Chapter 10: Anuata (1)

Sir Garland, uncharacteristically for a noble, kept his promise as soon as we returned to the city.

We received exactly double the reward stipulated in the original contract.

“Not bad,” Surabar said, giving the highest praise he could muster.

I shrugged, while Furdwal and Tenok were thrilled about their increased shares.

The other members, who’d worked hard digging pits and doing their part among the human soldiers, were so overjoyed with their bonuses that their tailbones might’ve ached from wagging.

They rushed off to places where they could indulge in booze and women (Royce would probably greet them—maybe), looking like they’d blow through their money in three days.

So what?

That’s the mercenary life.

Fight, revel, then head out to fight again.

“Then I’ll…”

“Wait, Paramir.”

The leader grabbed my shoulder as I started to follow Furdwal.

“Ugh, I want to wash up. The goblin blood’s still sticky.”

“It’ll just take a moment.”

What now?

Following the leader, I entered the finest room where he and Jasmine were setting up their newlywed life (?).

As I opened the door, Jasmine, waiting inside, waved with a smile.

“Jasmine, I’m back from the extermination mission. As the leader’s proxy. I did well, right?”

“Looking for praise? Alright, I’ll give it to you.”

Good job, good job! Jasmine knelt and patted my head like I was a puppy.

“Jasmine,” Surabar said with a stern expression.

“Alright.”

Jasmine and I returned to our places—she sat on the bed, while I stayed on the floor.

“Paramir, while you were gone, I… did some thinking.”

“Thinking?”

“…About whether I can be a good father. I grew up without parents. I don’t think I can properly be a father to the child Jasmine and I will have. Honestly, I’m not confident.”

Jasmine winked and whispered, “He’s more of a coward than you’d think.”

I could hear her. So could the leader.

Ahem, ahem…!

Blushing with embarrassment, Surabar pretended not to hear and continued.

“So, Paramir, I’d like you to be the godfather to our child.”

“Godfather?”

“Yes, godfather. Be the godfather to our child, Paramir.”

Godfather?

Me, who doesn’t even have a girlfriend?

To the leader’s child, no less?

“Look, Leader, are you sure? I like and respect you and Jasmine, but… I’m human, you know? Not to toot my own horn, but I’m not exactly normal—”

“Being human doesn’t matter. You’ve gotten along well with my crew. I’d bet there’s not a single one who’d want you gone. And… if a swordmaster is the godfather, even if something happens to us, our child will grow up well.”

“But still…”

I tried to protest his unexpected request, but I was at a loss for words.

Surabar and Jasmine trusted an awkward guy like me so much—it hit me hard.

“…You’re really okay with me? You won’t regret it later?”

“We’ll deal with that when it comes. Someday, everyone will know you’re a swordmaster. If that happens, I want you to protect our child as their godfather and guardian. This is a precaution. Paramir, as your former owner who bought you as a slave and the leader of the Black Tail Mercenaries, I’m asking—no, begging—you to indulge my selfishness.”

“No, Leader, don’t bow! Alright, alright, I’ll do it!”

And so, after returning from the goblin extermination, I unexpectedly became a godfather.

I don’t even know the kid’s name yet!

“Have you decided on a name?”

“…We’re working on it.”

“Skoll for a boy, Hati for a girl. But he thinks there might be better names. Or maybe he wants to add ‘Bar’ like his own,” Jasmine said.

“Jasmine, I just…”

“Alright, alright, baby daddy. We’ll name the first two, and you can name the third?”

“Haa…”

Jasmine playfully poked Surabar’s cheek as he sighed.

“You’re not unconfident, are you?”

The leader shook his head. It’s well-known that beastmen often have large families.

“I’ll let you know if I think of a good name!”

I was promptly kicked out of the room. The leader’s shout thundered through the door like lightning.

“Get out!”

Hehe, I saw you blushing!

***

“Paramir! Wanna grab a drink?”

“Later. I’ve got something to do first.”

“Skipping out again? Don’t tell me you’re into guys!”

“Later! I’m really busy! Keep talking nonsense, and you’re dead!”

Ignoring Furdwal’s finger-wagging, I left the inn.

Hugging women is great, but I had something to investigate first.

Anuata.

During the battle, in a critical moment, she appeared out of nowhere, a vision only I could see.

Not just once—in the pool of goblin blood after I’d killed them all, her face appeared again.

A forest troll shaman.

I’m starting to doubt if she’s even an ordinary monster.

Speaking human language wasn’t enough—now she’s projecting her face into thin air?

No matter how calm I try to stay, this isn’t normal.

If that disgusting forest troll’s face keeps popping up, I might have to quit mercenary work.

Her sudden appearances in the middle of life-or-death battles are a nightmare.

Even setting aside her ugly face, this is definitely not normal.

“What the hell is Anuata?”

Now that I think about it, Jasmine said she’d look into Anuata, but she probably forgot.

The baby comes first. Can’t blame her.

It’s not like it’s urgent enough for Jasmine and Surabar to prioritize.

Right now, their unborn child is the most important thing in the world to them.

I’ll buy something Jasmine likes on my way back and casually ask her then.

“Anuata… Anuata…”

Garam Forest is close to Mosul, where we live.

It’s been a familiar, almost familial place for Mosul’s people for ages, but a few hundred years ago, monsters like never before started appearing, though no one knows exactly when.

That’s why a despised beastman mercenary group like ours could settle in this unremarkable fief.

“A forest troll and a shaman? What’s that about? Maximilian, know anything?”

Back at the mercenary guild, I found Maximilian, glasses on, wrestling with a pile of papers.

“Damn it, I’m not your librarian who answers every question you throw at me. Need knowledge? Go to the library.”

He set down his reading glasses, speaking gruffly.

His tough-guy act was pretty funny and no longer felt out of place.

He’s starting to look good.

Living among rough mercenaries, he’s picked up a bit of manliness.

If this is growth for a former desk-jockey scholar, then it’s growth.

Maybe it’s like watching Surabar and Jasmine’s kid grow up bit by bit?

I don’t know, but it’d probably feel even better.

“The library’s for nobles only. You’re a noble, Maximilian, so I thought maybe—”

“Noble? Do I look noble? I’m your errand boy! Stop bothering a busy man and get lost!”

“Don’t say that. Help me out. Last time, I killed a forest troll who called herself Anuata. What kind of monster speaks human language? I was shocked.”

“…Damn it.”

Maximilian glared at me, then stood, pulled out a sheet of paper, and signed it.

Scribble. Examining the paper, I saw elegant cursive writing incomprehensible to me.

“Anuata, Inuyasha, whatever—I don’t know. Show this, and they’ll let you into the library. Now stop pestering me.”

“Maximilian, you know what?”

“What now?!”

“You’re a better branch leader than I thought. Hope you stick around.”

“Get out! I hate you guys! Hate you!”

“Hehe!”

I hurried out of the branch leader’s office under his ferocious eviction.

Say what you will, Maximilian’s the best branch leader we’ve had.

Not that I ever met the previous ones face-to-face!

***

The library. In modern times, it’s a place of shared knowledge for citizens, but in Armenia, only a privileged few can access it.

That’s why Maximilian writing a letter of recommendation just for me, a lowly mercenary, was a huge favor.

For a guy like me—no family name, no noble blood, no powerful backing—a library recommendation letter from the branch leader is worth more than platinum coins, probably because he was desperate for me to leave him alone.

But still, the feather-light letter with Maximilian’s signature held immense value.

Not a metaphor—literally.

Library access is a privilege in itself, and he just handed it over. Our branch leader’s bolder than I thought.

The library was in the Sky Garden district, where nobles and wealthy families resided.

I left my sword at the lodging to avoid suspicion and dressed as neatly as possible, but the gazes I got on the way to the library were filled with the nobles’ disdain.

Yeah, this is the Human Empire’s classy discrimination, dividing people by rank. So refined, so sweet.

One day, when the tables turn, I’ll enjoy those privileges, so no need to get mad now.

“In Elon’s name, brother, what brings you here? I’m Moriah, a servant of the great Elon.”

After a couple of inspections, which I passed by showing the recommendation letter, I reached the library entrance. 

There stood Moriah, who looked like a bounty of three hundred million berries was on his head.

White-green robes? A priest of the Elon Sect?

The gem-encrusted pendant around his neck confirmed he was a high-ranking priest of the Elon Sect.

So, Mosul’s library is managed directly by the Elon Sect. News to me.

“Well…”

I quickly pulled out Maximilian’s recommendation letter.

My clothes and subtle demeanor screamed I was from the commoner—or lower—districts.

No one would take my word at face value, so showing the letter first was easier for me and Moriah, the library keeper and high priest of Elon.

Moriah calmly read the letter and nodded.

“Hm, Maximilian has been devout since childhood. Follow me, Brother Paramir.”

He pointed to a side door next to the massive library gate, leading the way.

By the way, our branch leader? Never seemed devout at all!

Not once did he show any faith in front of us!

I’m getting shocked a lot today.

Godfather, recommendation letter, and now Maximilian’s hidden piety?

Following Priest Moriah, I wondered what else awaited me, my heart pounding with excitement.

I’m totally doki-doki!