The Escort Business Blooms
The stronghold's office, once a dingy bandit den, was no longer recognizable. On the desk touched by Veronica's hand lay neatly organized stacks of documents and a detailed map offering a complete view of the entire forest. Her eyes gleamed with a sharpness that had long surpassed the role of a mere bandit camp administrator—they were the eyes of a true business executive steering a massive enterprise.
In contrast, the owner of this stronghold and former Mercenary King who once commanded the continent, Rodin, was slumped half over the desk, idly flipping through nothing but a cabbage seed catalog.
“Hey, princess. Just collecting tolls is enough for us to eat and buy cabbage fertilizer. Why bother expanding the business? More people means more dust flying around everywhere. What a pain.”
At Rodin's lazy, grumbling complaint, Veronica sharply tapped a spot on the map with her baton.
“Mister Rodin, tolls are merely our base income. What merchants fear most isn’t paying the toll—it’s getting robbed by forest monsters or other bandits even after they’ve paid. Resolving that anxiety for our customers is the very core of this business.”
“So? You want me to walk beside their wagons, sweating the whole way? I have to thin out the cabbages tomorrow. I’m busy.”
“You won’t need to lift a finger yourself. We simply lend them a flag bearing the emblem of the Black Mane Mountain Stronghold. We’re calling it safety escort insurance! In truly dangerous situations our boys can’t handle, you can just… casually step in and take care of it.”
Rodin remained utterly uninterested, his focus locked on the premium cabbage photographs in the catalog. Words like insurance and management were nothing more than meaningless noise to him, less important than weeds.
“This is seriously such a hassle… Does it even make money? Are the rewards solid?”
“Twenty silver coins per wagon as the insurance premium. And if they pass safely, we’ve already signed a contract to receive a bonus shipment of the ‘premium Argon Concentrated Fertilizer’ that only southern merchant guilds can obtain.”
At that moment, Rodin's eyes snapped wide open.
“…Argon Concentrated Fertilizer? You mean that legendary stuff the southern nobles use for their gardens? The one so nutrient-rich that cabbages grow as big as boulders?”
“Hehe, I knew you’d react that way. Here, this is the escort squad flag design. Isn’t it lovely?”
Rodin could no longer see the flag design. In his mind, visions of Gold Cabbages swelling to the size of houses after being fed that fertilizer danced like a beautiful hallucination.
“Fine, I’m in. If you bring me that fertilizer, I’ll clear out not just an ogre but even a dragon.”
The stronghold’s front yard had become so orderly it was now called a training ground. The bandits who, only yesterday, had been picking their noses in rags were gone. In their place stood a neat line of men wearing the crisp black uniforms Veronica had specially commissioned. The fabric was lightweight and flexible, and on each chest the ‘Black Mane’ emblem—Rodin's symbol—was boldly embroidered.
Veronica swung her baton with the charisma of a knight commander.
“Mister Gil! Stop picking your nose! Before I break that finger off! You are no longer mere bandits—you are the Black Mane Escort Guard. You must inspire trust in our customers!”
“Princess—no, Chief Administrator! These clothes are way too tight! My muscles keep trying to burst out! It’s super uncomfortable to swing my arms!”
Dagan grumbled, shrugging his massive shoulders. The seams of his black uniform were screaming under the pressure of his bulging arm muscles.
“That’s because your muscles are stupidly oversized, so just endure it. Now, repeat after me. What do you say when you meet a merchant?”
“Welcome, customer! If you don’t want to get robbed, buy insurance! If you don’t, we’ll rob you ourselves!”
Gil bellowed the line, and Veronica's eyebrows twitched violently.
“No! You say, ‘We guarantee your safety with the honor of our stronghold.’ The word ‘honor’ is the key point. Merchants open their wallets for that fancy-sounding word alone. We are an honorable escort enterprise, not bandits.”
“Ah, as expected of Her Highness the Princess… You’re a master of scams. Honor, huh… We’re just trying to earn money for cabbages.”
When Dagan muttered beside her, Veronica shot him a piercing glare.
“What did you just say, Mister Dagan?”
“N-nothing! Honor! Guarantee! We will absolutely guarantee it with honor! Loyalty!”
Dagan bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle, apparently finding Veronica's baton far more terrifying than Rodin's pickaxe. It was a tear-jerking training scene as the ragtag bandits were reborn as professional personnel under the name of an escort guard.
That afternoon, a merchant caravan was making its way along the forest road. Luxurious silk and food-laden wagons advanced cautiously under the guidance of the Black Mane Escort Guard. The merchants still scanned their surroundings with anxious eyes.
“GRRRROOOOOO—!”
A roar that shook the earth rang out, and the forest trees toppled like dominoes. A massive ogre, easily five meters tall, swung a club and blocked the path.
“Eek! It’s an ogre! We’re finished! Insurance or not, how do we stop that monster!”
The merchants screamed and crawled under their wagons. Dagan and Gil gripped their weapons, cold sweat dripping down their faces. An ogre was no monster a group of bandits could handle.
That was when Rodin emerged from between the trees, yawning widely as if the whole thing was a bother. A gleaming pickaxe rested over his shoulder.
“Hey, you big lug. That tree you just swung cracked one of the boxes on the back of the wagon.”
At Rodin's chilling voice, the ogre instinctively sensed danger, roared, and swung its club.
Whoosh—BANG!
But Rodin didn’t even flinch. He took a light step forward and swung the pickaxe with one hand.
“You gonna take responsibility for my premium fertilizer? No, right?”
THUD—!
With a dull impact, the handle of Rodin's pickaxe slammed into the ogre’s temple. The ogre that usually required an entire knight order to subdue collapsed sideways, eyes rolled back white from a single blow from a farming tool.
BOOM—!
The ogre’s massive body slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. Rodin shrugged as if it were nothing and looked down at the fallen monster.
“Hey, Dagan. Skin this thing cleanly and sell the hide. Use it to offset the fertilizer merchant’s costs. And mister merchant, hurry up and check if the fertilizer boxes are okay. If anything leaked, I’m billing you.”
The merchant stared at Rodin with his mouth hanging open, unable to tell if what he had just witnessed was real.
“E-excuse me… Are you perhaps a retired Imperial Knight Commander?”
“Nope. I’m a cabbage farmer. Can’t you understand plain speech?”
Rodin shook the dirt off his pickaxe and disappeared back into the forest. The merchants could only slap their own cheeks, wondering if this was a dream or reality as they watched his retreating figure.
By evening, the stronghold’s front yard was practically raining money. The merchants who had arrived safely paid Veronica their contract fees with tears of gratitude. Some even grabbed the hem of her skirt, begging to know if she offered season passes.
“It’s just as the rumors said! More reliable than any mercenary group! An escort squad that takes down ogres with a shovel handle—I will strongly recommend you to the Imperial Merchant Alliance!”
“An excellent choice. Our Black Mane puts our customers’ fertilizer… I mean, our customers’ safety and happiness as our top priority.”
Veronica smiled elegantly as she recorded the flood of gold and silver coins in her ledger.
Meanwhile, Rodin was in a corner of the yard, tearing open one of the sacks of ‘premium Argon Concentrated Fertilizer’ the merchant had delivered.
“Hey, princess. This fertilizer is the real deal. The smell is rich and heavy. With this, next year’s cabbages will grow bigger than two human heads combined.”
A rare, genuine smile spread across Rodin's face. Veronica approached him with a pleased expression.
“See? Listening to me brings in money and fertilizer. Isn’t it wonderful? With this money, I’m going to expand the irrigation facilities for the stronghold.”
“Irrigation? That thing that brings water in?”
“Yes. We’ll purify the valley water and automatically channel it all the way to the yard and fields. Then you won’t have to carry those heavy water buckets on your shoulders every morning. You can spend that time having tea with me instead.”
Rodin imagined it for a moment. The annoying daily chore of hauling water until his shoulders nearly dislocated would disappear.
“…You really are a genius sometimes.”
“Sometimes? I’ve always been one, Mister Rodin.”
Veronica slyly slipped her arm through his. Rodin tried to pull away out of habit, but the scent of the fertilizer she had brought him was so intoxicating that he decided to let it slide just this once.
The night at the stronghold was quiet, yet different from the old silence. Rodin gazed out the window of the office in the inner building, looking at the transformed stronghold with a strange feeling in his chest.
The stronghold was no longer a shabby bandit hideout. Sturdy stone walls had been built, the warehouses were filled with stockpiled food, and order flowed through the training yard. But the larger it grew, the more noticeable it became. He had hidden his power to live in peace, yet ironically, using that power to maintain the peace was making him more famous by the day.
“Hey, princess. Aren’t we getting too famous? I said I wanted to quietly grow cabbages and live in peace.”
Veronica, who had been organizing the ledger, looked up at him. Beneath the lantern light, her eyes shimmered deeply.
“We must become famous so no one dares touch us recklessly. If we stay ambiguously hidden, the starving lords nearby will try to devour us. We need to show overwhelming power so they don’t even think about challenging us.”
“Well, I guess I can just blow away anyone who bothers us… but going back to the battlefield is the last thing I want.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be the one spilling blood, but I’ll be the one turning that blood into gold coins. All you have to do is stay by my side and grow your cabbages nicely. Understood?”
“By my side? Your wording has been a bit strange lately, hasn’t it?”
Veronica smiled sweetly and set down her ink pen.
“It’s your imagination. Now, a farm implement importer from the south is coming tomorrow, so please wake up early. They’re bringing new pickaxe samples too.”
“Ugh, seriously… Can’t I sleep in tomorrow…”
Rodin grumbled as he threw himself onto the bed, but the anxious premonitions that once weighed heavily on his chest had faded considerably.
Beyond the peaceful lanterns of the sleeping stronghold. In the pitch-black forest on the outskirts, a gaze watched the stronghold while holding its breath. A man holding a state-of-the-art telescope had precisely captured Veronica's face as she spoke with Rodin in the yard.
“…No doubt about it. It’s the Third Princess Veronica, who was reported dead. She seems quite friendly with those bandit scum.”
A cold smile curled at the man’s lips.
“And that strength… A bandit who takes down an ogre with a single blow from a farming tool. This is no ordinary bandit group. Someone is intentionally gathering military power here.”
The man took a messenger hawk from his coat and tied a small metal tube to its ankle.
“Report to Count Valder. A great ‘threat’ is growing in the forest. And inform him that the princess is still alive.”
When the man released it, the hawk sliced silently through the night sky, flying toward the count’s castle beyond the mountains.
At the same moment, Rodin, who had been lying in bed, suddenly opened his eyes and stared into the darkness outside the window.
“Hmm?”
“What is it, Mister Rodin?”
At Veronica's voice coming through the wall from the next room, Rodin frowned and muttered.
“Nothing… I just have a feeling that tomorrow’s cabbage farming is going to be a lot more troublesome than usual.”
Rodin's chilling gaze seemed to pierce straight through the forest to the exact location of the spy. The first signs of a storm threatening the peaceful life of a farmer were approaching the stronghold, riding on the darkness.