Chapter 388: Silver Mercenary (5)

The Three Sisters Peninsula is the region in the world with the most consistent demand for mercenaries.

It is the greatest trading hub, with nomads to the north, Easterners to the east, and monsters and pirates to the south.

Mercenaries earned good money, but few of them saved up properly and retired at the right time. Those who would plan their futures so diligently would never have become sellswords in the first place.

Moreover, the free cities to the south had cultivated all manner of pleasure businesses to recoup the money spent on mercenaries. Everyone squandered their earnings quickly, and those who were defeated badly and captured were left with nothing but their bodies, having to start over.

This made it very easy for Eugene to hire mercenaries to serve as support for the merfolk subjugation.

“Damn it. Getting paid three copper coins a day to march into battle. How did I, Dual-Axe Ralfus, end up like this…”

The scruffy-haired giant who was peeling camp potatoes for the cooking unit grumbled. There had been a time when he earned a silver coin a day.

“What’s the point of a nickname like Dual-Axe when all you’ve got are your fists and a pair of balls?”

“Shut up.”

Ralfus couldn’t retort to the fellow mercenary mocking him from right beside him.

He had once been treated as an elite mercenary after lucking into finishing off a knight who’d been struck by a stray arrow and claiming his fine armor, and a few more jobs had gone well after that.

But his luck ended right there. He’d gotten involved in a territorial war in the north, suffered a crushing defeat, and was captured as a prisoner. Everything was confiscated.

-Your luck’s rough, huh? Let’s meet on the same side next time.

He was at least able to save his life because he’d been captured by an enemy mercenary company. There was a tradition on the Three Sisters Peninsula that fellow mercenaries, even if enemies, would release captives.

But everything except his underwear and pants had been seized, so all he could do was odd jobs. And that was exactly what Eugene needed.

-You need mercenaries?

-Everywhere you look in the city, mercenaries are overflowing. I’ll pay above average, so please recommend some good ones.

-Your Majesty, rumors have spread that you’re setting out to subjugate the merfolk lair. It won’t be easy to find volunteers.

-Don’t misunderstand. I’m not planning to use them as shields. The main battle will be fought by my direct forces. I just need people for the dirty work. I’ll also conscript them for non-combat guard duty.

-If that’s the case, the Dawn Watchmen, who specialize in night watch, happen to be in the city. I’ll mix in some cheap-bodied fellows and arrange them for you.

Using the main force as marksmen and the mercenary company as support would allow the main force to manage their stamina more freely.

Quite a few mercenaries ended up marching from Spardia City to the Crystal Cave. Primarily Dawn Watchmen mercenaries and those who were cheap for various reasons.

“At least there’s no bloodshed, right? Three coppers for staying safe in the rear isn’t bad. Plus they share some food, so we save a lot on meals too.”

“I heard they bought sheep, so I was hoping, but I didn’t expect them to actually share meat stew.”

The mercenaries peeling potatoes with Ralfus spoke up.

It was mostly offal, bones, and tough cuts in the stew, but for non-combatants, getting this much was unusual. Though their time together had been short, the treatment was good and everyone seemed satisfied.

“They called him King Meyer, right? First time I’ve ever seen a king. He’s clearly different stock. Big, his axe is big, his horse is big, damn it… Everything about him is big.”

Naturally, conversation couldn’t help but turn to their employer. The working conditions were good, but the man himself was a knight of extraordinary prowess.

“They say he even took down a dragon.”

“Oh, come on, a dragon? Some northern royal families claim their ancestors were hybrids who mated with gods or whatever. You think that’s true?”

“It’s true. The city guard who entered the magical castle he rode in said so. The bones of a dragon are displayed there, this big…”

“…”

The mercenaries’ eyes grew even colder as they listened. The feat of slaying a dragon was already hard to believe, let alone a castle that flew through the sky.

“But looking at the axe he carries, it does seem like he could take down a dragon.”

“When we were short on firewood, he chopped down an armful-sized tree in one swing from the roadside. With that, he could probably lop off a dragon’s head too.”

Many had witnessed Eugene wielding Blackout, so this much was undeniable. Even elite soldiers in shield formation would be completely crushed by a few swings of that axe.

“If he’s a warrior strong enough to take down a dragon, that’s probably why he became king of the elves.”

The conversation naturally shifted to the Silver Mercenary Company. Eugene, who had an elf for a wife and commanded dark elf nomads as his army.

In reality, the relationship was more complex, but to the ignorant mercenaries, he could only appear as a king who ruled over both fairy races. These people couldn’t even properly distinguish between a great lord and a king.

“I’ll never forget the guard duty I pulled on the night of the full moon. I’d just woken up and was heading to my post, and my eyelids kept drooping. While I was rubbing my eyes to stay awake, I bumped into a fairy woman just finishing her shift.”

A mercenary belonging to the Dawn Watchmen recalled the memory with a dreamy expression.

-Are you tired? There are no clouds tonight and the moon is beautiful. Look up at the sky. You’ll wake up soon.

The beautiful face of the dark elf female warrior who had smiled softly and patted his shoulder. There, the aura of the moon had gathered, giving off a faint glow.

“In an instant, all my sleepiness vanished. My heart was pounding like I’d been sprinting.”

The other mercenaries nodded in agreement.

“She was damn beautiful.”

“I thought the noble ladies I saw working in the north were the best, but they were nothing.”

The opportunity to observe fairy women up close while marching was a privilege unmatched by any other commission.

True to their mercenary nature, they all frequented brothels, but none of the women they’d seen could compare to these strong warrior women.

Faces sculpted by nature with love, tall and slender frames, bodies honed by unceasing training, and the confident gaze that radiated from all of it.

“If I work really hard, maybe someday…”

“Oh, you’ve got to aim for things you can actually achieve, you idiot.”

The mercenary dreaming impossible dreams received glares from all around. Naturally, everyone’s eyes turned to the front of the camp. On a hill overlooking the Crystal Cave, Valda waited for her husband’s return.

The golden-haired, golden-eyed elf princess seated in a side saddle on the golden horse Ellyon. Her presence was such that it seemed the sunlight was absorbed by her flowing hair and then released.

That heart-stirring sight drew the mercenaries’ interest back to the king.

“I’m jealous.”

“Marrying an elf princess is a greater feat than slaying a dragon, isn’t it? Neither the king of Roman nor the Caliph of the Empire managed that.”

“Doesn’t the Caliph’s harem include elves?”

“Don’t be stupid. Those are concubines brought in through slave traders. They can’t compare to a real princess.”

“But I heard she’s not a princess but a queen?”

“Enough! Enough!”

The head cook appeared and shouted them down.

“Hurry up and peel those potatoes! To make a thick stew, you’ve got to peel everything we’ve got here.”

The head cook held the most authority in this camp. The mercenaries grumbled but set to work with their daggers.

“I, Dual-Axe Ralfus, should be wielding an axe on the battlefield, not playing with this toy…”

“Oh, shut up. If your hands are idle, we have to peel your share too!”

But soon a messenger arrived, and Ralfus was freed from potato duty.

“His Majesty has completed the subjugation of the merfolk lair! He orders that mercenaries and Might be sent for loot collection!”

The mercenaries were suspicious. Even hearing of victory, entering the terrifying merfolk lair didn’t appeal to them.

“I’ll go! Send me!”

That was why the obviously strong-looking Ralfus could immediately be included in the collection team.

* * *

Arriving at the merfolk hatchery, Might’s eyes immediately went wild.

The moment he entered, a rich, savory aroma pierced through his nostrils and stimulated his lungs. Golden liquid overflowing everywhere tempted the beast.

“A gift for you. Eat as much as you’d like.”

Where Eugene pointed, 300 intact eggs were arranged.

-Don’t break these. We’ll need to serve them to the VIP who’s coming later.

These were things Eugene had set aside thinking of Might. The beast went crazy for any kind of eggs.

Sometimes, as a special treat, Eugene would crack dozens of raw eggs over raw meat and make a special tartare for him?

Might would suck up the eggs before the meat. He would use his tongue with surgical precision to pluck the eggs one by one, and only after savoring their taste would he eat the meat.

Might approached his master with a genuinely touched expression and rubbed his cheek against him. It was only the second time he’d teared up since being banned from the Barcia Tournament.

Soon after, his greedy mouth began cracking open the merfolk eggs and gulping down whites and yolks.

Gulp gulp.

The sight was like watching a puppy eat sweet potatoes. Especially those wide, round eyes. This was probably the first time he’d had this many eggs to eat without restraint.

Meanwhile, his subordinates had piled up loot gathered from various places. Homi brought over a golden eagle statue from among the haul, and the manufacturing date engraved on the back caught Eugene’s eye.

“This is a Second Era artifact, isn’t it?”

“The Ancient Kingdom’s influence extended here too. They probably picked it up from a shipwreck from that era.”

Among the loot, there were surprisingly many gold and silver crafted items, the kind that couldn’t be obtained from raiding civilian homes.

“Do merfolk like gold too?”

“Even if they do, why bring something like this to a hatchery? If there is a reason…”

Homi and Eugene both recalled the human remains they’d found at the entrance.

“These bastards really might have been trading with humans.”

“Then why were those people killed?”

“There could be many reasons. The ritual went wrong, communication broke down, or the price they offered didn’t satisfy the merfolk.”

Eugene gestured toward the merfolk who still wore fierce expressions even in death.

“These bastards wouldn’t have let them go saying ‘What a shame. Hopefully we can make a good deal next time’ if negotiations fell through, right?”

“True enough. During breeding season, they all become savage.”

Letting outsiders who’d come this far leave alive meant they could return as guides for a subjugation force. If a deal was struck, it could mean a fortune, but if it failed, combat would immediately break out. It was a gamble.

Of course, there was also a high possibility the merfolk had collected gold and silver for other reasons. The truth lay beyond.

“Grab the shell shields first.”

“These are really light. With this weight, even the peninsular fellows could carry them around and stake them in the ground when shooting…”

The dark elf warriors didn’t so much as glance at the gold and silver treasures they would normally have been fussing over. They were all excited about their new shields.

Among war equipment, shields were surprisingly troublesome to maintain. Making them from solid iron made them too heavy, so wooden shields were commonly used, but exposed to fierce attacks, they were essentially consumables.

Using high-quality wood meant costs and supply couldn’t be sustained, and using cheap materials meant they broke easily. Repairs had limits too, making it difficult to hit the trifecta of weight, performance, and supply.

“My Lord. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we raised these in the castle’s pond?”

The thought that Moving Castle could now supply its own shields had everyone grinning.

“I’m very interested in using shell shields, but raising them in Moving Castle would be difficult.”

Eugene assessed the situation coolly.

“You can’t raise them in the castle? The fish in the internal pond grow so well.”

“That’s freshwater. To grow and repair these shells, you need saltwater.”

“Can’t you just add salt?”

“It’s not enough for it to just be salty. It has to be seawater, period.”

“???”

Eugene didn’t know how to explain the biological characteristics of shells to his subordinates.

The shells of hard-shelled sea creatures, including mollusks, were composed of calcium carbonate.

Seawater was full of carbonic acid and calcium, so all the shells had to do was combine the materials that filled their bodies inside and out. Both production and transport of materials were handled free by nature.

Thanks to this, even clams and barnacles that consumed microscopic floating matter could wear armor far larger and thicker than their own bodies.

Therefore, to raise them, they had to be submerged in seawater. Sprinkling salt in the castle’s freshwater wouldn’t work because there was no carbonic acid or calcium.

Even so, transporting large quantities of seawater to the castle each time would be inefficient. What kind of technology would be needed for farming was unknown, and even if possible, the only option would be to establish a farm in Britainia.

-Should we really be introducing an invasive species into the sea so casually?

This was another concern of his. It was a completely different problem from introducing domesticated rats whose breeding could be fully controlled.

His subordinates looked somewhat disappointed by the easy explanation, but they hadn’t given up hope.

“But if it’s Moving Castle…”

To them, their home was an earthly paradise where nothing was impossible.

“It absorbs rain and fog and turns it into water. Can’t it also absorb and store seawater?”

“No, it’s not that simple…”

“My Lord.”

Since he’d never tried it, he couldn’t flatly declare it impossible. Seeing the possibility, his subordinates pressed harder.

* * *

The swiftness of sweeping away the merfolk on the very day of arrival spread far and wide. Eugene had hired mercenaries to march with him not just for the dirty work, but also to serve as word-of-mouth advertisers.

“So these are merfolk eggs. First time seeing them in person.”

The Spardia City council was satisfied as they examined the eggs brought as proof of subjugation. Even for a mercenary city, maritime trade was a major source of income.

“These are their ears.”

Eugene had ears bundled in groups of thirty piled high. In this kind of subjugation, it was common to bring back noses or ears as proof.

For goblins with long noses, you cut off noses; for flat-nosed, large-eared merfolk, you cut off ears.

“Your Majesty, you didn’t need to go this far.”

“Who would dare doubt Your Majesty’s honor? All the mercenaries who accompanied you have testified unanimously.”

The council members bowed deeply to Eugene with reverence.

“This is proper courtesy. Isn’t this what everyone does for the first trade? I’ll provide abbreviated certification once sufficient records have accumulated.”

Verbal recognition of credit required at least Silver rank. It was a procedure that Bronze and lower mercenary companies naturally went through, but the same deed could appear differently depending on one’s status.

The council praised Eugene’s fair approach.

“Your Majesty truly seems like the reincarnation of the Iron King.”

The Iron King was a hero of old who had built the Mercenary Guild on the Three Sisters Peninsula and led Spardia City to prosperity.

He wasn’t a real king, but it was true that he had blood ties to some minor royal family, and since he’d been such a remarkable figure in the mercenary world, everyone called him king.

“Oh my! What are you saying to His Majesty?”

“This young man’s words are a sign of deep respect, so please…”

Of course, comparing him to a real king like Eugene would be a perfect recipe for lèse-majesté. Eugene waved his hand at the flustered council members.

“It’s fine. He was also one who passed the trial of Volcano Whiskey, wasn’t he? If we’re evaluated side by side, that’s something to be happy about.”

“See! The king of Britainia truly understands honor. And isn’t his army just as unique as the Iron King’s?”

The young council member spoke proudly. Eugene felt curiosity about the last part.

“His army was unique?”

“Yes! Just as Your Majesty commands fairy warriors, the Iron King led Gryphon Beastkin.”

There were quite a few bird-type beastkin with wings in the world. However, very few species could actually fly with their wings; they were used for high jumps and extended hang time.

The Gryphon Beastkin, believed to have gryphon blood, had the ability to let out piercing cries that broke enemy morale.

“When the Gryphon Beastkin sang together on the battlefield, even brave enemies’ eyes wavered and their hair stood on end. There are even records of lightning falling from the sky in response to their voices, burning the enemies.”

“Your Majesty. Lightning striking by chance during battle was simply exaggerated. This young man is just too excited and babbling, so please don’t take it too seriously.”

Other council members interjected again. The young Iron King fanatic had gotten too excited upon meeting Eugene, who responded to his stories.

The council wanted to be remembered as cool-headed supporters by the king of Britainia, who wanted to build a good relationship. They didn’t want to come across as braggarts.

“Still, it is an interesting story. These are tales you can’t hear in the West.”

Having jumped into a commission that everyone avoided and resolved it in one fell swoop, Eugene’s recognition had skyrocketed. Interest came from various quarters toward the new mercenary company led by a Western king.

“We’ll set out on our next expedition immediately.”

And Eugene intended to row while the tide was in.

“Your Majesty? Isn’t it too early? Our city has much to offer. Your subordinates must want rest as well.”

“Warriors who have returned from a great success will be welcomed everywhere they visit in the city. This kind of praise is best enjoyed right after returning.”

Spardia City never left heroes alone. There was a culture where the entire citizenry lavished hospitality on mercenaries who returned from difficult commissions.

The belief was that this, in turn, elevated the status of the mercenary city and attracted excellent warriors.

Mercenary captains also didn’t miss opportunities to receive hero treatment in the city. It boosted their subordinates’ morale while extending their own tenure.

“It’s not what I want, but what my subordinates desire. They all seem eager to see the Silver-plated Mercenary Company plate.”

“Ah!”

Having accumulated considerable points from the merfolk subjugation, they were just one more difficult commission away from a direct promotion to Silver.

The dark elves took tremendous pride in the name of the Blackhand Tribe and their reputation as the Western world’s greatest warrior race.

With a Silver promotion battle ahead, there was no room for leisurely drinking and hospitality.