Chapter – 32
Not long after the duel with the Mercenary King.
Amid the scenery of a pier wrapped in white-yellow sand,
someone spoke to me.
“Mind telling me where you’re headed?”
The one who spoke in a tone that failed to hide his displeasure was Lama Ren.
He was seeing me off at the docks.
I was leaving before the morning dew on the cobwebs had even evaporated, yet he somehow knew and came.
He looked at me with an expression that he couldn’t quite hide—something annoyed… maybe even resentful.
Expressions that didn’t suit him at all.
I didn’t particularly mind.
He had been wearing that face every time we met for a while now.
Anyway, where I’m headed?
I hesitated for just a moment and then answered honestly—no reason to hide it.
“To Nysesform.”
“That’s unexpected. A civil war already broke out there. It’ll be dangerous.”
“That’s why I’m going.”
“When I asked last time, you acted like you had no interest.”
“I want to experience a war.”
“You say that like you’re going out for a stroll.”
He muttered.
Was I?
Well, it wasn’t something a normal person would say.
The truth is, that wasn’t the reason I was going to Nysesform, so I didn’t want to continue the topic anyway.
Naturally, the conversation died.
“…….”
“…….”
As we stood awkwardly in silence, BWAAAAANG—a ship horn.
Time to prepare for departure.
Sailors with cloth wrapped around their heads to block the growing sunlight busied themselves raising the anchor and unfurling the sails.
We simply stood there, looking at each other without a word.
Then—
Just when the ship seemed ready to cut through the sea,
I said my farewell.
“Well then. See you next time.”
“Will we?”
“As long as I don’t die like a dog in the war.”
He gave a faint smile at my joke, then turned around and headed back toward the city.
Considering he was probably one of the busiest people in All of Bachenia, for him to come all the way here just to have such a trivial conversation… felt like I’d earned myself quite the impression.
When will we meet again?
Probably not too far in the future.
I might even get involved with his weapon—the gem-finding thing.
The ship began slowly cutting through the blue waves.
A perfect wind for sailing.
I glanced around.
Maybe they’d run out of room in the cargo hold; even the deck was piled high with goods.
The contents were obvious.
Weapons.
This ship was a trade vessel heading to Nysesform to sell arms.
Before the civil war, such things were traded in secret.
Now they were being transported openly.
One could take this as a sign that the war had truly begun.
Being careful not to disturb the cargo, I leaned against the railing.
It would take about fifteen days to reach the kingdom.
Once the white city had shrunk to a tiny dot in the distance, I grew tired of watching the scenery.
Endless sea, occasional islands—nothing more.
Seriously. I have to spend fifteen days in this?
It was becoming unbearable.
And then it happened.
Right near the railing I was leaning on—
one of the large crates on deck suddenly opened, and something rose out of it.
“UWAHAHAHAHA!!”
“Wh—! You scared me!”
“What’re you so shocked about!”
“…Why are YOU coming out of there?”
It was… the Mercenary King.
I stared in genuine confusion.
Why was this man here?
No, more importantly, why was he hiding in a crate?
Sure, he was famous as a mercenary, but he was still technically a king!
As if answering my question, he declared:
“I came after you!”
“…What?”
“I was curious about you!”
“…WHAT??”
And then—
“Let’s fight!”
“…….”
His ridiculous words drained the last drop of energy out of me.
This man…
“Yesterday you said something about ship’s biscuits and all that, and that it sounded boring.”
“Quit being petty, boy!”
You are the one who said that!
I’m not being petty—!
***
Land.
Land!
Solid earth!
The moment I stepped off the ship, before I could shout in joy, I collapsed to my knees.
What came out of my mouth was something entirely different from a cheer.
“Uweeeeeeegh.”
I couldn’t hold back the surge of stomach acid.
A miserable mess of half-digested food—neither solid nor liquid—spilled out.
Before I could even feel disgust, the pain spiked and I had one thought:
Déjà vu?
Didn’t this happen back in Fengrim Mountain?
Yeah… the first time I ran…
My mind wandered hopelessly.
Time passed and passed, the forecasted fifteen days eventually ended, and I finally set foot on land.
The port of Nysesform.
The time was just before dawn, when the restless starlight shyly begins to fade.
A dim moon tinged with blue shone on me as if to welcome me.
Just escaping that cursed deck made me want to jump for joy, but I couldn’t express any of it.
Sea-sickness?
If only.
If that were the case, at least I wouldn’t have fist-shaped bruises on my stomach.
A shout struck my ears.
“With all that whining, you call yourself a man!”
…What?
Whining?
I glared at the Mercenary King, Hyugen, with all the sincerity in my soul.
Apparently even a beast like him had some sliver of conscience left, because he avoided my gaze and instead started yelling at a random sailor.
Something about “a man should lift this faster,”
and “a man takes forever just to raise an anchor,”
and so on.
It was like he had a personal grudge against the word “man.”
My ears were about to sprout scabs from hearing it so much.
The sailor he yelled at looked like he was about to cry.
He too had suffered the Mercenary King’s pestering for the entire fifteen days, and had only just been moved to tears of liberation. Poor soul.
Watching him, I recalled the past weeks.
Back on the docks of Bachenia—right after the Mercenary King burst out of that ridiculous crate.
The journey to Nysesform had nothing to do except watching seagulls circle overhead or floating buoys drift by.
The sailors played little games together, but none of them suited my temperament.
And I wasn’t about to force myself to socialize.
Apparently Hyugen felt the same.
Bored after less than a day, he swung a fist at me and demanded a fight.
And I, thinking that suffering boredom was worse than befriending clouds, reluctantly agreed.
I should’ve refused.
No matter what, I should’ve ignored that fist.
Thinking about it now makes everything hurt again.
Clenching the pain in my stomach, I yelled:
“I am NEVER fighting you again!”
“Why? You enjoyed it.”
“Enjoyed WHAT?!”
What was that?
That sleazy tone you’d expect from a womanizer bragging about a night out?
My stomach churned for an entirely different reason.
He truly had a talent for pissing people off.
I knew I would get tossed into the air if I fought him, but I didn’t think he’d actually throw me into the ocean.
Because that’s… not something normal people do.
What I had underestimated was that Hyugen was not a normal human being.
Thanks to that—if I should call it thanks—I became surprisingly good at swimming.
I ground my teeth.
Who knew I could swim so fast that even a cutlass fish would want to be friends?
A hologram of that stupid thought flashed through my mind over and over, mocking me.
I really didn’t want to die out in the salty sea, so I learned purely out of desperation. Damn it.
He threw me several times a day, and once that got boring, he started punching me instead.
By the time I could split the sea and climb aboard immediately after being tossed, I guess he felt it was time for a change.
He was strong.
Of course he was—he was called the king of all mercenaries by sheer fist alone. I had no chance.
But I had pride.
Getting beaten like a dog on a summer day fueled my rage until I fought back, and he laughed heartily, taking me a little more seriously each time.
And every time he got serious, I got slammed face-first into the deck.
Again and again, until I realized one thing:
I had no talent for brawling.
Day fifteen. Today.
When land finally came into sight, I was ecstatic.
He found that annoying and finished our last sparring session with a solid punch to the gut—hence the scene earlier.
Having your insides twisted by a spinning fist, forcing stomach acid out of your mouth…
I never want to feel that again.
He was a truly awful person.
But now it was over!
I survived and reached land!
“You look mighty pleased for a man.”
“When are you going to stop following me?”
“Hm? Until I get bored.”
“And when will that be?”
“No idea.”
“…….”
Calm down.
The Mercenary King was impulsive—he could burn with interest and then snuff it out instantly.
Somehow, for reasons I didn’t fully understand, I’d caught his eye.
But he could decide it’s boring and leave at any moment.
If he didn’t stop following me, that was fine too.
The second arc of the story—The Reclaiming of the Throne—was centered on Nysesform’s civil war, and a man like him would be incredibly useful.
“Asking for another fight?”
…If I could just tolerate his miserable personality, that is.
I regretted not establishing a worldbuilding detail like universal headache medicine.
