Chapter 13: Anuata (4)

In the city of Mosul, at the mercenary guild, Branch Leader Maximilian sighed lightly and spoke.

“I knew you’d say that. Don’t take it personally—I’m just a powerless branch leader.”

“I know. But we need money. Got any more decent jobs?”

“Well… I don’t want to point fingers, but you guys are too competent. In Garam Forest, aside from forest trolls and goblins, there’s hardly anything worth your time. And you’ve already dealt with those. Nearby cities are short on monsters too.” 

“Nobles won’t hire beastmen as escorts… Oh, how about this? Gunnar’s recruiting soldiers. They say they don’t care about race, as long as you’ve got skill.”

“Let me take a look.”

Surabar examined the paper Maximilian handed him.

The Human Empire. The Emperor’s seal.

A recruitment notice featuring a winged serpent poised to soar.

“Open to all races…? That’s rare.”

Normally, only humans are recruited as soldiers for the Human Empire or its allies.

But this notice explicitly stated, in bold letters, that beastmen were welcome too.

“Just as Maximilian said.”

Gunnar, a fortress city.

In Mosul, tightly controlled by the Border Count, mercenary work was scarce.

Truth be told, things were different at first.

Ten years ago, there was plenty of work.

For reasons unknown, the Border Count’s personal soldiers were few, poorly trained, and undisciplined.

Monsters from Garam Forest often reached the city, and there was plenty to do within Mosul itself.

It was a busy, tough time, but the money was undeniable.

Now, Mosul was a better place for ordinary people to live.

But for martial groups like mercenaries, who thrive on chaos, work had dried up.

As Maximilian said, perhaps they’d been too diligent.

Surabar sat, deep in thought.

The fortress city of Gunnar was far from Mosul, where they’d settled.

“The Curse of Saberhan… We fled to escape it, and now we’d return? Fate? Or the gods’ joke?”

Gunnar was close to Saberhan, the beastmen’s homeland.

The Emperor likely summoned troops from across the empire to counter Saberhan’s curse.

Why else would they recruit beastmen as soldiers?

“It might not be a bad deal for you. Think about it. I’ll never know what the Emperor’s planning, but if Saberhan’s reclaimed, it’s a chance to return to your homeland, right? No Demon Army there, and if you prepare for the cold, it could be good.”

Surabar nodded quietly at Maximilian’s words.

He wasn’t wrong.

Unlike past branch leaders who treated them like near-slaves, Maximilian genuinely sought work for Surabar, his mercenaries, and Jasmine.

His passion was excessive for a mere figurehead. Surabar wasn’t foolish enough to miss that.

“Honestly, Mosul doesn’t need you anymore. You know the saying: a hunting dog’s boiled when the hunt’s over. Especially one with untamed wolf blood…”

“The masters wouldn’t like that.”

“Exactly.”

“Masters” meant the ruling class of the Human Empire and its allies. The “dog” was the Black Tail Mercenaries.

Even among beastmen, those assimilated into the empire were distinguished from those who weren’t. Surabar’s group was the latter.

He knew their usefulness was waning, and the time to be hunted was approaching. How did he know? Instinct.

After the recent forest troll and goblin extermination, there was little left for beastmen mercenaries who hunted monsters for a living.

Even if new monsters appeared, the Border Count would use them as training for recruits and knights, not mercenaries.

The moment of choice, long delayed, had arrived.

“…It’s not easy. Jasmine’s pregnant. The north isn’t guaranteed safe. And the journey—passing through human cities hostile to us. You know how many we’d face.”

“Yeah… you’re right.”

Surabar carefully folded the recruitment notice and tucked it into his pocket.

He wouldn’t go immediately, but he wouldn’t rule it out forever.

He felt an odd pull toward the notice.

No beastman, no Bar, wouldn’t want to reclaim their homeland.

“There’s gotta be some work.”

“There’s one, but I don’t recommend it. If you’re okay with it…”

“I’ll take it.”

Surabar forcibly accepted the job Maximilian hesitated to mention.

“I warned you.”

“You always do.”

Maximilian rubbed his face and sighed heavily. It was a matter of survival. He knew better than anyone that Surabar wouldn’t back down.

“I’ll handle this job first. We leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t overthink it, Surabar. You don’t have to stick to mercenary work. I’ll look for something else.”

“Barhan provides what we need.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Jasmine does. I’m going.”

Surabar left the branch leader’s office.

Maximilian sighed.

Life for beastmen in the Human Empire was harder than anyone could imagine.

“Elon, please.”

He clutched the Elon Sect symbol he always carried—a stag representing compassion, love, peace, and rest—and prayed sincerely, as always.

“Grant them your mercy.”

***

I ran into an unexpected person at the library.

I’m never ashamed, but I couldn’t show The Lustful Dragonian Maid collection to Sir Garland.

We’re not that close yet.

“Lord Paramir? As expected, you neglect neither martial nor scholarly pursuits.”

“Haha… it’s nothing. Just a bit of curiosity.”

“Humble too! Admirable!”

Garland sincerely praised me like I was some saint. Please, stop. I’m dying of embarrassment…

“May I have a moment?”

“Of course.”

I handed the three books, titles hidden, to Priest Moriah and returned to Garland.

Phew… nearly got socially buried.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I walked outside the library with him.

I didn’t want to spend uneasy time with a highborn, especially the Border Count’s heir, but what choice did I have?

A lowly mercenary like me can’t defy a noble’s heir.

When the next Border Count says, “Let’s talk,” I can’t just say, “I’m busy.”

In a world that openly discriminates by class and race, unlike places that pretend equality, knowing your place is key.

And I’m pretty good at that.

“I’ve wanted to meet you. And your mercenary leader. A warrior as strong as you bows to him—a beastman, a tiger, no less. He’s no ordinary man. I looked into him, and he’s done more for our city than I thought. A rare, fine man.”

“Absolutely. Our leader’s a bit different from your average mercenary.”

“A bit…? Speak freely, like before. I don’t want stiff formalities in private.”

Come on, a lowly mercenary like me… I bowed, saying as much, but Garland’s stern gaze ordered me to act as I did in Garam Forest.

Ugh, this is the hardest demand for a lowlife like me. I’m flattered, but…

“Lord Paramir, you’re a fascinating man. Haha!”

“Haha…”

Damn, I left too strong an impression.

If I hadn’t fallen into that pit, things wouldn’t be like this. Damn you, Anuata! I wanted to punch that disgusting forest troll.

Too bad she’s already dead by my hand.

“I really wanted to meet you.”

“…Pardon?”

Under the bright sunlight filtering through fluffy clouds, Garland spoke.

Spill… I accidentally spilled the fruit drink he’d bought me. Sir Garland… it’s not what I’m thinking, right? Right…?

“Taking down a goblin horde single-handedly isn’t something I or the castle knights could easily do. You’re stronger than titled knights and possess wisdom and experience we don’t.”

“It’s just what we do to survive. You’re giving me too much credit.”

“No, I’m not.”

Garland shook his head. Oh, I think I know where this is going…

“I’ll be direct. Will you work for me? It’d be better than mercenary life, I guarantee. If there’s something you want, I’ll make it happen, if it’s within my power.”

“Sir Garland, this is so sudden…”

“Is it? Don’t feel pressured. Honestly, you’re too good for mercenary work. If you’re worried about your background, I can fix that. I have marriageable sisters, quite beautiful, if I do say so. Meet them, and if you like, marry one.”

“I don’t want to send my dear sisters far away. A humble, bright, and strong warrior like you—Father would approve.”

Garland’s eyes sparkled.

Good gods! All this for killing a few goblins (well, maybe fifty)?

I get that the next Border Count, ruling Mosul—the city closest to the Demon Army—needs loyal strength. But this offer was beyond extravagant.

This is trouble.

A bright red warning light flashed for my future mercenary life.

I could understand being offered a knighthood to serve him.

But offering his sister’s hand in marriage to recruit me? That’s too much.

Since he mentioned the Border Count’s approval, it seems they’d already discussed recruiting me.

“If you’re willing, I’ll support you fully. Oh, and every swordsman dreams of becoming a swordmaster. I believe you could do it. If needed, I’ll provide rare elixirs. What do you say?”