A Contract of Obedience
"Vice-leader. It's not like I just carry everything, you know."
Dorian smacked his lips, stroking his Belly Pouch.
"So? Do you have a contract or not?"
Raon flicked his fingers, telling him to hand it over already if he did.
"Well… I do have one, yeah."
Dorian rummaged around inside the Belly Pouch, and a crisp sheet of contract paper popped out.
"I need a pen and a writing board, too."
"I've got those as well, but…"
He reached into the pouch again and produced a pen and a writing board.
"Thanks."
Raon accepted them with a faint smile.
"You do realize I don't always have everything, right?"
"I know."
"You don't look like you believe me."
Dorian smacked his lips again, wiped the blood off the club he'd set aside, and stuffed it back into the Belly Pouch. The sight of that enormous club vanishing into such a tiny pouch drew another round of gasps from the onlookers.
"Whoa…"
"Zieghart's no joke."
"No kidding. A kid swordsman who beat Inild, and then that one with the weird pouch…"
"Has the giant of the North finally woken up?"
"Well, once Zieghart starts moving, nobody can stop them."
The spectacle they'd just witnessed had clearly left an impression. The crowd had already forgotten Valkar entirely, and every conversation circling the square was about House Zieghart.
Raon listened to their excited chatter as he filled out the contract with brisk, efficient strokes.
This should do it.
The terms were simple. Until the mission was over, the Salamander Magic Corps would obey every order from the Light Wind Squad. Violence and insults were forbidden — and so was informal speech. Of course, he'd also written that the Light Wind Squad couldn't make any demand so excessive it would put lives at risk.
"Have a look."
"Did we really need a contract for this?"
Morell took the paper and scowled.
"I prefer things to be airtight."
"Our vice-leader isn't the type to slack off like I do. You'd better watch yourself."
Rimer glanced over the contract and grinned.
"Is that supposed to be a boast?"
"Of course it is. Your disciple's lying there with his teeth knocked out, and mine's standing tall."
He pointed from Inild to Raon in turn, smiling wider.
"Ghh…"
Morell had been clinging to his composure, but he couldn't hold it. His teeth ground together. Having his disciple compared like that seemed to hit him harder than anything else.
"The contract looks fine. Just sign it already."
"Shut up."
Morell shoved Rimer aside with a shoulder and looked around. Over a hundred spectators had gathered by now. He let out a long, weary sigh.
How did it come to this…
He'd proposed the duel thinking it was a chance to knock Zieghart's arrogance down a peg. He'd never imagined it would end like this. The princess and Inild had run their mouths, and he'd said too much himself. There was no way out.
"Haa…"
Morell reviewed the contract one more time, then signed it.
"See? You were going to do it anyway."
"Would you close your mouth?"
"Yessir!"
While Rimer needled Morell, Raon walked over to Princess Jayna and Inild. Inild was still out from the physical beating; the princess hadn't come around from the psychological one.
"Are you taking them to a clinic?"
"Yes. Fortunately, there's a well-known treatment house halfway down the main road."
Zatis hoisted Inild onto his back and pointed toward a four-story building partway down the street. He seemed to have accepted the defeat in earnest — there wasn't a crease of resentment on his face. If anything, he looked grateful that Raon had even spoken to him.
"I see. Go ahead."
Raon nodded, then drew two red pins from his pocket. His hands moved quickly, fastening one to Inild's clothes and the other to Princess Jayna's.
"Hmm…"
"Raon!"
He was watching the two of them being carried off when a sheet of paper came fluttering through the air.
"It's signed!"
"Tsk."
He turned. Rimer was grinning from ear to ear. Morell was kicking a stone across the ground with the face of a man who'd bitten into something rotten.
"I won't forget today's humiliation."
"No, you shouldn't. You're the one who created it, after all."
"Ghh — you…"
"Squad leader."
Raon left Morell trembling and handed the contract back to Rimer.
"You're the one who should keep this."
"Ah, what a pain. You hold onto it."
Rimer didn't take it. He laced his fingers behind his head instead.
"Squad leader! Raon already set the whole table for you, and you won't even sit down? That's too much!"
"He does even less than he did as an instructor. Unbelievable."
"Urgh…"
Under Burren's and Marta's icy stares, Rimer flinched and reached for the contract.
"No. I'll keep it after all."
Raon shook his head and tucked the paper into his coat.
"If you hold it, you'll sell it to the other side. I can't have that."
Knowing Rimer, a handful of gold coins would be enough for him to sell not just the contract, but the contract's grandfather along with it.
"Let's go. After a scene like that, the mayor should have finished preparing by now."
Raon opened the doors of city hall and walked inside. The Light Wind Squad followed, and so did the Salamander mages — now reduced to servants — trailing after them with heavy sighs.
"Ah…"
Left alone in front of city hall, Rimer stared down at his empty hands, the corners of his eyes twitching.
"Damn it! I could've sold the contract!"
A basement thick with sticky red moisture. Thin moans leaked from the iron cages lining both sides of the corridor.
A red-haired girl who couldn't have been more than fourteen walked that reeking hallway, humming a little tune as if she were savoring the whimpering from the cages. She opened the door at the far end.
The room beyond didn't feel like a basement at all. It was bright, almost pleasant. A kindly-looking old man with soft gray hair sat in a chair, reading a book.
"Zieghart and Valkar arrived right on schedule."
The girl spoke to him without a shred of formality, as if they were friends, and perched herself on the edge of his desk.
"Right on the day we expected. How are the preparations?"
The old man didn't look at her. His eyes stayed on the page.
"What kind of question is that? Half of them have already drunk it. I left the other half as they are."
"The Apostle will be here soon. Make sure the numbers are exact so the transfer goes without a hitch."
"Got it. Something interesting happened, though."
The red-haired girl spread her small hands and went on.
"The second Zieghart and Valkar showed up, they started dueling."
"A duel?"
"I don't know why they fought, but Zieghart's little swordsman went up against Inild."
"Inild won, I assume."
"No."
At that single word, the old man's gaze lifted to her for the first time.
"Zieghart's kid completely overwhelmed him. And it wasn't even a sword — he smashed everything with a club."
"Hmm? A club? What are you talking about?"
"And then that blond brat…"
She told him everything — Raon's fight with Inild, and the wager that had followed.
"Celine."
The old man narrowed his eyes and called her name.
"Look into that young swordsman."
"Why? We're leaving soon anyway."
"We and Zieghart are bound to keep colliding. If he's going to become a formidable enemy in the future, we should know about him in advance. And if the opportunity presents itself…"
"Kill him, right?"
The girl called Celine drew two fingers across her throat.
"If Rimer or Morell is nearby, don't approach. Gather information only. Move only when he's alone. Anyone who isn't a Master won't notice your sorcery, so it shouldn't be difficult."
"Easy enough."
She traced a hand down a face that mixed beauty and cuteness in equal measure, and smiled.
"I wonder what Zieghart blood tastes like."
"Haven't you had plenty already?"
"This one's different. The talent's one thing, but that face is ridiculously good-looking."
"Hmph. Pointless."
The old man clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Come to think of it — you said the princess and Inild collapsed?"
"Yeah. They passed out, so they were taken to the healing ward."
"Hmm…"
The old man scratched his chin, a faint smile touching his lips.
"This might kill two birds with one stone."
Owest, the mayor of Forban, had the kind of solid build that inspired trust. The sweat that kept rolling down his face, however, gave him an anxious look to match.
"W-welcome. You've arrived."
Owest dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and bowed.
"I am Owest, mayor of Forban."
"Rimer of Zieghart's Light Wind Squad."
Rimer returned the greeting with an easy smile.
"Please, sit."
At the mayor's gesture, Rimer took the center seat. Everyone else remained standing behind him.
"It is a true honor to meet Zieghart's Sword of Light…"
"I am rather impressive, I'll grant you, but the mission is urgent, so let's get to the point. I'd like an explanation."
Rimer tapped the table, making it clear he wanted to hear about the assignment first.
"A-ah, of course. Forban has always lived off trade and tourism, so we tend to see a few more disappearances than other cities. Starting three months ago, however, those numbers began climbing, and in the last two weeks alone we've received over a hundred missing-person reports."
Even for a city of Forban's size, more than a hundred reports in two weeks was extraordinary. Plenty of people didn't trust city hall enough to file anything at all, which meant the real number could be even higher.
"We deployed disguised city guards, mercenaries, even knights to investigate — and the disappearances continued as if they were laughing at us. The mercenaries and knights we sent out vanished as well."
Owest wiped the sweat streaming down his cheeks and muttered under his breath, begging them to please, please solve this.
"For a city with that many disappearances, the atmosphere didn't seem all that grim."
Rimer spoke while looking out at the city visible beyond the mayor's office. He was right. The Forban they'd seen today hadn't felt particularly shadowed.
"We haven't told anyone about the disappearances."
"What do you mean by that?"
Burren, who had been silent until then, stepped forward with narrowed eyes.
"A-as I said, this city lives on trade and tourism. If word got out that disappearances were surging, tourists and merchants would stop coming, so we… we didn't announce it."
Owest knew how that sounded. The sweat doubled. He looked like a man who'd been caught in the rain.
"That doesn't make any sense! You should have warned people immediately to cut down the damage!"
"I-if the disappearances became public, the damage wouldn't be limited to a few people — the entire city would suffer. We had no choice."
"Bullshit! What do you mean, no choice?"
"Burren. Marta."
Marta had been about to pile on as well when Raon raised a hand, blocking both of their views.
"The squad leader is speaking."
"How are we supposed to just sit here and listen to this?"
"Mention Forban and people think of tourism — a city's image is that easy to stamp in. If rumors of mass disappearances started circulating, tourists would go elsewhere, and trade volume would drop with them."
Raon continued in a calm voice, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
"Then, just as the mayor said, the damage would spread through the whole city. It wouldn't be disappearances anymore — you'd have people losing their livelihoods and starving to death in droves. And there's no guarantee that announcing it would even stop the abductions. Anyone deranged enough to snatch over a hundred people in two weeks would smash down doors to take them anyway."
Anyone capable of kidnapping more than a hundred people in two weeks had already shed their human skin. If people stopped going outside because they'd been warned, the abductors might simply start dragging them out of their homes.
"If you care about the citizens, the best thing we can do is resolve this as fast as possible."
"Th-that's exactly right!"
The instant Raon finished, Owest shot to his feet, clapping.
"If this incident spreads through the entire city, things far worse than disappearances will cascade one after another! Th-there are so many other places people can go instead of us!"
He looked at Raon with genuine admiration.
"Who on earth is this young man? His insight is extraordinary."
"Ahem. He's the vice-leader of our Light Wind Squad, and my disciple. Ordinary, really."
Rimer cleared his throat and pointed at himself.
"The Sword of Light's disciple! No wonder his brilliance is so striking."
Owest nodded deeply at Raon.
Remarkable.
Given enough time, anyone might have reached the same conclusion. But to arrive at that depth in a handful of seconds — whatever this Raon's martial strength was, his insight left ordinary people far behind.
"Have you learned anything about them?"
"They don't distinguish between night and day. They don't care whether there are people around or not. They snatch people the way a thief steals goods — without anyone noticing. It feels as if the victims simply vanish. No one knows how the disappearances actually happen."
"What was the martial level of the mercenaries and knights who went missing during the investigation?"
"The mercenaries were around Expert Low-Class. The k-knights were Expert Mid-Class and Expert High-Class."
Owest let out a long sigh, as if he still couldn't quite believe it.
"An Expert High-Class went missing…"
"I was shocked myself."
"Is there anything beyond that? Anyone who saw their martial arts, their appearance, their clothing?"
"I'm sorry. There's no one."
"This doesn't sound like an ordinary human-trafficking ring."
Rimer scratched his chin, frowning.
"The actual traffickers have been causing even more chaos in the middle of all this. It's a headache from every angle."
Owest pressed his temples and sighed again.
"This is no small matter. It could even be the Five Demons."
"Th-the Five Demons?"
The moment Rimer said those words, the mayor's cheeks began to tremble.
"P-please, solve this! If you resolve it, we'll pay the commission and give you whatever reward you want as a bonus! I beg you!"
Owest bowed his head sharply. From start to finish, he had spoken only of the city as a whole, never of his own safety. Whatever impression his appearance gave, he seemed to be a man who thought of nothing but Forban.
"I'll remember that — 'whatever you want.'"
Rimer grinned and stood.
"Let's go!"
He opened the door of the mayor's office and walked out.
"B-but why have the Salamander people come back?"
The mayor tilted his head at Morell and the mages standing behind Raon.
"Don't worry about them."
Raon gestured toward the Salamander contingent.
"They're our servants."
"Hah! Th-that's— what?"
Owest lurched to his feet in shock. He'd expected Morell to explode — but Morell didn't move. His jaw just trembled.
"Y-you don't necessarily have to call us servants, do you."
"Do you?"
Raon echoed the informal ending and tilted his head.
"Do y—"
Morell stared into empty air, let out several heavy sighs, and tried again.
"You don't necessarily have to call us that… sir."
"As I said, I prefer things to be airtight."
Raon smiled and pointed at the open door.
"Shall we? The squad leader will be waiting downstairs."
He gave Morell a couple of pats on the shoulder and left the mayor's office.
"Huuuh…"
Morell drew a slow breath, exhaled a seething heat, and locked eyes with Owest.
"Hah!"
Owest swallowed hard under that gaze.
I-if I say a word, he'll kill me.
Morell's eyes promised that if today's events left this room, he would burn the man to ash from head to toe. Then he walked out.
"Ghh!"
"Ugh!"
"Damn it…"
"What kind of mess is this?"
The other mages ground their teeth or bit their lips as they followed Morell out.
"Hah! Hah!"
Alone in the mayor's office, Owest's legs gave out. He dropped into his chair.
"What in the world just happened…"
Outside the mayor's office, the Light Wind Squad and the Salamander mages gathered in front of Rimer.
"As you heard, the people behind the disappearances haven't been identified. I have a rough idea who it might be, but I can't say it lightly."
Rimer continued with his hands folded behind his back.
"Even an Expert High-Class swordsman went missing, so individual action is strictly forbidden. You'll move in teams of three — two from the Light Wind Squad and one from the Salamander Corps."
"Yes, sir!"
"No complaints, Morell?"
"……"
Morell's pride was clearly stinging. He only nodded, without a word.
"You need to answer."
Raon jerked his chin at Morell.
"Nngh. F-fine."
"Fine?"
"I underst— I understand."
"That's better."
Raon lifted a hand toward Rimer, as if telling him to continue.
"Puhahahaha! Morell! Oh, my stomach!"
Rimer clutched his belly laughing at Morell, then declared he was too drained to go on and told Raon to assign the teams. He'd clearly just dumped the work because he couldn't be bothered.
"Haa. Honestly…"
Raon shook his head and put the teams together so that their strengths were reasonably balanced.
"You'll start the investigation in these teams. Morell and I will wait here. Come back every three hours and report your progress. Don't try to solve anything on your own — report first."
With that, Rimer handed each of them one of the silent whistles he'd given out back when they were trainees.
"I've got something for you too."
Raon pulled red pins from his pocket one by one and fastened them to the Light Wind Squad members' clothes.
"What's this?"
Burren narrowed his eyes at the red pin on his collar.
"A pin made from Flame Brand Stone."
Raon said it as he pinned one onto Runaan, who was blinking at him.
"My aura is imbued in it, so I can track your location. Don't take it off."
The pins were equipment he'd commissioned from Vulcan. Infused with the aura of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, they could pinpoint a wearer's position. They weren't fully refined yet, but even unfinished, they were something he needed to use now.
"Tsk. What is this…"
Marta clicked her tongue, but she didn't stop him from pinning one on her. She didn't seem entirely opposed.
"Our vice-leader really is thorough when it comes to prep—"
"I'll be deducting it from the Light Wind Squad's public funds, so have that ready."
"Ahem…"
Rimer didn't answer. He just turned his head away.
"All right, move out. If you witness a disappearance or spot anyone suspicious, report it immediately."
"Yes, sir!"
"Understood!"
The makeshift teams of Light Wind Squad and Salamander mages answered in ringing voices and set off toward their assigned districts.
"Do you actually think they'll find anything?"
Morell came up beside Rimer.
"It'll be hard."
Rimer snorted and shook his head.
"We made a show of Zieghart and Valkar arriving in broad daylight. Unless they're complete idiots, they'll keep their heads down. That said…"
"That said?"
"If it's one of the Five Demons, like we suspect, they might just start a massive fire and run."
"Mmm…"
Morell's face tightened. He seemed to think that was possible.
"Something similar happened in our territory. The moment I went to support, the disappearances vanished like ghosts."
"That's why you came here?"
"Yes. I thought we could catch their tail. Then you lot ruined everything."
Morell let out a rough breath.
"And that disciple of yours, Raon — what the hell is he? The martial power is one thing, but he can think, too…"
When Raon had read Owest's reasoning in the mayor's office, Morell had nearly sworn out loud. The more he saw of Raon, the more the boy had a talent for producing astonishment.
"I can't believe that kid is a collateral descendant…"
"Ah, I just remembered somewhere I need to be."
Rimer cut him off with a wave.
"You know how to hear the silent whistle, right? Stay here and keep an eye on whether the kids run into trouble."
"Rimer!"
Morell shouted, but Rimer had already become the wind and vanished.
"You damn—!"
Morell ground his teeth at the empty space where Rimer had been.
"Master or disciple, they've both mastered the art of pissing people off!"
Raon headed for the outskirts of the city with Dorian and Zatis.
"You don't have to come."
He'd told Zatis — still carrying internal and external injuries — to rest rather than push himself, but the knight had insisted on coming to the end, saying they needed to fill out the numbers.
"I'm fine. It's an honor just to accompany you, Sir Raon."
They'd only crossed swords once, and already Zatis was looking at Raon the way a man looks at a teacher who'd changed his life.
"I never expected to be in awe of someone younger than I am. A swordsmanship that fuses extreme effort with raw talent — it sent a chill down my spine."
"From the way you shifted your stance in an instant, Sir Zatis, you'll climb even higher."
"Please, there's no need to gild the face of a man who couldn't even take a single strike."
"I mean it."
Raon shook his head. Given Zatis's temperament and the nature of his swordsmanship, he was the type who would only grow faster with age.
"I'm grateful you'd say so."
Zatis flushed and bowed his head. For all his skill with a blade, there was something endearingly awkward about him.
"Um, you two? I'm here too, you know?"
Dorian sidled up, stroking his Belly Pouch, but Raon and Zatis were still talking about nothing but swordsmanship.
"This isn't the area we're supposed to be searching, is it?"
Zatis swallowed as he looked down the alleys growing darker around them.
"No. It isn't."
"Then why are we…"
"Because we don't have much information."
Raon said they didn't have enough to solve this yet, and twirled a finger in the air.
"Information like this isn't found by looking up. You look down."
He walked into the filthy, dim alley without hesitation, as if he'd been here before.
"Mmm. I hope this is all right…"
Zatis frowned at a bloodstained shard of glass on the ground.
"Just follow him."
Dorian popped a snack into his mouth from who-knew-where and came up beside him.
"If you follow that man, things tend to work themselves out. It's a little scary, though…"
He gave a theatrical shiver and fell in behind Raon.
"Hmm…"
Zatis fidgeted, watching Raon's back. He had crossed blades with countless knights of the kingdom, but this was the first time a sword had ever moved him.
Something beyond strength and technique had been nested in Raon's blade.
I want to see that sword again.
He crushed the glass that had been feeding his hesitation underfoot, and followed.