Chapter 224
Chapter 224
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 224
Chapter Title: Didn't Even Think of Bows?
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Didn't even think of using a bow?"
Owen sighed as he gazed at Or El Din, dead from an arrow to the forehead.
"Well, it's true—fewer people these days even know how to shoot one."
Owen swiftly unstrung his bow and walked over to Simo.
Simo looked up at him with eyes full of admiration.
"That was incredible, Teacher!"
"Hm, archery is truly a skill worth praising."
Normally, Owen would have brushed it off with something humble like, "Just a trick I've picked up over the years," but since he smiled warmly instead, Simo figured archery must really be that hard to master.
Owen untied Simo from the pillar.
"Any injuries?"
"No. Thank you for coming to my rescue. How can I ever repay this kindness..."
"Heh, you're the one doing me the favor."
Owen continued.
"I have no idea how much His Divinity treasures you. You're right at the center of the world now."
Solotl Simo blinked in disbelief.
"No way."
"At the very least, the Etimo family and I think so. So..."
Simo panicked as she saw Owen's expression darken.
Owen rarely lost his composure, no matter the situation.
He'd probably laugh it off even if stabbed, then electrocute the attacker on the spot.
"...whatever happens for your sake, try not to feel too guilty about it. We're all doing this because we want to."
"...Teacher, what has happened?"
Owen fell silent for a moment before speaking.
"Your limbs might be numb, but can you move?"
"Yes."
"Then let's hurry."
Owen led Simo toward the Etimo Merchant House.
As they approached, gunfire began to echo.
Simo had never even seen a gun fired before, but thanks to the battles over the past three months, the sound was familiar now.
But even that familiar crackle was just a shot or two.
-Brat-tat-tat-tat...!
Automatic fire from somewhere ripped through the air, the blasts reverberating between the stone buildings and stabbing their ears with sharp whistles.
After that much shooting, you'd expect a pause for reloading, but the barrage continued without respite.
Then came the thunderous booms of grenades exploding.
Simo tensed up, sticking close behind Owen as they closed in. Now screams reached them too.
Owen said,
"I wish there were somewhere safe in this city, but for now, right behind me is your best bet. Stay as close as you can."
"Teacher, what's going on?"
"We're at war."
"War? The 'invisible war'?"
The feud between the Pallet and Etimo families had once been called an invisible war, drawing public attention.
"But now it's a visible one. A real war."
Owen gave a quick rundown of what happened while Simo was captured.
Philina Etimo had put up a solid fight against the Pallets.
Born to the merchant bloodline, she was a natural trader. Her experience dealing with merchants from various continents and nations allowed her to lead the overseas faction—despite their disadvantage—without being overwhelmed by the traditionalists.
But backing the Pallet family wasn't just outrage; the United Kingdom was involved too.
Due to the Ronante-Oroban alliance's naval blockade, the Etimos couldn't get aid from the Empire. Meanwhile, the Pallets were secretly receiving support from the United Kingdom.
The stalemate gradually tipped as time passed.
That's when they spotted the mistake.
A small shipment of smuggled goods had entered Pallet territory.
But Philina didn't worry much.
It had been moved in utmost secrecy, and no matter what it was, it wasn't enough to start a new venture or threaten the Etimo house.
Above all, the fact that it went straight to the family—not a warehouse—meant it wasn't for resale, so it wasn't deemed critical in the invisible war.
That was Philina's miscalculation.
"It couldn't be helped. They were real weapons for an actual war."
Philina had never imagined it would come to actually taking up arms, even as a last resort.
Let alone doing so directly, without borrowing hands from other crime syndicates—the two families clashing head-on.
Owen didn't think her mindset was naive.
He didn't know much about money or economics, so he hadn't foreseen how an invisible war could tank Polybia's public safety this badly.
'It's like the God of War himself has their back.'
Owen said,
"And the moment you were kidnapped, the attack began."
"What? So then..."
"It was a feint within a feint."
The Pallets had never expected the Rusty Brass Coin Syndicate to snag the patent contract.
For them, as long as they could lure away Owen—the mercenary—via Simo, that was enough.
"And their plan worked."
Owen couldn't weigh the Etimo family against Simo, so he acted immediately.
But Philina didn't try to stop him.
"Go."
"You sure?"
"We had a deal, didn't we? If it came down to the family or Miss Simo, I'd prioritize her. If anything, this is a relief."
"A relief?"
"This is our chance to prove that promise. Maybe we can climb the Tower of Trials after all."
Owen gave a wry smile.
"Not with that—you won't even make it halfway."
"..."
"So hold out. I'll be back soon."
But assaulting the Rusty Brass Coin Syndicate had taken time.
He'd rescued Simo unscathed, but dealing with even the rabble required caution.
"The entrance... already breached."
The Etimo house's doorway was littered with burning furniture piled for barricades, blasted apart like they'd taken a bomb.
Nearby, orcish Pallet guards stood watch, wary of reinforcements.
Clearing them would be simple, but silently? Tough.
The orcs held their rifles at chest height, ready to fire, covering each other's fields of view.
If even one shot rang out while Owen handled them, the occupiers inside would swarm out.
"Frontal assault's out."
The situation looked grim, but Owen didn't write it off entirely.
If the fight was over, the Pallets wouldn't still be here.
Owen frequented the Etimo house and knew climbable routes.
He hid Simo, then skirted around, avoiding the Pallet private soldiers, and slipped inside.
Reaching the top-floor conference room—the house's innermost sanctum—Philina Etimo and family members held off the foes below with their meager firearms.
Gunfire was sporadic now; only noisy shouts rose from downstairs.
As Owen approached, startled Philina swung her gun barrel toward him, then hastily lowered it.
"...How did you get here?"
"I'm too late. Doesn't look good—better to retreat."
"We evacuated the staff. Everyone here is family or those sworn to die for it. So we haven't lost many lives. Not yet."
"Then we protect those lives."
Philina said,
"You saved Miss Simo, didn't you? That's enough. We'll stand with the family..."
Owen replied,
"I guarantee you—this sacrifice won't go unrewarded. But Miss Simo needs you to keep researching. Right?"
"...We heard you went to the Pallets first. Isn't any funding from anyone fine?"
Owen blinked, as if to say what are you talking about?
"That was then. Not now. Don't you get bonds? We've fought side-by-side, risked lives—how could we cut ties? You're the ones we need now."
Philina pondered briefly, then spoke.
"...Just where did you slip in? I can't think of any escape routes."
Owen smiled.
"You pick up tricks like that living long enough."
"...Really?"
Hegemonia muttered, shooting up from her throne as she watched the screen.
On it, Pallet family orcs unlocked a sealed door and entered the conference room.
Important documents littered the table, including the patent contract.
By now, the contract might hold little legal weight.
The Pallets had broken countless Polybian laws, their future uncertain.
Polybia's security was at rock bottom, but with the family war ending, aid requests to neighbors were ready. Per Hegemonia's checks, foreign troops would sweep them within days.
Even if they survived, attacking a rival merchant house with guns? No merchant would condone it. They were no better than a crime syndicate. The Pallets were finished.
Hegemonia didn't care.
"The prophecy is fulfilled now."
Family head Bulko Pallet picked up the contract.
Hegemonia realized she was more thrilled than expected.
'...Can't be helped.'
Even she felt a twinge of bitterness.
The United Kingdom often won battles against the Empire.
But those victories never won the war.
Partial defeats always followed, requiring more wins to compensate.
Past triumphs were less additions, more erasing deficits.
'But this is a clear plus.'
One player falls, another rises.
The inevitable result of contradictory prophecies.
With Hegemonia victorious, Nebula's downfall was sealed.
'And these points are the most crucial in this game.'
Beyond dominating electrical distribution, shoving Nebula—nearing Great Domain—back was a twofer.
'Good. Hunt down their remnants, wipe them out, then ship the patent to the United Kingdom...'
As her victory high cooled and she pondered, a message popped in the corner of her vision.
'What? Nebula whispering in rage over turning invisible war visible?'
She checked it—and slumped into her throne.
"...How?"