Episode 25

Allen’s recruitment targets this time were three in total.

One suitable as a first-row shield bearer, one for the second-row ax brigade, and one third-row archer.

Allen had wanted to recruit the first-row shield bearer if possible but was firmly rejected by the mercenary group leader on the first day of his visit.

“Our relationship is solid. It’s not feasible to transfer him now, nor do we have the intention to. Let’s consider this conversation to have never happened.”

There was no room for negotiation. Even the man targeted seemed to have no interest in transferring… In truth, it might not have been entirely impossible if Allen had handed over a hefty sum of gold to the leader, but it didn’t seem worth the investment.

Thus, the attempt to negotiate for the first recruitment selection ended there.

Allen moved on to the second target.

The leader of this mercenary group had the trait of [Desire]. A trait one step higher than [Greed], making the negotiation itself quite tricky… Of course, how many of the group leaders were normal to begin with?

As expected, as soon as they got to the negotiation table, the leader started with tricks.

“200 gold coins.”

‘Bullshit.’

Allen was about to curse directly at that smugly smiling face. As his expression soured, the opposing group leader quickly made an excuse.

“Do you know how much money I’ve spent raising this bastard to be somewhat useful? This is about recouping those investment costs.”

“Then keep raising him well.”

As Allen was about to stand up and leave, the guy hurriedly grabbed him.

“Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll be generous, 180.”

“I won’t give more than 100. Decide now. Are we doing this or not?”

The moment he heard a word of denial from the man’s mouth, Allen made a gesture as if he was about to leave immediately. Seeing this, the man reacted in confusion.

“No- no matter what, isn’t 100 like robbery—!”

“Then it’s fine.”

As Allen turned around and briskly walked towards the door, his opponent finally surrendered.

“Ah, alright, I got it. 110. Can’t go lower than that. Let’s negotiate at 110—!”

Still, Allen did not stop. Eventually, the opponent slammed the table with his fist and shouted.

“Fine, 100. Fuck, Damn it. Alright, we’ll do 100—! …Fuck.”

Allen halted at his words and then returned to his seat with a broad smile. The group leader, inwardly feeling outsmarted, couldn’t quite understand why he was willing to pay as much as 100 gold coins to take the guy with him. He had some skills, yes, but that seemed to be all there was to it. Honestly, it was not like there were only one or two guys like that in the business.

Anyway, the two wrote a contract, and with that, the agreement between the mercenary groups was concluded.

Of course, if the person in question strongly opposed the transfer or if the salary agreement was not smoothly reached, the story would change, but usually, such cases were rare. After all, mercenaries led a life of wandering from one place to another, never clinging too much to one mercenary group. Moreover, the salary at the time of transfer was often higher than before. With an offer of more pay than before, which mercenary would refuse?

After finishing the negotiation, the two lightly shook hands.

“Take him with you.”

“It was a beneficial time.”

As the counterpart left, the mercenary who had been waiting outside came in. It was the very man Allen had agreed on for 100 gold coins.

Honestly, it was ambiguous to say that his stats were good. Especially since he was comparable to Old Dog Kalisman, who had the [Frail] trait. He probably had an average status within the mercenary group. From the perspective of the opposing faction’s leader, they must have wondered why they would want to take him for as much as 100 gold coins.

However, Allen’s perspective was different from others. If nothing else, the [Late Bloomer] trait was very precious. Among the various traits related to stat growth, it was considered a high-tier trait. Although it has the downside of taking some time to reach above-average stats, it has the advantage of not acquiring the [Frail] trait as one aged, and those with the trait would almost consistently grow without much stagnation.

Right now, the sum of his three stats, strength, agility, and stamina, don’t even make him a C-rank as they don’t exceed 90, but with just a few years of proper growth, he could easily reach B-class with a stat sum of 120.

Of course, Allen couldn’t guarantee how long he would keep him, but still, making a small investment for the future wasn’t a bad idea.

“Take a seat.”

“Yes.”

The man was bald, with not a single hair on his head, and had an inexplicable pattern drawn on it. Instead of hair, he had a bushy beard. His eyes were fierce, as befitted a mercenary, and he had a high nose bridge and striking thick lips.

The two men knew each other. They had seen each other around for ten days on the Romelon Plateau. However, they had never spoken before.

“I’m Viktor Melson. Nice to meet you.”

“Allen Dewise Pomwell the First.”

As soon as the introductions were over, Allen began the conversation with a light rub of his palms.

“Now that I’ve reached an agreement with your group leader, we’ll negotiate the salary. …Well, you’re not opposed to transferring, are you?”

Then, Viktor placed his hand lightly on the table with a faint smile. There were numerous minor scars on his exposed arms and the back of his hand.

“I should go where I’m needed. Staying by force does no good for either party.”

“That’s an admirable attitude.”

“May I ask you a question, though?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why me, specifically? …Honestly, there are better colleagues than me.”

A smile gradually spread across Allen’s lips. There was a strange, compelling power in it.

“You might not know, but my ancestor was the leader of a merchant group. The blood of a merchant group leader flows in me, too. Do you know what that means?”

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t invest in things that have no potential.”

He leaned his chin on the back of his hands, which were placed on the table. Then, he took a brief breath and continued speaking.

“It’s because I saw investment value in you. …Is that a sufficient answer?”

It wasn’t entirely clear, but Viktor got the gist of it.

“…Yes.”

“Good. Then, let’s get started. …How much do you want?”

Group Leader Allen took the advantageous position in the negotiation first.

“I’m currently receiving 11 gold coins. I’m not asking for much. I’ll take just 13.”

13?

For Allen, it was slightly unexpected. With the [Greed] trait, he had thought the demand would be at least 15, but to think that he would directly go for the bottom line of 13.

He contemplated cutting just one more gold coin, then decided against it. It wasn’t a short-term contract but a long-term one, and who knew how long they would have to face each other in the future; it wasn’t worth reddening faces over a mere gold coin. Moreover, his relationship with Viktor could last much longer than expected….

“Agreed. Let’s make the contract.”

“Thank you.”

And so, the two agreed on 13 gold coins per month for a duration of 2 years.

With this, Viktor Melson transferred to the Allen-Mercenary Group.

It was a monumental first transfer.

Count Herera stood by a window, puffing on a cigar. He was deeply troubled at the moment.

He had heard the shocking announcement, but the will of his daughter, who had bravely decided to overcome her shortcomings, certainly deserved applause. Indeed, a lion’s cub couldn’t possibly be a kitten.

…However, the problem came afterward.

• I’ve decided to leave, Father. To go out into the world, to gain experience and return.

As a father, it was right to support such a resolve in his daughter, but he couldn’t help but worry. The world was harsh—! Especially for a woman, it was never easy to overcome the rough torrents of that world.

• I’ve decided to work together with Group Leader Allen. I’ve watched him closely. I can trust that man. He’s a group leader worth emulating.

The name that came up again was Allen, the leader of a group of mercenaries. How great must this man be for both his daughter and the captain to never tire of praising him?

‘…I can see that he’s no ordinary man…’

Certainly, he was a man who could stand firm even in front of him, with the guts and courage to do so. But that alone wasn’t enough to judge everything. After all, the Count had not yet experienced him up close.

However, the situation had already reached a point of no return. He had no choice but to trust and leave it to his daughter’s judgment.

He quickly extinguished the burning cigarette butt in the crystal ashtray, feeling the prickling sensation on his finger. As he was about to light another cigarette, someone knocked on the door.

“- Father, it’s me.”

‘Ahㅡ.’

It was his daughter, Elena. The Count put down the cigarette he was holding and adopted a stern look.

“Come in.”

As permission was given, the door creaked open, and Elena, dressed in casual outing clothes, entered the office and politely greeted her father.

“…So, you’re leaving now?”

“Yes, Father.”

“As I’ve said before, I respect your decision. Therefore, you must think carefully and then make your decision. Understand?”

“I will bear it in mind.”

“Yes, you’re a wise child, so I believe you’ll do well. …Well, is there anything you need? If you want, I can assign someone to accompany you.”

“No. I will go alone. It’s something I must do myself.”

‘…You’ve really grown up. Suddenly grown so much.’

The Count felt a strange emotion. It was like the baby bird that had been in his arms had suddenly grown up and flown away.

This wasn’t the picture he had wished for, but it seemed the embrace of Herera was too narrow for his daughter. …If leaving was the natural course, then so be it.

“Then, until we meet again, take care, Father.”

“…Alright. You too, take care. And send letters occasionally.”

“Yes.”

Elena bowed deeply one last time and then left the office.

“Hooo.” The Count deeply exhaled the breath that had been building in his chest.

After being immersed in the aftermath for a moment, the Count called for the old butler.

“Did you call for me, Master?”

“Send a suitable gift to the Baron of Pomwell in the southern region. Something like a vase or an ornamental object.”

“What should we convey?”

“Hmm—.” The Count stroked his chin with his hand.

“…Let’s maintain a close relationship from now on.”

“Understood.”

After the butler left, the Count went back to the window.

‘…I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s the last thing I can do for you, my daughter.’

Sorrow flowed through the Count’s heart, yet the sky was so clear and bright.

As if it were the perfect day to leave.