Chapter 100

Chapter 100
## Northern Mountains (1)

Hubert’s Trading Company, which had its roots planted in Tarak within the Tulk Kingdom, was enjoying a period of rapid expansion.

A massive driver behind this initial prosperity was their ability to keep outside interference to an absolute minimum. They had successfully leveraged Harley’s rising prominence across Tarak’s mercenary circles, backed by the formidable weight of the Church supporting them from the shadows.

‘However, once our operations hit a certain scale, that protective shield began to lose its edge.’

As the enterprise expanded, covert disruptions from rival factions steadily multiplied. While no adversary dared to sabotage them in broad daylight just yet, the cloaked intimidation tactics had escalated to a degree that could no longer be dismissed.

‘Still, we have formulated solid contingencies, so the tides will shift back in our favor.’

Following their recent alliance with the Brokoslack Clan based in Talia, a substantial contingent of vampires had made their way into Tarak. Naturally, unlike their stronghold in Talia where the clan reigned supreme, these operatives had to tread carefully and stick strictly to the dark here. Fortunately, these augmented vampires possessed the skills to blend flawlessly into local society under the company’s covert guidance.

‘Furthermore, the specific operatives sent to Tarak this time belong to a lineage whose “Refined Blood Essence” was deliberately evolved to prioritize absolute concealment.’

He had intentionally steered their evolutionary path toward mastering the art of masking their presence, effectively rendering them a specialized division for stealth infiltration and black ops.

Yet, just as everything seemed to be running like clockwork, an abrupt upheaval struck Tarak.

And it was massive.

‘…I anticipated impending turbulence, which is why I stockpiled provisions, fuel, armaments, and vital resources ahead of time. But the sheer magnitude of this eclipses my forecasts.’

Hubert pinched the bridge of his nose, his gaze locked onto the urgent intelligence reports spread across his desk.

To a merchant, information was the ultimate currency. Because he had poured immense resources into constructing a rapid-response spy network, he was able to intercept this critical data ahead of the curve…

“Though at this scale, the secret is likely already out.”

If a mere merchant like himself had pieced it together, the major power players had undoubtedly initiated their own protocols by now.

And precisely as Hubert deduced, the gears were turning in real-time.

“Pick up the pace!”

“Re-verify the inventory! Ensure no crate is left behind!”

Clang, clang!

Thud, thud—!

The standing military of Aonia County, the province encompassing Tarak, began mobilizing toward the north in an atmosphere thick with unprecedented urgency. Simultaneously, garrisons from neighboring municipalities and the central ducal fortress were redirecting their forces at high speed toward the Iron Fortress, the outermost defensive bastion bordering the northern frontier.

Given the sheer volume of troops on the move, the civilian population could not remain oblivious for long. Speculation and rumors caught fire, tearing through crowded hubs like taverns and mercenary guilds.

“Hey, have you caught wind of the latest? They’re initiating a massive auxiliary draft up at the Iron Fortress. The regular vanguard has already marched out.”

“Yeah, word travels fast. Rumor has it the beasts dwelling in the northern mountains are showing early signs of a massive southward migration.”

“Between the recent reports of the restless dead and now this, the whole region feels like a powder keg. I don’t like where this is heading.”

“Oh, quit being a doomsayer. It’s probably just a coincidence. It’s not exactly unheard of for the creatures in the northern mountains to get riled up every few seasons.”

Because the authorities withheld the full scope of the crisis to avert a public panic, the vast majority of citizens—ignorant of the abyss—assumed this military deployment was merely a routine precaution.

Naturally, there were seasoned veterans who, having pieced together disparate fragments of intelligence, recognized that this anomaly was far from ordinary.

“I don’t know… the chatter I picked up from the Bizarre Party has been weighing heavily on my mind.”

“What do you mean? Did they uncover something specific?”

“I crossed paths with them right after they retreated from the high peaks last week. They allegedly ran into some kind of aberration, and a good chunk of their vanguard got absolutely mauled.”

“An aberration? That’s just an occupational hazard when you hunt wild beasts, isn’t it?”

“No, they insisted this thing wasn’t standard. It lunged at them with the frantic, unhinged ferocity of a rabid hound…”

Even these perceptive individuals lacked the comprehensive picture. They comforted themselves with the belief that with the regular army taking the field, any impending threat would be swiftly contained.

Lured by the exorbitant bounties offered by the local lordship, independent sellswords began making their way toward the northern Iron Fortress one after another.

“Hey, Harley! Have you seen the boards? What’s your move? Our crew is leaning toward signing up.”

The sentiment was shared by the trio of southern warriors currently keeping company with Harley.

As Hubert’s Trading Company expanded its ranks and secured top-tier talent, the burden on Harley’s immediate circle had lessened, granting them newfound liberty. Though they had spent the last few months performing mundane escort duties out of sheer camaraderie for their companion, their true passions lay in the high-stakes thrill of tracking dangerous quarry.

“Hmm, the northern mountains…”

Harley sat amidst the cacophony of the crowded tavern, idly swirling the contents of his chalice as he weighed his options.

He had yet to personally encounter a creature corrupted by ‘madness.’ The opening of the abyss had coincided precisely with his return journey to Tarak after concluding a hunting expedition near the Iron Fortress. Because a substantial delay usually occurred before the corrupted wildlife filtered down from the peaks, his lack of firsthand encounters was mathematically sound.

Yet, analyzing the intelligence provided by Hubert alongside the data Heinz the Second had extracted via the clan’s network…

This was a development that commanded serious attention.

‘So that explains why the Talia Kingdom is simultaneously massing its battalions along the western monster forest.’

Because Hans, Heinz the Second, and Harley himself possessed the strength to traverse that wilderness with impunity, it was easy to forget that the monster forest was inherently a death trap for ordinary mortals. If beasts supercharged by madness—boasting heightened bloodlust and abnormal regenerative traits—began breaching those borders, the kingdom would suffer catastrophic losses.

‘Which is precisely why they deployed the clan’s frontline heavy-hitters, including High Vampires like Freesia and Obor.’

Operating independently from the regular Talia Kingdom infantry, their mission was to infiltrate the canopy and execute asymmetric warfare to cull the most lethal threats before they could aggregate.

‘Yet, the northern mountains represent a threat level far exceeding the monster forest.’

The colossal northern mountain range effectively served as the spine of the continent’s upper half. While the segment bordering the Tulk Kingdom was merely a fraction of the whole, it remained a perilous zone where the native wildlife multiplied faster than the mercenary guilds could cull them.

‘The crown must be fully aware of the impending fallout, given the streams of data they’ve been receiving.’

While Aonia County’s local forces had already spearheaded the vanguard, auxiliary divisions from neighboring fiefdoms would soon converge on the front. This conflict would not be resolved in a single skirmish.

‘We’ve officially moved past the point where this can be quietly managed by the bureaucratic elite. This impending clash will inevitably serve as the flashpoint that exposes the truth to the masses.’

The reality of the Immortal King’s revival and the fracturing of the abyss would become public knowledge.

The revelation would undoubtedly trigger widespread panic and destabilize various domains, but it was an unavoidable milestone.

Furthermore…

Watching the terrifying legend of the Immortal King propagate was an outcome that aligned perfectly with his broader objectives.

‘That was his ultimate design from the very inception.’

However, Harley’s immediate focus required addressing a more localized dilemma. How best to navigate the opening moves of this theater…

He pondered the variable outcomes for a brief interval before his eyes snapped wide. Standing abruptly, he pushed back his chair.

“Count me in! There’s no way I’m sitting this one out! Hahaha!”

“Ha! That’s the Harley we know!”

“It’s about damn time we found a proper venue to cut loose!”

In truth, deep deliberation was an unnecessary exercise. Harley’s philosophy had always been straightforward: when plagued by uncertainty, launch a frontal assault!

Besides, should the Iron Fortress collapse, the commercial infrastructure Hubert had meticulously established across Talia would crumble along with it. It was far more logical to embed himself at the center of the storm and shape the trajectory of the battle firsthand.

‘If the line breaks entirely, I can always execute a strategic withdrawal.’

Given the borderline anomalous resilience his physiology now possessed, he highly doubted he would ever encounter a scenario requiring flight.

With an aura of absolute self-assurance, he exited the tavern and stepped onto the bustling thoroughfare. Having evolved into a living legend within Tarak, his imposing figure was instantly recognized by the populace, eliciting their usual guarded reactions. Citizens instinctively avoided making direct eye contact, quietly shifting to the edges of the cobblestone path to grant him wide berth.

‘Well, it’s a natural consequence.’

Harley glanced momentarily down at his own frame.

His bare, hyper-muscular torso, the macabre beast-skull helm, and the primitive tooth embellishments remained unchanged, save for one stark divergence from his earlier days—.

The intricate array of totemic markings etched permanently across his skin.

A majestic, swirling brand of fire originated above his heart, branching upward across his chest and tracing his jawline. A jagged motif of tempests and crackling electricity dominated his brow, bisecting his right eye before settling along his cheek. His right arm was wrapped in the likeness of a predatory beast, balanced by the icon of mirrored battle-axes spanning his left forearm.

Examined in isolation, each tattoo was a masterpiece of abstract artistry, elegant expressions of elemental forces. Yet, when superimposed onto Harley’s inherently terrifying physique, they merely amplified his monstrous aura.

His historical track record did little to soften his public image. While he refrained from victimizing the defenseless, he systematically obliterated anyone foolish enough to test his mettle.

‘It was an administrative necessity; letting things slide would have invited endless complications.’

Such was the tax of notoriety. In the unforgiving ecosystem of the mercenary underworld, a reputation for violence was synonymous with survival. Consequently, traveling blades arriving in Tarak from distant regions invariably sought to measure themselves against his myth.

He had endured a ceaseless barrage of verbal barbs, formal duels, and outright ambushes from challengers who ignored the warning signs of his physical stature.

Harley’s countermeasure had been absolute.

He didn’t just defeat his detractors; he shattered them so thoroughly that anyone witnessing the aftermath from the sidelines would lose the nerve to ever bare their teeth in his presence. Through this calculated brutality, Harley had secured a status in Tarak as an apex entity—universally recognized, yet entirely unapproachable.

Clank— Clank—

Pushing past the heavy doors of the mercenary guild alongside his three southern companions, he was met with a familiar tableau. The interior maintained its clean, professional aesthetic, punctuated by clusters of sellswords engaged in animated discussions.

The singular focal point of every conversation was the northern mountains. The unprecedented scale of the military enlistment bonus had captured everyone’s undivided attention.

‘A few veterans are clearly sweating the details, but the general consensus leans toward optimism. I suppose the reality of the threat hasn’t truly sunk in yet.’

While a handful of perceptive individuals were quietly packing their belongings to relocate toward Tarak’s southern boundaries, a far larger contingency expressed an eager willingness to deploy, blinded by the massive bounties guaranteed by the ruling lordship.

“Hey, Harley. Our number’s up.”

Following a brief delay, their party was called to the reception desk. As his companions completed their individual registration protocols for the mountain campaign, the young clerk managing the desk looked up, meeting Harley’s gaze with evident trepidation.

“Um… Master Harley?” the clerk stammered, his voice laced with caution. “We actually have a restricted commission explicitly designated for you today. We intended to dispatch a runner to your quarters shortly, but since you’ve come in person…”

“Hmm? A restricted commission?”

Throughout his tenure as a sellsword, Harley had picked up his fair share of exclusive contracts. These direct-hire arrangements, where a patron specifically selected a practitioner to execute a task, commanded premium compensation far above standard guild listings. The guild itself merely facilitated the introduction, leaving the operational parameters to be negotiated privately between the employer and the contractor.

Consequently, it was a framework reserved for highly confidential or exceptionally hazardous assignments.

“Hmm… my schedule is already booked for the Iron Fortress, so I’ll have to pass. Log it as a refusal!”

Having just finalized his itinerary, no secondary contract possessed the allure to alter his course. It was simply a matter of poor timing.

“Ah, regarding that… I, I don’t believe an outright refusal is an option in this instance. The individual backing this requisition…”

Harley’s brow furrowed, a hint of irritation bleeding into his features at the clerk’s pushback. Standard protocols explicitly forbade the forced conscription of independent contractors.

“Spit it out, friend. I’m operating on a tight timeline, so give it to me straight.”

“R-Right! The proxy who filed the paperwork is a subordinate, but the legal entity registered as the primary client is…!”

The receptionist, his voice tightening under the pressure, paused. He cast a nervous glance around the bustling hall before leaning over the wooden partition, lowering his voice to an absolute whisper.

“Lord Tarmin Aonia…”

It was a name Harley had absolutely not anticipated.

“In short—the supreme ruler of this domain.”