White Whale's Footsteps
From the opposing lord's perspective, it was truly pitiful. He had done his absolute best, maximizing the hand he was dealt from such a disadvantaged position.
'No helping it. Luck just wasn't on his side.'
He had secretly informed only the mercenaries that they had recruited the entire Iron Lion group. It was to deter our lord from hiring mercenaries of his own. Fights between mercenary groups of similar caliber usually went as scripted, like today... but if the opponents hadn't been the White Whale, and had instead been some mid-tier outfit? The Iron Lions would have undoubtedly crushed them mercilessly. That's how they'd earn their bonus pay.
In other words, no sane small mercenary band would side with us. And indeed, the opposing lord's gambit had worked perfectly. Aside from the White Whale, not a single other mercenary was in sight.
As intended, the high-ranking mage must have broken a sweat holding off the Iron Lions. If not for our intervention.
A high-rank mage's name carried weight, but even they couldn't fully block 150 Iron Lions. Victory wasn't impossible. In the original story, the opposing lord had pegged his odds at 2:8. Twenty percent? Worth a shot. At least too tempting to just fold.
But... as I said, luck deserted him. His greatest misfortune was that the news—whispered only to the mercenaries about recruiting the Iron Lions—had reached Janet's ears, even from a distance.
'Janet said she negotiated a hefty fee from the lord's proxy. She played her cards well.'
With no troops to counter the Iron Lions, our lord had to secure the White Whale. Landing them would boost his near-80% win rate to damn near 100%. For a lord flush with faction backing and deep pockets, the hiring cost wouldn't sting much.
Conclusion: The true victor of this territorial war was the White Whale.
- Cling... Clang...
Soon, word would reach the opposing lord. That we had recruited the White Whale mercenary group. With his trusted Iron Lions tied down, he had only one choice left.
- BOOM!!
At that moment, a familiar explosive roar echoed from afar. Loud enough to drown out the mercenaries' chatter.
I knew exactly what it was without effort.
"...Fireball."
But this was nothing like the ones I knew. Laughably inferior to Kaya's. Now I understood why "high-rank" prefixed our supporting mages.
The blasts didn't stop at one. Proving there were three mages, two more detonations rocked what I assumed was the enemy command tent.
- Whoosh!
A fierce gust swept across the plain. The wind that slapped my face had cooled to lukewarm after traveling far.
The mercenaries fell silent, eyes locked on the mana-fueled fireworks. Magic was a rare miracle even to them.
"...It's over."
"They're gonna surrender any second."
Sizing up the battlefield, the mercenaries called it. The enemy was visibly rattled. Our troops, in contrast, erupted in cheers, morale soaring. Victory was plain for anyone to see.
Moments later, white flags rose across the enemy lines, ending the territorial war.
The White Whale was invited to the lord's castle. The lord wanted to host a feast in their honor.
With the territorial war wrapped up and no urgent matters pressing, Janet—who saw no reason to refuse—accepted on the spot.
"Ugh, ugh... To think I'd get to see a noble in my lifetime..."
"They don't expect etiquette from mercenaries anyway. Just don't screw up big-time?"
"Th-that's... a relief, then..."
Aside from Mel, no one seemed tense. Feasts were old hat to these folks.
Surprisingly, this honor came right after battle. It struck me as odd. Fine in a novel, but experiencing it firsthand? Definitely fishy.
'Inviting us the very day the war ends?'
I got why they had the bandwidth. Ending it in one day meant minimal fallout. But they had VIP guests: the high-rank mages. Common sense said prioritize entertaining your faction's mages over some departing sellswords.
'And throwing us in together makes even less sense...'
For me, meeting the mages would've been ideal. Peeking at their status and skill windows? Priceless intel.
But in the original, Mel never crossed paths with them.
Curiosity killed the cat—or so they say. I asked the old butler waiting at the village entrance.
"Our domain welcomes the White Whale mercenary group, who fought for our lord."
- Bow.
The neatly dressed elder, introducing himself as head butler, led the way. We followed toward the distant castle gates.
- Thud thud.
I shot Chris a quick glance. Instead of meekly trailing, I opted to chat him up. For mage intel.
I flashed a gentle smile. A well-groomed guy showing goodwill? Hard to frown at.
"Hello, sir."
"Ah, hello."
"I'm Park Chanyoung. Embarrassing to admit, but... I'm in theology."
Hitting him up as a brute mercenary versus a scholar? Worlds apart in first impressions. Hence the cleric facade. Skipped the defrocking bit, though. A devout old-timer might dock points for that.
I ignored Janet's intrigued stare from behind. She had enough sense not to butt in.
"Ah, theology? Sorry, I don't know much about religion."
"No need. Who dares claim mastery of faith? Even lifelong parishioners studying doctrine can't."
"...Heh heh... Wise words, indeed."
Polishing his blind spots worked. His gaze softened. First impression: solid.
Time to pivot. Deep theology grilling would corner me too. Sure, I had excuses, but dodging them altogether was best.
"If I may... Are the mages in the castle?"
"You mean those who led us to victory alongside the White Whale today?"
"Yes. As a cleric, I'd love to ask the mana scholars a question or two..."
Actual chat might flop. Cleric-mage relations? Who knows. And high-rank mages in novels are notoriously prickly.
But I didn't need chit-chat. Just a glimpse. Their skills... and what level earned the "high-rank" tag.
"Alas... regrettably, the high-rank mages have already left the domain."
"Just hours after the war ended... already?"
"As you know, they've devoted their lives to mana studies. Even our lord's lavish hospitality couldn't sway them..."
"They turned it all down and left, huh."
"Precisely."
Now it clicked why we got the "today" invite. Mages were the planned stars, but they bailed fast. So, repurpose the feast for us.
'Damn... didn't even glimpse a mage.'
They'd holed up in fancy tents pre-war, never showing hide nor hair. Bummer, but next time.
Bright side: This feast would be top-shelf. No lord serves high-rank mages slop.
Thanked the accommodating butler and turned back to Chris.
- Grab.
Janet snagged me en route. She whispered, inaudible to him.
- Whisper whisper...
"Weren't you defrocked? You're no cleric anymore."
"Technically laicization, not breaking vows. I chose to leave the cloth."
"...Some story there?"
"Not top secret... ties to broadening my horizons."
"Hmm... fine. Curious, but won't pry."
She released my arm. Finally, back to Chris—who'd eyed the grab uneasily.
Time for a chat. Why the extra wariness toward Janet?
"Chris? Back in District 11 combat lodge, I had other female teammates besides you."
"Yeah?"
"You laughed and joked with them no problem. So why the edge with Janet after one chat?"
I'd even eaten with those women. Chris included, sure. But Janet alone got her hackles up.
"Well... logically... I'm kinda doing her dirty..."
"Huh?"
"It's just a gut feeling, really."
"Gut? Like what?"
"Feels like... you and her might get... y'know, tangled?"
"Hmm..."
"...Yeah, sounds crazy. Sorry... my imagination."
Awkward smile. She knew it rang hollow even to her.
I probed further.
"...Ever get that vibe with other women around me?"
"None of the District 11 girls... Oh! Ri Shaolin, your training camp buddy?"
"Ri Shaolin? Then it's just paranoia. We're barely connected."
"Right? You two hardly cross paths."
- Sigh...
Chris brightened, relieved. I forced a small laugh to mask my shock.
Without Natural Healing, I'd be rattled. Her "gut" wasn't dismissible.
"...I'll curb these dumb suspicions. Get along with Janet, too."
"Good plan."
I punted the issue to future-me. No slip-ups anytime soon.
- Thud thud.
Glancing up, the castle loomed close. We'd kept pace amid chatter.
Prepped Chris, whispering low.
- Whisper.
"Pull your sword from subspace now."
"Why?"
"They'll confiscate weapons at the gate. Spot the subspace artifact, they'll make you ditch it. But you don't actually have one, right?"
"Aha..."
She sheathed and belted her sword as advised. Butler, eyes front, missed it.