Mercenaries Dreaming of Heaven
Belenca tsked her tongue with a sharp tsk tsk, and the mercenaries jumped in fright, fidgeting nervously. Her words were a brutally straightforward fact.
Mercenaries were, in essence, people who fought for pay. Even wandering knights like Belenca could be considered mercenaries in the broadest sense. Well-equipped men-at-arms in full plate were mercenaries, and scruffy rural louts armed with just a falchion and gambeson were mercenaries too. They were the sort who’d do anything for coin, so mercenaries generally had a bad reputation. The moment you killed for money, wasn’t heaven off the table?
Knightly orders had guidelines for killing—called chivalry. Protect the weak, don’t swing your sword at women or children, fight honorably on the battlefield, and so on. Even knights who stuck to chivalry couldn’t shamelessly dream of paradise. So how could these thugs, barely distinguishable from highway robbers, entertain such notions? It wasn’t surprising that Belenca thought, Oh, look at Mr. Conscience exploding here~.
“K-Knight lady! Our boss is a devout Celestial Church believer! He’d be heartbroken to hear that...”
Belenca pulled a face like she’d bitten into something sour, but Ian stepped in to mediate.
“Yeah, ease up. They don’t know any better.”
“Planning to claim it was a blind swing, Ian? But swords don’t have eyes. That’s why the one wielding it needs to keep theirs open.”
Juabil kept sniffling, while the other mercenaries fussed over their leader(?). For now, Ian tidied up the situation.
“Take me to the tent where the demon sorcerer was holed up.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Every word from Ian had the mercenaries bowing their heads and trembling. He’d already put on a show of incinerating men alive. That alone made him seem beyond human—no mercenary wanted to test him.
What a headache, Ian thought, shaking his head at the cowering bunch.
Truth be told, all Ian wanted was to cross the river. With no proper road nearby, he’d picked this bridge by chance. Who knew it was occupied by some damn demon sorcerer?
“...”
A warm presence drew close. Before he knew it, Kira had sidled up, clinging to his arm like a lover. To the mercenaries, they probably looked like a cozy couple. Ian wondered why, then his gaze locked on her lips—pale and blue.
“You okay?”
“...A bit cold.”
It made sense. Even if the day was mild, they’d been soaked in the downpour. But Kira wasn’t just shivering from the chill. She was scared.
“Ian... was it okay to kill that guy?”
A pointless question. The water was already spilled.
Ian shrugged. “He tried to kill me first. Obvious demon sorcerer. Probably trained in some vile way.”
At his explanation, Kira’s expression darkened further.
“...If he was that evil a mage, won’t his allies come for revenge?”
Fair point. Ian had no clue what that demon sorcerer was about. Could be part of some group. This incident might draw retaliation.
“Eh... If something happens, Gerard will come warn us.”
Kira’s face brightened a little at that.
“Oh! Right! That chronomancer!”
Gerard was the one who’d guided Kira to her fire mage fate. He had tons of interest in Ian’s future, so if an attack came, he’d probably tip them off. Chronomancers were shady, but handy for this.
Ian could just sprawl on the floor, scratching it, and demand, Gimme a prophecy~ His future seemed tangled in their interests anyway.
“Here it is, mage sir.”
Guided by the mercenaries, Ian inspected demon sorcerer Walter’s tent.
“Whoa, shit.”
The curse slipped out the moment he stepped in. Right in the center of the room sat a human skull, proudly displayed. Holding back an exclamation was impossible—max level failed.
“Whoa! Sand!”
“???”
Not some baked clay ornament—a real human skull. Ian quickly realized it was a terminal for chatting with demons.
Sure enough, as he approached, a chilling voice echoed.
[Kill... Slay it and offer me its blood!]
[Kuhuhu... I smell your desire... Don’t you crave the virginity of that redheaded bitch beside you? Rape her! And I’ll grant you power!]
[I’ll give you power, riches beyond imagination! Answer my voice! Mage!]
“...Fucking demons.”
Typical demon bullshit—just hearing it made his ears feel filthy. For the temptation-prone, those offers might hook them. This medieval fantasy world had info bias as a passive skill. Rumors said demons were evil, but details were fuzzy. In the modern world, he’d Google the hell out of it. But in info-starved medieval times, shallow pitches like that snagged plenty into demon pacts.
Get lost, you demon scum.
Ian’s cold reaction panicked the demon, who started babbling desperately.
[Sign up now and get a ★National Power Magic Sword★ for FREE!]
[SSR Minion! Instant. Delivery!]
“...?”
Ian was instantly baffled. What the hell were these clowns? Demons belonged to chaos, peering into human desires. Not knowing what a national-power magic sword even was, they were just mashing words from his mind.
It was straight-up phishing level. Exclusive info just for you! Invest in this shit-stock now for 200% returns guaranteed! Sane folks ignored it, but the info-poor, naive, or dim fell for it and wrecked their lives.
“Fucking scam demon shits.”
Ian despised them without mercy. Even lame temptations snagged the desperate. Toss [Rape a woman and I’ll give you power!] at a lifelong virgin—how many could shrug it off? Usually, it’d spawn a Nobelpia smut story on the spot. Lifelong incels were that thirsty. Demons loved inflicting pain, sowing chaos, and reveling in madness.
Ian turned away from the skull without hesitation.
“...?”
But Kira didn’t. She stared at it, entranced.
Oh crap...!
Ian had scam immunity from modern cons that fleeced even kids, but Kira was a naive medieval girl!
“Kira!”
Having touched mysteries before, Kira easily heard the demon’s voice. Her magical talent turned poison.
“Snap out of it! Kira!”
As she dazedly reached for the skull, Ian freaked. What temptation had her so hooked?! No response. In a panic, he yanked her into his arms and forced her to turn away.
"[Let go of this!]"
"[Let me keep listening to the demon! Ian!]"
It wasn’t Kira—it was the demon hijacking her voice.
“What the fuck are you saying in Kira’s voice?!”
Ian pinned her to the floor, straddling her to hold position.
“Look at me! Kira!”
"[The demon's voice...! I want to hear it...!]"
“Don’t look at that damn skull—look at me!”
Ian shoved his face right into hers. Eyes were windows to the soul. His mage-will-infused gaze pierced her, and her expression slowly cleared—from desire-glazed to her usual clear-eyed self.
“...Ian?”
“You back? Kira?”
Kira blinked blankly at his face—faint smile, hands pinning her shoulders while straddling her—
“...!”
She flushed beet red with embarrassment.
“I-I-I-Ian! I’m fine, so get off already?!”
“You sure? For real?”
As Ian scrutinized her face intently, Kira wished she could just faint.
“Totally fine!”
She shoved him off in a fluster and turned away. Her blush was totally busted...
“Demon temptation. Impressive...”
“What’d you see?”
Ian asked out of genuine curiosity. He’d gotten bullshit about national-power magic swords. Kira must’ve seen something else.
“Uh. What?”
She startled visibly, dodging his eyes. Hmm... super awkward. Like she got caught watching porn.
“S-Secret. Can’t say.”
“For real?”
Kira clamped her mouth shut and nodded. Ian let it go. No need to force it if she didn’t want to spill.
“In exchange for keeping your secret, promise me one thing.”
“...”
“Never. Ever listen to demons again.”
At his serious face, Kira replied earnestly.
“I promise. No matter what, I’ll never go near demons.”
“Good.”
Ian offered his hand. Kira took it, stood, and glanced around.
“Everything here’s creepy.”
Demon sorcerer Walter’s tent screamed black mage lair. Skulls aside, they found human-skin grimoires and finger necklaces. All evil as hell—perfect for hearing demon voices if studied. All trashed.
“Hm?”
Then Ian spotted a ring in a chest. Nothing exotic—a signet ring.
“Kira, check this.”
Signet rings stamped seals into wax on documents. Ancients used wax seals with personal crests to prove authenticity. History ran deep—even ancient Egyptians used them.
“Ever seen this crest?”
Signets identified senders, usually family or guild emblems.
“Hmm...?”
Kira tilted her head. As a fake mage, she’d memorized noble crests. Minor baronies maybe not, but major ones yes.
“No clue?”
Ian nodded. Not a famous noble house. Narrowed it down. Likely the symbol of whatever group Walter belonged to.
And Ian had seen it—courtesy of Namuwiki goddess Eredis’s lessons.
“It’s an ancient Celestial Church symbol.”
“Ancient Celestial Church...?”
Four equilateral triangles in a circle. Per his memory, it symbolized the Golden Rule.
"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."
“What, what’d you say?”
“Ancient tongue. Old Celestial Church doctrine.”
Ian squinted at the signet. Why was an ancient Celestial Church Golden Rule symbol in a demon sorcerer’s stuff? No answers yet.
Pocket this.
Ian slipped the signet ring into his pouch.