Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Assassin Salesman 2
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"Yes. But you understand my position. Sir Jibek, you need a chance to earn some merit anyway, with that issue hanging over you. If you repel the bandits who attacked Baroness Nort's manor, you could receive a pardon without having to become a Penitent Knight."
"Then what about the friends you hired with your own money?"
"The young master told me to hire the Cell Sword Guild or other adventurers, but who in their right mind would agree to storm Baroness Nort's house? So I picked able-bodied guys from the refugees, and they all jumped at the chance."
"...."
"It cost a bit more to equip them with weapons, sure. But these refugee youths are a dime a dozen everywhere. Even if a few go missing, no one will notice."
The young master's steward, Belldon, said quietly enough not to be overheard.
"Are you telling me to kill refugee youths?"
Belldon was urging Sir Jibek to claim merit by letting him hire the bandits, then striking them from behind.
But Sir Jibek didn't like it. Even if he had to become a Penitent Knight, wasn't this too underhanded?
'The Heralds of the Herald Clan value honor—how could I stoop to that?'
But Chief Officer Maya, who had been listening from the side, was delighted.
"What a great opportunity, Sir Jibek. You have to take it."
"Isn't it?"
"You're talking nonsense. Belldon, pay them the promised fee and send them packing right now. I'll handle the young master."
"What? Oh no, that's a disaster. Then I'll be the one in trouble. You know how the young master is...."
"Sir Jibek. Come on...."
Maya was exasperated by Sir Jibek's stubbornness.
"Huh? Wait, you people?"
Maya spotted a man with a boy and a girl among the passersby.
"You've come to Salasma too?"
"Oh, Chief Officer?"
It was Azadin, Midiam, and Ismail.
"Hm? Do you know Sir Maya?"
"Yes. These are the pilgrims I saw during the black magic disaster. They say he's quite skilled."
"I imagine so."
Sir Jibek gave a wry smile. It seemed Maya didn't know Azadin was from the Herald Clan.
"Long time no see."
"Ah, Sir Jibek. You're here too."
"You know Sir Jibek as well?"
Maya was simply amazed.
"Yeah, by chance. Are you looking for your father, Chief Officer?"
Azadin asked innocently, despite having killed her father himself.
"No. I couldn't find him anywhere, so I returned to my post for now. There's so much to do. My father—Sir Gazrek—is a model knight of the order. He's surely carrying out his mission. He must be safe."
"...."
There was a limit to nepotism, but hearing Sir Gazrek—who hadn't hesitated to massacre civilians to cover up their mistakes—called a model knight made Azadin struggle to keep a straight face.
"Oh, what's going on?"
"Well...."
Sir Jibek explained honestly.
"Young Master Kozel hired poor refugee youths to attack Baroness Nort's manor. Success means the gallows, failure means death, yet so many volunteered. It shows just how dire things are for the refugees."
"Ah...."
Belldon panicked.
"H-How can you tell outsiders?"
"He's trustworthy. He can keep a secret."
Sir Jibek said it and surprised even himself. A holy knight of the King's Church was vouching for Azadin, the Emperor's Herald. Azadin gave a wry smile upon hearing it.
"Is this the one handling the hiring?"
"That's right."
"Ah, uh, well."
Belldon was flustered by how quickly things were moving. Then Azadin spoke.
"Sorry, but hiring people who've never held a sword before is useless. Don't make these poor folks bleed for nothing—hire some real professionals."
"Real professionals?"
"That's me."
"...."
Midiam and Ismail, who had been listening, stuck out their tongues.
'B-Bold.'
'Is he sane?'
"...."
Even Sir Jibek, listening in, let out a sigh.
"Sir Maya, let's give them some space."
"Yes?"
"There's a good reason."
Sir Jibek stepped aside to let Azadin talk privately with Belldon. Or perhaps he was avoiding hearing something dirty he couldn't unhear.
*********
That evening, Azadin had left Baroness Nort's manor and scouted the count's castle. But he couldn't even casually circle the perimeter. Every spot with a view inside was guarded by soldiers under watchtowers.
"Is the count that paranoid?"
Refugees were flooding Salasma, creating chaos. Starving, impoverished people displaced from their homes—some begged, which was the least bad, but others turned to theft, robbery, prostitution, and murder, rapidly worsening public order. Controlling them required a lot of manpower.
To maintain the city's stability, most of the standing army had to be diverted to policing. Yet astonishingly, the count ignored the surrounding chaos and focused solely on fortifying his own castle.
No way to get in like this.
"Couldn't we use the sewers? Wererats broke into the baroness's manor that way, right?"
Midiam suggested as she followed along.
"I checked the sewers, but there's a massive iron gate in the middle. Even I don't think I could break through it."
It was a one-way door meant only for escaping the count's castle, not entering. Standard for a proper secret tunnel.
"Maybe there's a mechanism outside that lets you in? If we search carefully?"
"Didn't seem like it. Hm, should I scale the wall at night? But then...."
Azadin considered jumping the wall at night and clicked his tongue. Without knowing the internal layout, guard numbers, or patrol routes, it'd be a mistake waiting to happen.
Sneaking in while subduing patrols or servants would be different, but that meant harming innocents. He could knock them out cleanly if lucky, but bad luck could mean killing someone innocent.
Guided by the faith of the Knights of Salvation, Azadin didn't want to kill innocents. Infiltrating at night required thorough prior scouting.
"I need to ask the baroness about everyone who comes and goes from the count's castle. A map would be ideal if possible. His legitimate wife and kids must come and go."
"How? Disguise as a servant? No noble would hire someone in a helmet or eyepatch as a servant."
Midiam pointed that out. Azadin could pass as blind to garner sympathy, but "blind" was too memorable a trait. He couldn't easily disguise himself to slip in.
"No choice, then. Should I spend time breaking through that iron gate?"
He couldn't smash it outright, but with tools and time, he could destroy it. Azadin decided that and, on his way back, ran into Sir Jibek's group.
*********
That's when the refugee youths swarmed over.
"What's the talk about, boss?"
"No, this helmeted guy says hire him instead of us?"
"What?"
They surrounded Azadin. But he didn't flinch at all.
"Sorry, but you're not up to it. I'll give you a little money, so take it and be satisfied. This line of work isn't for you."
"Hey, you're looking down on us!"
The refugee bandit youths bristled. Then Azadin pulled out a gold coin in front of them. Not an imperial gold, but a standard Eight Kingdoms light gold.
"Huh?"
"What's this? Flaunting your wealth?"
"No, want to make a bet with me?"
"A bet?"
"If you win against me, this is yours."
"...."
The bandit youths' eyes gleamed with greed at the sight of the gold.
"W-What is it?"
"Simple."
Azadin nodded to Midiam.
"Draw a circle twice shoulder-width around my feet."
Midiam pulled out chalk and drew a circle under Azadin's feet.
"Like this?"
"Yeah, good."
Azadin held up the gold coin and said to them,
"If you push me out of this circle, the gold's yours."
"...What?"
"But if you lose, go home quietly and rely on the Knights of Salvation's relief with your families."
"Y-You bastard!"
"How much do you think we're a joke!"
The refugee youths raged at Azadin's provocation.
"Ah, wait. Why are you deciding on your own...."
Young Master Kozel's steward Belldon was embarrassed. He'd planned to sacrifice them to sate the young master's vengeance and pin the blame.
Of course, this wasn't for a mere steward to decide. But contrary to Belldon's expectations, things were going off-script.
"Time limit...."
Azadin flicked the gold coin into the air.
The coin soared high, then fell back into Azadin's hand.
"Ten flicks of the coin. If I fail to catch it even once, you win. If you win, you get this one too."
"....!"
"How about it? You in?"
"No!"
"Yeah!"
Azadin flicked the coin. At that moment, the bandits charged him all at once.
"Get him!"
"Kill him!"
But Azadin's index finger struck the first youth's philtrum dead-on. As the paralyzing shock made the youth freak out, Azadin grabbed his head, hooked his arm, and spun him around inside the circle.
"Uwaaaah!"
Like a bull dragged by reins, the bandit youth raced across the ground. Those crowding in to push Azadin got swept up, crashing and tumbling in the chaos.
Azadin spun the guy once, then hurled him away. The bandit youths toppled like bowling pins, and Azadin caught the falling coin from the sky.
"One."
"...."
"Whoa."
The onlookers were floored.
Even Midiam and Ismail, who knew Azadin's skills, were stunned by his display.
"What? Not coming at me anymore?"
"N-No."
"We're good."
Azadin had offered ten coin tosses generously, but one round broke their will completely.
"Hm. Ismail."
"Yes?"
"Give them this."
Azadin handed Ismail a few silver coins. Ismail passed them to the bandits, who stripped off their leather armor and weapons and returned them to Belldon.
"Wha—wait! Hold on...."
Belldon panicked, but the refugee youths, having tasted defeat at Azadin's hands, were too busy dividing the money to care.