Chapter 37
Chapter 37
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: The Grand Duke's Heir Has Run Away
-----------------------------------------------------------------
< 폴킨 관문에서 벌어진 조용한 혈사. >
Even as the Traveler's Rest headed into the deep wee hours of the morning, it was rowdy as ever. The constant clinking of glasses from the inn lobby suggested they were deep into their own drinking party, while the hoarse shouts from upstairs hinted at a private gambling den in full swing.
Damn, talk about having all the luck in the world. Suspiciously so.
Inside the outdoor privy right next to the Traveler's Rest, a hairy mercenary with his pants half-down was choking and flailing his legs in midair. He'd come to take a dump, only to get snared by a noose dangling from a roof support beam.
As soon as the mercenary's breathing stopped, I rifled through his pockets for money and his ID tag, then dumped him into the toilet pit below.
His armored body sank slowly into the shit-filled depths. It was deep enough that not even a single hair was visible once he went under.
I tossed an empty liquor bottle on top.
Now the story was: he got drunk, stumbled into the outhouse, slipped, and drowned in the pit. Sure, there'd be some ligature marks on his neck, but given the Folkin Pass commander's temperament, he'd probably rule it an accidental drowning. Or not—whatever.
"One more down..."
I whistled as I stepped out of the privy, only to bump into another mercenary heading in. A annoyingly handsome young guy.
I slipped behind him, locked my forearm around his throat, dragged him inside, and choked him out.
Once the looting was done, I yanked his pants down to his ankles and shoved him into the same pit as the hairy one. Then I stomped hard on part of the wooden floor over the toilet, smashing a big hole in it.
Story updated and perfection achieved.
These two had been locked in a passionate forbidden love when the toilet collapsed, sending them both to their deaths. The neck marks? Just part of their masochistic kink—no big deal.
I offered a moment of silence. Such a beautiful, noble love, cut tragically short. Truly heartbreaking.
As I turned to leave again, another middle-aged mercenary came rushing toward the privy, clearly desperate for relief.
Oh, right. That tragic love story from moments ago? It had a shocking twist: it was a threesome.
"This spot's done for now."
I stepped outside after wrapping up. I'd toyed with the idea of sticking around for a foursome or fivesome, but the plot started straining credibility. This privy was way too cramped for four-plus people anyway.
Turning the corner onto the main road in front of the Traveler's Rest, I spotted a lone mercenary sitting by the inn door. Probably out for some fresh air.
He caught my eye since he was alone, but a few drunken stragglers on the street made him too risky.
'Or maybe I could let him slide?'
I eyed a pair of patrolling soldiers with spears approaching from afar. They sparked an idea: something I could try, where failure meant a quick apology, but success meant sending one off effortlessly.
I timed my casual stroll perfectly, brushing between them just as a patrolman passed the mercenary—and nudged the spear shaft with my foot.
The spear tip spun wildly. Its sharp point traced a bizarre arc and, carried by the soldier's momentum, pierced right through the fresh-air mercenary's throat.
The mercenary clutched the embedded spear, gurgling blood. The patrolman, stunned by the freak accident, rushed to support him.
Meanwhile, I melted into a dark alley.
As I approached, Armida unni, waiting in front of the temple, waved me over with a smile.
"Little bro. Come on over."
"Yeah. No other issues, right?"
"Nope. All clear."
"What about mercenaries wandering outside?"
"None left. The ones inside the inn are all that's remaining."
I pulled a scrap of paper from my pocket and checked off the tally. Seven mercenaries I'd scared off beyond the west gate with a not-quite-threat. Four staged as accidental drownings in wells or privies. Five teleported to the Hall of Divinity after elimination. Total: sixteen down. And only a little over twenty left.
While we'd taken out sixteen, nearly as many had bolted on their own.
Armida unni approached with an incredulous look.
"But how did so many of them just run off like that?"
I folded the paper and tucked it away.
"Happens all the time. Their boss ditched hundreds of underlings and snuck away in the night. The pass is sealed tight—no escape. Add in the weird vibe, and a few guys vanishing quietly? Panic spreads like wildfire."
"Really?"
"Yep. That's just how mercenaries roll."
Armida unni looked somewhat convinced.
"Still, doesn't Alon have some loyalty from them? Over twenty are still hanging around."
I let out a hollow chuckle. This unni was too pure for her own good.
"You think they're sticking around out of loyalty?"
"Isn't it?"
"Maybe a few. But most? Nah."
"Then why stay?"
"They're eyeing the money Alon's holding. Feels too stuffy to just bail outright, and he's got enough coin to change their fortunes. Mercs can't walk away from that."
Armida unni's eyes went wide.
"For real?"
"Exactly why we need to wrap this up fast. Drag it out, and Alon's head rolls. Nearly thirty comrades gone, and they're still boozing and gambling? Doesn't add up. They're playing possum to lower his guard."
"Whoa~."
I headed back to the Traveler's Rest, beckoning her along.
"Hurry up. No time to waste. If Alon dies, we're in deep shit."
"Got it. Coming."
I led Armida unni to the inn. Time to finish this. I had her cast a soundproofing spell over the whole place, then systematically took out the guys passed out in rooms, followed by the gamblers and drinkers.
The fallen mercenaries were honorably laid to rest in the Hall of Divinity, courtesy of Valkyrie unni herself.
Dawn was creeping in. The Traveler's Rest, rowdy all yesterday, was eerily silent now—like a ghost town.
Alon tossed fitfully in bed during a catnap. But a sinister scraping sound from somewhere in the room made him crack open one eye.
Scrrring. Scrrring. A veteran mercenary like him knew it instantly: the sound of a blade being whetted.
Accepting his fate, Alon bolted upright and snatched the sword hidden by his bedside.
"You bastards! I knew you'd betray me sooner or...
From the shadowed corner, I grinned inwardly and waved cheerily.
"It's me. You know, right? Long time no see. How've you been?"
Alon freaked, flailing so hard the blankets flew.
"M-Mask?!"
"Sorry for waking you—you were sleeping so soundly. Go back to bed if you're tired. It'll take a bit to finish sharpening anyway."
"N-No, sir."
"Good. Then sit tight on the bed and watch quietly."
I ignored him, splashed water on the whetstone, and resumed honing Yojjo. It wouldn't get any sharper, but that wasn't the point.
Alon mustered his courage, drew his sword, and bellowed desperately for his men.
"Guys!"
I rubbed my ear at the noise.
"Quit yelling. No one's coming, no matter how loud."
"Huh? Why not?"
"They've all gone ahead."
"Where to?"
I flashed a creepy smile his way.
"Where do you think?"
Alon's face drained of color as he slumped. In a hoarse whisper, he pleaded:
"Master. What brings you here?"
"Something serious. Some asshole's been spreading vicious rumors about me in Kara and fleeing this way. Says I'm just a thug who only knows threats and a cruel murderer. How do you think that makes an innocent, kind-hearted master like me feel? Turned me into some psycho in their eyes. Of course I'm pissed."
Alon wiped his face.
"Who the hell is this guy?"
"Oh, he's there. A real dickhead."
"Master? How can anyone be that much of a dick?"
Huh, trading jokes even now. True to form for a battle-hardened merc captain.
"You wouldn't get it. But people can turn into total dicks if you carve 'em right. Don't worry—I'll slice you up with a mother's loving care. Just enough to make you perfectly dick-sized, okay?"
I stood with Yojjo in hand, and Alon scrambled back in terror.
"M-Master?"
"And I'll leave your junk intact. Even I couldn't bring myself to cut that off—man's gotta have standards. Whoever finds you can peddle it or toss it in the trash."
Sensing his gruesome end, Alon dropped his sword and prostrated himself flat.
"Master, I was wrong. Please spare me. I swear I'll never forget this mercy."
"Too late to turn back. My rep's already in the gutter. Folks in Kara scatter like I'm a murderer whenever they see me. Can't even show my face."
"Then let me go to Kara and clear the rumors. If I, the culprit, defend you vehemently, they'll believe you're innocent."
There it was. I feigned mild interest.
"That could work, but I'd have to trust you first. Let's start by chopping a finger. Pain keeps promises snappy."
As I reached for his hand, Alon yanked it back and begged loudly.
"I'll keep my word, I swear! Please..."
"Quit whining. Losing a finger won't kill you. Spit on it, blow on it, good as new."
Alon's face crumpled. He shot me a look like, What bullshit is this?
"Master... why keep messing with me? I'll go. I will."
"You serious?"
"Yes."
"When do you head to Kara?"
Alon lifted his head slightly.
"Can it wait a bit? Things are tight for me right now."
"Fine, then. Dick time it is."
"No! I'll go as soon as the pass opens today!"
Alon broke into sobs. Perfect emotional state.
"You sure?"
"Yes. But one request."
"What?"
"The Kasim Bandits are after me. If they catch me, I'm done for. Protect me for a while. With you guarding me, even they won't dare."
I scratched my nose, annoyed. This job wasn't hard, but the headaches never ended. Client or culprit, they all tacked on annoying strings.
Part of me wanted to just beat him senseless and drag him off, but considering my schedule, offing him now felt wasteful. A lingering attachment, if you will.
Truth be told, Alon's merc band had pulled off something huge today: invading the Hall of Divinity and leaving dozens of bodies. An outrage that'd incense the whole world—the Divinum Main Temple would hunt their leader with fire in their eyes.
Handing over Alon's head then could net a fortune.
"Too much hassle for that, but I'll write a letter."
"What kind?"
"Something like, 'Spare him for my sake.' If they won't buy it, me, Uncle Zenbe, and a super scary unni will come collecting kids one by one. Won't be pretty."
Code for wiping them all out. Alon smacked his lips, weighing it.
"Not bad, but will they believe the letter?"
"They'd better. I'll sign it myself, and it'll come true if they don't. Honestly, I'm curious how much those desert bandits are packing anyway..."
"Alright. I trust you, Master."
Alon caved. Better to gamble than die here.
Mission complete without a hitch—I grinned wide. Damn satisfying. Fruits of honest labor taste the sweetest.
"Sweet. Time to move. Sun's coming up."
I had Armida unni tag Alon with a tracking spell. Handy for finding him later.
As the pass gates opened at dawn, I stripped Alon of every coin and handed it to the escorts. He raged about betrayal and curses, but groveled humbly once Yojjo came out.
Haul: base fee 800 leaf gold, extra 150 for add-ons, plus 1,053 leaf gold looted from Alon's band. Total: 2,003 leaf gold.
Solid earnings. On par with that Preyker hunt last time.
Alon's crew: long-time Kara vets, so plenty of padding.
< 폴킨 관문에서 벌어진 조용한 혈사. > 끝