“Boss, do we really have to hold back?”
“Should we just go right now and beat those bastards up? I feel like if I just hit them over the head, they’d die on the spot.”
“Shut up, you idiots. I’m thinking here.”
At the uproar from his subordinates, Darenberg clicked his tongue.
‘That Chamberlain bastard, he sure can run his mouth better than the Demon King.’
The way he poked and mocked was a work of art.
Especially that last bit.
The guy who’d been dancing on the line all along, that last punch he threw had definitely crossed it on purpose.
He wanted nothing more than to smash his head in right there, but there were too many things in the way.
One, the fact that he was a retainer of the Helpion Ducal Family.
And the second reason—
“Hey, what happened to your wrist?”
“What the— Is that blood? Did I get scratched somewhere?”
“You moron, say something that makes sense. You think you could get a scratch and actually bleed?”
At the commotion, Darenberg looked at his subordinate’s arm.
The arm that had reached out toward the Chamberlain in the Magic Tower.
It was now bleeding steadily from a gash, as if it had been hit by a blunt weapon.
“Did that mage girl do something just now?”
“Heh, you got taken down, huh?”
“Damn it, let’s storm the Magic Tower right now…”
Darenberg reviewed what had just happened in his mind.
The guy had reached out his hand. Was there any sign of mana at the time?
No, there hadn’t been.
Jamie’s ability was only at 5 Circles.
If anything had happened, a Swordmaster like himself would never have missed it.
The only movement had been the Chamberlain’s flustered gesture… Gesture?
Darenberg’s brow furrowed.
His subordinate’s skill was top-tier Sword Expert.
No ordinary weakling could even react at that speed.
But not only had the Chamberlain reacted, he’d almost grabbed the hand, hadn’t he?
Could those rumors on the street actually be true?
That the Chamberlain was such a formidable master, he once drove out a Sandman with sheer presence alone.
And the man was a retainer of the Helpion Ducal Family.
There might be secrets hidden there that even he couldn’t grasp.
“Hey.”
Having thought that far, Darenberg interrupted the idle chatter.
“Charles knows the location of the trade route, right? Said he’s got a grudge against them.”
“Yes, sir. They can’t enter the Duke Territory right now, so they’re camping nearby.”
“Forget attacking the Chamberlain. No matter how much of a bastard he is, he’s still a retainer of the Helpion Ducal Family. Think of the consequences.”
“What if we handle it quietly?”
“You think that’s possible?!”
The subordinate with the wounded hand asked blankly, and another exploded in a shout.
But in truth, Darenberg’s thoughts weren’t much different from the first guy.
“Of course, I’m not saying we’ll just swallow this humiliation. That’d disgrace the name of the Grizzly Mercenary Corps.”
A trace of nastiness showed on his face.
“That girl who was with the Chamberlain. His younger sister, right? We’ll target her. Looks like they’ve spent a hefty sum lately; nothing wrong with us taking that money for ourselves.”
Darenberg looked out toward the distant ducal castle.
A faintly visible space.
There, the strongest man in the world resided.
It had been twelve years since he came to the territory, drawn by that strength.
But the Duke had only ever met his own retainers, never once properly guiding or sparring with warriors who’d sought him out.
Maybe he’d stayed too long.
To be ignored by even such greenhorns…
“Pick a few elites from the Mercenary Corps, send them with Charles to the caravan. Once the job is done, get out of the Duke Territory and head straight for Count Afni’s domain. Lay low and act as if dead.”
At his command, the subordinates bowed their heads and moved quickly.
Left alone, Darenberg stood for a long while.
Until the sun set and long shadows stretched toward the castle, lingering like his own regrets.
The Duke of Helpion was engrossed in training at the drill yard.
His bare torso was marked with scars, each one a medal earned over decades.
Even those scars couldn’t hide the compact, dense muscles that announced his power.
Lately, the Duke’s training method had returned to basics.
He moved his sword at the slowest speed he could muster.
Sometimes, he spent the entire morning slashing sideways, or an entire afternoon thrusting.
He focused intently on the subtle movement of every muscle and the changes in his surroundings at each tiny motion.
He engraved onto his body how his movements changed the world.
“Your Grace.”
It was Butler-in-Chief Apel’s voice that interrupted his training.
“The Chamberlain’s prediction was correct. Head Maid Sherina just reported that Darenberg visited the grocer, then ordered his men to attack Lady Lone.”
“Is that so. The Chamberlain’s foresight was accurate.”
The Duke caught his breath and set his sword down.
Earlier that morning, the Chamberlain had come to him.
‘The Grizzly Mercenary Corps will come to see me. I’m going to provoke them today. It’s important to watch what they do afterward. I heard the Head Maid is a former assassin; may I borrow her just for today?’
He’d requested to borrow a senior retainer, someone who’d served the house even longer than the Duke himself, and who was on the verge of becoming a high-ranking Swordmaster.
Once he decided to trust someone, the Duke trusted them fully, so he’d agreed without complaint, but he hadn’t expected results this quickly.
All in a single day.
“Looks like we’re about to drive out a whole faction.”
“They’re leaving of their own accord.”
“Was I too indifferent to them?”
Apel said nothing.
Reality was too complicated to blame any one person.
The Duke treated everyone in the Duchy equally.
Within that, people like Elsia built their own Magic Towers and lived out their retirement in comfort.
Men like Darenberg simply weren’t satisfied.
But—
“At least the people who serve under you, Your Grace, you truly trust and entrust them, don’t you?”
“That’s right. Even now.”
The Duke pulled on his jacket, left in a corner of the training ground.
“Let’s go.”
“Will you be handling this personally?”
“They’re the Chamberlain’s family, after all. They ought to be kept safe. It’s cleaner if I tie off my own loose ends.”
I saw Lone off at the entrance.
Five whole carriages and ten hired hands—a massive trading party.
“Will you be alright without me?”
“Don’t worry. How long do you think I’m going to be treated like a child? I’ve been in the merchant guild even longer than you, you know.”
No matter how confidently Lone spoke, a little sister is always a little sister.
“There will definitely be an attack. You have to be careful.”
“You’ve already told me that a hundred times. Don’t worry. I can handle it. You think I’ve never been ambushed in all my years as a merchant? Besides, you worrying so much is why the Duke assigned his people to escort me.”
That might be true, but—
Even if they were the Duke’s soldiers, the opponents were the Grizzly Mercenary Corps.
If it was only Butler-in-Chief Apel or the Head Maid’s subordinates, it was only natural to feel anxious.
“Where are you headed after passing through Count Afni’s territory?”
“I’m planning to head up north first. They’re buying Basilisk Scales for a high price up there, so I think I can get at least 3 gold per kilo. On the way, I’ll stop by the Empire to sell Selvinas Tea, weapons, whatever else I can unload…”
A really long journey.
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’m thinking about a year.”
“I need to send you with a trustworthy merchant group. And you should try to come back within six months if possible.”
“I know. I can’t just leave such a good market and let someone else reap all the benefits.”
“You remember the items I asked for?”
Lone nodded.
The Helpion territory had only just started to walk.
The Duke had cleared out factions that weakened his rule and opened up trade routes that had been abnormally blocked.
For now, monster byproducts were enough to get by, but there was still a long road ahead.
The power base needed to expand, to become truly worthy of being called the Duke Territory.
To do that, they’d have to push the monsters’ domain even further outside the kingdom’s lands.
The tools I’d asked Lone to get were essential to that plan.
“See you next time, brother.”
With that casual farewell, Lone departed.
But could it really be called casual?
‘Next time.’
A farewell with the promise of meeting again always carried weight.
“Yeah. See you again.”
I watched Lone’s retreating figure, then headed back to the ducal estate.
The forest that had once been the home of Sandworms was now eerily quiet.
If a few days ago, the reason for the silence was the threat of monsters, now it was the emptiness left after all the Sandworms, masters of this place, had been removed.
But one thing was similar.
Sharp intent and murderous hostility pressed down on the air throughout the forest.
“They’re here.”
Hidden in the woods, Charles watched as horses and carriages came into view.
Five carriages.
An enormous scale.
“On my mark, everyone attack at once—take down the survivors and grab the goods, then get out fast.”
Charles drew the sword he’d sharpened just for today.
‘So you dared screw me over the other day, huh.’
He’d already forgotten it was him who’d tried to play a trick first. Now, all he could think about was revenge.
“Go!”
At Charles’s signal, those lying in wait moved.
With swift, agile movements unsuited for their size, they darted between the trees, weapons in hand, and charged into the carriages.
Clang!
A sharp sound rang as weapons cut through the air.
Thud.
Someone fell with a dull sound.
And Charles felt the same strange unease he’d experienced during the Sandworm incident.
A sense that things were going wrong.
Because the ones who fell first were his own allies.
“There’s nothing in the carriages but people!”
“Nothing! No goods, no Chamberlain’s sister, nothing!”
Screams echoed from all sides.
Just as they said.
There were no goods to be found in the carriages; only dozens of well-trained warriors’ weapons gleamed menacingly.
Soon after, fighting broke out everywhere. Despite their reputation, the Grizzly Mercenary Corps members fell one by one, almost pathetically.
The gap in skill between the mercenaries and the others wasn’t actually that great.
But three overwhelming experts stood by the carriages.
One was Butler-in-Chief Apel, who had surpassed the level of Intermediate Swordmaster.
Another was Head Maid Sherina, once called the Nightmare of the Assassin Guild.
And finally, the S-rank Mercenary, Chettrox, who wielded his entire body like a weapon.
All through the forest, death throes—barely even screams—echoed and faded.
By the end, not a single elite of the Grizzly Mercenary Corps, who had fought alongside Darenberg for thirty years, remained alive.
The Duke of Helpion recalled the plan Laward had submitted in his report.
How far had he schemed to establish such a simple principle?
Lone had packed all the trade goods into a large-capacity Magic Pouch purchased from Lady Elcia’s Magic Tower for five thousand gold, and set out alone.
Meaning, Darenberg and Charles, who had been fixated on the large merchant group, carriages, and the trade route, had fallen into a trap.
The very idea of moving so many goods by carriage just to make them easier to rob was naïve from the start.
And since Charles belonged to the Grizzly Mercenary Corps, any information about the trade route was sure to leak to them; even a child could guess the Corps would be lying in wait along the route.
Darenberg had figured they’d have no choice but to use the trade route, but that was his blunder.
But was that blunder just stupidity?
Would he himself have made the right decision, had he been in their shoes?
The Duke of Helpion couldn’t be sure.
That was why he personally stepped in, out of respect for the Chamberlain who’d devised such an excellent strategy.
The Duke let his beloved Stormbringer hang down to the ground.
So fast and precise were his movements that, even facing dozens of mercenaries, not a single drop of blood touched him.
Amid the quiet death spread out all around—
“Darenberg. Do me a favor and don’t run. I want to end everything here and now.”
“Damn it, no wonder I had bad dreams last night…”
Darenberg and the Duke of Helpion stood face to face.