Chapter 1

Chapter 1
### Chapter 1

“A mercenary who manages to survive is merely third-rate. After all, the high price for their service is paid precisely so they can perish in the place of aristocrats and citizens.”

High-born elites frequently shared this cynical jest when discussing the sellswords in their employ.

Inevitably, whenever such remarks reached the ears of the mercenaries, their tempers flared.

In times of dire need, the nobility acted as though they would bestow estates and noble ranks, yet the moment the conflict ceased, they discarded the soldiers with such insults.

It was only logical that the more experience a mercenary gained, the deeper their cynicism and resentment toward the upper class grew. Having been contracted by lords on numerous occasions meant they had seen more than enough treacherous conduct.

Jake, a captain of a mercenary band, was certainly no different.

‘The justifications were truly never-ending.’

The enemy hadn’t suffered enough deaths; the opposing general remained breathing, so it wasn’t a definitive triumph; it was only a minor victory in a peripheral clash, and the overall course of the war hadn’t shifted.

All manner of imaginative pretexts would occasionally leave even the employer’s own vassals feeling humiliated.

Furthermore, while the excuses were remarkably inventive, the result was always identical: “I cannot provide the compensation we agreed upon.” That detail was shockingly reliable.

However, even Jake, who had endured a lifetime of hollow promises, was encountering this specific brand of idiety for the first time.

“Perish for my sake.”

“….”

Jake stared blankly at the knight standing across from him, momentarily stunned.

Did I actually just hear those words?

If it were any other arrogant noble, perhaps, but this specific man was not known for uttering such garbage.

“My apologies. I’ve been exhausted lately, so my ears must be playing…”

“Your hearing is fine. Perish for my sake.”

Complete lunatic.

Jake fought down the profanity bubbling in his throat and fixed a hard stare on the knight.

Had the man’s mind snapped following the recent string of brutal losses?

Jake had already performed more than enough labor to justify his coin and intended to withdraw his men shortly, yet here the man was, directly ordering him to die.

“Sir, are you aware of what I do for a living?”

“A mercenary.”

“So you haven’t forgotten. For a second, I assumed you had confused me for a sworn knight.”

“I truly wish you were a knight instead.”

If he were, the knight might have made such a demand without feeling the weight of it in his chest.

The knight exhaled heavily, shuttered his eyes for a moment, and then looked back. A sense of weariness and self-contempt, previously hidden, now clouded his gaze.

“I offer my apologies. It seems I was too blunt. My phrasing was prone to being taken the wrong way.”

“Taken the wrong way?”

“In reality, I meant to request that you command a rearguard defense. However, the circumstances are so grim that the truth slipped out poorly.”

In other words, the objective was so suicidal it pricked his conscience, making him accidentally dramatic.

Honestly, the man had a knack for giving a person a heart attack.

“It’s alright. I can understand why you’d be feeling the pressure.”

Jake forced a professional, merchant-like smile, masking his internal irritation.

Regardless of the request, the man was the right hand of his employer. It would be a hassle if showing anger led to complications with the final settlement.

Most importantly, even if it sounded foul, that bluntness was actually a sign of respect for a mercenary. Since the knight had provided fair missions until this point, he would likely keep some shred of honor, no matter how lethal the assignment.

“The objective is straightforward. Tomorrow, the insurgents will commence a final assault. While my master retreats to safety, I require you to hold the line alongside me.”

“…I’m sorry?”

“Maintain the position for as long as you can—at least until I fall. I will settle the rest of your contract with this when you finally pull back.”

The knight reached beneath his heavy cloak and placed an object down with a heavy thud.

It was a crimson jewel as massive as a grown man’s fist. Judging by the depth of its color, it was unmistakably a ‘Prince’s Tear,’ a gemstone pulled only from the deepest mines in the southern reaches of the continent.

A rock of that magnitude could easily fund three years of the mercenary group’s entire payroll.

But Jake didn’t even glance at the treasure; instead, his features twisted in anger.

“Sir, did you lose your mind this morning?”

“I am in full possession of my faculties.”

“Crazy people never claim to be crazy.”

“Mind your tone. Even for a man like you, overstepping will—”

“You’re the one who overstepped! You want to pull us into your tomb and have us rot with you? Do I look like a fool to you?”

It sounded poetic on a map. A grand story of loyal knights staying behind to sacrifice themselves on a failing front so their liege could escape. And in the thick of it, the mercenaries who bled with them are paid off and sent home at the right moment.

A naive recruit who knew nothing of reality might have been deceived.

Unfortunately, Jake was a thoroughly cynical veteran.

“You’re the lead commander. And you’re claiming you’ll only let us go once you’re a corpse? Right before we’re all slaughtered? Lies! You think the enemy is just going to watch us walk away?”

“You are sellswords, not noblemen, so the enemy won’t hunt you with much vigor—”

“To be exact, we’re the sellswords who’ve caused them the most pain! To the enemy, crushing our skulls into dust wouldn’t even begin to satisfy their grudge!”

Mercenaries have no motive to keep swinging swords once the gold stops. Therefore, the moment the employer is killed, the mercenaries naturally scatter, and the winning side usually doesn’t waste energy on a pursuit. Hunting them down only to face a cornered beast would result in pointless casualties.

The issue was that such a scenario only worked when there wasn’t a personal vendetta involved.

“Do you have any clue how much I’ve harassed them? Even the lowly scouts get the shakes just hearing my name mentioned. You honestly believe they’ll just let me pass?”

No matter if a mercenary was fighting for coin, it meant nothing once the enemy was blinded by hate. Furthermore, Jake had once pushed the enemy’s main camp to the edge of absolute destruction.

It was certain they would track him to the borders of the world, mercenary or not. He was already weighing whether they’d deploy a hunting party even if he fled right now, yet he was being ordered to stand in plain view in the center of the slaughter.

“You’re aiming to use us as a blood offering.”

“….”

“You want to force us to stay to buy seconds for your master to run? How noble. It’s so gallant I can feel my spine bending in a bow without even trying!”

At the cutting mockery, the knight bit his lip until it bled. He seemed to possess at least a sliver of shame, as his face burned with it.

But regardless, it was obvious he had no intention of allowing Jake to depart.

“…If you refuse to obey the directive, I will reclaim total command. I am truly sorry, but you must remain with us until the bitter end.”

“And if I say no?”

“I’ll be forced to utilize this.”

Clink.

The knight’s blade shifted slightly from its scabbard. It was a clear threat that he would strike Jake down and seize control of the mercenaries himself if he had to.

Jake snorted at the sheer idiocy of it. His crew wouldn’t follow a stranger, so it was a meaningless threat.

However, the man in front of him had already resolved to accept disgrace. Any explanation would fall on deaf ears, and even if the knight believed him, he would likely forge ahead out of pure desperation.

“You absolute bastard.”

“I am truly sorry.”

“Don’t bother. In fact, I should thank you for clearing my conscience.”

“What?”

“Since you’ve pushed it to this, I’ll just have to take your head. It’s too late to escape anyway, so I might as well do what I can.”

The knight’s face shifted instantly. Where regret had lived, only cold disdain remained.

“I misjudged your character.”

“Oh? And what did you think of me?”

“As a man who fulfilled his obligations despite being a mere mercenary. I believed you were more honorable than most titled knights. But in the end, you are just another sellsword.”

“Look who’s talking. Are you really the one to preach that?”

“No. But my mind is settled now. If we are both garbage, there is no reason for me to stay my hand.”

Jake let out a dry laugh. It seemed the knight assumed Jake was doing this merely to protect his own skin.

Jake curled his lips into a sneer, mocking the knight’s assumption.

“You’re wrong about one thing. I have no expectation of coming back alive.”

“What?”

“Whether I decline your deal or take it, I’m a dead man. The problem is that my boys will be slaughtered too. If that’s the reality, shouldn’t I at least find a way to save them?”

“The enemy’s chase…”

“If I hand them your head along with my own, it’ll settle the score somehow. After all, the one they truly hate isn’t the rank-and-file, but the man in charge.”

The knight’s eyes grew wide as if he hadn’t anticipated those words. His gaze flickered for a second before he finally wore a hollow, empty expression.

“Ha… Haha. You’re telling me you’ll die to protect your men?”

“I’m the one who led them here with tales of a future. I have to own the disaster. Isn’t that just common sense?”

“Common sense… Yes, it is common sense.”

Shring.

The knight’s weapon was drawn completely. He shifted into a fluid stance that seemed to flow like a stream.

A moment later, Jake pulled his own blade, but he felt a sour taste in his throat.

‘No vulnerabilities, damn it. Just how many ranks above me is he?’

He knew a few dirty tactics to close a gap in prowess, but he didn’t think they would work against the warrior before him. He wasn’t exactly a novice himself, but that was only by the standards of a sellsword. Compared to this knight, who made even legendary heroes pause, he was vastly outmatched.

He might even perish here before he could even offer his own life to the enemy.

Well, that wouldn’t be the worst conclusion either. At least his men would abandon the camp the second they realized their captain was dead.

“I wish you had been my master instead.”

Unlike the strained Jake, the knight’s tone was filled with grief. The master who had deserted his loyal followers to run stood in sharp contrast to the man in front of him.

A master of high birth and a mercenary captain of peasant stock.

But setting aside the blood in their hearts, who was truly worthy of a crown?

Choking back the sorrow that threatened to overflow again, the knight spoke.

“I am truly sorry.”

“Eat shit.”

Slash!

Simultaneously with his response, Jake lashed out with his sword with every ounce of his strength.

Then, with a dazzling glimmer, crimson sprayed from his throat.

He hadn’t even perceived when the blade was unsheathed or swung. He only realized he’d been struck by the faint sensation of something alien and the reality that the knight’s sword was already positioned on the far side of him.

He had expected this, but the absolute speed of the ending left him feeling empty.

‘Damn it all.’

Even in his win, the knight stayed composed, as if he hadn’t doubted his victory for a single heartbeat. Seeing that face, lacking even a shred of doubt, Jake couldn’t help but grin sadly.

‘Natural talent is a curse…’

With that final thought, Jake’s world was swallowed by the dark.

“…Master! Young Master!”

Jake suddenly snapped awake, feeling his head spin violently. Someone was yelling into his ear and jolting his frame.

‘…What? Am I still breathing?’

That was a physical impossibility. He could still clearly feel the touch of the metal tearing through his throat. Even if a holy figure from myth performed a wonder, he shouldn’t have pulled through.

Then, was this all a nightmare?

“Young Master! Oh, Young Master!”

But the feelings were too tangible for a dream. The noise echoing in his ears made his skull throb, and every time his body was shoved, he felt like he was going to lose his stomach.

He wanted to tell them to quit it, but before he could speak, the person lifted their hand.

“Please open your eyes! If you pass like this, I’m finished too!”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

You absolute lunatic, quit hitting me!

The hand was small, but it held enough force to make his consciousness rattle with every blow to his face. When both his cheeks were pulsing red, Jake couldn’t endure it any longer and yelled.

“Stop… I said quit it…!”

“Y-Young Master! You’re awake!?”

Jake stared at the person before him through a hazy fog. Looking closer, it was a youth with a deep voice and a slight build.

Just as Jake was about to scream about the stinging agony, the boy started weeping and cried out.

“You’re unharmed, Young Master! I was sure you were dead!”

What? Young Master?

Jake blinked at the bizarre form of address.

‘Young Master’ was a phrase he had never heard used for him in his entire life. At best, a mercenary was regarded like a half-soldier. Yet here he was, being addressed as if he were the heir of some wealthy estate.

“No, after slapping the life out of me, what kind of crap are you—!”

Jake’s entire body went rigid as he touched his throbbing cheeks. The hand reaching for his face was incredibly soft and smooth.

Until just minutes ago, his palms had been layered in rough calluses. His real hands could never have felt like this.

Confused by what was happening, Jake inspected his own hands.

“…What in the world is this?”