Chapter 145
TL/Editor: raei
Schedule: 5/week
Illustrations: None
Join the discord! Here
"Hahaha! Look at this!"
"Now we're rich!"
Ian distributed the amber found in the hidden storehouse to the mercenaries.
'Rich... is that so?'
The mercenaries were delighted as they handled the gem fragments.
But to Ian, it wasn't something to be that excited about.
Amber was certainly a gem, but its value was ambiguous.
It wasn't even cut and polished, just raw stones. They were freshly dug from a river and piled up haphazardly.
Honestly, some looked no better than ordinary rocks.Reêad latest novels at novelhall.com
And besides, the mercenaries mined them, so it's just returning to their own hands, right?
"I'm gonna buy a cow with this!"
"Pigs and chickens too! Hahaha!"
"..."
When medieval people got money, they first tried to buy livestock.
Livestock was like a sure-win stock that would always yield profits if raised properly.
They were all smiles at the thought of buying chickens and pigs and going "To the moon~~".
Well. If the animals don't die, they'll certainly become wealthy, so it's a good choice.
... Though it's uncertain how much money they'll get from selling these raw amber stones.
Ian didn't outright tell the mercenaries, 'You can't get rich with that.' Only cold-blooded bastards born with T genes could do such a thing.
Ian was just a common INFP, as common as stones on the roadside.
"I'm taking this as my share. No objections?"
"Of course not! Hehe..."
Ian took his and his companions' share of the raw amber stones.
He didn't take much, just about half a basket.
Ian hadn't hired porters, so the amount of luggage he could carry was limited.
The most space-consuming item on a journey was, of course, food.
Just packing enough food for three people already creates an annoying pile of luggage.
They were using a donkey borrowed from the monastery as a pack animal, but there wasn't enough room to carry around heavy stones.
But selling this to the mercenaries?
Those guys are clearly dirt-poor mercenaries carrying only weapons like falchions. It's questionable if they could even give proper change.
It's better to decide what to do with it after visiting Baron Vincents' domain.
"Um... Wizard sir."
As Ian was dividing the amber, a sharp-eyed mercenary approached and spoke.
"That cloth-like object... I hadn’t seen it until now..."
"..."
He was referring to the golden tapestry.
The mercenary might have thought he was being quite perceptive...
But in reality, it was an utterly tactless move.
"Ah. You mean this?"
When Ian lowered his voice as if displeased, the 'truly' sharp-eyed mercenaries around became restless.
No! The wizard must have taken it first because he liked it!
Why the f*ck are you pointing that out! You crazy bastard!
Ian is a wizard who can burn people to death with his bare hands.
Yesterday he burned a demon wizard to death, so he might burn an annoying mercenary today!
If Ian had heard this, he would have asked 'Who's this psychopath you're talking about?', but...
How could the mercenaries know Ian's personality?
In the Empire, wizards were known to be eccentric beings.
Ian had indeed incinerated the demon wizard with a spear of flame.
Anyone who saw that and thought 'Wow~ He burned that person so warmly~ How kind~' would have a screw loose in their head.
The mercenaries naturally assumed Ian was nurturing an eccentric monster inside.
So they hurriedly rushed out to do damage control.
"Wow~ It's really magnificent!"
"I don't know what it is, but it suits you perfectly, Wizard sir! Hahaha!"
It goes perfectly with the wizard!
Just take it without hesitation!
Ian became slightly uneasy when the mercenaries suddenly started flattering him.
Don't tell me these guys...
Are they saying I took the good stuff, so I should share some crumbs? Now?
Honestly, they were right.
The raw amber stones were too heavy for their value, but the golden tapestry was light, expensive, and precious. Ian had indeed taken the best item here.
Also, instead of threatening 'Give us money!', the mercenaries approached with a begging attitude like 'Hehe. You got the big piece... how about some scraps for us...'
He could have graciously taken out some change from his pocket and scattered it.
But Ian made an excuse first.
"I took it because it was left by the demon wizard. It seems to be imbued with evil power."
"E-Evil power!"
"Oh my! I'm not going anywhere near that!"
The mercenaries retreated in unison, as if on cue.
Whether it was really an evil object or not, they now had an excuse not to approach it!
"If they protect the weak and fight for justice. Honor will guide a warrior's soul to heaven."
"... But the priests don't say things like that?"
"Our local priest did."
"???"
The mercenary didn't know Belenka was a foreigner.
In reality, there were subtle differences in doctrinal views between the Heaven's Faith of the Empire and that of Baekguk.
In the desolate and impoverished Wintz of Baekguk, they taught that even warriors who commit murder can go to heaven.
Seeing Ian and Belenka's ominous reactions, the mercenaries hurriedly came over and whispered.
"No... We're trying to help Captain Jubal right now!"
"How exactly are you helping him?"
"Haah... Wizard sir. You great ones might not understand, but for bottom-feeders like us, life is war!"
Ian snickered.
Ian is the son of a serf.
He foraged for bugs in the mountains until he was 10 years old. If he'd been unlucky and there had been a famine, he might have had the rare experience of starving to death.
Excited, the mercenary raised his voice in front of Ian.
"To survive, we have to step on those even lower than us! And do you know who's the easiest to crush and kill? Fools, beggars, and jesters!"
"..."
"The weak get trampled! If the captain had met us on the road, do you think he'd be treated like this? No! We would have robbed him!
Because no one protects fools!"
Ian flinched.
He felt a rising heat from behind.
...Kira approached the mercenaries with blazing eyes.
She spoke slowly in a voice that seemed to spit out the words.
"According to you... 'bottom-feeders'... shouldn't the weak protect each other instead?"
"Again with that naive..."
"Tell me. If you met a wandering jester on the road..."
"Ha! We'd kill him right away! And take all his money!"
The mercenary might have thought he was giving the right answer in his own way.
Beggars, fools, and jesters are society's weakest, unprotected by anyone.
Killing the weak and taking their possessions is clearly a profitable act.
However, that answer triggered a dark memory in Kira.
"... Then what if. If I meet scum like you..."
"Wi-Wizard...?"
"It means it's okay if I burn you all to ashes!"
Kira's eyes flashed like burning flames.
At that moment.
An explosive flame erupted from beneath the mercenary's feet!
"Aaaaargh!"
The mercenary let out a terrible scream.
His startled comrades rushed over, but the magically conjured flames wouldn't easily extinguish.
[Yes! Burn! Incinerate them all!]
Ian noticed the Mystery of Fire swirling around Kira.
"Haa... Haa..."
Kira trembled, her fists clenched tight.
Ian dispersed the Mystery of Fire and calmed Kira down.
"Are you okay?"
"Ian..."
Kira pressed her forehead against Ian's chest, catching her ragged breath.
"I... suddenly feel like crying."
"Calm down first. Go over there."
Ian sent Kira away and stepped forward.
The flames had gone out, but the mercenary's legs were scorched bright red.
It would be a severe injury even by modern standards, let alone in medieval times.
It's a critical wound bordering on disability.
"M-My legs...! My legs...!"
"Be grateful you're still breathing."
Ian said coldly.
"That wizard's father, he was a wandering jester who was murdered by bandits."
"...!"
The mercenary was so dumbfounded he lost his words.
How on earth did a jester's daughter... become a wizard!
"Seeing what you guys are like, I can't possibly entrust Jubal to you."
"Wh-What?"
"You've been exploiting Jubal without paying him a penny, right? Gaslighting him that he'd starve to death if he left thegroup."
"Gas... What?"
"It's a thing. You ignorant f*cks."
Ian called Jubal.
"For now, come with me. I'll find you a decent village to live in."
"Yes! Thank you! Master!"
"Drop the 'master' bit."
Though Jubal was snatched away before their eyes, no mercenary dared complain.
This time, it might not be their legs, but their lives at stake.