41

Screech

With a cold metallic sound, a drawn sword pointed at the viscount.

A short but heavy silence settled over the surroundings.

At that moment, when no one could easily speak.

The viscount, bewildered, opened his mouth.

“Are you seriously doubting me now? You must be thoroughly mad. Do you have any evidence?”

Although unexpected, the situation only intensified the atmosphere.

A taut tension rose among both sides, and nerves were visibly frayed.

It was all because Hamel had drawn his sword.

Hamel, with an unreadable expression, asked back as if oblivious to that fact.

“Evidence, you ak?”

“Yes. You wouldn’t accuse me without evidence, would you? You don’t expect me to let such an insult pass, do you?”

The viscount brimmed with confidence.

He had reason: there were no traces of any commission left.

The target he had commissioned was the Pale Rope.

Why Hamel was still alive, he didn’t know, but there was no way that ‘Maron’s Smiling Fox’ of theirs would be caught.

Even if, by some chance, one were captured, they would rather be torn apart than betray secrets.

But the world rarely goes as expected.

“I doubt that.”

Hamel shook his head and turned his gaze to Benjamin of the Lawrence Trading Company.

Benjamin bowed politely and then dragged someone forward.

A man in rags, bound in chains, appeared.

This time the commander’s face went beyond white to ashen pale.

‘No way. But…?’

The viscount’s thoughts froze.

Even so, Hamel did not stop acting.

Hamel approached the captured man and spoke.

“Now. Speak.”

“Auuuu…”

The man couldn’t keep his eyes still and writhed anxiously.

Hamel leaned in and whispered quietly to the hesitant man.

“Hurry. Or would you prefer to come with me to the lord’s domain?”

“Ah.”

The man’s pupils dilated widely.

At the same time, his breeches began to wet.

Shuddering as if struck by lightning, he shook his head violently and shouted.

“No, no! I’ll tell you! So please…”

“…”

Others frowned at the pitiful sight.

But the commander and the viscount could only gape, unable to believe the situation.

Wasn’t the man a member of that famed assassin group—the Pale Rope—known as ‘Maron’s Smiling Fox’?

‘What on earth happened…?’

He did not look like he had been subjected to extreme torture.

Yet his terrified face made him look decades older and utterly miserable.

Something was gravely wrong.

Starting with the mercenaries.

Even the assassin.

Every card they had prepared was being thoroughly countered by Hamel.

Just as the viscount swallowed dryly, it happened.

“Who are you?”

“I—I’m a member of the Pale Rope. I’m Maron’s Smiling Fox.”

“…!”

The moment the Fox answered Hamel’s question, everyone was stunned.

Even Conrad, seemingly unprepared, could not close his mouth.

Hamel continued his questioning.

“Then who commissioned the job?”

The Fox raised a trembling hand and pointed at someone.

All eyes turned toward him.

“Oh, no…”

The viscount’s commander.

He stammered in panic under the scrutiny of everyone.

He had been shaking with fear for some time, sweat pouring down like rain.

Conrad, who had been watching him silently, stepped forward and asked.

“Viscount Ramsey. It seems an explanation is needed. Were you aware of this?”

“No. How could that be? I had no knowledge of it.”

The viscount shook his head without hesitation.

The commander, realizing he’d been abandoned, opened his eyes wide.

“M-My lord! I…!”

“Shut up!”

As the commander tried to speak, the viscount shouted like lightning and swung his hammer.

Crack

With the sound of crushing, yellowish brain and blood splattered everywhere.

A dislodged eyeball rolled off toward the horse Hamel rode.

“…”

A brief silence passed as the viscount lowered his hammer and gave a servile laugh.

“Baron Hamel. I’m sorry. I failed to manage my men. I truly did not know. I apologize.”

Hamel silently watched the lord.

Only then did the lord realize what Hamel wanted and hurriedly added more.

“Of course, words alone won’t do. I will forgive all the debts your family carries. Consider yourself pardoned.”

“Very well. Let’s do that.”

Hamel nodded obediently.

The viscount broke into a bright smile.

“Really? Thank you for understanding. Now I see a manly side to you…”

“However.”

“…?”

Hamel cut him off.

He then turned his gaze to the Blue Mane clan behind them and continued.

“Compensation for the Blue Mane clan is separate.”

“…The clan?”

“Yes. Because of that commander’s commission, they lost the lands they’ve lived on for centuries and the deity they served. They must leave their homeland and settle elsewhere, so under imperial law they deserve compensation.”

At Hamel’s words, Viscount Ramsey ground his teeth.

Some sacrifice was required to wash his hands of any association with the commander.

Viscount Ramsey smiled awkwardly and nodded.

“Very well. Then three ten-thousand marks—thirty thousand marks—should suffice?”

“No.”

Hamel shook his head and answered calmly.

“You should pay three hundred thousand marks.”

“That’s ridiculous…!”

“The lineage of a clan as old as the Empire nearly came to an end. It’s hard to call this excessive.”

Conrad, who had been listening silently, nodded as well.

“I don’t find it unreasonable either.”

“But three hundred thousand marks is three times my annual domain income!”

“Values like these are hard to quantify. If needed, I’ll call a priest to oversee a trial.”

At Conrad’s answer, the viscount faltered.

“A trial… surely you don’t mean…”

At the viscount’s mumbled words, Conrad nodded as if it were obvious.

“A trial by combat. If Viscount Ramsey’s claim is right, then Batu, the god of duels, will raise that hand in victory.”

Viscount Ramsey turned his creaking head to look at Hamel.

Hamel leisurely nodded as if he had expected it.

That composure made the viscount’s head go white as if struck by a hammer.

The viscount remembered that Hamel had even defeated a member of the Pale Rope.

‘I was mistaken from the start.’

He had thought Hamel was just a lucky novice priest from the order who would become the next lord.

A young priest who at best could kill monsters, he thought.

But he was wrong.

“I accept.”

Hamel nodded with the same expressionless face as always.

That impassive look felt unbearably terrifying.

From where had everything been playing in his hands?

Before the viscount’s eyes, he was no longer a lucky novice.

No he didn’t even seem like a human from the start.

Having his last shred of pride broken, he nodded weakly.

“…Very well. I will pay three hundred thousand marks in compensation. But I have no money now. Grant me five years.”

“I’ll give you one year.”

At Hamel’s words, the viscount opened his mouth as if to protest, then weakly nodded.

His expression looked hollow, as if he’d given up everything.

“Travel safely.”

“May you remain unharmed until we meet again.”

Hamel and his party, having exchanged farewells with Conrad, set off for the domain.

They had gained everything they sought.

Food supplies.

People.

Even power.

‘The dragonian technique…’

The dragonian training method passed down by Tarka.

Thanks to it, Hamel was able to learn dragonian techniques.

It was a simple but effective method of the dragonian who worshipped the earth dragon Deoriasia.

A technique that borrows Deoriasia’s power to upheave the earth.

For now its radius was only a few dozen meters at best, but with power comparable to a true dragon it could even trigger earthquakes.

Of course, its use had major limitations.

In its current state it was impractical; he would at least need to borrow the dragon’s blood.

‘The problem is that that’s difficult.’

Hamel murmured softly.

It was fine for now, but the madness of dragon’s blood could return anytime, so he couldn’t overuse it.

Above all, the dragon’s blood he had taken from the mansion now amounted to only two vials.

“I must find a way.”

Hamel muttered softly and shook his head to dispel worry.

This wasn’t an issue that would be solved by worrying right now.

Hamel did what he could immediately.

“Benjamin.”

Hamel rode up to the trading company’s carriage and called to him quietly.

Benjamin opened the carriage window and stuck his head out.

“What is it?”

“I have a request.”

Benjamin nodded without hesitation at Hamel’s words.

Partly out of gratitude for past favors, he intended to help without bargaining.

But what Hamel said next was completely unexpected.

“Once you reach your domain, sell us the food supplies and then head back to Sorn.”

“Why Sorn…?”

“Because we need to purchase weaponry.”

“…!”

Benjamin widened his eyes and clicked his tongue.

He realized what Hamel intended.

Viscount Ramsey would begin selling the arms and armor he’d prepared to pay his debts.

But nearby there were no proper markets to absorb such quantities.

Ultimately the weapons would be worth nothing, and Hamel planned to buy them up.

It was a chance to acquire weapons cheaply and build up the domain’s soldiers.

“Did you really set the one-year deadline with that in mind?”

“I was in danger of my life; I deserve compensation.”

Hamel said impassively and added further.

“Since the domain lacks cash, I’ll provide salt instead. Leave the details to us.”

“I believe we can secure a large profit margin.”

With the proceeds from selling food to him and the salt combined, they could purchase a considerable amount of weaponry.

It would likely more than cover the losses incurred in the Sorn domain.

“Thank you for the opportunity. Separate from the amount entrusted to me, thirty percent of the profit I earn will belong to the lord.”

At Benjamin’s courteous offer, Hamel hesitated briefly.

As if the offer were too burdensome.

But he soon nodded slowly.

“I won’t refuse. There’ll be much money going into the domain.”

“No. No. It’s nothing. Haha.”

Benjamin found Hamel amusing in that way.

He quietly polished his monocle, imagining his position next year.

He didn’t much fancy remaining as head of the Lawrence Company.

“Mr. Hamel… there’s something I’d like to say.”

“Speak.”

“I’ve had a dream I’ve cherished for a long time.”

“A dream?”

Benjamin spoke with a passion unbecoming of his age.

Hamel listened calmly to his proposal and pondered briefly.

But it did not take long to decide.

Hamel nodded and extended his hand to the new contractual partner.

“I look forward to working with you, Trading company head.”

It was the moment a trading company belonging to Haidern was born.