"Greetings."
Eugene raised one hand in greeting, just as the burly mercenary.
"Is that child with you? May I ask your destination, by any chance?"
It sounded like an ordinary question, but it was actually a mercenary's way of gauging what kind of person the other party was.
Eugene, who knew from his past life on the run that hesitating or lying carelessly would only invite further suspicion, readily nodded.
"Yes. I'm on my way to Lord Tywin's castle."
"Oh, really? What a coincidence. We're also headed to Lord Tywin's castle. By the way, would you mind sharing a spot with us? We can offer you some liquor or water, and a bit of lamb."
"Hey, Captain, why are you being so nice to some drifter? Hey, we're setting up here too, alright? You got a problem with that?"
At that moment, a fairly young-looking mercenary stepped forward with a tilt of his chin.
"Shut your mouth and stand down."
When the burly captain suddenly growled and changed the atmosphere, the young mercenary flinched in surprise.
But as if he had never spoken so threateningly, the captain immediately turned back to Eugene with a friendly smile.
"My apologies. He hasn't been with us long. I'm Parthek. And you are?"
"Eugene. Yan Eugene."
"...!"
At Eugene's reply, Parthek's eyes widened slightly. The other mercenaries also seemed quite surprised and began watching the exchange between Parthek and Eugene closely.
Someone dressed so unusually and possessing both a given name and a family name was, in nine cases out of ten, a knight.
However, since they could not yet be sure whether he was genuine or an impostor, they simply followed the judgment of their captain, Parthek.
"So you are Sir Eugene. Once again, I apologize for my subordinate's rudeness. Raban, apologize to Sir Eugene."
"What? No, how does he look like a real knight at all? He barely talks and he's not even wearing armor!"
"Raban, you little—!"
"He didn't know any better, so let it go. And you—your rudeness ends here. If you doubt me once more, you die."
"What? No...Ugh!"
Raban never finished his sentence. Parthek had smashed his fist into the man's jaw.
dump.
After decked by a single blow, Raban collapsed like a rotten log. Parthek looked away from the unconscious man and bowed his head again.
"I sincerely apologize, Sir Eugene. We were short on manpower, so we rushed to recruit him. He truly knows nothing."
"I see. In any case, the apology is enough, so take a suitable spot and settle in."
"Thank you. Bilmoa! Come greet Sir Eugene."
At Parthek's urging, the middle-aged man who had been tightly tense ever since Eugene gave his name hurried down from the coachman's seat.
"I am Bilmoa of the Pailin Trading Company, Sir Eugene. I also apologize for the mistake of the mercenaries I hired."
"I am Yan Eugene. And I've said the apology is enough. Go ahead and set up your camp."
"Yes, then excuse me."
At the instructions of Parthek and Bilmoa, the mercenaries—excluding the unconscious Raban—began moving busily.
Some parked the wagon at an appropriate spot and set up a simple tent. Some quickly lit a fire and poured water and ingredients into a large pot. Others searched the area around the camp with torches and weapons in hand.
They moved crisply according to their roles, clearly not a group that had only worked together for a day or two.
'Aside from the one who got knocked out with a single punch, they're all proper mercenaries.'
And although Eugene knew nothing about the Pailin Trading Company, the fact that they were escorting a merchant who flew a company flag from his wagon meant they were experienced mercenaries.
'Then why did the Tiwin family hire those particular pieces of trash instead of mercenaries like these?'
Eugene recalled the mercenaries who had died at his hands near Broadwin Village.
Compared to those men, a group like Parthek's was far more reliable and reassuring—so why hadn't they been hired?
'Or they could've just sent their own soldiers. Strange.'
But Eugene didn't dwell on it any further.
His goal was simply to deliver Pellid safely and have his status confirmed by Lord Tiwin.
'If I want to avoid pointless suspicion, becoming a knight is the best option. For now, I'll focus on delivering Pellid and meeting the lord.'
After the awkward first introduction, Parthek and the mercenaries deliberately avoided showing any further interest in Eugene.
Eugene reread the village chief's letter, reviewing the letters he had just learned, while Pellid poked at the campfire, watching Eugene and the mercenaries cautiously.
About ten minutes later, as night fell and Eugene's heightened hearing picked up more clearly, he began to overhear the mercenaries' conversation.
"What about that bastard Raban?"
"He's still out cold. You could've taken it a bit easier on him."
When a subordinate clicked his tongue, Parthek frowned.
"He shouldn't have done something that deserved a beating in the first place. Are you not training that brat properly? It's been over a month and he still can't tell right from wrong—what are we supposed to do with that?"
"I'll train him better. But Captain, just between us… isn't it a little understandable why Raban reacted that way?"
"What?"
At the subordinate's low whisper, Parthek narrowed his brow.
"Well, you know… that knight feels a bit off to me too. Knights don't usually stay that quiet, and that kid with him doesn't seem like a squire. And in all my years doing this, I've never seen a knight who only carries a single short sword. Have you, Captain?"
"No."
"See? I'm telling you, he seems like an impostor no matter how you look at it. He doesn't even take off his helmet while resting at the camp. Suspicious, isn't it?"
"You idiot. Look at the robe he's wearing. It's reinforced with lycanslope leather. What crazy commoner would walk around wearing something that costs at least ten silver coins? And didn't you see him reading a letter? A knight who can read."
"Oh… yeah, I guess so."
"And on top of that, he says he's going to Lord Tiwin's castle. They say the dungeon that was discovered recently might be opened soon—he's probably aiming to take part in that."
"Wow, they say even knights risk their lives when a dungeon or labyrinth is opened for the first time. Must be someone with real skill."
"By the way, Captain… is Lord Tiwin really in that bad of a condition? I heard he might not last more than a day or two."
"Yeah. Even after pouring in magic stones, it seems there's still no real hope. But the Tiwin family doesn't have that much money. They can't keep feeding him those expensive things forever."
"True. If the dungeon had been discovered just one year earlier, he could've lived several more years, right?"
"Tch. You think discovering a dungeon is the end of it? You need soldiers to enter it, and you need money to keep those soldiers standing and in line."
"Is that so?"
"It is. And if you throw your already limited troops into a dungeon and they die, your territory collapses in an instant. That's why they can't just open it carelessly. And after Lord Tiwin collapsed, the only knight left in the family is the second son."
"Well, no matter how famous a knight was in his youth, once he grows old and loses his backing, there's no mercy. That family really is complicated. Huh? That knight is getting up."
As the subordinate glanced sideways, Parthek quietly turned his head as well.
The 'self-proclaimed' Sir Eugene, having stood up, touched his helmet and slowly removed it.
"Huh...."
Both Parthek and the mercenaries gaped in astonishment.
Even for men who had traveled far and wide, the strikingly handsome face revealed before them was enough to leave them stunned.
* * *
Seeing the mercenaries' reactions the moment he removed his helmet, Eugene finally felt fully at ease.
Originally, he had intended to take it off as soon as the topic came up—he needed to show that he wasn't suspicious.
But after hearing their subsequent conversation, it seemed that while the other mercenaries harbored doubts, Parthek himself did not.
Clearly, buying an expensive robe and learning to read had paid off.
In any case, just as he was about to remove his helmet for certainty's sake, talk of the Tiwin family—their destination—had piqued his interest.
'The lord might die any day now?'
There was talk of a dungeon as well, and the mercenaries seemed far more interested in that.
However, for Eugene, the far more important issue was that Lord Tiwin—whom he had assumed was merely bedridden due to poor health—was in far worse condition than expected.
'Will he still be alive by the time I arrive? He's not already dead, is he…?'
As Eugene was lost in those thoughts, he noticed Pellid staring up at him with his mouth hanging open.
"What's wrong?"
"What? Oh, it's nothing."
Perhaps it was because of the campfirelight, but Pellid's face seemed to flush red as he hastily lowered his head.
'Is he really a strange kid, just like Myrian said?'
Deciding that he had shown his face enough for now, Eugene sat back down.
"Ugh!"
Just then, the mercenary who had been knocked unconscious earlier suddenly bolted upright with a choking gasp.
"You awake? Drink some water and sit down. We're done setting up camp."
"Didn't that bastard get himself punched on purpose because he didn't want to work?"
"Better to get your jaw spun by Captain Partek than to pull three consecutive nights of sentry duty."
"Figures—you'd know best since you've been hit first before."
At his comrades' snickering remarks, Raban's face flushed bright red.
Then Raban's eyes met Partek's.
"What? Why? You got a problem?"
"No, sir."
"If not, then eat. I held back, so the swelling should go down in a day or two."
"Yes."
As Raban was about to sit down sulkily, something seemed to occur to him, and he snapped his gaze toward Eugene.
'That bastard… I'll just— Huh!?'
Seeing Eugene's face shimmering in the dying firelight, Raban's mouth fell wide open.
"He's insanely handsome…."
"Right? That's the guy some rookie merc tried to pick a fight with earlier. You, I mean,you."
"..."
Partek poked Raban at the temple, but Raban couldn't say a word.
"Raban, you little shit, you should know how lucky you are. If you'd said even one more word back then, that knight might've taken your head off."
"What? You're joking, right…?"
"Do you know what posture that knight had when you said your last line? His right hand went inside his robe, and his left foot slid slightly backward."
"Really…?"
"Yeah. And a knight can close that kind of distance in the blink of an eye. Then—slice. Your head hits the ground."
"...Isn't that guy maybe stronger than even the captain?"
"Probably so."
At the effortless reply, Raban swallowed dryly. Watching Eugene from afar, he asked again,
"What if all of us jumped him together?"
"Then everyone dies. If we're lucky, maybe I and one other guy survive."
"...!"
Knowing the capabilities of Partek and the veterans well, Raban's eyes widened in shock.
Partek spoke coldly to Laban.
"Listen carefully. Showing off and dying stupidly is part of this job. If someone attacks first, kill them—but avoid pointless clashes as much as possible."
"..."
"You want to pick fights with whoever you see? Then join a big mercenary company. Fight in territorial wars, go onto real battlefields, risk your life, loot to your heart's content. If you're lucky and survive five years, who knows? You might even become a mercenary captain and end up some noble's lackey."
"Ugh! If all that were possible, why would we be stuck doing this here?"
"Raban, you really are lucky. Most of the guys who started mercenary work around the same time as us? We've lost all contact with them. We're the only ones who haven't lost a single man in over three years."
"Alright, alright. Geez. Let's just eat."
The mercenaries' conversation ended in laughter.
Just then, a tapping sensation came from Eugene's waist.
Tap! Tap tap tap!
It was Mirian signaling for him to open it.
Figuring she'd been trapped long enough, Eugene opened the stopper.
Floating quietly in front of him, Myrian wore a dejected expression.
"I sincerely apologize, my lord, for this ignorant lowly one prattling on without knowing her place. I am naturally ignorant, so I cannot properly tell when to speak and when not to. From now on, I will diligently strive to become a learned spirit—one who is no longer ignorant and who can be of help to Lord Eugene!"
"help?"
As usual, Eugene had been half-listening, but a thought suddenly occurred to him.
"Yes! I shall surely shed my ignorance and be reborn as a spirit of great help— Huh? Where are you going?"
Eugene suddenly stood up and started walking. Myrian plopped down onto his shoulder.
"Pardon me for a moment."
Seeing Eugene's face up close, the mercenaries unconsciously swallowed hard.
But Partek did not let his guard down and stared at him with sharp eyes.
"Do you have business with us, Sir Eugene?"
"Didn't you say your destination is also Lord Tiwin's castle? I think it would be fine if we traveled together until then."
"...!"
They now fully believed him to be a knight. If so, perhaps they could indeed travel together.
'They know quite a lot of information. It'll definitely be useful.'
(To be continued in the next chapter)