Opal Back Pay and Kobold Whipping
Up until episode 143, what the Juabill Mercenary Corps had been doing was mining opals. Opals were gems consumed as materials for magic circles, but also processed into luxury jewelry.
"But we didn't get a single copper for it, right?"
The mercenaries whined. It was only natural they'd have complaints. If the demon sorcerer Walter needed workers, he could've just bought people with money. But no, he'd taken over the mercenary corps for free labor. So of course he hadn't paid the Juabill Mercenary Corps a dime. The mercenaries had been stewing over it. With Walter—the one who owed them wages—dead, they'd decided to take opals instead of cash.
"Hmm."
Claiming the pay for their hard work was just common sense. Medieval folk or modern people, everyone knew you had to collect your back wages.
"Mage sir, how about... you come with us?" The mercenaries chuckled slyly, trying to rope Ian in to spread the risk of their opal collection run. Ian was a mage. Bringing in top-tier talent like him would skyrocket their success rate.
Didn't they consider I might just swallow it all up myself? Ian shook his head. They probably figured he wasn't the type to pull a heist. And they were right—Ian had returned their souls(?) without asking for anything. Their judgment was spot on. Ian had no intention of scarfing down the opals they'd sweated for and bolting. He'd do his share and take his cut.
Ian consulted briefly with his companions.
"More money's always better."
Belenca agreed flatly.
"As long as it doesn't mess up our schedule."
Kira nodded, on the condition it wouldn't take too long. Ian agreed. He was currently en route to Viscount Vincent's territory to help Inglean. Wasting time opal-hunting only for something to happen to her would turn host into guest.
"We'll scout around once. If we don't find anything, we move on."
"Sounds good."
With the meeting wrapped, Ian rejoined the mercenaries.
# Ian headed into the forest with the mercenaries, where the demon sorcerer had come and gone. The Juabill crew would mine opals by the riverbank and hand them off to his minions in the woods.
"Those minions of the demon sorcerer, sir."
One mercenary blustered dramatically.
"Monsters! Real monsters!"
"What kind?"
The mercenary looked a bit deflated at Ian's deadpan face. He'd hoped to see the great mage freak out! But Ian had traveled too much to jump at a vague "monster." He'd met all sorts, talked to them, even befriended some. A demon sorcerer's lackey? Just another mob to him.
"Uh... kobolds. Ever heard of 'em?"
"Yeah."
Familiar critters. Kobolds popped up often in fantasy worlds, but unlike orcs or elves, they didn't have a fixed look. In this medieval fantasy realm, they were dog-headed, child-sized cannibals. Walking puppies, basically. Kinda cute-looking(...), so locals didn't fear them much. But they had jaws that could rip people apart, kid-level smarts, and pack-hunting habits—enough to cause casualties.
"Kobolds, huh..."
Perfect minions for a mage. Decent brains, big numbers—easy to boss around once dominated. Ian had gotten flocks of birds to handle chores; a kobold handler could accomplish way more.
"We'd gather the opals and hand 'em to the kobolds."
The mercenary chattered on.
"The sorcerer must have a warehouse around here!"
Made sense. Kobolds understood speech but weren't bright enough for complex orders. Guarding opals? Sure. Selling them? No way. The mercenaries were convinced there was a kobold-guarded stash somewhere in the woods.
"Here's the plan."
Ian had them carry baskets full of rocks, then piled broken opal scraps on top.
"Whoa, looks just like a real opal basket!"
"Right?"
It was a classic merchant trick from Ian's modern days: flashy goods on top, junk at the bottom. He'd hoped to brag a bit—something I learned back home—but the mercenaries beat him to it.
"Hey, that's just like the scam artists in our town!"
"Mine was the miller pulling it!"
"I saw it at the fish market!"
Hahaha! The mercs roared with laughter, the mood electric. Ian laughed along. Haha. Humans. How the hell were their con tricks so universal? It was so absurd he couldn't help cracking up.
Anyway. Ian sent them off with fake-opal baskets to meet the kobolds.
The kobolds didn't know demon sorcerer Walter was dead yet. Unless he'd used some device to control them, if it was just brute-force threats, they'd have no clue.
Or do they?
If they'd sniffed it out, the plan was bust. But kobolds emerged into a forest clearing.
"Keeek! Humans!"
"Oh."
Ian blinked. Kid-level intelligence, sure—but they spoke Imperial?
"Shiny! Gimme!"
The kobolds reached for the baskets like always, ignoring why the mercs were there. They just wanted the opals.
Not too bright, confirmed.
Good for orders, but zero initiative.
"Grab 'em."
"Yes sir!"
At Ian's word, the mercenaries charged and nabbed the kobolds. The little beasts yelped in panic.
"Let go! Let go, humans!"
"Don't do this, humans!"
They'd never dreamed of an ambush from the mercs. Walter had kept them safe... until Ian erased him.
"Ian. Gonna interrogate?"
"Obviously."
Belenca grinned, watching from the sidelines. Ian's weird methods were prime entertainment. Her own personal mini-Ian show.
"Hey, kobold pals."
"Kiiing..."
The kobolds whimpered at the sight of him. Good sign—scared targets were easy to cook.
"You took opals from these guys, right?"
"...?"
The kobold tilted its head. Ugh, dense idiots.
"Shinies. The shinies."
"Ah! Shinies!"
"Yeah, those. Where'd you put 'em?"
"..."
The kobolds clammed up. They didn't know what opals were, but knew they mattered—like dogs knowing their master's favorite toy.
"C-can't say..."
"Master! Master comes, then we tell!"
They whined and barked. Mention of Master shot their energy sky-high. They were dead sure Superhero Master would swoop in!
"Tch."
Ian clicked his tongue. Sorry, but... your master's toast. By me.
"Your master's not coming anymore."
"Wh-why?"
"I killed him."
The kobold looked shocked, then barked furiously.
"Kyang! Liar! Master comes back, you die, human!"
"For real, I offed your master."
"Liar! Liar!"
They wouldn't buy it. Loyal? Stupid? Maybe both.
"Fine. Didn't wanna go this route, but..."
Ian cracked his knuckles and stood. All eyes locked on him. The mage was up! Magic time—he'd divine the warehouse!
"Juabill."
"Sir!"
"Hang these pups from a tree."
Juabill grabbed them without hesitation. Tiny kobolds in his two-meter grip looked like prize plushies.
"Kiiing! Kyiiing!"
"Kyaaang!"
They wailed, but Juabill tied them tight, stone-faced. Ian snapped a branch and approached.
Then.
"Where's my opals, Koboldsky!"
"Kyaaaaang!"
Whack! He whipped the kobold with the branch like a switch! It howled in agony as Ian swung relentlessly.
The mercenaries gawked. Uh... okay. The mage was... getting the location, sure, but... this method was... not the "magic" they'd imagined.
But hey, it made info spill—kinda magical?
After Ian's arcane magic (physical), the kobold sobbed out the truth.
"Deep woods! Mossy cave! Past the bat guano pile!"
"Fuck, speak clearly!"
"Kyaaaaang!"
The beating paid off—Ian pinpointed the hidden lair.
Kira scratched her cheek awkwardly.
"I thought you'd use something more... magical."
"Magical how?"
"Y'know, Maronius tongue to chat or whatever..."
Ian shrugged.
"If beating works, why talk?"
"..."
Infuriatingly logical.
"Plus, these are the demon sorcerer's pets. No point sweet-talking monsters."
Ian had learned from manticores: talk only works on the talkable! Better quick and dirty than wasting time persuading kobolds.
It worked—the secret warehouse was right where the kobold said.
"Keeek? Humans?"
"Stay back! Die!"
Guard kobolds bared teeth at the group.
"Juabill. Belenca. Time to work."
Ian crossed his arms leisurely, unleashing his warriors.
"Yessir... on it."
"About time I loosened up."
The massive black-armored dark knight led. The kobolds sensed doom and trembled.