Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Byproduct of the Nobility 2
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“You bastards….”
Tarki glanced around just in case. But there was no sign of anyone launching a surprise attack.
He slowly circled the mercenaries who were sleeping wrapped in their cloaks with swords in hand, and soon spotted two sentries lying asleep behind the rocks by the campfire.
“Phew. You just shaved ten years off my life.”
Tarki nudged the sentries awake with his foot.
“Huh?!”
“You idiots, what good are you sleeping here?”
“Ah… Y-Young master.”
“Young master my ass. Call me knight. I’m still a Squire Knight, got it?”
Tarki realized something was off about the mercenaries’ condition. They hadn’t just fallen asleep—they’d been knocked out in an attack, so they remembered what happened.
“Y-Yes. Well, um….”
“W-We were attacked.”
“Really? Not just a bad dream?”
“It’s true.”
“Let’s take a look.”
Tarki led the soldiers around the area, but there were no other signs of life. Azadin had already taken everything worth taking and slipped away from their camp.
“Gah? What the hell? Our spoils!”
Tarki freaked out when he saw their loot chest pried open.
*********
‘Judging by their reaction, it wasn’t that guy. So it must be someone among the mercenaries?’
Azadin watched the mercenaries’ camp from afar.
‘No matter how I look at it, this wand… it’s from the Kurt Godkin.’
He couldn’t use magic himself, but he’d been educated on it. The feel and scent from magic items, along with the faint aura visible to his eyes, told him this was made with the Kurt Godkin’s mana.
“The Chart of the Divine King popping up out of nowhere is suspicious too. Emperor’s Voice, do you know anything?”
[No. Investigating is humanity’s job. I was made as a spirit, after all.]
“You’re utterly useless.”
[Doesn’t making it so you can sleep soundly anywhere without a watch count for a lot? And I tell the time precisely too. That’s plenty useful!]
“Fair enough.”
Azadin let out a sigh.
The Emperor’s Herald might seem superhuman to ordinary folk, but he was human in the end. Fatigue was piling up.
“Guess I’ll have to rest and ask the kids for help. Would’ve been nice if I could use magic myself. Shouldn’t have said I didn’t need attendants, now here I am relying on these brats.”
Azadin pulled back regretfully. He wanted to observe the mercenaries more, but if one of them could really wield Kurt Godkin magic, they wouldn’t be pushovers.
‘There’s a risk of detection from this distance. Hmm, feels like things are getting complicated.’
*********
The next day, Azadin rustled out from under his cloak.
“Yawn. No matter how much I sleep, I’m still tired. Master always said the same.”
He packed up and looked around. Midiam and Ismail were still asleep.
“What time is it?”
[2:04 PM.]
The Emperor’s Voice informed him of the time.
[In a civilization at this level, just providing precise time is of immense value. Be grateful.]
“…Yeah, sure. Of course. Right.”
Azadin replied half-heartedly and lay back down.
“My body’s still fatigued… but sleep won’t come. Guess there’s no helping it.”
Azadin prodded Ismail and Midiam with his foot as they lay there.
“Up, you little ones.”
“Ugh!”
“Huh?”
The boy and girl sat up groggily.
“We were gonna appraise the bone wand, right?”
“Yeah. Hand it over.”
“It might be cursed, so I’ll do it.”
Ismail took the bone wand from Midiam and began channeling mana into it.
“What do you see?”
“Green and black imagery.”
“Green and black mana? The King of Fangs should have red mixed in. Something from another Kurt Godkin?”
“Yes. The function is… it locates specific things, makes you find specific things. The mana inside is limited, so it’ll break after a few uses. Not powerful. Mass-produced. But still, the maker’s skill is astonishing. Made it well from cheap materials without much effort.”
“Hmm.”
Azadin clicked his tongue upon hearing that.
“I figured it was Kurt Godkin since it’s bone and they had it, but now it’s confirmed. This thing….”
“Hm?”
“Nah. I’ll hold onto it.”
The ogre gang who had this wand must have come tracking the replica of the Chart of the Divine King that Azadin carried.
But if he told Midiam and Ismail its function, they’d want to try it, and the wand would point to the nearest Chart of the Divine King replica—himself.
‘No need to let these kids know I have a replica of the Chart of the Divine King. Wait. If I do have one, they’ll keep targeting me….’
Pursuers would keep coming. He needed to hurry.
“We need to head to Sarasma fast.”
“Shall we leave now?”
“No. Let’s eat and gear up first.”
He was in a rush, but he’d already smashed one scout unit of ogres and goblins, and recovered the bone wand from the mercenaries. No reason to rush without eating.
Plus, if someone among the mercenaries could use this bone wand… they’d definitely react to it going missing.
‘Keep a safe distance and tail them. Might see something fun.’
*********
“You gotta be kidding me, you bastards!”
Tarki flew into a rage. Valuable loot like silver candelabras and silver plates were gone, but the mercenaries were playing innocent.
“You stashed them somewhere to grab later, didn’t you! You scum! After all we’ve….”
“No!”
“We really were attacked. Look at this.”
The mercenaries who’d been on sentry duty protested their innocence and showed their necks. Clear handprints were etched there. But Tarki ignored them.
“You’re not missing limbs or anything. You could fake marks like that easy and claim some thief we never saw exists! If you’re telling the truth, you’re saying a thief snuck into an armed mercenary camp, didn’t stab you sentries with a poisoned dagger, but just grabbed you by hand and knocked you out?”
“No, that’s….”
“Y-Yeah.”
Then the mercenary captain clicked his tongue.
“Arrowheads and grain sacks are gone too.”
“Grain?”
“Yes. And… one of my items is missing. Doesn’t look like ordinary bandits.”
Tarki wasn’t stupid. Whether the captain was telling the truth didn’t matter.
The issue was the captain’s feelings. If he thought he’d been insulted, the mercenaries would turn on Tarki in an instant.
‘Guess this is as far as it goes.’
He didn’t know who stole the loot, but pushing the mercenaries further could spark a mutiny.
“Tch, fine. We’ll call it an attack. Penalty: docking the pay of the sentries who failed. That square?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
The penalized mercenaries looked displeased, but their employer was the bastard son of influential nobility—getting emotional wouldn’t work.
“Hmm.”
But the mercenary captain himself, unaffected by the pay dock, wasn’t pleased.
“Punishing my men’s lapse with that is fine. The problem is my missing item.”
“Huh? What was it?”
“Hahaha. Can’t say.”
The captain let out a hearty laugh.
“Whatever. Must not be important.”
“It is. The thief who took it… probably headed to the nearest village. Could you order that village requisitioned for me, Sir Tarki?”
“What? No, wait—the closest village is that relay station we passed on the way. Can’t touch a place with a relay.”
Farmer fields or pioneer villages could be wiped off maps anytime, easy to raid.
But villages with border checkpoints or relays couldn’t be touched easily. Key hubs like those were marked on the king’s maps and strictly managed by lords.
The eastern checkpoint village they’d raided just days ago was called that and had a gate, but wasn’t on the king’s map.
It was a gate on a wasteland road, not a border proper, so off the map—and free to raid.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll raid it on your orders or not.”
“Huh? What? What’s that mean?”
Tarki eyed the mercenary captain oddly at the strange words.
Then.
-Stab!
The captain drew a dagger and plunged it into Tarki’s lower belly.
“Gah?!”
“Huh? Captain!”
The mercenaries were stunned by the sudden insubordination. Stabbing the employer in the gut out of nowhere?
“W-What are you doing?”
“Relax. This is… a dagger from a witch.”
“Uh.”
Tarki was shocked. A sharp sensation had pierced his belly for sure… but no blood flowed, no wound.
No—the dagger embedded in his belly morphed into a bizarre spider, which…
-Scuttle scuttle!
Sucked right into his gut greedily.
“Eek!?”
“See that?”
“Spider!”
“Ahem.”
The captain smirked, glaring at Sir Tarki.
“It’s harmless for now. Right?”
“You bastard. What have you….”
Tarki indignantly drew his sword.
Bastard son or not, Tarki was the illegitimate child of nobles wealthy enough to hire a mercenary band like this.
He’d trained rigorously in swordsmanship since childhood, his skill something even veteran mercenaries couldn’t dismiss. But the fight never started.
“You’d be wise to stay put.”
The captain whistled.
“Gah?!”
A tearing pain suddenly ripped through Tarki’s lower belly, and he crumpled forward. His sword slipped from his hand and rolled across the ground.
“Now, now, calm down.”
“T-This….”
Cold sweat poured down Tarki’s face. He’d been fine when stabbed, but now the pain was unbearable, his face ashen.
“The spider inside you just nipped your flesh a bit.”
“What?”
“Ignoring me, and it lays eggs in your gut. Oh man… the last guy who died from this? Horrific sight. Even I had to drown myself in booze to sleep after seeing it.”
“You stabbed me and now you say that? No, before that—what is this? Magic? Spider-related magic means Kurt Godkin magic?”
“I just got it from a passing witch. Don’t know much.”
“Bullshit!”
“Ahem, watch your mouth.”
The captain whistled again.
“Gaaah!”
Tarki convulsed, rolling on the ground.