The Naive Heart (3)
Adam and I had climbed to high positions in the mercenary corps over the time we’d spent there. No one could challenge our promotions. We had contributed enough to the corps that our influence was undeniable. With our status came the luxury of being stationed further away from the front lines, and the money was rolling in, too. I even started to think that living like this might be comfortable enough.
We began attending officer meetings. In truth, it was hardly a meeting. There was always alcohol, food, and women present. It was, for all intents and purposes, a debauched party.
"Berg! Adam! You’re here. Sit down."
The leader, a lizardman named Malak, welcomed us with women draped over both his arms. Many other demi-human officers were already seated. Greasy, succulent roasted meat, various appetizers, and expensive liquor awaited us. Malak pretended to welcome us, but his eyes always held a trace of wariness. It was only natural; as we had earned our positions through sheer merit, we held the support of the rank-and-file members. As the leader, he likely felt threatened. Furthermore, since Adam and I were both human and tightly knit, we might have been perceived as a faction of our own.
Adam and I took our seats.
"Oh my... I want to play with this one. He's so handsome..."
A dark elf woman naturally sat down next to me. I stopped her as she tried to wrap her arms around me, as smooth as water.
"Don't touch me."
Watching that, Adam nearly spat out the drink he was consuming. I didn't pay any mind to Adam’s laughter or the dark elf’s embarrassment. I just sipped the free liquor placed in front of me.
The meeting proceeded on its own. I always just drank at these meetings. Not many people spoke to me, as I never showed much of a reaction. As time passed, the room was dominated by lewd jokes and profanity, punctuated by laughter. I didn't share in their mirth. I just filled my stomach with meat and drank.
Then, Malak, the leader, opened fire by singling out Adam.
"Adam. By the way, I heard there was some friction with the vice-captain during the last battle."
Adam, who had been flirting with the woman next to him, shrugged at Malak’s remark.
"Is there anything to call friction? The plan just went slightly awry, that's all."
"That’s not what the vice-captain said."
"What did the vice-captain say?"
"He said you didn't follow orders."
The meeting turned icy in an instant at Malak’s cold, sharp tone. It was clear that Malak wasn't pointing this out as a joke. I read the atmosphere of the meeting while pretending to drink. It was a familiar feeling. I felt like we were being targeted.
Adam set his glass down, sensing the mood first.
"...It’s not that I didn't obey orders. The situation simply changed."
"So you acted on your own? Isn't that insubordination?"
"Since the situation changed, I made the best choice I could. I was separated from the vice-captain, so how could I wait for his instructions and then act? Didn't I explain this properly before?"
"I heard the details from the vice-captain, and it doesn't seem like that was the case."
"..."
The smile that had been lingering on Adam’s face gradually hardened. I followed suit and set my glass down. Adam said:
"...Regardless, all of my men survived. I’d have thought you’d give us an award instead."
"Do I look like I'm joking right now?"
Another short silence. Malak was picking a fight. It looked like he was trying to properly keep Adam, who had earned glory this time, in check. Adam finally spoke.
"My apologies. Next time, I will be sure to follow orders properly."
"That’s not it, Adam. I’ve decided not to let this slide easily. There is nothing that puts comrades in as much danger as insubordination on the battlefield. As for the punishment—"
"-Hmph."
BANG!
Adam slammed his fist onto the table. Every officer in the room jumped and recoiled. But Adam, the one who had acted, looked at me.
"...Berg."
"..."
"I think it's time. Let's start our own mercenary corps. I was looking for an opportunity anyway."
When I nodded, Adam stood up from his seat. I followed him, standing up as well. Adam put that smile back on his face and spoke to Malak.
"Leader. Thank you for everything until now. I have a feeling we’ll just keep clashing from here on out. In that case, we’ll be leaving the corps."
Malak digested Adam’s words for a moment before erupting in anger, reaching for his sword.
"Where do you think you're—"
Countless officers followed suit, placing their hands on their hilts. But I drew my sword faster than any of them.
"-Leader, sit down."
I warned him, pointing my drawn blade at his throat. It was a strange feeling to point a weapon at the throat of the leader I had always followed. Malak froze instantly. The other officers were the same. There was a massive difference between us, who had earned our officer positions purely through strength, and the others who had risen through politics. Furthermore, those who had distanced themselves from combat to drink and eat meat could not compare to us, who still trained every single day. Everyone understood that fact. You could see it just by looking at our physiques.
Adam left the room first. I remained alone and said to them:
"Since we're parting ways, let's not make it messy."
"..."
I waited for a moment, but no one dared to challenge me. I sheathed my sword and followed Adam.
This was something that was bound to happen eventually. I had expected it, so my acceptance was quick. I would have to give up all the status I held and start over, but it didn't matter. I also had a desire to keep watching the path Adam was forging. From the beginning, this wasn't a place I wanted to stay forever.
Even so, Adam must have been grateful that I followed him without a word, as he offered his thanks.
"Berg, thank you."
I smirked.
"And here I thought you were just acting cool."
Within a few months, we had established our own mercenary corps. We had quite a hard time thinking of a name. Adam’s suggestions were always ridiculous.
"The Crimson Flame Sword and Shield Corps."
"That’s terrible."
"Hey! Where are you going to find a name as good as this...!?"
"Please, just pick something normal. No one will come if you name it that."
"Then how about just the Red Flame Mercenary Corps?"
"...Better than before."
Building the mercenary corps was quite fun. The biggest advantage was that we could operate it according to the principles we established.
"Let's only accept humans," Adam decided.
"Mixing races just leads to fighting anyway. We need to be able to trust each other with our backs."
Even without him explaining it, I understood his meaning. The distance between different races was not something that could be easily bridged. I had learned and felt that through years of experience. In the end, it’s more comfortable to have your own kind by your side. Since there are no cultural differences, there are fewer disputes. No matter how you looked at it, there was no reason to go out of your way to accept other races.
Adam appropriately infused his warm personality into the principles of the corps. He wanted to build a mercenary corps where fewer people died. He didn't want to create a group that just threw numbers at monsters; he wanted a corps where every single person was an expert. Accordingly, we carefully and painstakingly selected our members. Fitness tests, physical exams, intelligence tests, and so on... We cut all the applicants who looked like they would break easily. Even those who were selected had to pass grueling training.
He and I drove the recruits to an extreme degree. I, in particular, was hated by the members. But I didn't care if I was hated. Thinking that their lives depended on my hands, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of discomfort. I wanted to fulfill my responsibilities.
We didn't neglect anything: swordsmanship training, tactical training, survival training. We taught them everything—the weaknesses of monsters, their types, everything. Adam naturally began to be called the Captain, and I was called the Vice-Captain. As we operated the corps according to Adam’s methods, casualties dropped to a level incomparable to our previous corps.
Because we were so selective with applicants, it was difficult to scale up, but a solid foundation was being built. Excluding the training, the members' satisfaction was high. As their survival rate increased, the hatred toward me turned into respect.
As a result, our Red Flame Mercenary Corps, which had a slightly different character from ordinary groups, began to spread by word of mouth, and we gradually grew our scale. As the scale grew, the requests we received became more dangerous, and the pay increased. We were able to grow continuously. Watching the mercenary corps we built with our own hands grow, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.
When everyone moves as one body and catches monsters with one purpose, a sense of camaraderie is inevitable. I was happy, even if I didn't show it, to have comrades I could truly trust with my back, rather than people who picked fights every day or colleagues who changed overnight.
Thus, five more years passed. I turned twenty-four. Adam was twenty-six. Our Red Flame Mercenary Corps had reached a significant trajectory. Many people remembered the name of our corps. We even started receiving requests from nobles occasionally. Adam’s plan to start his own mercenary corps could be considered a success.
One day, while sharing a drink with him, he smiled and said:
"I told you my mercenary corps would be different, didn't I?"
I burst into a smirk at his words.