"Have You Finished the Job?"
As soon as Ian stepped out of the tent, the mercenaries popped their heads up one by one like meerkats. Wary of him, yet brimming with curiosity. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight to Ian. Magic wasn't anything special to him, but to ordinary folk, it must seem like a miracle.
"Yeah. That guy. Definitely a nasty mage."
No sooner had Ian spoken than the mercenaries dropped to their knees, shouting in unison.
"W-We got nothing to do with that bastard!"
"He's right! That creep threatened us! Said he'd steal our souls!"
"We've just been mining rocks this whole time! We ain't done nothin' wrong!"
The mercenaries scrambled to deny any ties to the demon mage. A smart move. With the demon mage dead, there was zero reason to stick up for him.
Ian had no plans to squeeze them dry anyway. Even cornered rats bite cats—not to mention armed mercenaries. If they figured there was no escape, they'd grit their teeth and try to kill him. No witnesses, no punishment.
"Yeah. I get it."
"Oh...!"
The terrifying mage was actually listening to them, and their faces lit up. That mage dude! Looks all noble and shiny! (Not really.) Even hearin' out lowly scrubs like us!
"Looks like that demon mage racked up a ton of bad karma."
"Y-Yes! That fucker's a real piece of shit!"
"I knew it the second I saw him!"
Like a pack of dogs, the mercenaries tore into demon mage Walter. Anyone not joining in? Dead giveaway as a sympathizer. To avoid guilt by association, badmouthing the demon mage was the play.
"What went down here? Spill everything—no lies."
Seizing the moment, the mercenaries launched into their tale. It wasn't complicated.
The Jua Bill Mercenary Corps was made up of leader Jua Bill... and his backers.
"What?"
Ian shot them a baffled look, but the mercenaries brazenly replied.
"The boss ain't the sharpest tool in the shed. Couldn't run a merc group solo, so he had folks helpin' out."
Helping? More like leeching, you idiots...
Put simply, the Jua Bill Mercenary Corps was a bunch of parasites living off leader Jua Bill's brute strength. Dumb as a rock? Sure. But he wasn't mean-spirited. Kind, obedient, strong as hell. Not exploiting that? Might as well wave a sign saying "Not medieval."
True to medieval average form, the mercenaries sent Jua Bill into fights while they pocketed the cash from behind.
"Heh heh."
"..."
From their sleazy grins, they didn't even realize they were in the wrong. Honestly, it wasn't Ian's business to nitpick. This was a medieval fantasy world—not some lawless post-apocalypse. Hell, they deserved thanks for not outright enslaving him. Feeding and housing a dimwit weakling like that? Charity by local standards.
In fact, the mercenaries seemed genuinely proud, like they were Jua Bill's big protectors.
"Then that demon mage bastard wiped out all the corp's officers and turned us into slaves."
"So that's how you ended up squatting on the bridge?"
"Yessir! Mining citrine out here."
What a massive public nuisance. Stepping stones made it fine on normal days, but pouring rain like today? Straight-up roadblock.
"How'd you dodge the local lord?"
The mercenaries stuck to their story of "just mining~," but squatting a perfectly good bridge and causing trouble? No different from bandits. Screwing over merchants and travelers? Same deal. Any upright lord showing up with knights wouldn't be a shock.
"Eh. This is a border zone—no lord claims it."
"..."
Ian let out a deep sigh at the pathetic state of medieval law enforcement. Yeah. Not my turf, no need to bother. Why drag out soldiers for someone else's headache? Let the desperate handle it!
But if word spread about citrine here, lords would swarm like flies. Nobles had a nose for money like no one else.
Mine and bail—that was the plan.
Ian nailed demon mage Walter's scheme. The empire was vast, empty lands plentiful. Nobles squatted everywhere, sure, but overlooked spots existed aplenty. Medieval-era depopulation made it possible. Guys like Walter—hit an empty vein, grab gems, ghost—were a dime a dozen.
Nice spot to find hidden gems. Devil's tip-off?
Ian's curiosity piqued further.
If Walter had been mining citrine, where was the stash?
"Hmm. Where'd you store the mined stones?"
"W-Well..."
One mercenary looked awkward.
"The demon mage's monsters hauled 'em off somewhere."
"Monsters?"
Ian cocked his head slightly but didn't find it odd. Birds of a feather—evil mages teamed up with nasty critters all the time. Back when Ian met that manticore, he rejected its offer and they became enemies. Flip side: accept, and boom—friends.
Walter was the type to casually murder for black magic power, so allying with some wicked beast? Par for the course.
"Hmmm..."
Curious. Really curious!
Ian struggled to suppress that classic mage itch. Citrine made killer catalysts for magic circles. Bulk mining screamed war stockpile—not training supplies. You'd just buy from merchants for that. What lunatic conquers a merc corp to dig your own?
Worth tracking down.
Ian figured investigating the missing citrine was smart. Stones like that? Handy in a pinch. Draw circles, trade with nobles. Might even ransom Inglion with a haul.
But first, tidy up.
He'd need the mercenaries' help to hunt it down. Problem: the Jua Bill Mercenary Corps was a total mess right now. Ian decided to start by calming the boss.
Mercenary leader Jua Bill was bawling like a toddler.
"Waaah~!"
"..."
Watching a grown-ass man flop on the ground sniveling? Straight-up cringe. No forehead sticker needed—his idiocy screamed loud and clear.
"The demon mage stole your souls?"
"Y-Yes... that's right."
The mercenaries answered glumly. Not as bad as Jua Bill, but they were fretting too.
As a scholar, Ian felt pure curiosity bubble up. Soul theft? What the hell did that even mean?
From what he knew, church souls went to heaven post-death for judgment: sinners to hell, good folk to paradise luxury.
How do you hijack a soul?
Ian had no clue. Eredis never taught it, and he'd never cared. Necromancy studies might cover it... but no necro teacher yet.
"That demon mage bastard gathered us at night, summoned a devil. Said we'd offered our souls to it—work hard or no take-backs..."
"Hmm."
Ian tilted his head. Devils were evil, soul-hungry sure. But handing over someone else's soul like that? Possible?
Sounds bogus.
Souls had ironclad body shields. Easiest grab? Kill the host. But these guys were alive and kicking. Not sacrificed... plucked souls from living bodies?
"Come here a sec."
"Y-Yes sir!"
Ian scanned the mercenary with divine magic. Devil-tainted or soul-messed? Something'd ping.
But...
"???"
The soul was pristine.
"M-Mage sir."
The clueless mercenary made a sad frog face, moping.
"Am... am I gonna die now?"
"...!"
Claimed souls stolen, but totally fine? Only one answer.
Not some kind demon returning them post-Walter... nah. Never taken at all!
This is straight-up...
Ian paused, dumbfounded. Classic scam. One he'd pulled on medievals like clockwork.
Mage con artistry!
These poor suckers didn't even know if their souls were gone. Scary devil shows up roaring "Your souls are mine!" They panic: "Wah! Stolen!" Tremble in terror.
Made total sense. No actual plucking from live bodies—just smoke and mirrors.
"Sniff sniff... Wanna see my wife's face back home one last time!"
They acted like soul-loss was terminal cancer. No clue what soulless felt like anyway(...), so freak out first, ask questions never.
Just to be sure, Ian checked Jua Bill.
"Jua Bill?"
"...Whuh?"
The boss mumbled like a troll trying human talk.
Bingo.
Scan complete: spotless. Demon mage Walter had run a massive con on the Jua Bill Mercenary Corps... then croaked.
Typical mage bullshit.
Ian couldn't really judge. Scamming medievals was his signature move(?). Wandering con artist mage? Pot, kettle.
"...Scared of losing your soul?"
Jua Bill's eyes bugged out. He'd written it off, but Ian mentioning souls jolted him!
"M-My soul's already gone, ain't it?"
"Who knows. Maybe?"
Ian's cryptic tease made Jua Bill straighten up, staring at the young man.
Lake-calm eyes. Raven-black hair... otherworldly aura!
No ordinary mage!
"N-No way!"
Jua Bill stammered, yelling.
"Can you get my soul back?!"
He dropped to his knees before Ian.
"Return it and I'll serve you as benefactor forever!"
As Jua Bill freaked, other mercenaries gathered.
All craving the same.
"Aigoo! Mage sir!"
"I wanna make it home alive!"
"Please help us!"
Retrieve the black mage-stolen souls!
Ian sighed deeply.
"Haa... Not an easy fix..."
"...!"
Not impossible—just tough. That sliver lit them up.
Maybe... we can get 'em back!
"Wh-What do ya need?!"
"We'll do anything! Save us, mage sir!"
They clung to Ian's pant legs.
And so, no one caught the eerie smile creeping across Ian's face...