The Heavenly Slaughter Star Learns Social Life. Maybe.
Two months had passed since their last visit. Upon arriving in the small border city of Dendalo, Enoch walked the familiar streets with the ease of habit. As always, Rionne was not at his side. The single difference from three years ago was that even Undine no longer clung to him. Enoch didn’t particularly care whether he had an escort or not; he simply let out a lazy yawn. It was only natural. In a place like this, there was no one who could possibly be his opponent.
Living with Rionne and Undine had somewhat dulled his senses, but the two of them were powerhouses even by the standards of the entire continent. Of course Enoch himself had not yet reached their realm, yet in a small city like this he still stood as a relative superior. He had no idea how skilled the lord’s knights or mages might be… but then, it wasn’t as if he would ever run into them. And even if he did, he would feel no fear. According to Undine, Enoch was the kind of “crazy brat who would keep yawning even if a knife was pressed to his throat.”
“Hmm…”
Was this the place? Enoch’s gaze settled on a single building. A three-story structure noticeably larger and more refined than those around it. From the presences he sensed, quite a few people were inside. An unusual sight for such a small city, yet in a way it made perfect sense. Dendalo was a frontier town. Being so close to the forest where Rionne lived, there was never a shortage of work for mercenaries who made their living hunting monsters and beasts.
Mercenary Guild
After confirming the sign, Enoch pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The bell above the door let out a bright chime. For a brief moment, several pairs of eyes turned toward him. Then came the probing stares and a subtle silence.
‘A noble?’
‘What would a noble be doing in a backwater like this?’
The whispers suggested some kind of misunderstanding, but Enoch ignored them and walked straight to the counter.
“What business brings you here today?”
“I want to get a mercenary tag made.”
“A mercenary tag… you say?”
The clerk rolled her eyes for a second, then pulled a sheet of paper from beneath the counter. “Do you have anything that could prove your family name?”
Of course he didn’t. If he asked Rionne, he could probably get something like the Estor family crest, but he had never intended to do any such thing.
“No.”
“Ah… I see…”
Rose, the guild receptionist, quickly sized up the boy in front of her. Young age, neat and expensive clothing, striking features, and skin so white and smooth it looked untouched by hardship. He was either a noble or had a very famous teacher. The fact that he carried nothing to prove his identity meant one of two things: this was some young master’s rebellious adventure without his family’s help, or there was a reason it would be inconvenient if his background came to light.
Having reached a quick conclusion, Rose smiled and began explaining the procedure. “Just fill in your name, gender, and check the appropriate boxes in the common tongue. Please read the precautions and terms carefully, then check the consent box here as well. The fee will be…”
Enoch filled out the form with careless strokes. The fluent handwriting only deepened Rose’s certainty.
“Martial arts… Expert… Whoa! That’s amazing!”
“……”
“Normally the first tag we issue is F-rank, but if you can prove your realm, you can be promoted straight to D-rank.”
It was exactly what Rionne had told him. Enoch was about to nod when a mocking laugh came from behind.
“Expert? You’d better write the truth before you embarrass yourself.”
“Hey, hey! What are you doing!”
“Move! Damn it, you think mercenary work is a game?”
Rionne had mentioned this sort of thing might happen. Her roundabout explanation had basically meant, There are a lot of empty-headed idiots who start fights for no reason. Naturally, she had also taught him how to handle it: ignore them at first, but if they cross the line, deal with them decisively.
“Pretty boy over there. With a face like that you’d make good money at a brothel. Huh? If you just stretched those ears a little longer you could pass for an elf. Those elf bitches, just looking at them makes you want to—”
The line had clearly been crossed.
Enoch flicked the pen he was holding like a throwing dagger.
“Aaaaaagh—!”
Red blood sprayed through the air. The pen Enoch had thrown tore brutally through the mercenary’s shoulder, and the severed arm dropped to the floor with a wet thud.
“Jack!”
“I knew this would happen!”
“You son of a bitch! You want a fight?!”
The guild instantly turned chaotic. Enoch quietly calculated. Exactly how far did “deal with them decisively” go? In his heart he wanted to kill the man outright, but… Rionne would probably scold him. Would tearing off all four limbs be enough?
While he was pondering, the man’s comrades charged in. These ones hadn’t insulted elves, so where exactly was the line?
A spear thrust straight at his face. At the same time, a sword flew in from the side toward his ribs. Enoch tilted his head slightly and took one step forward. The weapons sliced through empty air. That inevitably created an opening. If the opponent had been a true master far above Enoch, even exploiting that gap would have been difficult, but—
“Guh—?!”
With a crisp impact, one man flew into the air. Maybe it was because of the gauntlets the dwarf had given him, but the feedback felt disappointingly weak.
“With skill like this… you call yourself a mercenary?”
Enoch tilted his head and strode toward the next opponent. He had already dealt with the spearman. This woman held a sword. The moment she failed to maintain proper distance and allowed Enoch within arm’s reach, the outcome was decided.
“W-wait—!”
Ignoring her, he slammed a fist into her abdomen. With a sharp scream, the female mercenary went flying.
After confirming both were unconscious, Enoch turned to the last man. The fellow had been fidgeting nervously in the back the entire time. When Enoch’s gaze landed on him, he trembled and took a step backward.
“Hm.”
Apparently he had no intention of fighting. Enoch ignored the retreating man and stopped in front of the one still writhing on the floor, clutching the torn stump of his shoulder.
“You.”
“Ughhh…”
“A mere human.”
Crunch—!
He stomped down on the severed shoulder. A horrific scream tore through the guild.
“Aaaaaaaaagh…!!!”
Enoch let out a pleased sigh and looked around. Most eyes shone with excitement, a few with disgust. No one else seemed inclined to pick a fight, which left him somewhat disappointed.
“What should I do with you?”
If he followed his heart, he would tear the man’s limbs off and leave him to dry in the sun, but that would definitely earn him a scolding from Rionne. The sin of daring to insult an elf deserved death, but what could he do? Clicking his tongue, Enoch settled for crushing one of the man’s legs.
“Aaaaaagh…!!”
The man convulsed. Enoch decided that was enough and turned back to the receptionist.
The errand Rionne had given him today was to obtain a mercenary tag. Since he still hadn’t received it, he needed to finish the remaining procedures.
“So, D-rank?”
“Ah, yes… but…”
Rose’s eyes darted around nervously. She couldn’t issue a mercenary tag to a criminal. Yet whether this incident counted as a crime was rather ambiguous…
Just then, the people who would end her dilemma burst through the guild doors.
“Freeze! We’ve told you repeatedly that combat within city limits can result in immediate punishment!”
The men wearing partially gleaming silver armor were the city guards. Their skills were nothing special, but unless one intended to fight the lord himself, it was best not to touch them. Under normal circumstances, the proper response would have been to explain oneself and hope for their mercy, but—
“Oh.”
That common sense did not apply to Enoch. He had been born and raised in the slums. Watching fights was an everyday occurrence there, and guards had never existed. After being taken in by Rionne, there was even less reason for him to feel intimidated by them. The fight had come looking for him; sparks of electricity danced in his black eyes.
“Don’t complicate things and surrender quietly!”
One guard approached without hesitation. Enoch smiled brightly and raised his hand.
‘Beating them up a little shouldn’t get me in trouble, right?’
Just before a large lump could form on the guard’s head—
“Stop! Stop right there!”
Someone rushed into the guild in a panic.
“S-Sir Wilbert?! What brings you here?!”
The guards immediately bowed at the sight of the newcomer. Unlike them, this man was fully clad in silver armor. A genuine knight had arrived.
“You lot! Stop your nonsense and return to your squad at once!”
“Huh? But our orders…”
“Shut up! Move!”
The guards looked utterly bewildered, but they dared not argue with a knight. Doing so could literally cost them their heads. In the end they saluted the knight, shot Enoch a quick glare, and left the guild.
Now only the mercenaries, Enoch, and the single knight remained. The man called Wilbert wiped sweat from his brow and gave Enoch a deep bow.
“I shall take my leave as well.”
“……?”
“Then.”
The knight left the guild just as quickly. Enoch scratched his cheek under the strange stares of the mercenaries.
“Hm.”
What a shame.
Having given up quickly, Enoch turned back to the receptionist.
“D-rank?”
“Ah, yes!”
The mercenary tag was issued in no time. The clerk seemed strangely eager to hurry the process along, but from Enoch’s perspective that was only convenient. He took the metal plate and examined it closely. A simple metal tag engraved with basic personal information. He had paid quite a sum, yet this single plate could prove one’s identity? He couldn’t sense any magic on it. Then what exactly was the point of it?
He would have to ask Rionne later. As Enoch turned to leave the guild—
“Hey, kid. You the brat who did that?”
Someone blocked his path.
“?”
He looked up. Only then did he see the face. A muscular woman easily three heads taller than him. He had no idea who she was.
“That half-cripple you made earlier belongs to my clan.”
So that was it. Was she insane? She must have heard about the knight’s attitude as well. Enoch might dislike thinking, but he wasn’t stupid. He could make reasonable inferences from the situation. So what was this woman? Either someone powerful enough to fight the lord, or a complete idiot with flowers growing in her brain. Either option was welcome.
Crackle—!
Purple lightning sparked inside his black eyes.
“W-wait! Hold on!”
There would be no waiting.
Thud—!