Translator: Nox

Ch#59

But contrary to their worries, the Frost Union's actions were unexpected.

‘Who did the Union hand the commission start rights to?’

‘To a small mercenary group recommended by the Lindelpel lord, one that knows the Lindelpel terrain well.’

‘No way. Is that for real?’

The Frost Union began distributing national commission start rights in a very fair and legitimate manner.

It shattered everyone's expectations of corruption and favoritism.

‘Didn't Trebaga request start rights too? I thought for sure the Union would hand it to them...!’

‘I heard the Union agonized over it. If Trebaga moved, they could siege the magic stone without much risk.’

‘Then why? Why give it to some unheard-of small mercenary group instead of Trebaga?’

‘I told you. That group's leader is a Lindelpel native. They know the terrain so well they can adapt flexibly even in chaotic battles.’

‘...I can't believe it.’

‘Right? I can't believe it either.’

The Frost Union treated all mercenary groups very fairly.

It didn't favor top groups or discriminate against the weak.

Thanks to that, the number of groups joining the Union naturally trended upward.

‘It's been quiet the last few years, so I forgot for a moment.’

In truth, Basto had no reason to care about the Frost Union after leaving Death Hound.

Why covet national commission start rights when he sieged magic stones solo?

“...But who would've thought that Union would step up to rescue us.”

Even though Agavert wasn't even affiliated.

And what was even more astonishing was something else.

The mobilization order had gone to the rank 1, 2, and 3 groups, their names prominently displayed on the rankings.

Grim Reaper and Silvar's Scream were one thing, but Trebaga was truly unexpected.

As the immovable rank 1, they were heavyweights who commanded tens of thousands of gold per commission.

“I don't think it's entirely for us, though.”

Veil interjected then.

He was fiddling with the communication orb in his hand, lost in thought.

“The factory chief got trapped in the subspace too.”

Basto blanked for a moment before regaining his composure.

‘Now that I think about it.’

His head had been so full of worry for Tie that he'd completely forgotten about Berugon.

Berugon was the empire's greatest living blacksmith.

Even the emperor made the journey to procure weapons from him.

“That guy's the one who talked back to the emperor and lived. A day or two of house arrest?”

Basto knew of the incident where Berugon had raged at the emperor for damaging the weapon he'd made.

‘He even spouted off in front of nobles and holy knights, and the rumor spread across the empire.’

That the august emperor had been disrespected by a mere blacksmith.

If it had been anyone else, they'd have been beheaded immediately, their head hung in the imperial palace.

But the emperor spared Berugon.

No matter the talk of execution, he ultimately let him keep forging weapons.

And behind that was the tight bond between the Imperial Family and the Church.

“If Berugon goes down, holy knight weapon supply gets tricky right away. They're already a group heavily reliant on weapons—if they can't siege because of shortages, the emperor loses face immediately.”

Veil, having said that, gave Enzo a meaningful look as well.

“That was a good idea, by the way. Suggesting we ask the Union for help. I was too scared to think straight.”

An awkward expression crossed Enzo's face.

“No, it was just what any squad member should do.”

He couldn't smile easily, worried about Astie trapped in the subspace.

The anxious Basto clenched his fist and peered out the window.

Time dragging until support arrived felt agonizing.

‘Half a day after getting trapped in the subspace... we have to assume a high chance of death.’

Half of Ollek's "half day" had already passed.

As his face drained of color once more and he silently clutched his forehead,

“Hey!”

The workshop door burst open as a blacksmith rushed in with an urgent face.

“A formation has activated in front of the Armory!”

"A formation has activated" meant one of the mobilized mercenary groups had just arrived in the Weapon District.

Basto shot to his feet and turned to his squad without breathing.

“Let's go.”

Then they all followed him out of the workshop.

* * *

“Jeez, such a hassle.”

Mercenary ranking 2.

Grim Reaper's leader, Reaper Aldobrat, muttered as he slipped on his gauntlet with one hand.

Lifting his head revealed the desolate Weapon District.

Dry leaves tumbling over parched earth, gray buildings devoid of any charm.

“That's why I hate coming here. It's all so damn grim.”

“Leader. Still, you can't ignore Popullosa products. You insist on armor forged only here.”

As vice-leader Gavern spoke, black smoke rose from one building's chimney.

Reaper grumbled and pulled his gaiter up over his nose.

“Pfft. Berugon's been getting on my nerves more lately, so I was thinking of switching suppliers.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. But who knew I'd get mobilized for something like rescuing that Berugon guy. If it wasn't a national commission, I would've...”

Trailing off, Reaper clicked his tongue and turned.

Not far off, the grand Armory entered his view.

He muttered in a peculiar tone.

“Anyway, Krazar's subspace opened up in there, right?”

No mercenary was ignorant of the great beast Krazar.

Even if only its core remained now.

“Can a magic beast core just revive on its own like that? It was an armament originally. That old coot Berugon—I begged him dozens of times to sell it, but he wouldn't budge.”

Gavern scratched his head.

“Well... from what the Union relayed, it's not a full revival.”

“Then?”

“Something like... the residual magic in the core might have created the subspace?”

“That's revival. Doesn't matter anyway. Just smash it and done.”

Reaper thumped his chest, the iron armor and gauntlet clanging.

Gavern nodded reluctantly.

“Sure, whatever. But the subspace is completely invisible from outside. We probably need Tesetan Veronío first.”

“Why that bastard again!”

“Annoying as he is, don't we need his ‘those eyes’ to reveal the subspace's concealment?”

Ah-

Reaper groaned shortly and nodded.

If that was the case, Tesetan's help would indeed be necessary.

But then.

“Oh dear, what a mess. They say Trebaga might not even come.”

A soft voice came from behind.

Turning, a silver-haired woman in a white blouse and beige apron was eyeing Reaper and Gavern.

Reaper's eyes narrowed instantly.

“...Elanes?”

Ranking 3.

It was Elanes, leader of ‘Silvar's Scream.’

She waved the wooden ladle in her hand and smiled.

“It's been ages, Reaper. Too long.”

Reaper's expression twisted.

He scanned Elanes with a displeased look.

“What's with that getup? Did you just come from the kitchen or something?”

Elanes waved the wooden ladle around.

“Oh, how'd you know? I did just come from the kitchen.”

“You? The kitchen?”

“Well, I felt bad eating only what my husband cooks every day, so I tried making something. Didn't expect the mobilization order to drop suddenly.”

Reaper shook his head.

Then he eyed her suspiciously.

“But what was that just now?”

“What?”

“That bit about Tesetan Veronío maybe not coming.”

Elanes let out an "ahh-" and smiled.

“That, you see.”