Chapter 27
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: The Weasel's Calling
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“Boss!!”
The Weasel burst in and bowed his head deeply, like a knight receiving a command.
“Of all the people, why this good-for-nothing…”
“Jojang, you said that out loud.”
“Ah. Right. Why’d this piece of trash have to show up?”
I scratched my cheek at Berman’s remark.
“Haha! Boss! Aren’t we comrades who fought shoulder-to-shoulder, crossing the line between life and death!”
The Weasel rubbed his palms together, flashing that signature vile grin of his. I couldn’t help but sigh. He had the kind of face that would stab you in the back with a dagger the moment you were holding a bag of gold.
“I think he’s a decent guy. I heard the team next to us got a greenhorn who just came of age. Compared to that…”
Surprisingly, Pul came to the Weasel’s defense.
Come to think of it, the two of them were strangely similar. Both had upturned, slanted eyes—the classic look of a scoundrel. Pul was like the Weasel, but with an extra shot of venom.
“Ooh… are you the legendary members of Team 4 who fought and defeated a devil?! It’s truly an honor!”
Seeing his chance, the Weasel immediately bowed his head and spewed a stream of honeyed words. He must have practiced, as there wasn't a moment's hesitation.
“Huhu… has the rumor already spread that far? I was popular enough as it is, but now with this on top of it all, things are going to get quite troublesome.”
Kel muttered in his cheesy voice, running a hand through his bangs. The corners of his mouth were turned up; the Weasel’s flattery had clearly worked.
“Ahem, don’t you worry. If you join us, you too can become a part of the legend.”
Brick put on an unfittingly solemn expression and mumbled in a low voice. Judging by his face, you’d think he was a general who had slain ten devils.
“You, you have a very good face.”
Pul looked at the Weasel, nodding repeatedly.
‘…Simpletons.’
I was slightly impressed by the Weasel, who was once again flashing his vile smile and shamelessly sucking up to the others. I’d thought it when he was lying among the zombies, but this was a bastard who could survive no matter where you threw him.
After a while of praising our rumored exploits, the Weasel casually began to recount the story of what had happened with me. Everyone focused on him, and he continued as if the stage were his own.
“…Thousands of zombies stretching from here to there, swaaarming—so everyone else was running away! But the boss and I stood firm! Shoulder to shoulder! We shouted, ‘If we retreat here, the empire is in danger!’ and…”
‘Thousands… my ass.’
The Weasel’s over-the-top exaggeration was so absurd I let out a hollow laugh.
He threw punches at the air, adding a vividness to his tale. At the end, he spun some ridiculous yarn about the zombies merging into a giant zombie, and how he had to get on my shoulders to trade punches with it, but it was so bizarrely funny that it was entertaining.
The ridiculous story made the other team members roar with laughter at the Weasel, and the atmosphere instantly lightened. The Weasel seized the opportunity, raising his hand high and declaring he was buying the beer, to which everyone cheered.
A moment later, the Weasel had his arm around Pul’s shoulders and was hopping up and down. He claimed it was a dance from the northern regions, but he just looked like a man with his feet on fire.
Watching Pul and the Weasel together, their resemblance was so striking I wondered if they shared a parent.
“Hey, you two don’t share a parent, do you?”
“…Pardon?”
“What do you mean by that, Jojang?”
Pul and the Weasel tilted their heads at my question.
“I’m asking if your parents are the same. Half-brothers, or maybe long-lost siblings. Something like that.”
“They do look alike. Even the way their mustaches only grow on their philtrums.”
Brick, his face flushed from drinking, quickly raised his hand in agreement.
At that, the Weasel and Pul looked at each other’s faces, then simultaneously scrunched up their own. Their expressions seemed to say, ‘You think I look like this fucking ugly bastard?’
“Still, you never know.”
“I’m an orphan, Boss!”
“Uh… Um. Me too, Jojang.”
As the commonalities kept piling up, their faces contorted even further.
‘Well, I guess normal folks don’t make a living by the sword.’
I sipped my beer, watching the two of them talk with uneasy expressions about where they were born and where they grew up.
“Ah, I just remembered, we forgot the tradition!”
Suddenly, Kel spoke up, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked like he was suffering from some nutritional deficiency, but I suppose it was meant to be a wink.
“We have a tradition unique to Team 4. Can’t believe I forgot. Must be drunk already.”
Brick chimed in awkwardly.
“Ahem… right, there was that.”
Berman nodded.
“A tradition, you say?”
The Weasel, who had been comparing nose sizes with Pul, tilted his head.
At his question, Pul gave a meaningful smile and subtly twirled his fingers.
“An Outer Wall Guard is a man among men, protecting the castle, wouldn't you say? So when we get a new recruit, we have him prove his manhood.”
As if they had rehearsed it, they skillfully steered the mood.
It was a crude prank fitting for the barbaric medieval age. A classic trick where they build up the atmosphere to make the new guy do something reckless to prove himself.
Brick had once tried to prove his worth by downing ten mugs of beer in a row, only to vomit all over the floor. I still vividly remembered him, completely drunk, screaming that we were all trash and terrible people.
And the next day at headquarters, I saw Brick with his head planted on the ground.
Now, that same Brick was the most excited one leading the charge. The Weasel stroked his chin, seemingly contemplating.
“Prove my manhood, you say?”
The seriousness in the Weasel’s voice made me inexplicably anxious.
The others nodded, and the Weasel suddenly jumped onto the table.
Everyone looked up at his unexpected action.
“The proof of a man’s worth is!! This, is it not!! I, Dylan of the Outer Wall Guard Team 4! A man among men…!”
The Weasel abruptly raised his right hand and bellowed, drawing everyone’s attention.
And before anyone could stop him, he yanked down his pants with a confident expression.
‘Ah… fuck.’
The only silver lining was that I was standing behind him. If I had been in front, I might have drawn my sword and stabbed him.
Everyone was stunned into silence by the Weasel’s outrageous behavior. Perhaps that spurred him on, because he suddenly started rotating his hips.
Just as the disgust became unbearable and I was about to draw my sword.
Hana, who was bringing over more beer, stopped in her tracks.
‘Right, I’ll just stab him. I can always ask for a new one.’
I had made my decision and half-drawn my sword when…
“…Pfft.”
Hana let out a quiet snicker.
The Weasel froze in his bizarre pose. A clear smirk on her face, Hana nonchalantly placed the beer mugs on the table and turned away. She even tossed a playful joke my way.
A heavy silence followed. The Weasel’s back, as he slowly pulled up his pants, looked strangely lonely.
“Ahem… seems he’s unqualified. Should we send him back?”
Kel’s playful mutter made the Weasel’s face turn pale.
“That… that’s above average! Definitely above average! Dylan, you’re man enough! No, you’re a man among men!”
For some reason, Pul passionately defended and praised the Weasel.
However, no one else joined in.
Brick, puffing his chest out even more than before, patted the Weasel on the shoulder, and we continued our drinking as if nothing had happened.
The Weasel, now uncharacteristically quiet, just sipped his drink.
***
“…Boss. Was it really that small? Small enough to laugh at?”
“I don’t know, you bastard.”
“No… I’m sure… the whores said it was the finest among men… the best they’d ever seen…”
The Weasel kept muttering, “The whores…,” his voice weak, as if he’d lost all his masculine confidence.
‘So that’s where his confidence came from.’
I laughed out loud at that. The Weasel’s eyes twitched, but then his expression softened.
“Phew… anyway, to think that I’m in the same guard team as you, Boss. It feels surreal.”
Returning to his smiling self, the Weasel thumped his chest with his fist as he spoke.
He seemed genuinely moved to have become a guard, launching into a teary-eyed tale of how tough his life as a mercenary had been.
I compared the life of a mercenary to that of a guard. You carry a sword, extort some money and goods, intimidate people, throw a few punches, and then go home.
‘They’re pretty similar.’
But the Weasel looked so expectant that I held my tongue.
A week had passed since my brother had caused that incident. The Lord had finally regained consciousness, and the castle gates, which had been shut for some time, were reopened.
During that time, I was summoned to the inner castle several times. Fortunately, the red-robed fellow the knight and the inquisitor had been beating up turned out to be a bigger fish than expected, so the Lord was too preoccupied to reprimand the guards.
‘Besides, it’s not like you can filter out necromancers during a routine inspection.’
Though we were hassled quite a bit, there were no repercussions for us.
The survivors moved diligently to fill the void left in Casedic Castle. In the medieval era, where two out of four were expected to die, death was a familiar concept, and the speed at which the gaps were filled was fast.
Only a week had passed, but the castle was already bustling with life again.
I pushed aside my thoughts and knocked on the Daejang’s door.
“Enter.”
I opened the door to find the Daejang sitting with a weary face, still squeezed into his tight armor.
“Duty report, sir.”
“Oh, right. Aron Jojang, my most trusted man. With what happened recently, be stricter with inspections than usual. And don’t you dare slack off, just in case.”
Without even looking at me, the Daejang finished speaking and waved his hand dismissively. I bowed and left, the Weasel following me out.
“Here, use this.”
After a quick look around, I handed the Weasel a sword that was propped up in a corner. It was Quarter’s.
The Weasel, ecstatic, thrust the sword into his belt and struck a few poses. He already had one sword at his waist, making it two, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“That’s the thing about swords, isn’t it? They break at the most crucial moments, or the blade gets too dull to use…”
Anyone could see he was just being greedy, but since he had a point, I nodded.
After a quick check of our attire, the Weasel and I headed for the castle gate.
A familiar face standing by the gate spotted me and grinned widely.
“Well then, enjoy the grind.”
He waved his hand, just as I had done to him once.
‘Hmph, what a petty bastard.’
For some reason, that got under my skin.
A moment later, a wagon approached.
“Watch carefully.”
“Yessir!”
Leaving the Weasel’s spirited reply behind me, I approached the wagon driver.
“Good day.”
A skinny man with thinning hair took off his hat and offered a greeting. I gave a slight nod and inspected the wagon. There was nothing special. Mostly foodstuffs like dried meat. He was a regular driver, so his face was familiar. I called him Anchovy John.
“I heard through the grapevine that there was some sort of commotion here in Casedic Castle…”
Anchovy John trailed off, discreetly handing me a silver coin.
“A commotion is an understatement.”
I nodded, pocketing the silver.
“To think a devil would appear in a remote place like this… you must have gone through a lot. Of course, if those devils had known you were here, Sir Aron, they wouldn’t have come! Haha!”
The affable Anchovy John laughed and casually put his hat back on.
‘Ah, he did say to be strict with the inspections.’
With my brother’s incident still fresh, it seemed a more refined and thorough inspection method was needed. So, I smacked the man on the back of the head. *Thwack!* With a crisp sound, Anchovy John fell forward.
Seeing him hit the ground with a thud, it seemed he wasn't a necromancer or a devil.
“Guess not. You’re clear to pass!”
Anchovy John didn’t get up, so I shook him for a bit until he sat up with a bewildered look on his face.
“…Huh? Why was I lying down?”
“You must not be getting enough sleep lately. Things are tense these days, so don’t cause any trouble inside.”
I gave his shoulder a light pat, and Anchovy John smiled brightly and took the reins. Putting his hat back on, he bowed his head and passed me, entering the castle.
“See? Something like that.”
I turned my head to find the Weasel looking up at me, his eyes sparkling with an uncomfortable intensity.
“C-Can I really do it just like you did, Boss?!”
At his question, filled with anticipation, I gave a reluctant nod. The Weasel’s eyes widened again, and he exhaled a hot breath.
A moment later, another wagon driver approached.
This time, though I was a bit hesitant, I sent the Weasel.
His face flushed with excitement, the Weasel ran towards the driver and started shouting something.
The driver replied with a flustered look, and the Weasel raised his voice even louder, pointing at me.
I vaguely heard the words, “…devil… my boss…”
The driver’s expression immediately soured, and the Weasel shouted again. A moment later, the driver reluctantly pulled two silver coins from his tunic and handed them to the Weasel.
‘…Two?’
The Weasel grinned and waved, but as the driver passed, he suddenly slugged him in the back of the head. The sight was so comical that I couldn’t help but laugh.
The driver, his face turning beet red, yelled something, but the Weasel just pointed at me again. The driver shot me a look of disgust and fled into the castle as if escaping.
“Boss!! Being a guard is truly a wonderful job! To think I can legally extort people like this!”
I held out my hand to the Weasel, who was laughing even harder than before. He tilted his head, confused, but when I made a fist with my other hand, he finally placed one silver coin in my palm.
“So what did you say to make him cough up two silvers?”
“Ah, nothing much. Just scared him a little, told him you tear devils apart with your bare hands and eat them. Hehe… to think he’d believe such a ridiculous story just because you look a bit scary and rough… what a stupid fool, right?”
The Weasel rubbed his palms together, flashing that vile grin of his. However, the content of his story made me feel a bit self-conscious, so I couldn’t laugh.
The Weasel tilted his head at my reaction, but then another wagon approached, and he scampered off toward it.
Despite it being his first day, the Weasel adapted with astonishing speed.
I was inwardly impressed as I watched him coax silver from even the most notoriously difficult drivers.
He kept pointing at me every time, which was a little unsettling, but as long as silver coins ended up in my hand, I could be merciful and let it slide. All I had to do was stand there with my arms crossed and a scowl on my face, and the silver would roll in on its own.
‘…Is this his calling?’
Just then, the Weasel tried to extort money from a woman bringing a meal to a tenant farmer, and I hurriedly stopped him.
Taking money was strictly limited to those who could afford it. The Weasel nodded as if he understood.
The sun was particularly bright, so I was sipping some liquor in the shade for a moment.
“How dare you try to inspect us!!”
A sudden shout rang out. I got up and went over to see the Weasel blocking a carriage bearing the crest of House Fenelle.
A soldier who had dismounted from the carriage was pointing a finger at the Weasel and yelling his head off.
‘That crazy bastard.’
My drowsiness vanished in an instant.
“Ah, so, there are circumstances, you see…”
The soldier looked ready to draw his sword at any moment, but the Weasel, with his characteristic annoying expression, was not backing down and was retorting.
First, I checked the carriage. It bore the Fenelle crest, but a glance through the open door revealed only armed soldiers. I felt a small sense of relief.
Soldiers of House Fenelle were implicitly a cut above us, occupying an ambiguous position between quasi-nobles and commoners—quasi-quasi-nobles, if you will—but in the end, they were still commoners.
“Boss!! Look at these guys! I tried to inspect them, and they’re telling me to get lost!”
“Wha-what? These guys? A mere guard… this bastard doesn’t know his place!”
At the Weasel’s words, the soldier’s face instantly flushed red. The hand gripping his sword hilt trembled; he seemed to be holding back with superhuman patience. The Weasel definitely had a knack for pissing people off.
‘Hmm…’
I weighed the situation in my mind. Normally, a carriage with the Fenelle crest would be allowed to pass without inspection. It was an unspoken agreement between us. Strictly speaking, however, the procedure was to inspect them, crest or not.
Though his intentions were impure, the Weasel was, for all intents and purposes, following procedure, and they were the ones refusing. The scales tipped in their direction.
‘This smells like money.’
I held out a hand to stop the rampaging Weasel. He instantly quieted down, as if he had never been angry at all.
“We are conducting a routine inspection as Outer Wall Guards. Is there a problem?”
“Inspection? Are you blind? Can’t you see the crest of House Fenelle displayed right there? If you’re trying to inspect us even after seeing that, you must be a real idiot.”
The soldier, pointing at the Fenelle crest, curled his lip. His expression seemed to ask, ‘What are you going to do about it?’
The sight of a non-noble lording his authority over me with a crest was so amusing I couldn't help but laugh. It was truly comical that this ignorant, barbaric medieval fool was trying to pick a war of words with me.
I could understand his reaction, though. House Fenelle and House Pulpuchu were on good terms, with marriage talks between them, so anyone with the Fenelle crest would have received pretty good treatment in Casedic Castle.
They might have even been treated better here than in their own lord’s castle. However, the timing was not good for them right now.
“Due to the recent unfortunate incident, it is a special order from the Lord himself to thoroughly inspect everyone passing through the castle gates, crest or no crest. And yet you call us idiots for carrying out that order… Hmm… so you’re calling the Lord an idiot.”
As I sneered, invoking the ‘Lord’s’ name, the soldier who had been so defiant a moment ago suddenly stammered. It was a clear leap in logic and an exaggeration, but the moment a noble’s name was involved, the weight of the words changed drastically.
The soldier had no way of verifying whether it was a special order from the Lord or just an irritable command from the Daejang, who was swamped with work.
“Hmm… and at such a sensitive time, too.”
“I heard the executioner has muscle aches. I feel bad having to call him again, Boss.”
The Weasel, who had been hiding behind me, peeked his head out and quickly added his piece. His acting was so exquisite, he genuinely looked concerned for the executioner.
At that, the soldier gritted his teeth.
His lips twitched as he forced his expression to relax.
“…That wasn’t my intention.”
His tone was still arrogant, but his momentum was broken.
“What do you mean? You dared to call our Lord ignorant and idiotic…”
The Weasel, in his most annoying voice, started prodding the man again. The soldier had only called the act idiotic, but somehow the adjective ‘ignorant’ had been added.
“…Wait!”
The soldier, his face red enough to burst, cut off the Weasel, his cheeks trembling with rage. He reached into his armor, pulled out a grimy pouch, and handed it to me.
The pouch was quite heavy, and I couldn't help but smile. The Weasel followed suit with an annoying grin, but the oblivious soldier didn’t smile back, merely glaring at me with cold eyes.
“Ahem… well. Everyone makes a slip of the tongue now and then. Aren’t we all in a similar boat?”
“Huh? What did he say? It was so noisy I couldn’t hear a thing.”
The Weasel acted nonchalantly, cleaning his ear. The soldier gritted his teeth again and walked past us. Of course, there was still one more procedure left.
*Thwack!*
I smacked the back of his head, and the soldier staggered as if he would fall. However, he wasn’t a complete weakling and managed to stay on his feet.
“You son of a bitch, how dare you…!”
“Ah, procedure. The Lord’s special orders.”
“What… kind of nonsense is this…”
The soldier spun around, his eyes bloodshot as if he would stab me at any moment, and grabbed the hilt of his sword.
‘What are you going to do about it?’
I met his gaze and mirrored the expression he had worn earlier.
I knew he wouldn’t draw his sword. And even if he was a man of courage beyond that of a mere soldier and did draw it, I could just smack him again.
After glaring at me for a moment, the man finally let go of his sword hilt and climbed into the carriage.
“Please come again!”
The Weasel shouted a line worthy of a tavern wench at the departing carriage, waving his hand enthusiastically.
Many more carriages passed after that.
The Weasel was unbelievably good at emptying people’s pockets for a first-timer. He sometimes went too far, and I had to stop him a few times, but eventually, he established his own appropriate standards, and I didn’t have to intervene anymore.
“Being a guard is a much cooler job than I thought. I knew following you was the right choice, Boss…”
The Weasel patted his bulging coin pouch and muttered in an emotional voice.
‘A natural calling really does exist.’
Watching him, I nodded my head.
My own pouch was so full it brought a smile to my face.
***
“Jojang, the church is looking for you.”
I ran into Berman at headquarters after he returned from his patrol.
Behind him, Pul and the Weasel were excitedly chatting about something.
“The church?”
‘Are they going to give me a reward?’
The memory of the hefty reward I received after helping Ben came to mind, and the corners of my mouth crept up.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I understand.”
I nodded and left the headquarters, heading for the assembly hall.
Standing in front of the hall, I suddenly remembered the tenant I had tucked away in my heart and wondered for a moment if I should be this happy.
‘No, I’ve lived such an upright life.’
I quickly shook my head and entered the hall.
The moment I pushed open the door, I had to fight the urge to slam it shut.
“…”
Thick armor that gleamed white.
A greatsword as large as a man.
A face so devoid of emotion it looked like a beautiful doll.
Inquisitor Joanna stood there, one hand resting on the pommel of the mace at her hip, staring at me.