Chapter 28 : Days in the Free City of Loren (4)

Chapter 28: Days in the Free City of Loren (4)

“Hmmhmm.”

In the room they had just left, Branch Manager Marhen swished her tail and turned over the words from a moment ago.

“Find a knight-born teacher who can teach him swordsmanship huh...”

Who would have thought to hear that from a mercenary who usually struggled just to survive the day.

A knight’s swordsmanship was worth using only after long practice from childhood.

Yet he wanted a knightly instructor to teach him. In the long term it might be exactly what he needed, but until now not a single mercenary had made such a request.

He was a fellow who strayed far, very far, from expectations.

“Truly fascinating.”

Branch Manager Marhen’s feline eyes glinted as she licked her lips with her tongue, like a predator that had spotted a delicious prey.

“Did he really catch your eye that much?”

“Yes. He has plenty of nerve, he knows how to use his head… and above all he’s quite good-looking, isn’t he? Arlen? You brought him yourself, so you must’ve seen him too.”

“Well, if you think so, then it must be so. What would I know.”

Arlen’s bowed face had flushed slightly. She too had taken a liking to him, it seemed.

“Don’t pretend otherwise. They say a demure cat climbs up first… You’re not going to suddenly pounce and swallow him whole, are you?”

“Honestly. Manager! Don’t say things like that. If a woman of marriageable age talks that way, people will gossip.”

“That’s why I only say it in front of you, Arlen. If the rumor spreads, it’s your fault, okay?”

Watching the flustered Arlen, Branch Manager Marhen wore a mischievous look.

Arlen, who had been with her since childhood, was Marhen’s closest aide and like a sister.

“Anyway, jokes aside… Where’s the Elder now.”

The question lacked context, but Arlen understood at once.

“Do you mean to attach the Elder to him as a sword instructor?”

“Why? Do you think it wouldn’t suit him?”

Arlen started in surprise, her ears pricking straight up.

“No, no! I’m not doubting the Elder’s skill. It’s just that…”

“Yes. The Elder is a little eccentric.”

One day a wandering old guest came to the trading company.

They knew nothing of his past, but his skill was tremendous. He could defeat knights who had won tournaments many times with ease.

He was as stubborn as his skill was great, very eccentric, and fond of roaming alone.

No wonder Arlen reacted that way.

“That young mercenary asked me for the best teacher I could find. The best swordsman I know is the Elder, so I can only introduce him.”

“Even so…”

“Oh my. Our kind Arlen. You don’t need to worry about that too. It’s something the mercenary must accept and handle.”

Marhen patted Arlen’s fluffy hair.

“So tell the Elder this. I want to arrange a meeting. For the sake of my face, he’ll meet him at least once, hopefully.”

As always, either the Elder would curse them out and throw them out, or he would take a liking to him and accept him as a disciple.

After that, it would be entirely up to the young mercenary.

And somehow, Marhen felt that…

“That man will probably pull it off, Arlen. So send someone to make contact.”

“Understood, Manager.”

* * *

After the splendid visit to the trading company, Shatien became truly, unbelievably busy.

Mordo formally appointed him as a Centurion, so he had to assemble a full company in earnest.

Thanks to the favorable help of Jacri the Centurion, he received personnel and material support including Miles, but it was nowhere near enough.

The Black Raven Mercenary Company’s numbers had dropped greatly due to the recent battles.

In such a state, how much could internal reassignment really do?

“Arghhhh-!”

So Shatien spent today, too, managing recruitment and organization together with the ever-bellowing Miles.

“Is this job ever going to end?”

“The people are all selected, and we only need to proceed with more training. Please wait a bit. Once I finish the paperwork and report to Captain Mordo, we’re done.”

“Damn it! I’d rather grab an axe and smash skulls than do this. What is this, a monastery’s baldheads’ work? Me, holding paperwork. Oh my life…”

Miles heaved deep sighs, saying things that would bring trouble if priests heard them.

He should’ve feigned illiteracy.

He had stuck his neck out and ended up stuck to the end, suffering for it.

Seeing Miles’s grumbling, Shatien realized it was time to offer a carrot.

“When this is over, I’ll personally take you somewhere very nice.”

“What? Somewhere nice? Wait, you mean there!”

“Yes, there. The trading company’s gambling hall you’ve been singing about.”

The trading company’s gambling hall was one of the entertainment venues in the East Ward.

It was an enormous pleasure district that not only offered gambling but also various spectacles and performances, with unlimited delicious food and drink.

“Ooooh! Then of course I’ll help. Just you wait! Rookie! I mean, Centurion! I’ll finish this very quickly.”

Miles shouted in high spirits.

Since the venue was managed by the trading company, not just anyone could enter, but fortunately Shatien had been granted access to the East Ward by the company.

Together they could enter anytime.

Perhaps because of that, Miles worked faster than ever before, so fast that even Shatien clicked his tongue.

‘You know, you can try to do that normally.’

He must’ve been slacking out of laziness… Shatien thought he’d have to give him a hard time later.

As they worked on for a while,

“By the way, Rookie.”

Now that he had a breather, Miles tossed a question.

“How did you even know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, uh… how did you tell the dregs? Do they have it written on their foreheads or something, saying I’m dead weight? Seriously, you are amazing. You know that fellow you recently sent away? Pedro.”

“Ahh, yes. That slick-looking fellow.”

“Yes, him. I hear he joined another mercenary band, caused trouble, and got hauled off by the city guard.”

Judging by the way he shook his head, that Pedro had committed quite a serious crime.

“That’s not the important part right now. Finishing this job is.”

“Aw, come on, tell me. I’m curious. It’s already more than ten, right? Really.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Work faster, Miles. If this drags on, we can’t go to the gambling hall.”

“Eek!”

At that, Miles ducked his head.

His consistency made Shatien click his tongue again. In truth, Shatien was just as curious.

‘Is this mysterious power not limited to battle?’

During recruitment, that mysterious sense had suddenly activated. It gave off an ominous aura as if to say this person is no good.

Shatien had simply followed that feeling and filtered people out, and in the end it had been an excellent choice.

That was good and all, but he couldn’t remain complacent.

‘The backlash is too severe.’

It was a power he couldn’t control, yet the strain on his body was enormous.

It manifested differently from battle.

As soon as it activated, the mental fatigue spiked wildly.

The first time it did, he found it difficult to focus properly for days, as if something were gnawing away at his mental strength.

‘At this rate it won’t do. I must find a method.’

If the ability kept triggering on its own, his end would be ruin.

He needed a solution soon.

Just as he had settled these thoughts,

“Ahahaha!! Done. All done! Rookie, it’s all done! You really will take me, right? To the gambling hall. Right?”

By good timing, Miles had also finished.

‘Right. Set aside the complicated thoughts for now. Resting a little wouldn’t be bad.’

* * *

The trading company’s gambling hall, located in the very heart of the Free City of Loren, had originally been the manor of the noble who ruled Loren before the Free City was founded.

Its exterior was grand and beautiful, preserving the aesthetics handed down from the days of the ancient empire.

Scenting profit, the trading company had remade it into a luxurious gambling hall and high-end tavern. Truly they had a knack.

“Whoa...”

“This is… a gambling hall?”

“Are we even allowed to be in a place like this?”

The men who had come with Shatien gaped as they looked around. It was surprising enough that there was a dedicated space for gambling rather than the worn tables of a shabby tavern, but the interior was so lavish that an ordinary commoner would rarely experience it.

Neatly dressed attendants and beautiful cat-women swished their tails as they moved about.

Most of them had been country bumpkins or lower-class townsfolk, so there was good reason for their round eyes.

“You lot! Don’t gape like yokels. Close your mouths. You’ll swallow flies.”

“Um, wasn’t Miles from the countryside too?”

“A-Ahem. That’s just my birthplace. I’ve traveled to many big cities. I’m not on the same level as these greenhorns. Not the same level.”

“Yes, yes. I’m sure.”

What a braggart he is.

Shatien smirked and addressed the men who looked at him with admiring eyes.

“This space is specially permitted by the branch manager… Don’t cause trouble. Understood?”

“Got it!”

“Good. Then go enjoy yourselves. For today I’ll even allow you to drink.”

“Ohhh-! Thank you, Centurion.”

No sooner had he spoken than the men broke into groups and scattered. They hadn’t been together long, but some had already grown close.

Shatien smiled and dropped into a seat at random.

-Poof.

A soft cushion embraced his hips. As befitted a high-class gambling hall, the padding wasn’t straw but seemed to be filled with feathers.

‘Hm, nice.’

Thinking that, he lifted the cup the attendant handed him.

What a luxury after so long.

Even back before his return, when he had led a third-rate mercenary band, he had rarely enjoyed such comfort.

Especially now…

“Nyahaha. I’ve heard much about you, Sir Shatien.”

The gentle touch of the cat-woman assigned to him.

“They told me to take very good care of you. Please relax and close your eyes. Yes, yes, just like that.”

That soft, velvety touch, and the occasionally tickling tail at the tip of his nose.

Feeling the cat-woman’s hands, Shatien let his tension go and leaned back in the chair.

He wished this peace would last without breaking.

Of course, such wishes are rarely granted.

Crash-!

The god of fortune is said to be impish.

No sooner had he hoped than that hope was shattered.

“You old codger!”

“Aren’t you cheating? How can you keep getting those hands!”

“Hey, hey! Old man! Are you trying to fool me, Miles, a country bumpkin from the sticks? You picked the wrong guy to mess with.”

“…”

Damn it all.

Shatien’s head began to ache already.

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