Chapter 7
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: A Light Sport
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*‘Ignorant medieval bastards.’*
I clicked my tongue inwardly as I watched the three men, their cheeks trembling in a furious display of anger. Hana had clearly told them we were the guards, yet they showed no sign of stopping. They probably thought they’d get off with a fine at most.
Still, they had enough sense not to draw their axes, merely approaching while spewing curses. In response, I let my hand fall from the hilt of my sword.
The man in the lead was a bald, brawny fellow. His thick arms suggested he was strong, but his reach was shorter than mine.
“You gutless piece of shit. You son of a whore!”
The man suddenly cursed my parentage and threw a powerful punch.
The first time I’d heard someone curse my parents, I was quite taken aback, but among mercenaries, it was an insult with the same universal appeal as ‘son of a bitch.’
*‘He might actually be the son of a whore for all I know.’*
I didn’t know the specifics of this body’s family history, so there was a chance the man’s words were true.
He seemed to have some fighting experience, though; his punching form wasn't bad. Of course, it wasn’t nearly fast enough to hit me. I brought my forearm down on his arm. A sickening *crack* echoed as the man's forearm twisted at an unnatural angle.
His face contorted instantly, his mouth opening wide to scream. I grabbed the back of his head.
“Agh…”
Before his scream could begin, I slammed his face into the table.
*Crash.*
The table shattered, sending splinters of red-stained wood and yellow, rotten teeth flying.
The man standing right behind the one I’d taken down was stunned by the sudden turn of events, his expression a strange mix of anger and confusion. His eyes were wide, but his mouth was puckered as if he were about to curse, creating a comical look.
The momentum of the fight had already shifted.
I took a step forward and swung my leg.
“Gyaaaaaaah!”
My foot connected with his thigh, and his leg bent in a gruesome direction. He let out a long scream, clutching his dangling leg as he writhed on the floor.
The noise was so grating that I picked up a nearby piece of wood and smacked him over the head with it. He quieted down right away.
The last one remaining was a man with upturned eyes who looked like a weasel. The weasel-faced man stared, his mouth agape, his gaze shifting between his two fallen comrades and me. He had the kind of expression you’d expect from someone whose wall suddenly collapsed while they were showering, exposing them to the world.
“N-no…”
His hand, resting on the handle of his axe, twitched. He seemed to be debating whether to draw his weapon.
Within the castle walls, a light fistfight was tolerated as a form of camaraderie among commoners, or even a sport. But drawing steel was another matter entirely.
“Are you going to draw it?”
I asked while picking out a suitably sized piece of wood. The weasel’s eyes darted around for a moment before he shook his head. From his miserable expression, it seemed he had made his decision.
“Good. Smart choice. Now, bite down hard.”
“Ah… th-that… what I said to the woman earlier, it’s because I’m a mercenary… a sort of custom, you could say… just a ritualistic thing mercenaries do when they see a woman… I didn’t mean it… I swear.”
A sour stench filled the air; he must have pissed himself. All his earlier bravado had vanished. He looked at me with the eyes of a gentle lamb, his words tumbling out in a stutter.
I didn’t find it particularly funny. Becoming a lamb in the face of a stronger predator was as natural as water flowing downhill. The brave and noble souls who overcame such natural laws were all already in their graves.
Their tombstones would probably be proudly inscribed: *Braver than any other.* I doubt it was much of a comfort.
Seeing that he had resigned himself to his fate, the man squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. I swung the piece of wood at his head. *Thwack!* A crisp sound rang out as he collapsed. The floor was now littered with more yellow, rotten teeth, belonging to one of the two men.
*‘Ignorant medieval bastards.’*
*Tsk.* I clicked my tongue and dragged the fallen men into a corner. They must have been eating well; they were quite heavy.
“They didn’t even last three days…”
Hana grumbled as she picked up the teeth from the floor, but the deal was already done.
***
“…Shorry.”
The weasel-faced one was the first to come to. As soon as he opened his eyes and saw me, he started to scream, then quickly slapped a hand over his own mouth. He seemed to be a quick learner.
I gestured with my head to his side. The weasel-faced man slapped his unconscious companions’ cheeks hard enough to make a sharp *smack*.
One of them woke up and started cursing at the weasel, then saw me and tried to scream, only for the weasel to quickly cover his mouth.
“Shorry.”
“…Shorry, shir.”
They sat side by side, looking up at me. Their pronunciation was comical due to their missing teeth. They winced in pain, their arms or legs bent at odd angles, but forced a smile whenever they met my gaze.
“What were you saying earlier?”
“…Huh?”
The weasel answered, his voice filled with terror.
“You said your monthly pay was thirty silver.”
“Th-that… that was… I was outta my mind then, just shpouting nonshenshe! I’m shorry!”
“Why thirty silver?”
“Huh?”
“Why did you think it was thirty silver?”
“W-well… that’s…”
“Well?”
“A-a guard I know from Byzant Castle… he shaid sho when we were drinking…”
“I get twenty silver.”
“Huh?”
“I said, I get paid twenty silver a month.”
My answer made his eyes go wide. His expression seemed to ask, ‘So what?’ He wasn’t as quick on the uptake as I thought. He had the look of a mind reader, too.
“Here I am, working so hard even after my shift. And I hear those bastards at Byzant Castle work fewer hours than we do, too.”
“W-wha… Is that shoo? Th-that’s unbuhlievable! After all your hard work! Those shons of whores! They’re worshe than devils!”
“Right? It’s unbelievable, isn’t it?”
“…Yeah.”
The weasel’s eyes darted around for a moment. When I subtly held out my palm, he seemed to understand the situation. His eyes widened again, and he glanced nervously toward the door before letting out a sigh.
I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. I could hear bustling sounds from below. A grunt of pain followed by a string of curses told me someone had touched an injury, but I kept my eyes on the ceiling.
“A… a humble token of our appreciation for the hardworking guard.”
When I looked down again, the weasel was politely offering me a few silver and copper coins. He was an honest man; just as he said, it was truly a humble amount.
“Hmm. My eyes are getting dim. Is this ten silver?”
“Th-that’s… we haven’t completed our requesht yet, sho this is all we have on us!”
The weasel cried out in a desperate voice, but I didn’t even snort. There was no way mercenaries, who wouldn’t even trust their own parents, would be carrying only that much.
“Nothing in your underwear?”
“H-how did you—! Hmph!”
The weasel shouted in shock, then realized his mistake and quickly clamped his mouth shut, but it was too late. I went back to staring at the ceiling.
“Son of a bitch…”
Following the curse, which I spat out under my breath, came the sound of movement, more frantic than before.
“…*Hic*.”
A sound of someone trying to stifle a sob made me lower my head. This time, ten silver coins rested on the weasel’s palm. A few of them had a yellowish tint, and I was reluctant to touch them.
“This offering is a bit dirty.”
*Ggrrrind.* The weasel ground his teeth, then rubbed the coins on his trousers to wipe them clean. When he offered them again, they were all shiny.
“Alright. Stay out of trouble from now on. And if you can’t help but cause trouble, do it where I can see you.”
Proud of the man who had shed his ignorant medieval mercenary ways thanks to my tutelage, I patted the weasel on the shoulder. He winced in pain, but that was no concern of mine.
“You can go.”
With a casual wave of my hand, they helped each other up and limped out of the tavern.
Watching the one with the broken arm and the one with the broken leg support each other, it seemed their shared inadequacies had forged a stronger bond of camaraderie between them.
I half-expected them to mutter something like ‘you’ll pay for this,’ but they scurried away without a single glance back.
I looked at the silver coins in my hand and smiled. I’d relieved some stress and even earned some silver. Today was a truly lucky day.
Just then, Hana held out her hand to me. It was a gesture demanding I hand something over.
“Three chairs, one table, the fancy meals, three mugs of beer, and the cleaning fee!”
Hana pointed to the various messes around the hall, her eyes fixed on me.
What nonsense. The chairs had already been broken and tossed in a corner, and Brick had broken one of the table legs the other day when he got drunk and danced on it.
It was an obvious ploy, but I handed Hana two silver coins. She had played a part in me earning this money, so she deserved this much.
“A round of beer for everyone.”
Hana looked stunned, clearly not expecting me to give her two whole silver coins. I smiled as I made the announcement.
“Woooooah!!!”
A pot-bellied, middle-aged man in the corner shot to his feet with a cheer, and the hall instantly erupted in noise.
*‘That guy is here every time I come, too.’*
I clicked my tongue at the sight of the fat man’s unpleasant dancing.
“…Fifty coppers for Aron now.”
Hana, her cheeks somewhat flushed, shouted with a bright smile before running off to the kitchen.
She seemed to be in high spirits after receiving two silver coins.
***
“Ugh… my head.”
“Jojang, were you drinking yesterday?”
Brick, with his round face, asked in a boyish voice.
“Yeah, so you handle the checkpoint today.”
I replied as I pulled on the leather armor I’d left in the corner.
“Puhaha. Jojang, don’t I always do everything when I’m on duty with you?”
Brick came over with a cheerful grin and helped me securely fasten the leather straps.
“That’s called division of labor.”
“Ah, is that so? As expected, you’re very smart, Jojang.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“Hey, of course not. Oh, my mother packed this for you.”
Brick handed me a loaf of bread filled with pickled fish. Bread with pickled fish… The last time I ate it, the fishy taste lingered in my mouth all day. Just the smell of it made me want to gag.
“You… you really don’t have to do this. It was nothing… You should have stopped her… you little bastard.”
“Hey, how can you say it was nothing? Ever since then, my mother always says your name when she prays.”
I desperately wanted to refuse, but how could I turn down food his mother had made? I forced a smile and took the bread. *That little bastard.*
“She said you should stop by the house sometime…”
“Arooon!!!”
A shout like a pig being slaughtered from the second floor cut Brick off. It was the Daejang’s voice.
“…Jojang, did you cause trouble again?”
Brick asked, looking at me with a worried expression.
I wracked my brain, trying to think if I’d done anything wrong, but no matter how hard I thought, nothing came to mind. I’d been too busy lately to have time for trouble.
“No? I haven’t done anything.”
“Arooooon!!!”
“The Daejang is going to pass out at this rate. You should go. I’ll head out first.”
I nodded at Brick’s words and headed for the Daejang’s office. He was calling for me so desperately that his voice was trembling by the time I opened the door.
“Roooooooon!!!”
“Yes. Aron here.”
When I entered the office, the chubby Daejang’s cheeks were flushed red. He took a deep breath, “Hah…,” as if gathering air for a long speech.
“I told you to watch your conduct because things in the castle are tense lately. But you couldn’t hold back and had to cause trouble?! When you should be the one stopping the others, the Jojang himself goes and does this! I can’t show my face because of you! I can’t!! And those Inner Wall bastards are going to raise such a fuss…”
The Daejang roared with anger, but he didn’t specify what I had done wrong, making it difficult for me to grasp the situation.
*‘Didn’t he say he had complete faith in me just the other day?’*
Seeing the burst blood vessels in his eyes now, it seemed all that faith had vanished. For all his bulk, the Daejang's faith was incredibly light.
I just stood there blankly, contemplating whether I should go eat in the third district for dinner, since I’d come into a bit of money. It was pricey, but the food in the third district was quite decent.
“…So you take responsibility for your own mess! Got it?!”
“Yes… Huh?”
I was wondering if I should splurge and eat in the second district when the Daejang suddenly questioned me. I answered out of habit, then quickly questioned him back.
“You’re the one who beat the mercenaries hired by the Inner Wall into cripples! So you’re going to Bolt Castle in their place!”
The Daejang slammed his fist on the desk. *Thump!* Then, as if his hand hurt, he let out a little grunt and furrowed his brow.
Only then did I realize what transgression the Daejang was reprimanding me for.
It was for kindly teaching some manners to the ignorant medieval mercenaries who were causing a ruckus yesterday and receiving a small token of their gratitude.
*‘That… was wrong?’*
Shocked by this revelation, I scratched at my bristly beard.
Why did they let the people who shit on the streets go free but point fingers at me for doing a good deed? These ignorant and fickle medieval bastards had no clear standards, which always left a man confused.
“Of all the people to beat up, you had to pick mercenaries hired by the Inner Wall! Just like last time! Why do you always resort to beating people up when things go south?! Have you ever considered talking it out?! And if you’re going to hit them, do it in moderation! Did you have to turn them into cripples?!”
The Daejang asked, looking at me as if I were some kind of wild beast.
“Why waste my breath talking? A good beating straightens them right out. Besides, for mercenaries hired by the Inner Wall, their quality was… If we had sent them as they were, it would have definitely caused problems. You should be praising me instead…”
“Get out!! Go take responsibility and fix this!”
It looked like the Daejang’s face might explode if I stayed any longer, so I quickly bowed my head and left.
“Ignorant bastard!!”
Something was thrown, hitting the closed door with a loud *bang!*
*‘Ignorant and fickle medieval bastards.’*
I shook my head at the sound of shattering glass.