Chapter 233
Chapter 233
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 233
Chapter Title: New Lives in Olivia
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Rumble, rumble!
The cart shook as it moved along. It was loaded with countless people.
"Brother, where are we going...?"
The little girl riding in the cart kept pestering her brother anxiously.
"Don't worry, Jenny. It's called Olivia territory—ruled by a truly great lord."
Jason gave her a gentle smile and stroked his little sister Jenny's hair.
Reassured by his warmth, the anxiety on Jenny's face eased a bit.
"Hee hee. If he's that great... I hope he feeds us well and doesn't hit us."
"...Yeah. I'm sure he will. Don't worry. Look, they even put blankets in the cart so we wouldn't get cold."
Jason brightened his expression to comfort Jenny, then quietly turned his head so she wouldn't see his face.
If she read his own anxiety, she'd only get more worried.
Jason was still young himself, and he'd never imagined his life could change so drastically in an instant.
Just half a year ago, he and Jenny had been living in a small village in the eastern Osiris region, fishing with their parents.
But everything fell apart after the pirate hordes invaded.
The village burned, the adults were killed, and the children—including themselves—were all dragged off somewhere.
He learned later that they'd been taken to the Kingdom of Sharon, infamous for its slave markets.
One by one, his friends were sold off to who-knows-where.
Though he and Jenny were young, they weren't complete fools.
They had ears and had overheard plenty about the fates of those sold from this place.
One day amid their daily terror, orders came to move—not just them and the remaining villagers, but everyone else who'd been brought in from other places too.
'Never before have so many been moved at once.'
That rare occurrence only deepened Jason's unease.
They were headed to Olivia territory, domain of Jerome von Carviot—the name that echoed across the entire continent.
But that knowledge didn't reassure Jason. Even if the treatment wasn't bad.
A figure of that stature needing so many slaves meant it couldn't possibly be anything ordinary.
Jenny, enjoying the head pats, had leaned against his shoulder and drifted off into a light sleep.
Jason stroked her hair as he gazed at the three moons shining in the sky, praying fervently.
'Please, let him be a hero like the rumors say.'
Rumble!
Perhaps because they'd been moving nonstop since passing through the spatial magic circle, Jason—who had dozed off briefly—jolted awake at the cart's sudden stop.
"Jenny, Jenny! Wake up, quick!"
"Mmm, Brother...?"
As Jason shook his still-groggy sister, the cart's door swung open.
Creeeak!
"We've arrived! Everyone, get out!"
At the soldiers' shout guiding the cart, the slaves began climbing out hesitantly, one by one.
"Is this Olivia...?"
"Hmm, it looks even more barren than I heard."
Buzz, buzz!
They tried to whisper, but with so many voices at once, the noise echoed loudly.
Perhaps annoyed by the commotion—
Thud!
"!"
"!"
The massive knight who had led the carts from the front slammed the bottom of his hammer into the ground, instantly silencing the chatter.
"Quiet, all of you! I'm about to explain your future schedules!"
"!"
Everyone, including Jason, gulped at the knight's bellow.
This was the territory of the famed hero, Baron Jerome von Carviot.
What would he have them do?
"Starting from the front cart, you'll enter the lord's castle one group at a time! The administrators there will assign you homes and labor based on your skills, to live as territory residents!"
"......?"
His words didn't quite register. Territory residents? Assign homes and labor?
'What does that mean?'
Whether Jason and the others understood or not, Knight Miron began herding the front group toward the lord's castle.
"Go on in! Once inside, they'll handle registering you as Olivia residents!"
He wasn't one of Jerome's swords—he lacked the silver tongue for that.
But Miron's blunt words brought color to Jason and the slaves' faces.
Territory residents. They'd be registered as such. No more living as slaves.
"Woooaaahhh!!"
Cheers erupted spontaneously.
In the midst of it, Jason hugged Jenny tight and shouted.
"Jenny! We don't have to worry anymore!"
"Mmm, Brother... can't breathe."
"Hahaha! Sorry, sorry!"
Jenny whined, but Jason couldn't hold back the overwhelming emotions surging through him.
Had he laughed so freely since their parents died?
The rumors weren't lies. Jerome von Carviot was a hero.
The back alleys of Sapan territory.
A pair of man and woman stepped into the street thick with the musty scent of the slums.
Robes concealed their bodies, but they couldn't hide the nobility and dignity they exuded.
"Hmm, this slum is surprisingly clean?"
The woman remarked in wonder.
"The Ikenia Kingdom is wealthy as a nation. Plus, the Dudley viscount family is renowned for benevolent rule—they wouldn't neglect the poor."
"Hee."
The pair wandering the alleys while chatting were none other than Jerome and Lampang.
After meeting Victor and chatting with Cain, Jerome had asked about the informant guild. Cain readily wrote a letter of introduction—that was why the two were now prowling Sapan's backstreets.
"Must be someone really important? For a priest to make time like this."
Lampang knew well how busy he was.
To carve out time from stabilizing the territory, it had to pique her curiosity.
"Someone who can perfectly manage Olivia's internal affairs."
Dwain would assist him in naval battles later. To free him for that, he needed to lighten the load on domestic matters now.
"Someone like that exists? Wait, how does the priest even know about her?"
To her question, he just flashed a grin.
"I know everything."
That was all he could say.
Admitting she'd fed the organization he used to be in would get him labeled insane.
Creeeak!
The rickety tavern door opened with a grating screech from its rusty hinges.
"Welcome. What'll it be?"
A grizzled old man trimming ingredients in the kitchen called out from within.
"Fresh sashimi from today's catch sounds good."
The old man's eyes sparkled at the order.
"Ah, no fresh fish came in today."
"Come on, no way. I came here specifically after hearing Mr. Arapaima arrived today."
Mr. Arapaima.
The fish with the continent's toughest scales, a legendary catch only from southern coasts.
Not just tasty, but prized for scales so hard nothing could pierce them—hardly something you'd find in a slum dive.
"...Heh! How do you always know? Come in and pick your cut yourself."
The old man naturally ushered them into the kitchen and led them to the fish storage.
Thud!
The door shut, cutting off all outside noise.
"I've been expecting you, my lord. Young Master Cain instructed us to provide every convenience. As expected of the kingdom's rising young hero."
"...I've heard informant guild members excel at voice modulation, but hearing it in person is truly astonishing."
The voice that emerged from the old man's mouth—matching his weathered look just moments ago—was now vibrant and youthful.
Even seeing it firsthand, the mismatch between face and voice caused cognitive dissonance.
How was this possible with pure technique, no magic or aura?
"Handling information earns us enemies everywhere. It's just a survival trick—your praise is too much, my lord."
The informant bowed deeply at the waist.
"Due to the nature of my duties, I can't show my true face—please understand. What information do you seek?"
Wonder aside, Jerome slowly answered the question.
"I'm looking for a woman. Early to mid-twenties now, with a younger sister. Hair like light green weeds. Not short, sharp with numbers and efficient at handling tasks."
"P-Please wait a moment."
The informant couldn't hide his surprise at the detailed info pouring out.
"With this much... couldn't you find her yourself?"
He scratched his head after jotting it down.
It made sense. Most who came to guilds lacked enough details to search alone, hence hiring experts. Jerome's were too precise.
For a house like the Carviot count's, no need to outsource something this detailed.
"Ah! You don't know her name?"
He tried a reasonable guess, but—
"She used 'Jeremiah' as far as I know, but it could be an alias. Probably is."
"Hmm, no name... that explains it."
He nodded as if it clicked.
"Even though she's from Ikenia, shamefully, we couldn't find her in the north. So I had no choice but to seek the guild's help, haha."
"If the name you know is fake, couldn't the country be wrong too?"
Jerome affirmed the origin firmly.
"No, the kingdom is definitely Ikenia. No doubt there."
Stigma Mercenary Corps rules: Hide names if you must, but never lie about your nation.
Couldn't have imperial spies infiltrating and stirring chaos.
The country was certain. Jeremiah hailed from Ikenia Kingdom.
"Understood. We'll search based on this."
Thud!
"Even with your clear details, no name means it'll take time—and considerable expense."
The informant closed the file cautiously.
Cain's heads-up probably made him wary.
"Money's no issue. Name your price, and I'll match it."
His bold assurance left the informant's jaw dropping.
But Jerome wasn't done.
"I'll give you a month. Shave off one day, and I'll add 50 gold per day early."
"F-Fifty?! 50 gold?"
Ten days: 500 gold.
Bantern's annual budget was once 2,000-3,000 gold. This was beyond generous—insane.
"Only if it's the person I'm after, of course."
"We'll do our utmost!"
The informant bent at a perfect right angle, nearly touching his legs.
Not high-risk—just one ordinary woman.
This bounty for such a task? The branch would halt all else.
Creeeak!
"Priest, are you insane? Money rotting away? 50 gold extra per day to find one person?"
Lampang, a commoner(?) who'd handled every dirty job caring for Karma, couldn't fathom Jerome's lavish spending.
"She's worth it."
"You're crazy. All rich kids like this?"
Lampang grumbled the whole way back to Olivia, but Jerome's thoughts were the opposite.
The woman who'd turned the near-bankrupt Stigma Mercenary Corps into holders of a top-tier continental megacorp, the Carlos Merchant Group.
Like Saladin, the vice-leader, she'd solidly supported them as the merchant group's vice-head.
The Golden Mountain Queen, Jeremiah. If 50 gold hastened meeting her by a day, it was pocket change.
She could multiply it hundreds, thousands-fold.
With Sharon resolved and all focus on stabilizing Olivia,
her talents were more crucial than ever.
'Show up soon, Jeremiah. At this rate, Dwain's a goner.'
With that small wish, he headed for Sapan's spatial magic circle.
Time to return to Olivia.