baldness cure?"
With each passing day, the state of his hair in the mirror grew visibly worse—no mere figment of his imagination.
'Magic's supposed to be for times like this, isn't it? What the hell are those damn alchemists doing, slacking off?'
He stopped brushing and vented his pent-up frustration, but nothing changed.
All he could do was acknowledge his own powerlessness and accept the harsh reality.
And truthfully, his anger shouldn't have been directed at his weak hair follicles or the alchemists neglecting their duties.
The root of his stress-induced hair loss lay elsewhere, didn't it?
"Again, again! Where the hell did he go this time! That damn Mercenary King—!"
Halri, the new Mercenary King with his insatiable wanderlust.
This wasn't the first or second time his boss had vanished without a trace, but for Patrick—who always ended up shouldering the blame—it meant living on stomach medicine to soothe his aching gut.
Even if the Mercenary King was mostly symbolic and Patrick held full delegated authority, there were limits.
In this brutal mercenary world where might made right, keeping his connections intact through networking alone required tremendous effort to enforce his orders.
Things rarely went according to plan in such circumstances, forcing him to take responsibility and clean up every mess...
'Those bastards won't utter a peep when he gets back, so why dump it all on me?'
Patrick paused while ruffling his brown hair, then carefully lowered his hand.
He couldn't afford to further torment his already stress-weakened strands.
"...Maybe it's time to head back."
He closed his eyes tightly and let out a small sigh.
In truth, he'd long since gathered enough karma to return anytime he wanted.
'But it's too good an opportunity to pass up. The impending war with the Immortal King could be a massive boon for me as the guild's Executive Director.'
A mercenary's true worth shone on the battlefield.
And if they actually subjugated the real Immortal King... No, even if Mercenary King Halri fell in battle, it wouldn't hurt Patrick.
He could grab everything worth taking and bolt at the first sign of trouble.
'Has it been over fifteen years since I came here? Starting to get sentimental.'
Patrick Brown, an Earthling from Ireland.
His unique skill was Parallel Thinking, which allowed him to split his thoughts into multiple streams.
Used right, it could manifest dozens or hundreds of high-tier spells simultaneously—a tremendous ability.
..."If only I had a bit more talent."
Unfortunately, he had barely a speck of aptitude for magic—pathetic, to the point where it seemed impossible for a human.
Magic was a demanding field even among the arcane arts, requiring vast knowledge and innate compatibility to climb its ranks.
No amount of stat boosts or system corrections could overcome that fundamental limit.
He wasn't confident in combat either, leaving him with the administrative work he'd done back on Earth.
His recognition and rapid promotions to this position all stemmed from his superhuman processing speed via Parallel Thinking.
'...Yeah, let's hang in there a bit longer. This is nothing compared to the hardships I've endured.'
Sure, the stress was brutal, but so were the gains.
Lost in such reflections and reminiscing about the past, Patrick suddenly—
Bang—!
The office door flew open with a deafening crash, as if kicked by an intruder.
"Kahahahat! Long time no see, Patrick!"
"...Lord Halri?"
In the entire Mercenary Guild, only one person would pull something like this.
Halri, the current Mercenary King, who hadn't been in office long.
He'd finally returned from his extended outing.
"Aigoo, broke another door. I just pushed it lightly with my hand. For the Executive Director's office, shouldn't you upgrade to something sturdier? What will people think?"
"We replaced it with solid alloy last time, as you suggested..."
Because of that, not only Patrick's arms but everyone entering the office had been building thicker biceps over time.
Call it daily strength training.
Any weakling who couldn't open this metal door couldn't report to him anyway.
"Huh, so?"
"...I'll scout for a craftsman. There must be a way to make it even tougher."
Drakal, with its abundance of mercenaries, was also packed with top-tier artisans.
Maybe blending techniques from weapon and armor forging could yield a door to satisfy Halri.
...Though Patrick still didn't get why he had to go this far.
"So, where'd you disappear to this time without a word...? Sigh, never mind."
Asking was pointless; Halri never answered anyway.
Having sized up Halri thoroughly by now, Patrick simply rejoiced at his return.
"...Pardon?"
Until Halri dumped new work on him.
"Ah, y'see! I'm the Mercenary King, right?"
"Yes, that's true."
"But lately, it feels like something's missing, y'know? That Hubert Merchant Association's got their chairman's name on all these flashy events. We should do something big like that too!"
"Why would the Mercenary Guild compete with a merchant group we do business with..."
"Hey, hear me out. Our influence across the continent ain't nothing to scoff at, right? If we pull off something huge and seize the initiative, it'd be awesome! Don't you think?"
Patrick squeezed his eyes shut at the incomprehensible pitch.
He swallowed a desperate scream he couldn't voice aloud.
'Why the hell should the Mercenary Guild rival our biggest client?!'
It was basically mobilizing the guild's full might just to boost his personal fame.
And Halri himself had insisted on a low-key inauguration ceremony.
Now this...
"...Yes, sir. I'll draft a plan right away."
"Kahahahat! That's my Patrick. Knew I could count on you. Make it quick!"
But as the perpetual underling, his response was predetermined.
Watching Halri stride away with booming laughter, Patrick once more suppressed the temptation of that resignation letter tucked in his heart.
'Just you wait. Before I quit, I'll land one solid hit.'
Patrick didn't yet realize it.
From the moment he'd been marked as a talented asset, he'd already sunk into an inescapable quagmire.
'Definitely a capable guy. When I head back to Earth, I'll scout him immediately.'
Having offloaded all the work onto his subordinate right after returning, Halri headed to the guild's cafeteria for a storm of a meal after ages.
'Faith doesn't have to take the form of religion. Diana showed a great example, so I should use every method available.'
No reason to let this prime advantage gather dust just because Hubert's side was progressing smoothly.
The more routes to gather divine power, the better.
"Ah! Lord Halri! There you are!"
As he emerged after turning the cafeteria into a wasteland—
Halri ran into an unexpected face.
A woman fluttered toward him like a butterfly and threw her arms around him.
Tanned skin healthy from southern life, brown hair braided in several strands, and obsidian-black eyes gleaming—a beauty.
"Ahh—this perfect muscle... Ehehe!"
"Huh? Misty?"
"...Hah! Ahh! Lord Halri! I've missed you so much!"
It was Misty, the great shaman of the Kalkos Tribal Federation and daughter of the former great chieftain.
She'd come all the way from the south to Drakal, seat of the Mercenary Guild.
"What brings a lady like you here?"
"Oh, come on. Is there anything more important than attending the War King? I finished the tasks you assigned and raced here to report."
"Tasks?"
Halri blinked, then nodded vigorously as it clicked.
Right—he'd tasked her with restoring order to the chaotic south after the upheaval with former chieftain Pantheon and rebuilding systematically.
Separated for so long, he'd completely forgotten.
'Hmm? Wait, isn't this an opportunity?'
He stroked his chin and tilted his head.
The tribal federation had a Hubert branch, but its closed-off nature limited the impact compared to elsewhere.
But as the War King...
"Uhahahat! Yeah, guess it's time to swing by the south again!"
"Ah! Really? Everyone will be thrilled! We all banded together, working hard so we wouldn't disappoint you!"
"Oh? That's surprising. These jobs always attract troublemakers who stir shit up. No such idiots this time?"
"Ah... You mean the ones who ignore orders and act on their own?"
Misty's eyes chilled for an instant at his words.
But the flicker vanished as quickly as it came.
She plastered herself to Halri with a beaming smile and replied brightly.
"There was some noise at first, but it's fine now! After a serious 'chat' with them, everyone got on board."
"Oho? Thought I'd have to crack some heads, but nice surprise."
"Hehe! Can't trouble Lord Halri over something like that."
Halri grinned in satisfaction at her words.
If the cleanup was done, it wouldn't take long.
"Kuhahat! Love it! Gotta reward you, huh?"
"R... Reward?"
Misty flushed as his massive hand ruffled her hair.
She unwittingly swallowed, but Halri was already mulling future plans.
'Yeah, mercenaries and the south ain't bad. Might not match Hubert's scale, but the faith's purity will be higher.'
Not faith born from monetary gain like Hubert's, but trust in the titles of Mercenary King and War King.
That was the asset Halri had built thus far.
"What the hell, I'm in the mood! Meat party all day! Hey, Misty—call your southern crew too! It's all on me! Uhahaha!"
"Ah! Y-yes!"
In high spirits, Halri wrecked five restaurants that day before finally stopping his dojo crawl.
A declaration of the king's return, more effective than any ad.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "An anomaly?"
"Yes. I cross-verified through multiple channels just in case, but it's solid enough to confirm."
In a Heterosis-owned building smack in central Seoul.
Two people conversed in a space shrouded by blackout curtains blocking all sunlight.
"Awakening reports in Korea have spiked over three times the norm lately. The Ability Management Bureau's investigation team is treating it seriously. But it doesn't seem limited to us."
"A global phenomenon?"
"Yes, and that's just the reported cases. Reality's probably worse."
"Hmm."
Heinz 2nd stroked his chin with a grim expression at Jin So-ran's report.
He'd just returned from Outerica on a whim, only to stumble into this unforeseen intel, muddling his thoughts.
'Was planning to focus solely on gathering believers for a while. What's this sudden mess?'
Of course, amassing believers for Heinz 2nd was a cakewalk.
Strictly speaking, no effort was needed; it was already done.
'He's the Sacred Blood vampire at the apex of all bloodlines, after all.'
Vampire society was a rigid hierarchy.
Not even progenitors like Holy Bloods, but a Sacred Blood vampire towering above...
Off-spec, a god in the flesh.
'Hans the Immortal King was a similar case.'
The degree varied, but Heinrich—the Main God's angel and saint—Harris, the high elf mouthpiece of the World Tree, and Hella, 16th Great Demon of the demon world—all required no extra work.
'Wait, thinking about it... The timing of these incidents...'
Suddenly, a hypothesis flashed through his mind.
It aligned perfectly with when he'd sprouted divinity, touched the world's secrets, and observed that existence.
Coincidence?
'No way.'
Something was stirring.
But his immediate options were limited.
For now, the best was bulking up divinity to brace for whatever future storm came.
"Hm?"
Then—
Heinz's brow twitched at a sensation.
"Lord? Something wrong?"
Jin So-ran asked cautiously from beside him, but he was already deeply immersed, unresponsive.
Just staring coldly into the distance.
'This signal...'
A response from one particularly thick strand amid the tangled web of divinity.
One who'd left for another world just recently.
A crisis alert from Kang Tae-san.