Hierarchy sorting.
Whether beasts or humans working together in a group, a pecking order is necessary.
The irregular hierarchy sorting in our Black Tail Mercenaries is like bringing the covert struggles among males into the open.
It’s also an effective way to weed out those who act superior just because they’ve racked up years of service.
For instance, we’ve had guys who boasted about their five-plus years of mercenary life with empty bravado, only to be pruned during the hierarchy sorting.
There’s nothing better for cutting out those trying to coast by with fake credentials in our Black Tail Mercenaries.
“Uirak. Gairos. Ready?”
“Yes!”
“Anytime!”
Surabar stood on the sandy training grounds, looking at Uirak and Gairos, who tightly gripped the ropes tied around each other’s waists.
It looked like wrestling or sumo. The rules weren’t much different either.
Uirak and Gairos.
Both were second-year mercenaries in the Black Tail Mercenaries, technically my seniors by experience.
You could even call them proper seniors.
Aside from me, they’re still in the “youngest” position in the band, so we’ve bonded over doing laundry by the river.
They’re decent guys, not the type to order me around with petty errands like Furdwal does, which makes them proper, likable seniors.
Normally, they go around with goofy grins, but they get serious when it counts, so even Surabar, though he doesn’t say it outright, looks on them favorably.
I also think well of these two hardworking seniors.
They’re kinda cute with how hard they try.
If Uirak and Gairos knew my inner thoughts, they’d be dumbfounded, but what can you do about reality?
Honestly, aside from Surabar, the only ones worth noting are Furdwal and Tenok. The other members fall far short by my standards.
I mean in terms of pure skill, not knowledge or experience in the mercenary trade.
“What’s their record?”
“Four matches, two wins, two losses. Second to last, those guys.”
“Pfft.”
The senior mercenaries watching snickered at the two, still considered “newbies.”
I gave a small smile, observing the cold, hard moment of my “seniors’” competition.
Hierarchy sorting can be done like wrestling, bare-knuckle fighting, or sometimes with weapons (blunted, of course).
The lower the rank, the less risky the format, since less experienced members are more prone to injury.
It may seem brutish, but it shows Surabar’s thoughtfulness in minimizing injuries while maintaining our strength.
“Grrr…!”
“Argh!”
Thud!
The close match between the two best-friend beastmen finally ended.
Against everyone’s expectations, Gairos, who looked precarious throughout, managed to topple Uirak by a hair’s breadth.
The moment his back touched the sand, the match was decided.
“Woooh! I won!”
Gairos let out a triumphant cheer, and the watching seniors clapped for both winner and loser.
“Winner, Gairos. Uirak, any objections? Speak now.”
“…None. I accept it. I was lacking.”
“Good.”
Uirak had dominated the match, but Gairos won in the end.
It was Gairos’s victory, waiting out Uirak’s exhaustion.
Normally, Uirak slightly edged out Gairos, but in a direct match like this, you can’t easily predict the winner.
As with monster hunting, those who put in a bit more effort behind the scenes tend to come out on top.
The world, surprisingly, often rewards those who work hard honestly. Mostly.
I knew Gairos never slacked on self-training late into the night.
This time, the weight of his sweat tipped the scales in his favor.
“Next.”
Surabar called the next members.
Twice a year.
This hierarchy sorting, held without a fixed date, greatly contributes to making our Black Tail Mercenaries stronger and more resilient.
Even if they spend their off days at taverns or brothels, acting like there’s no tomorrow, you can still catch them quietly training their stamina behind the scenes.
In our Black Tail Mercenaries, even decent effort and self-training barely keep you in place.
I was usually too busy with menial chores and meticulously hand-washing my respected seniors’ clothes to have time for that. Not that I needed to, being a swordmaster.
Guess it’s time to graduate from being the youngest… Feels bittersweet.
I’ve been the youngest for so long, it’s about time to move on.
The members Surabar called stood up immediately.
Lower-ranked members grabbed each other’s waistbands on the sandy grounds, striving to knock their opponent down, while mid-tier members fought barehanded.
After several rounds of victories and defeats, the members tilted their heads, looking at me.
Being the youngest doesn’t exempt you from hierarchy sorting.
But with only Furdwal and Tenok left, and my name still not called, it was puzzling in many ways.
“Leader? Isn’t Paramir joining? Something wrong?”
“Paramir…”
Surabar looked at me, scratching his dark beard, still seemingly undecided.
I quickly shook my head, making an “X” with my fingers to silently convince the leader it wasn’t okay.
We’d talked briefly last night, but the leader seemed intent on making me second-in-command.
Even in a culture that prioritizes skill over experience, jumping from youngest to second-in-command felt too radical to me.
Honestly, it’s like finding out the youngest employee at a company anniversary is the chairman’s son or grandson after less than a year.
I don’t want some grand position to show off. I just want to quietly do well under the leader.
Whether he accepted my intent or not, Surabar sighed and finally called my name.
“Paramir.”
Hearing those words, I stepped onto the sandy grounds. Seems my soft heart couldn’t resist the leader’s will.
“Furdwal, Tenok. Both of you face Paramir.”
“Swords?”
“Yes.”
The two stood up, stretching, bringing a practice sword for me.
Everyone’s puzzled expressions were both amusing and oddly cute.
They don’t realize it themselves, but when they tilt their heads like that, they look exactly like confused dogs or cats.
If they weren’t all guys, it’d be even nicer to watch.
A bit of a shame, but the moment I took the blunted sword from Furdwal, that regret flew far away.
Now, it’s time to escape this tiresome youngest role.
“Hey, Paramir. Easy, okay? Don’t go too hard.”
“Me too, alright? You know I’ve been real good to you, right?”
“I know.”
That’s why this feels even better, my dear seniors.
Holding the blunted sword, I looked at Furdwal and Tenok standing side by side.
Zing… The two, sensing their inevitable defeat, lowered their tails and tried to gauge my mood, but it was no use.
Becoming second-in-command felt a bit daunting, but a small part of me thought it wasn’t so bad.
Haha, it’s time to declare to everyone who’s above and who’s below!
***
Surabar sighed, looking at me kneeling voluntarily with my arms raised to the sky, muttering, “I’m sorry. I messed up…”
“I told you to go easy…”
“I didn’t mean to go that far. I didn’t think their bones would break like that… Really, Leader.”
“…No helping it. At least everyone knows your strength now, so there’ll be no complaints.”
The hierarchy sorting ended in a flash.
Without even using aura, the Black Tail Mercenaries’ first-ever 2-on-1 hierarchy match ended in my overwhelming victory.
I was already a swordmaster back when I was being sold as a slave.
The problem was I enjoyed the “hierarchy sorting” sparring too much. I thought it’d be fine… but I ended up putting cracks in their bones. Entirely my fault.
Because of that, the two had to get expensive treatment from the Elon Sect.
As a result, the extra funds Maximilian gave us were completely drained.
We could’ve rested at least three more days, but tight finances meant we had to take on a new subjugation mission.
“Congrats, Paramir. You’re now second-in-command after Surabar. Higher than me now? Congrats.”
Hoo hoo… Naturally, it was Jasmine sitting on the best bed in the lodging, smiling.
Her golden, lush fox tail was tickling Surabar’s thigh.
“From the moment I saw you, I felt something special. Not like what I felt for you, dear—no jealousy, right?”
“Ahem, ahem…! No.”
“So cute. I meant he’d become a great asset to our mercenary band. Don’t misunderstand, my jealous tiger.”
“Uh, can’t you do this lovey-dovey stuff where no one’s watching?”
Jasmine’s interest in the hierarchy sorting quickly faded.
She kissed Surabar’s cheek, pretending to be calm, and pulled his head into an embrace.
Though they haven’t officially married, Surabar and Jasmine are in a fiery honeymoon phase.
Unlike Surabar, who’s conscious of others’ eyes, Jasmine doesn’t care who’s watching and showers him with affection when she feels like it.
Man, a wife that affectionate and adorable (especially those ears and tail)—I’m jealous enough to lose it!
“Don’t worry. Paramir’s a swordmaster. Goblin extermination’s nothing, right, Paramir?”
“Leave it to me. I won’t disappoint.”
After a suitable amount of affection, Jasmine mentioned the subjugation mission the leader had hastily taken.
Goblin extermination.
A common mission that comes around every spring, meant to control the goblin population—a seasonal routine.
It’s less like monster hunting and more like pest control.
Not dangerous, and the pay’s decent enough.
“Paramir. Everyone saw you fight today, but leading guys in the field isn’t easy. Those at the top always need to think two or three steps ahead.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Leader.”
Surabar gave a small laugh at my words.
I quietly lowered my punished arms and stood up.
The hierarchy sorting was done, and I’d shown my strength (hiding my swordmaster status) in front of Surabar and all the members. Now, only the real thing remained.
I don’t know where they keep crawling out from, but I just need to deal with as many of these damned, disgusting green goblins as possible.
You can’t wipe them out even if you wanted to.
“Just do it like always, right? Even Furdwal and Tenok could handle it.”
“When did our youngest get so dependable?”
“Don’t worry and take it easy. It’s a rare break, isn’t it? Spend some good time with Jasmine, Leader.”
“Did you hear that, Surabar? Our little one’s saying stuff like this now. So proud! Wasn’t it a steal getting him from Maximilian for cheap back then?”
“…Thanks for that.”
Smack, smooch! Escaping Jasmine, who was kissing Surabar’s face like it was going out of style, I left the room. There’s nothing left to say or see.
Better to disappear quickly for everyone’s sake.
God, how embarrassing.
I shut the door firmly, mortified.
For the leader’s “honeymoon break,” I’d be taking charge of this goblin extermination in his place.
As I said, even without me or the leader, Furdwal and Tenok could handle these guys, so I wasn’t worried at all.
The only issue was how to do it easily, quickly, and cost-effectively.
There’s always a way.
It’s not that hard.
Slash, twist their necks, crush them.
For the ones fleeing into tunnels, pour oil and burn them alive.
Even without being a swordmaster, it wouldn’t be difficult.
***
The next day.
Setting out at dawn for the goblin extermination mission, I heard unexpected news.
Furdwal, his swelling mostly gone, approached me cautiously with a report.
“No oil support, Paramir.”
“What?!”
The goblin hunt was off to a rough start. We’re screwed!