Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: The Traitor Among the Dwarves
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“…!”
Just like everyone else who had experienced Sion’s killing intent up to now, the remaining mercenaries froze in place like prey animals facing the roar of a great tiger, pissing themselves on the spot.
“Urgh… ugh…”
Amid the mercenaries who were drooling with their mouths agape, overwhelmed by the killing intent, the black steed strolled casually as if out for a walk.
And atop it, Sion lightly swung his sword, granting the mercenaries eternal rest.
But he spared three.
After taking the lives of all the mercenaries except those three, Sion released his killing intent.
“Huhk!”
Only then could the mercenaries breathe properly, and they collapsed straight to the ground.
With faces turned blue, gasping for breath repeatedly, the mercenaries still wore expressions of sheer terror.
They couldn’t even think of picking up the weapons they had dropped on the ground.
In front of this incomprehensible monster who had butchered their comrades in an instant with unprecedented power, they were nothing.
“P-Please spare us!”
“K-Knight, sir!”
Surviving as a mercenary for a long time meant not only having decent skill but also good luck and quick wits.
The three survivors thanked their luck and quickly prostrated themselves.
Sion looked down at the three mercenaries before turning his head.
“You there. Iron Mountain scout buddy.”
“Me? Ye called fer me?”
Not as directly exposed to the killing intent as the mercenaries, but still shocked by Sion’s overwhelming force, the dwarf jumped in surprise at the call directed at him and scurried over.
“Use these guys to round up your scout comrades first. Looks like a couple of them need emergency treatment right away or they’ll end up crippled, so hurry. You three, move now too.”
“Yes, aye!”
The dwarf and mercenaries snapped to attention and moved quickly. With the released dwarves joining in, the area was sorted out in no time.
The mercenaries’ corpses were piled in one spot, and the uninjured dwarves gathered all their armor and belongings.
Soon, after finishing the cleanup of the battlefield, the dwarves crept up to Sion, eyeing him cautiously.
“We’re mighty grateful fer the help. All their gear and stuff’s yers now, sir. Ah! And I’m Langrif o’ Iron Mountain.”
It was a highly distinctive accent, but Sion, familiar with dwarven dialects, paid it no mind and replied.
“I’m Sion.”
At those words, the dwarves’ faces lit up.
“Knew it!”
“See? Told ye it’s the one from Sion.”
“Woo-ee! A rare guest after all this time.”
“Thanks! Truly thanks!”
The dwarves surrounded Sion as he dismounted and bowed repeatedly.
Unlike elves, who showed almost no emotional shifts, dwarves were incredibly honest in expressing their feelings.
Moreover, while they were paranoid to the point of obsession about their own affairs, their personalities were straightforward and, in some ways, remarkably simple.
“But why’d ye spare those bastards? Best ta lop their heads off right now, aye?”
At Langrif’s words, the gazes of the Iron Mountain scout dwarves snapped toward the three survivors, who were tied up like dried fish.
Facing the dwarves’ blazing eyes full of murderous intent, the three mercenaries hurriedly shouted.
“Sp-Spare us!”
“We didn’t mean ta kill! We didn’t kill a single one!”
“Ye see them tossin’ the wee ones inta the furnace?”
“Best ta start by choppin’ off their hands an’ feet!”
As the enraged dwarves spat and rolled up their sleeves, Sion stepped in.
“Calm down. It’s true they had no intention of killing the dwarf buddies.”
“Hrm! If the benefactor from Sion says so.”
“Aye, the right ta deal with ’em belongs ta the benefactor.”
True to their nature of being precise with favors and debts, the dwarves quickly cooled off.
Since Sion had dealt with the mercenaries to help the dwarves, it was his call what to do with the three he’d spared.
“Let’s head to Iron Mountain first. I came because I have business there too. Load the wounded on my horse.”
At Sion’s words, the dwarves expressed great gratitude, unloaded the baggage from Yellowie, and helped their comrades with leg and arm injuries aboard.
The dwarves, sharing Sion’s baggage, were about to set off toward Iron Mountain, leading the three spared prisoners ahead.
Then Sion spoke up again.
“I’ll take these ones with me. I spared them because I have some questions.”
“Aye, suit yerself.”
The dwarves complied without argument, and Sion took up the rear with the three mercenaries.
‘F-Fuck, we’re screwed.’
The mercenaries, who had felt relief at surviving for the moment, turned ashen again.
Seeing Sion’s coldly sunken gaze brought back the scene from just dozens of minutes ago, where he had expressionlessly crushed and sliced their comrades.
“Hey.”
“Hngya!”
The highly tense mercenary let out a weird noise. As the dwarves turned back with twisted expressions, Sion said lowly.
“First, answer quietly from now on. Second, I don’t ask the same question twice. Third, when I ask a question and count to three, answer simultaneously. Fourth, the one who’s late to answer dies. All understood? One, two, three.”
“Yes, sir!”
The quick-witted mercenaries answered almost in unison.
“Good. First question. What’s your mercenary group’s name? One, two, three.”
“Polymos Mercenary Corps.”
“Is Polymos the name of your mercenary captain? One, two, three.”
“Yes.”
“Who commissioned you to raid the Iron Mountain dwarves? One, two, three.”
“We don’t know.”
“Among the ones I killed, was there anyone who knew the client? One, two, three.”
“Yes.”
“Was that guy the one hit by the knife I threw and killed? One, two, three.”
“Yes.”
“Who was that guy? One, two, three.”
“Rud Polymos.”
“The captain’s brother.”
“The vice-captain.”
Different answers came out, and the mercenaries paled instantly.
But Sion had deliberately led them to this, so he didn’t mind.
“So Rud Polymos was the vice-captain and the captain’s brother.”
“Yes.”
Though he didn’t count, the mercenaries answered immediately. With this, Sion had gleaned important information.
Even if they didn’t know who the client was, the dwarf raid was important enough that the mercenary corps’ vice-captain—the captain’s brother—had joined personally.
‘Well, raiding a mine inside a dukedom isn’t your average job.’
This was someone with guts spilling out of their belly.
But not just anyone could pull off something this massive.
From Sion’s experience, nine times out of ten, those with guts spilling out had money, power, and backing.
They only dared because they believed no one could touch their exposed guts.
“For now, last question.”
Tension crept onto the mercenaries’ faces. Unless they were fools, they knew this was the most crucial one.
“Why did you subdue the dwarf scouts instead of killing them? One, two, three.”
This time, he counted a bit slowly on purpose. It wasn’t a yes/no or short-answer question.
And as Sion expected, the three mercenaries spoke simultaneously.
“The client said we’d negotiate with the dwarves.”
“The vice-captain said killing them would cause problems.”
“It was Vice-Captain Rud’s orders.”
Sion’s gaze turned to the one who answered just a fraction late.
His answer was the shortest, yet the latest. And while the other two gave similar responses, this one pinned it solely on the dead vice-captain.
A cold smile tugged at Sion’s lips.
“You’re the one, huh? The highest-ranking among the three?”
“Hik!”
The singled-out mercenary turned pale.
“Langrif.”
At Sion’s call, Langrif scurried back from ahead.
“Leave these two to the dwarves. I only need this one.”
“Got it! Move it, ye scum!”
Langrif prodded their asses with his spear, and the two mercenaries yelped in pain as they quickened their pace.
Sion cast an indifferent gaze at the remaining mercenary.
“You’d better answer well from now on. Whether you just get poked in the ass like them or your ass gets separated from your body depends on your answers.”
“Y-Yes.”
Sion’s questions came one after another to the mercenary gulping dryly.
“What’s the most recent area where the Polymos Mercenary Corps was stationed?”
“Name the last three commissions you took before this one, and their clients.”
“How did you get here?”
With the other two gone and only one left, he didn’t bother counting.
The mercenary understood well why this unfathomable being had left him alone.
If he didn’t answer properly from now on, he’d be killed in one stroke, so he wrung out everything he knew in response to Sion’s questions.
After several minutes of the mercenary’s tearful brain-wracking.
Due to the aftereffects of overusing his seldom-used brain, the mercenary started repeating himself.
At this point, it meant he’d spilled everything, so Sion called Langrif again, and Langrif dragged the last mercenary forward by prodding his ass.
“Ugh! Kgh!”
Though he groaned from the sharp pain, the mercenary’s expression looked much more relieved, freed from Sion’s piercing gaze and questions.
A sneer crossed Sion’s face as he stared at the mercenary’s retreating back.
“This is interesting.”
This had happened on his way to visit the Iron Mountain dwarves.
What an absurd coincidence?
“It’s no coincidence.”
That’s what he’d learned from interrogating the mercenary.
It was far from coincidence.
This was part of someone’s meticulously laid plan.
And that plan was connected to Yonas and Sirban coming to August Territory to find him and Piort.
Excluding the dead vice-captain Rud Polymos, no one knew the client’s identity, but the interrogation narrowed the candidates down to just two factions.
And it didn’t matter to Sion which of the two it was. They were practically one and the same.
“This guy Gede. Craving a title so much he drags in his wife’s family?”
Gede Sion, one of Sion’s great-grandsons and Yonas’s half-brother.
His wife’s family was the Pamell Count family, who long ago had tried invading across the Silent Forest, suffered terribly, and surrendered to the Sion Dukedom.
The Pamell Counts, who had become a “subordinate” of the Sion Ducal family generations ago like August Territory, cooperating with Gede Sion in aiming for the ducal seat was perhaps inevitable.
Sion hadn’t included the Pamell Count family in Jenna’s investigation orders alongside the Sion Ducal family for no reason.
A neighboring great territory family that became a subordinate against their will.
Moreover, it had been so long since Sion thrashed them that their memory of how painfully they’d been beaten into submission had likely faded.
No, it was over 50 years ago, so maybe no one even remembered.
“That’s why they got cocky and let their guts spill out.”
The Pamell Counts were on the list to be investigated and crushed if guilty anyway.
He’d planned to wrap up the Iron Mountain dwarves matter first and then head there to dig up dirt, but evidence had popped up already.
“Even better.”
Plus, compiling the info from the mercenary suggested the Pamell Counts weren’t the only ones involved this time.
To have guts spilling out, you need money, power, and backing. And Gede Sion was part of the Pamell Counts’ backing.
But even as a key direct line of the ducal family and ruler of the port city Paloma, Gede couldn’t plan and execute shaking the Iron Mountain dwarves alone.
Nor was the great-grandson Gede that Sion knew stupid enough.
So the conclusion was one.
“There’s a traitor among the Iron Mountain dwarves too.”
(To be continued in the next part)