Chapter 31: Recruitment (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 31: Recruitment (4)
The day before the test.
Baron Romero sipped from a delicate teacup that ill-suited his massive frame as he listened to Knight Commander Jonathan's report.
"All preparations for the test are complete. We will only provide a minimal force for crowd control, and we have agreed that Young Master Roman will handle the overall execution of the exam."
"Is it already time?"
"Yes, my lord. Due to the influx of applicants for the private soldier positions, the number of visitors to the estate has risen sharply since early this morning."
"Is that so?"
Baron Romero recalled the moment he first heard of this plan.
Even then, rather than considering its feasibility, he had found the very idea of raising private soldiers absurd.
'Roman told me he wanted to raise private soldiers for himself, not for the Dmitry family. That is something strictly taboo in the world of nobles. When the matter of succession has yet to be resolved, granting personal military power to a single son is a choice that could lead to irreversible consequences.'
And yet, Baron Romero had readily agreed.
Although the general consensus was that Dmitry's second son should succeed the family rather than the eldest, and paying eight silver a month to thirty soldiers was no small expense, he hadn't even asked Roman his purpose.
In truth, Roman's recent actions had been utterly incomprehensible.
When Romero heard that Roman had broken off his engagement with the Lawrence family only to attend Barco's social party, he assumed Roman was trying to ally with Barco using his past connections. For the future succession—to push aside the second son and seize power—Barco's support would be a highly attractive card.
But the outcome was entirely different.
Right in front of the nobles of the Northeast Association, and despite Antony Barco's attempts to stop him, Roman had slapped a knight across the face.
He had crossed the line.
Antony Barco was a petty, narrow-minded man; he was bound to harbor a grudge against Roman for humiliating him. He wouldn't be able to threaten Roman directly—that was how powerful Dmitry's backing was—but Antony Barco had plenty of other ways to exact revenge.
For example, he could interfere in the succession.
If Barco sided with the second son, Roman would be stripped of his right to succeed due to internal and external pressure.
That was exactly why Baron Romero had granted Roman's request.
Roman Dmitry, who had spent over a decade tarnishing his reputation as the Fool of Dmitry, had finally begun to live an independent life, starting with the Blood Fang incident. Romero wanted to watch over him. Though he knew the gap between Roman and the second son in the succession race was vast, he still wanted to let Roman do whatever he wished.
It was the heart of a father.
He couldn't help but root for the child who weighed heaviest on his mind. After all, his second son was already living the life of a true elite, his talents recognized even in the capital.
Baron Romero spoke.
"So, how many applicants are there? Fifty? A hundred? Considering Roman's reputation, we'd be lucky if it's over fifty. Becoming a private soldier for an individual rather than a noble family isn't something people usually find appealing."
He was right.
Private soldiers. Just as the term implied, a role dedicated to an individual's private affairs was not a preferred occupation. It was entirely different from being a soldier of a noble family. While soldiers raised under the pretext of defending a territory enjoyed stable jobs, private soldiers were easily discarded depending on their master's circumstances.
Fifty at best.
That was Baron Romero's expectation. He believed there wouldn't even be enough people wishing to become private soldiers to warrant a formal test.
However, Jonathan shook his head.
"According to the guards' entry logs, over two hundred people have already arrived in Dmitry specifically for the private soldier test. And today isn't even the day of the exam. At this rate, we estimate that at least five hundred people will take the test tomorrow."
Five hundred.
At this unimaginable number, Baron Romero froze mid-sip, his teacup hovering near his lips.
"...That many?"
Suddenly, Baron Romero realized that he was still underestimating his son.
*
At that exact moment, the taverns of Dmitry were absolutely packed.
Inside a crowded tavern, Lucas sat at the bar, downing a mug of beer.
Thud.
"Ahhh."
It went down beautifully.
Grimacing slightly at the characteristic heavy, dry finish of Dmitry's dark ale, Lucas carefully scanned his surroundings.
'To think people are crowding in like this a full day before the test. There will be far more applicants than I expected. But the problem isn't just the sheer number—the caliber of those applying is surprisingly high.'
This recruitment drive was for ordinary soldiers.
Although eight silver a month was decent compensation, there was no reason for battle-hardened veterans like himself to apply. The only reason Lucas had come was out of sheer curiosity regarding Roman Dmitry. He wanted to see for himself how much the man once called the Fool of Dmitry had changed, and whether he truly valued his people as the rumors claimed.
Therefore, Lucas was an anomaly.
He had expected mostly ordinary commoners to apply, but he had already spotted several surprisingly capable fighters.
'Those three men boisterously chatting at the corner table... Judging by the bronze badges hanging from their waists, they're likely C-Rank Mercenaries. And those guys drinking side-by-side at the bar... They don't look like mercenaries, but their builds and postures alone show they're experienced fighters.'
This tavern was just one of many in Dmitry.
Yet, if five or six highly capable applicants could be spotted in this small space alone, the overall caliber of the candidates far exceeded expectations. Of course, even so, he saw no one who surpassed him. In the mercenary world, the gap between a B-Rank and a C-Rank was immense, and he was a valuable asset who would be welcomed anywhere.
Lucas was puzzled.
Why on earth?
He could understand the commoners, but why were men who made a living by the sword applying to be private soldiers?
He didn't think it was purely because of the rumors.
It was certainly impressive that Roman had changed the lives of the Clark family and valued Kevin enough to severely punish a knight of the Barco family. But in the end, the most important factor for mercenaries was money. A monthly wage of eight silver was only appealing to the desperate; it was not an offer that would tempt men of his kind.
'I just don't get it.'
Gulp, gulp.
He drained the rest of his drink. Just as he was about to get up and leave, a voice caught his attention.
"Henderson. Why are you here when you said you were going to become a soldier for the Lawrence family?"
It was a conversation between two men nearby. Lucas quietly sat back down and listened closely.
The story went as follows:
The man named Henderson was from Lawrence. In preparation for war with the Barco family, Lawrence had initiated a conscription of its residents. Consequently, most able-bodied men had answered the call. Until recently, Henderson had naturally intended to fight for Lawrence, but a single incident had completely changed his mind.
Henderson spoke.
"As you know, I was planning to enlist even though I wasn't subject to the draft. If Lawrence—my hometown and livelihood—fell, my life wouldn't have any meaning anyway. But my mind changed after I saw Roman Dmitry subjugate the Blood Fang in Lawrence. I realized that he is a true leader."
That day, Henderson had been one of the people in the square.
It was a revelation.
A young master of a noble family, who must have been raised in luxury since childhood, had appeared drenched in blood right before the eyes of the commoners. Roman had dragged Ben Miles by his hair with one hand. Knowing just how dangerous Ben Miles was, people like Henderson had held their breath in that highly volatile situation.
And then, Roman executed Ben Miles.
Those who weren't there couldn't believe the events of that day, but Henderson could never forget that moment.
"The Blood Fang extended their evil clutches even to Dmitry. They cast Dmitry's people into the abyss with their filthy schemes, and they even showed intent to kill me for interfering. The Blood Fang's guilt is clear. Therefore, before your very eyes, I shall tear out the root of this evil."
Roman had declared that he had come all the way to Lawrence and drawn his sword to punish the Blood Fang for touching the people of Dmitry.
Blood splattered.
Ben Miles's head flew off.
While young children screamed and shut their eyes tight, Henderson witnessed the blood-spattered scene with absolute clarity.
'Ah.'
A shiver ran down his spine.
Look at Roman! A leader who draws his sword for his people! To think such a man existed in this world!
His face flushed with excitement as he spoke of that moment, and Henderson explained why he hoped to become Roman's private soldier.
"People doubt and deny what happened in Lawrence. They think there's no way Roman Dmitry could do such a thing. But I saw it and felt it myself. Roman Dmitry is not the weakling the rumors make him out to be; he is a leader who will truly fight for his people. This recruitment is a golden opportunity to become one of his men. I want to pass the test, obtain citizenship in Dmitry, and live as Roman Dmitry's man."
A reputation that had once hit rock bottom.
Upon it, new stories were being piled layer by layer.
The subjugation of the Blood Fang.
The Clark family.
Kevin's incident.
The reason people flocked to Roman's name was not because of a single event, but the synergy of all these incidents combined.
People thought: If it's Roman, wouldn't he be worthy of our loyalty?
He rewarded loyalty with proper treatment, valued his people, and did not hesitate to draw his sword even when facing an evil syndicate like the Blood Fang. They couldn't help but apply. Even those who believed their worth was far greater than eight silver felt their blood boil as they heard Roman's story.
This recruitment frenzy was no accident.
People had eyes and ears. And so, Roman's true worth was slowly rising to the surface.
*
The day of the test.
Dawn broke.
In the testing ground, bustling with countless people, Lucas was still lost in his own thoughts.
'If everything I heard is true... what choice should I make?'
In this place, the others were no different.
Those who had applied with half-doubts would soon face the truth about Roman. That would be the moment of choice—whether to take the test seriously, or to just test the waters and back out.
Having spent his entire life rolling around the frontlines to earn his B-Rank Mercenary badge, Lucas seriously pondered whether it was worth investing his life for a measly eight silver. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have given such terms a second glance. Yet, Lucas's instincts—the very instincts that had kept him alive to become a B-Rank Mercenary—had guided him to this testing ground.
The testing ground was deafening.
There were at least five hundred people. With no one to restrain them, the massive crowd chattered noisily, turning the area into a bustling marketplace.
"Bwahahahaha!"
"Did that really happen?"
"Let's go grab a beer after the test!"
It was then.
No one told them to stop, nor did anyone shut them up. Yet, the clamor suddenly died down.
As the noise vanished from one side like the ground collapsing beneath it, people's gazes naturally turned in that direction.
Lucas was no exception.
The moment he turned his gaze...
"...!"
His breath caught in his throat.
His hair stood on end.
The frontlines, where men fought with their lives on the line. As an extreme tension that one would only feel in such a place washed over him, Lucas bowed his head without even realizing it.
He felt like he had to.
A single man.
Just from his appearance, just from his stride.
Lucas, like everyone else, bowed his head to welcome him.
'The rumors were true.'
Roman Dmitry.
He emerged through the crowd.