Chapter – 31
Mercenary Request…
At daybreak, Firanceva stood in line to enter the Marquis Raymon’s castle.
“Next.”
Firanceva showed his mercenary tag to the soldier standing guard at the outer castle wall.
“Firanceva? Says here you’re a C-rank mercenary?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s the purpose of your visit to the territory?”
“Isn’t it natural for a mercenary to travel in search of work? I was hunting monsters in the Berti Gorge until recently.”
Though Firanceva’s body looked sturdier than that of a grown adult, he was only a sixteen-year-old youth.
The soldier could tell from his tone that he wasn’t very old.
“You don’t even look twenty. Being a C-rank mercenary at your age is impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“Firanceva, was it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s your life, but let me give you a bit of advice: don’t stay a mercenary too long. Someone like you could train as a knight and earn the title before you’re thirty. You should think about quitting this mercenary life and becoming a soldier or a knight.”
“Thank you for the advice. I’ve been thinking about that myself.”
“Good. Go on in. There’s a place called Blue Hill that opens even in the morning—you should get breakfast there.”
Firanceva thanked the soldier for his concern and entered the outer castle of Marquis Raymon’s territory.
He went off to find the restaurant called Blue Hill.
Smoke billowed from the chimney, and though it was early morning, the place was already bustling with people. Most of those eating were travelers who had spent the night outside the castle walls.
Firanceva found a seat. A staff member approached him.
“For breakfast, we don’t serve made-to-order dishes. We can give you salted bread, mushroom soup, and a bit of stew.”
“That’s fine.”
“Thirty bronze.”
Firanceva paid first. A moment later the staff returned with a fist-sized piece of bread, soup, and a small plate of stew made with meatballs.
“Enjoy.”
It was a simple meal, but plenty enough to fill one’s stomach in the morning.
As he ate, Firanceva整理 his thoughts about what he needed to do.
“First, I should write home to let them know I’m doing well. Then I’ll go to the dwarf-run forge and order armor. While it’s being made, I’ll take some jobs in this territory for a few days. After that, I’ll accept an escort or transport request heading to the capital, Varseille.”
Escort and transport jobs were mostly taken by mercenary companies, but in big cities—territories ruled by counts, marquises, or dukes—there were enough people coming and going that solo mercenaries had plenty of work opportunities too.
After plotting out his plans in his head, Firanceva took his time eating while waiting for the dwarven forge to open.
On the continent, besides humans, there lived other races collectively called demi-humans. The most notable were the elves and dwarves.
There were also races like giants, beastkin, and orcs, who lived in tribes or built their own settlements. But humans classified all demi-humans except elves and dwarves as monsters—beings they opposed and fought to protect the continent.
The biggest reason humans treated elves and dwarves as demi-humans rather than monsters was simple: they could communicate.
Since they could speak, it was easier to resolve issues through dialogue than violence. Elves possessed magic, swordsmanship, archery, and even spirit arts—different from elemental magic—powers humans didn’t wish to fight against. Instead, they found it beneficial to cooperate with elves.
Dwarves possessed extraordinary crafting ability and combat skills that surpassed humans, so their presence greatly helped human society. Humans had no reason to fight them.
Because humans, elves, and dwarves had communicated for so long, dwarves naturally came down to human lands, opened forges, crafted weapons, or built structures. Elves didn’t live mixed among humans, but they established spirit-user guilds in imperial and royal capitals, teaching spirit arts in exchange for goods they needed.
KAAANG… KANG… KANG……
Since morning, the sound of metal being hammered rang from the forge through the marquisate—almost like the alarm that woke the territory.
Some people even used the dwarves’ punctual hammering as their morning alarm.
Firanceva watched them work for a while from outside.
Dwarves were generally short. The tallest were around 150 cm, the shortest about 130 cm.
Considering humans averaged 180–200 cm, the height difference was obvious.
“What is it?”
A dwarf working inside spoke to Firanceva, who was peering in from the entrance.
“Oh—hello. My name is Firanceva. I came to request the crafting of armor.”
“Armor crafting?”
“Yes. I recently obtained the hide of a Stakato, and I’d like armor made from it.”
“Stakato hide? You’ve brought something rare.”
“I was lucky.”
“Come inside.”
The dwarf led Firanceva into the forge.
Despite the chaotic layout, the dwarves moved efficiently without blocking one another, each fully aware of their tasks.
They went through to the courtyard behind the forge.
“My name is Jabez.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Now then, let me see this Stakato hide.”
Firanceva unwrapped the tightly rolled Stakato hide from the cloth at his waist.
“Hoh!”
Jabez’s eyes widened.
When he heard Firanceva wanted armor made from Stakato hide, he assumed he meant a small amount—but what Firanceva spread out looked like the hide of an entire fully-grown Stakato.
“Did you hunt this yourself?”
“I got lucky.”
“Judging from the size, it was a large adult. Hardly something you ‘catch by luck.’ I heard a troublesome Stakato appeared in the Berti Gorge recently—was it that one?”
“Yes.”
“You’re wearing a sword, so you’re a swordsman. But ordinary blades wouldn’t even scratch this hide. Are you a mana-user?”
“I met a good teacher and awakened early. After leaving my teacher, I’ve been training while working as a mercenary. This is my fifth year.”
“You look young, yet you’ve done well.”
“I just work hard to survive.”
“With this amount, we could make several sets of armor.”
“I only need one. But please layer the scales three times, and inside the layers, add this.”
Firanceva took something out of his infinite pouch—it was Tarakuran spider silk.
“I haven’t seen Tarakuran silk in ages.”
Tarakuran referred to the queen of the giant spiders.
“Most people use it as thread. You want it stuffed layer by layer?”
“Yes. The silk is full of fiber—if an arrow pierces through the Stakato scales, the fibers will still slow or stop it. And it has resistance to magic, so it can withstand a degree of magical attacks.”
Jabez looked intrigued.
“You know your materials well.”
“As a mercenary, it’s good to carry at least one spare life.”
“True enough. Even with this, you’ll still have plenty of scales left.”
“You can use the rest, Master Jabez. Just make the armor for free.”
He meant he was paying for the armor with the leftover materials.
Jabez thought for a moment, then nodded.
“That’s fair enough. To make armor like this will take at least seven days.”
“That’s fine. I’ll stay in the territory and take jobs until it’s done.”
“Very well. But Firanceva.”
“Yes?”
“Did you brag about getting this hide to anyone?”
Firanceva shook his head.
“If I had, they’d have tried to kill me and take it.”
Which implied—if word spread in the marquis’ main city, it would be the forge’s fault.
“Then I’ll need to tell my workers to keep quiet.”
“I’d appreciate that. I really hate complications.”
“So be it.”
Firanceva stayed in Marquis Raymon’s territory until the armor was finished.
He spent most of his time at the mercenary guild, taking requests—mostly escorting merchants or guarding nobles rather than hunting monsters.
“Well, look who it is—Firanceva!”
A familiar man approached him in the guild’s lounge, smiling. He clearly knew Firanceva well.
“Oh, Guildmin! What brings you here?”
Guildmin was a C-rank mercenary Firanceva had worked with before—Firanceva had saved his life twice during monster subjugations.
“I took a transport job for the Lumen Trading Company and ended up here. Didn’t you say you were heading to the Berti Gorge?”
“Yes. I stayed there, but I arrived here two days ago.”
“So you stayed in the gorge for over a year?”
Guildmin looked shocked.
“Something like that.”
“You reckless brat—aren’t you afraid? If a monster wave hit and they pushed into Berti territory, what would you have done?”
Monster waves usually happened in winter when food became scarce—monsters would raid villages for food.
“As long as their numbers are culled regularly, they won’t swarm. And I heard monsters have never broken through into Berti territory.”
There were many mercenaries stationed there, and daily hunting kept populations in check.
“Still, you never know. Be careful.”
“I will. So—your escort job is done?”
“Yeah. I just reported to the guild and came to see what jobs are available.”
Firanceva grinned.
“So you earned money, then.”
“Money?”
“You got paid for the job, right?”
“…I did.”
“Then buy me a meal before you waste it all on women. Steak.”
Guildmin laughed and nodded.
“All right. I was thinking of treating you anyway.”
“Then we can go to the most expensive restaurant in the territory, right?”
“Hey now, escort jobs don’t pay that much! Let’s stick to a normal place.”
Indeed, the pay for mercenaries, compared to the danger they faced, was pathetically small.
“I was joking. Come on, let’s go. I’m starving. I could eat three kilos of steak.”
