Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Indefinite Contractor Fights the Barbarians
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“Is this what Russia feels like?”
Daniel sat on the sill of his lodging window, gazing out at Kazan's landscape.
Even though it was still autumn by the calendar, snow blanketed the streets everywhere. Icicles dangled from buildings all around.
A scene from a documentary he'd seen in his previous life flashed in his mind, along with long-forgotten memories.
“Reminds me of army days.”
A wry smile tugged at his lips as he watched soldiers patrolling the streets and standing guard atop the distant walls.
Extreme cold training, night watches, the agony of frostbite seeping into his boots...
Knowing that the hardships he'd endured every winter in the military were just everyday life for people here stirred pity in his heart.
“The problem is, I've got to live like that now too.”
This was a long-term assignment—at least three months.
He'd have to rub shoulders with the soldiers on the battlefield, locked in deadly combat with the barbarians.
It was his first time fighting northern barbarians, but he wasn't particularly tense.
Just cast spells from the walls, and I'm done.
Even if a wyvern showed up, it wouldn't be an issue.
The intensive training under Titania over the past month had elevated his magic to a whole new level.
Confidence born of skill—like a suit of sturdy armor bolstering his mind—left no room for fear.
“Speaking of which, a welcome banquet, huh.”
He scratched his head, recalling the message a servant had delivered that morning.
He'd never been much of a drinker, even in his previous life.
He could play along with the mood for a glass or two, but that was his limit.
But today, sticking to that principle would be tough.
Tricky. Heard Rainer's quite the drinker.
The invitation came from Rainer himself.
Kazan's top authority—and a man poised to become the north's supreme power in the near future.
Turning down a drink from a guy like that? He couldn't even imagine the fallout.
Still don't wanna drink. Any way out of this?
It was the kind of stubbornness no ordinary Magic Tower mage would dream of.
Willfully kicking away a chance to share drinks with the next Northern Archduke.
But Daniel could pull it off.
Chug as much as you want and you're just a sloppy drunk. I wanna live healthy.
A man who'd overworked himself to death in his past life chasing promotions and rank began scheming how to refuse a toast from the elite.
“Makes me envy the soldiers right now. They couldn't drink even if they wanted to... Oh?”
Daniel slapped his knee.
“That's it!”
The solution he'd hit upon was simple.
Just make sure he doesn't offer me any booze?
And the method was absurdly straightforward.
“Thanks, soldier boys. I'll pay this debt back by running the front lines with you.”
With thanks to the patrolling soldiers outside who'd unwittingly provided the hint, Daniel stepped out of his lodging.
To put his plan into action, he needed to buy one item.
His steps toward Kazan's streets were light as air.
Night had fallen over Kazan.
Candles and chandeliers illuminated the ceiling as nobles and officers filed into the hall.
The guests tilted their glasses, awaiting tonight's guest of honor.
Rainer was one of them.
“Sir Daniel enters.”
“He's here. Hm?”
“Hold on. That?”
Rainer turned his head, and the room's expressions hardened.
“Leather clothes?”
“Why?”
“Where's the formal suit?”
It was neither a suit nor a tuxedo.
Daniel wore a brown bear fur outfit sold at Kazan's forges or clothing shops.
Superior warmth and practicality made it a favorite among hunters and soldiers. It was utterly unfit for an occasion like this.
Rainer was dumbfounded.
What the hell is he thinking?
His servants had reported delivering a formal suit. So why show up like this?
No one in the hall, Rainer included, could fathom the reason.
Rainer decided to ask directly.
“Welcome, Mage Daniel.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Young Duke Rainer.”
“Then answer my question. We sent a suit, as you know... so why this getup?”
“To fulfill my duties.”
“Duties?”
“Yes.”
With all eyes on him, Daniel spoke.
“I was dispatched here to fight the Steel Scale Tribe. From my personal investigations, they favor night raids.”
“They do have that tendency.”
“No guarantee it won't be tonight, though.”
“...!!!”
“Haha.”
Exclamations rippled through the crowd.
“If they attack, we halt the banquet and rush to the front. But compared to you all, my body's frail. I couldn't handle Kazan's night chill in a suit.”
“So that's why the outfit?”
“Yes. I came to fight alongside you. Can't go collapsing from the flu after one night skirmish. Please forgive the attire with your magnanimity.”
Rainer had no words as Daniel bowed politely.
“You heard him, sir?”
“Yeah. He's got real combat sense.”
“Can't argue with that. Plenty of dispatched mages underestimated the northern weather and ended up hacking and coughing.”
“Did his homework beforehand, huh.”
“But showing up like that to an event like this...”
“Haha. Better than mages obsessed with primping.”
“Hmm. Still a bit rude, isn't it?”
Reactions were split.
Those who understood but couldn't fully accept it.
Those who nodded in agreement, showing approval.
The latter were mostly knights and officers.
This is... problematic.
Rainer felt inwardly flustered.
His plan to probe this mage's true intentions over drinks was thwarted from the outset.
A man showing more vigilance on his first day than Kazan natives.
Offer booze to him?
Tomorrow, rumors will spread through Kazan: 'The lord has little interest in defending the city.' Perfect sensational fodder for the masses.
His position as next Northern Archduke was nearly secured—not completely.
Rivals coveting his seat abounded.
He'd poured attention and effort into keeping them down.
Hand them a counterattack on a silver platter himself? Unthinkable.
Flustered. Knew from reports he was combat-practical, but this thorough? More knight than mage.
Rainer's grand miscalculation was unavoidable.
Logically, what mage would pull a stunt like this just to dodge a drink?
A logic trap.
And Rainer had fallen right in.
“Young master. The toast first.”
“Ah, right.”
Snapping to at Syril's whisper, Rainer raised his glass.
Worries could wait.
For now, as host, he had to fulfill his role.
“Haha, truly glad to have such a sturdy comrade join us. Everyone, raise your glasses! A welcome to Mage Sir Daniel, who'll shed blood and sweat alongside us...”
—CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG!!!
“...!”
The blaring bells assaulted their ears, cutting Rainer off.
The hall's air froze solid, faces turning to stone.
The barbarians were attacking!
All eyes locked on Daniel.
Gazes of shock and respect poured onto the man who'd predicted this exact scenario.
Damn, what timing is this?
Unaware that the lying mage was breaking into a cold sweat inside.
“Raid!”
“Where?!”
“Those bells mean east gate!”
“Fetch the armor!”
“Pardon me first.”
“Huh?”
“Wait!”
Daniel bolted for the terrace and leaped off before anyone could respond.
“Gasp!”
“Sir Daniel!”
The room gasped in shock, but soon held their breath.
A black cloak billowed in the wind as he shot into the sky.
They watched his silhouette vanish beyond Kazan's night sky via flight magic, hands clutching their pounding chests.
“Good timing or bad?”
Daniel could hardly believe it.
His excuse to dodge drinks had turned real, against all odds.
Hesitating now would be the worst move.
It'd be like confessing outright to the elite: I'm a liar.
So Daniel charged out.
To prove to everyone he wasn't lying.
“That way?”
Finding the direction was easy.
Just follow the soldiers rushing through the chaotic streets toward the emergency bells.
Arriving at the east wall ahead of anyone from the banquet, Daniel surveyed the battlefield.
The top of the wall was already a full-blown melee.
“What the...?”
His eyes widened at the unexpected sight.
He'd anticipated barbarians—clearly screaming 'I'm a barbarian!'—tangled with knights and soldiers.
But this he hadn't.
“For real? Cavalry in a siege defense?”
Cavalry—infantry's worst nightmare—rampaging across the walltop like it was nothing. Daniel was stunned.
Soldiers screamed with every thunder of hooves.
Knights desperately tried to target the mounts, but the barbarians' harassment and their elevated position from horseback made it futile.
A few aura-wielding elites managed to fell horses here and there, but it wasn't enough to turn the tide.
Horse Demon Tribe.
The north's eternal enemies, one of the Highland Tribes.
Northerners called them 'mad horse lovers' for their unrivaled horsemanship.
Dragging mounts onto walls for mounted combat? Child's play to them.
Of course, for their foes, it was as frustrating a tactic as they came.
“Imps... no good.”
Daniel considered summoning his lesser demon horde but held off.
Melee with enemies and allies intermingled.
A standard imp barrage would inevitably hit friendlies too.
So what now?
The deliberation was brief.
Instead of a summon incantation, he chanted a spell he hadn't used in ages.
“Sleep, Sleep, Sleep, Sleep.”
Bursts of light erupted across the battlefield.
“Ugh!”
“Wh-what?! Urk!”
“Hihihi-neigh!”
Sleep magic struck without mercy, foe and friend alike. Even the horses weren't spared.
With their mounts afflicted by the status ailment, the Horse Demon cavalry were forcibly demoted to infantry. They blinked in confusion.
The soldiers mid-fight were equally dumbfounded.
“Wh-what the hell just... Kaaak!”
“Reinforcements! Reinforcements are here!”
“...!!! Wooaaah!!!”
“Take down the Horse Demons!”
A knight's shout as he cleaved a now-grounded Horse Demon ignited cheers.
The soldiers pressed forward.
Mounted Horse Demons were terror incarnate—but on foot? Different story.
Dozens of spear tips hurtled toward them, draining the color from the Horse Demons' faces.