Chapter 46

Chapter 46

The southerners were the first barbarians to be assimilated into the Empire. The Empire already had established a trade relationship with the southern kingdoms, and their sun-worshipping beliefs made them more accepting of Solarism. In the end, most of the southern barbarians surrendered within a year of the onset of the war.

“Looks like the young master knows how to buy whores, too!” The mercenaries said as they watched Pahell bring Zuniba into the inn.

“I didn’t bring her as a prostitute; she’s here to heal Urich,” Pahell retorted with a frown.

“Well, nothing’s off the table as long as you pay me appropriately,” Zuniba said after him. The mercenaries whistled and murmured obscenities.

“That’s enough! I’ve only brought you here for medical reasons, and those reasons only. Forget about anything else,” Pahell shouted.

Creak.

Pahell and Zuniba entered the room where Urich was lying.

“Is he a northerner?”

“I’m not sure. Whether he’s a northerner or southerner, he’s a barbarian for sure.”

Pahell sat behind Urich with his money pouch clinking.

“His body seems quite hot. He’s suffering with a fever,” Zuniba said as she looked at Urich’s bright red face.

“I didn’t bring you here so you could tell me the obvious. If you heal that man, Urich, I will pay you a million cils. Surely, that’s not a small sum,” Pahell said to the prostitute. UppTodated from nô/v/e/lb(i)n.c(o)/m

“I’ll take a hundred gold coins, sir,” Zuniba said with a faint smile. A hundred gold coins were worth ten million cils.

“If that’s what you want, you’ll get it.”

Pahell glared his blue eyes and plunged his sword into the floor.

“...but if you wish to be paid ten million cils, you must put your life on the line. If you fail to heal the man, I will take your head,” Pahell said as he clenched his teeth.

‘I’m not expecting much. She could be a random prostitute who just came here for the money.’

He thought that this condition would scare off the woman if she were blabbering lies just for money.

“Ten million cils, sir. I swear to the Sun God Lou.”

Zuniba walked up to Pahell. She then put his hand down his shirt and pulled out the sun pendant.

“Do not touch me! If you heal Urich, I will pay you with a hundred gold coins. I swear in Lou’s name.”

“Lou has heard us.”

Zuniba gently bowed and sat next to Urich.

‘He has a lot of terrible scars. He must be a warrior who routinely walked the thin line between life and death.’

Zuniba felt nostalgic as she looked at the ill warrior’s body. It was a body that she wanted to find herself snuggled with.

Swish.

Zuniba reached out to put her hand on Urich’s forehead.

“Ah!”

Urich suddenly opened his eyes and snatched her hand. His eyes alternated between the barbarian woman and Pahell.

“What, Pahell? Who’s this woman? I know I have a reputation, but it’s kind of hard for me to sleep with a woman right now. I appreciate the gesture but... ugh, fuck, not again, yuck.” Urich dropped his head and vomited for a while. There was nothing left in his stomach to throw up, so only white fluid dripped out of his mouth.

“She’s not a prostitute. I brought her to heal you.”

Pahell closed his eyes to avoid looking at Urich vomiting. He didn’t have a strong stomach, so even the sound of him gagging was making him feel nauseous.

“Ugh, spit. This girl? Is she a shaman?” Urich asked as he barely sat up.

“How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I’m going to die. It’s like I drank right up to the point of throwing it all up, then somebody opened my head and poured even more drinks down.”

“Judging by how you’re still talking, it doesn’t seem like the fever’s poison has affected your head yet.”

Zuniba caressed Urich’s forehead.

‘The cold hand feels nice.’

Her cold hand momentarily absorbed his fever.

“I’ve seen countless hardy warriors suffering and dying from diseases.”

“Die? Who’s going to die? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“That’s what they all say. ‘There’s no way I die, do you think I’m going to die like this?’ However, death is a universal thing. It treats everyone equally. We all have to leave this physical body of ours, and we never know when that will be,” Zuniba said calmly.

“I didn’t bring you here to give us a sermon, did I, Zuniba?”

Urich was bold. He knew how to see the big picture. He never once penalized people for standing with Donovan, so any mercenary who knew how to do the math tended to crawl under Donovan’s arms.

‘That’s how Urich led the mercenary squad, but...’

Urich was a natural-born warlord. Other warriors couldn’t help themselves but follow him. He was someone who naturally stood above the others without even trying. Because of that, Urich never needed to be wary of others.

‘But a regular guy like me has to stay sharp and keep my head above water to keep my place.’

The mercenaries stretched his hand out to shove Bachman.

“If you want an apology, come get it with your sword. May Lou be the judge of who’s right and wrong.”

The mercenaries around them were stirred. It was a clear challenge to duel.

‘Hmph, you’ve been following Urich around for the longest time. I’ll put you in your place.’

Bachman’s fighting skills were barely average within the mercenary squad. His strength was his sociability and the ability to quickly read the room.

“You think I’m an easy opponent, huh? I’m going to make you regret that.”

Bachman clenched his teeth. He was a man. If he backed down in a situation like this, he would become the butt of jokes for the rest of his life.

‘Shit, someone stop this!’

He screamed inside his head. Usually, Urich was the one to put an end to small disputes like this. He’d grab each man and say something along the lines of ‘How about you both come at me? I’ll split both of your heads equally. You may have different birthdates, but you’ll die on the same day!’

“Stop that.”

Sven strode over and grabbed Bachman and the mercenary by the arms.

Creak!

His grip was strong—not as strong as Urich’s, but still an immense force. It was the strength of a barbarian who had been wielding a double-handed axe all his life.

“Ugh!”

“Argh!”

The two men broke down in a moan.

“Now, shake hands like the good pals you are, before I break your wrists,” Sven said as he forced the hands of the two men together.

“Y-you got lucky this time, Bachman.”

“Me? You’re the lucky one.”

Thanks to Sven’s intervention, there was no duel. When Sven had finished, he talked to himself as if he wanted the mercenaries to hear his words.

“Tearing each other apart to climb the ranks when the leader is down is something that only animals do.”

Sven kicked his tongue. He was a solemn man. He fought without complaint as a gladiator slave out of loyalty to Horus, who had saved his life and had spent his entire earnings to free his brothers. There was no one with a character like his in the mercenary squad.

“Sven, can we talk for a second?” Bachman said as he rubbed his wrist. Sven nodded in response.

“Look at the state of our squad as soon as Urich’s slightly out of the picture. How pathetic,” Sven said as he glanced at the mercenaries outside his room.

“Sven, if Urich doesn’t make it, I want you to be our next leader. I will back you up,” Bachman got to his point immediately. Sven brushed his beard and showed a faint grin.

“That is poor, Bachman. You’re not fit to be a warrior. You’d be perfect as a fisherman or a local guard.”

“You might be right, but unfortunately, I’m a mercenary, at least for now. I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to make some good money.”

Bachman was a secular, petit bourgeois man. He wasn’t a hero.

‘But most people are no different from Bachman.’

Sven brushed his beard, then answered.

“My answer is no. If Urich can no longer serve as our leader, I am going to leave the squad and head to the north.”

“What about our job?”

“I never swore an oath. Your Sun God Lou isn’t our god. My other northern brothers might stay with the squad, but I am going to return to the northern holy land.”

Sven’s thoughts were firm, and Bachman saw no point in saying more.

“Alright. I guess my fate depends on whether Urich gets up.”

Bachman and Sven’s conversation came to an end. As they walked out of the room, they could sense the glares of the other mercenaries.

‘Donovan.’

Donovan was busy playing dice with the men in his group. He looked at Bachman and bared his yellow teeth.

‘Dammit, that bastard probably knows that Sven would never go for the leader position. He’s full of confidence right now.’

Donovan was a patient man. He had been waiting patiently under Urich, and now he was getting his chance.

“I’m having good luck with the dice today,” Donovan said.