Report
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismal]
[Proofreader - Max]
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Chapter 40: Rewards of the Wager (1)
"...Is he alive?"
Benjamin asked, feeling uneasy.
He had seen all sorts of things while traveling with the trading company and rarely blinked an eye, but this time was an exception.
Whoosh!
Azure flames cauterized the bleeding wounds and mended the broken bones.
Hamel was reviving the Fox, whose body was mangled and horrific, half crushed.
"Ah... yes. For now, he is."
Hamel replied, nodding drowsily as if exhausted.
The Laughing Fox, who would have died if left alone, was gradually recovering.
Just in case, his hands and feet were tightly bound.
Watching this, the reality of the situation finally sank in.
The battle was over.
And the result was something no one had expected.
'He actually won.'
Benjamin ran a hand through his disheveled gray hair and let out a hollow laugh.
He had thought it would be a miracle if even one of them survived.
But Hamel had shattered his expectations.
He had overwhelmingly defeated his opponent.
'He exceeds any expectations, no matter what I imagine.'
His character, values, and even his abilities.
He was more unique and outstanding than any leader Benjamin had ever seen.
'...I'm envious.'
The ambition he thought had faded with age suddenly stirred within him.
He had become one of the leaders of the Lawrence Trading Company and thought he had achieved his dream.
But watching Hamel, different thoughts kept popping into his head.
What if he formed a trading company under Hamel, under the name of the territory?
It was every merchant's dream to one day build their own company and become its leader.
'It's still a bit early, but... I'll have to give it some thought.'
While Benjamin muttered to himself, adjusting his monocle, Arandel was talking to Tarkasi on the side.
"You're alive, Lord Tarkasi."
[Indeed. As long as you serve me, I will not perish. That is the nature of a god.]
Gods were powerful.
And they were immortal and indestructible.
That was probably the biggest difference between them and mortal humans.
However, even they could lose their power and existence, fading and disappearing.
That happened when there was no one to remember and serve them.
Of course, it was different for the gods who had existed since the beginning, before humans.
But even they gained stronger divine power through the praise and faith of humans.
As Arandel was expressing his relief, Tarkasi suddenly spoke in a stern tone.
[Leave this place, Arandel.]
"Excuse me? What do you mean? How can we leave this forest...?"
[As the priest of Ehurshica said, the forest is dangerous now.]
Arandel hesitated.
It wasn't that he didn't know.
This incident alone was a blatant provocation by the lord of Sorn.
When he had confirmed Tarkasi's death, he was even prepared for war.
But now that the survival of the god he served was confirmed, Arandel was at a loss for what to do.
"What will become of you if we leave?"
[You are also a part of this forest. If you can settle elsewhere, like transplanting a tree, I will also be fine, so do not worry.]
Tarkasi comforted Arandel in a calm tone.
Arandel nodded after a moment of contemplation.
"I will follow your will, my god."
[Chuckle. You've made a wise decision.]
Tarkasi's satisfied growl gradually faded away.
[My gathered divine power is waning. Take the sapling in the clearing and plant it in the new forest. When the sapling takes root in that land, and enough time has passed, I will return.]
"Yes, I will do so."
Hearing Arandel's answer, Tarkasi chuckled and muttered softly,
[I like your decisive answer. You have suffered... greatly...]
With that, Tarkasi's voice was no longer heard.
After a moment of silence, Arandel declared in a firm voice,
"...I will wait for you, no matter how long it takes."
Then, a wind blew from somewhere, and the forest hummed and rustled.
It sounded like the god's answer, saying he would look forward to it, and Arandel let out a hearty laugh.
"So, have you made up your mind?"
"Yes, I have."
Arandel turned to Hamel, who had been listening quietly to their conversation.
Then he walked over to Hamel and knelt.
"I, Arandel, guardian of the Rosel Forest and chieftain of the Blue Mane Tribe, have a request for Hamel Saint Gilmore, lord of Heidern and head of the Gilmore clan."
Hearing this, Hamel adjusted his posture and nodded.
"Speak."
"Give me and my tribe the opportunity to serve you. If you protect and care for us, we will pledge our lives to your service."
Hamel wasn't bound by formalities.
He simply approached Arandel, who was bowing his head, and grasped his hand.
"Yes. The contract is established here and now."
At those simple but sincere words, Arandel felt a surge of emotion.
Today, when even the promise with the first emperor had been forgotten and faded,
He didn't believe that the promise with Hamel would last forever.
But nothing in the world was perfect.
He would simply trust himself and follow his instincts.
Just then, a rusty, grating laughter came from the side.
"Heh, kuh, heh. Do you think you can escape from here?"
Hamel and Arandel frowned and turned their heads.
There, the Laughing Fox, who had regained consciousness, was smirking.
Hamel looked at him and felt relieved.
"I'm glad. You've come to your senses."
"Why did you heal me? You're not thinking of getting a confession out of me, are you?"
"That's right."
When Hamel nodded at Fox's words, he burst into laughter.
Then he suddenly stopped laughing and glared, his forehead veins bulging.
"Do you think I'll talk? It seems you've underestimated the Pale Cord."
Benjamin, who had been listening to the conversation, added with a frown,
"He's right. Lord Hamel, it will be impossible to get a confession out of him."
"Why is that?"
"It's the rule of the Pale Cord. If they reveal the details of a request, they suffer a punishment worse than death."
The Fox, hearing the explanation, chuckled and said,
"The old gentleman knows us well. I won't open my mouth no matter what. And the lord of Sorn will find some excuse to kill you all."
The Fox laughed weakly, unconcerned about his own life.
Despite being overwhelmingly defeated by Hamel, he showed no fear.
"Hmm."
Hamel let out a small groan and then said,
"Benjamin, I've received several offers to transfer to the Inquisition. Do you know why?"
"...?"
"Because my ability... was useful for extracting confessions."
Hamel walked towards the Fox with a tired but calm expression.
"I hope you'll end this quickly."
"Haha, are you thinking of skinning me alive? You, a softy like you?"
The Fox still wore a relaxed smile.
Hamel didn't answer.
***
"My lord, it's a disaster!"
"What's the commotion?"
Viscount Ramsey of Sorn, who had been tearing into meat until just now, wiped his greasy hands and asked.
The steward hurriedly poured out the news.
"Baron Hamel, who went to the Rosel Forest, is returning!"
"What? But what is the Laughing Fox of Maron doing..."
"That's not all. The Lawrence Trading Company and the entire Blue Mane Tribe are heading towards Sorn!"
"What?!"
The viscount slammed his hand on the desk and jumped to his feet.
He couldn't comprehend the completely unexpected situation.
Why was Hamel alive?
What had happened to the Laughing Fox of Maron?
Why was the Blue Mane Tribe coming with them?
He couldn't understand.
But Viscount Ramsey soon calmed down and organized his thoughts.
"Steward, summon the army."
"...Excuse me?"
"I don't know what happened, but things have gone wrong. At this point, there's no choice but to overturn the game."
In any case, they were heading towards his territory armed.
The most realistic solution was to frame them and eliminate them.
Of course, there would be suspicions if he massacred them based on circumstantial evidence alone.
But what did it matter?
Dead men tell no tales.
The steward left to summon the army, and the viscount put on his armor.
Although not perfect, the military power of the territory was quite formidable.
Since he had been preparing for war, the number of his private soldiers was large, and the quality of the conscripted soldiers was also decent.
Above all, the quality of their equipment was exceptional.
Even the conscripted soldiers were supplied with helmets, armor, and sturdy, unbending spears.
The viscount thought that this was comparable to the regular army of the Imperial family.
"Well then, shall we go?"
Just as the viscount grinned and opened the door,
"Ah, Viscount Ramsey."
"...Sir Conrad?"
Conrad, the mediator dispatched from the Imperial family, was standing in front of the viscount's room as if he had been waiting.
The viscount asked with a frown,
"What brings you here?"
"It seems something has come up. Would it be alright if I joined you?"
"It's not something you should concern yourself with..."
"How can I not be concerned when it involves Baron Hamel and Viscount Ramsey?"
At Conrad's words, Viscount Ramsey's expression hardened for a moment.
'Damn it. How much does he know?'
Even for him, it was burdensome to lay a hand on someone dispatched from the Imperial family.
Of course, if necessary, he would have to silence him, even if it meant killing him...
After a moment of contemplation, Ramsey nodded and said,
"Now that I think about it, you're right. It seems Baron Hamel broke his promise and joined forces with criminals."
"Is that so? That's a serious matter."
Conrad nodded with a grave expression.
Only then did the viscount relax his expression and put his hand on Conrad's shoulder, saying,
"Let's go together. It's reassuring to have you with us."
"It's an honor."
The viscount stepped out into the courtyard of the castle.
Hundreds of his soldiers were already lined up, ready for battle.
The flag symbolizing his family fluttered in the wind.
Seeing them, his heart calmed down.
The viscount couldn't imagine losing.
***
The gates of Sorn were firmly closed.
Archers lined the walls, and cavalry and infantry filled the area in front of the gate.
Viscount Ramsey himself stood at the forefront, along with standard-bearers waving his family's flag.
After some time,
A procession appeared along the eastern road connected to the Rosel Forest.
Dozens of carriages and hundreds of people.
There seemed to be less than fifty armed personnel, but it didn't matter.
Once they were chopped into pieces, who would know if they were civilians or armed rebels?
Viscount Ramsey slowly urged his horse forward with the standard-bearers.
Conrad also silently followed behind Ramsey.
A familiar face came into view at the front of the procession.
Hamel Gilmore.
The lord of Heidern and the foolish priest of the church.
Viscount Ramsey wanted to start this war quickly, so he shouted without any preamble,
"What is the meaning of this!"
"It's been a while, my lord."
"Cut the greetings! Answer me, what is your intention in leading those invaders here!"
Ramsey shouted, already considering Hamel and his forces as invaders.
It didn't matter whether he denied it or not.
Some of the mercenaries he had hired through the steward would soon start shooting arrows at them.
Then any further conversation would be pointless.
He would just have to wipe them out.
"...?"
But why wasn't it happening?
The arrows weren't coming.
The lord gestured to the steward, but the steward just shook his head with a bewildered expression.
It was then that Hamel spoke.
"Are you referring to these people as invaders?"
As he spoke, fifteen men were dragged out, bound together.
Armed with bows and spears, they were clumsily dressed in rags and branches, imitating the attire of the Blue Mane Tribe.
"...!"
The steward's face turned pale as he recognized their faces.
Viscount Ramsey immediately grasped the situation.
'I've been had.'
The mercenaries he had hired had been captured.
As the viscount was in a state of confusion, Hamel continued,
"Since these men were hiding while armed on the road, the chieftain of the Blue Mane Tribe, Arandel, personally captured them."
The old man, introduced by Hamel, slowly bowed his head.
"..."
That old man captured dozens of mercenaries?
No, that wasn't important right now.
The viscount barely managed to collect himself and roared with a frown,
"I don't know who those people are, but I'm talking about the armed forces behind you, the ones you command."
"Ah, are you referring to the Blue Mane Tribe?"
Hamel nodded and replied,
"If that's the case, you don't have to worry. The tribe and I are simply here for rightful revenge."
"...Revenge?"
"Yes. The client who placed the order to assassinate us is right here."
Hamel calmly drew his sword and pointed it at the viscount.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Peptobismal]
[Proofreader - Max]
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