Chapter 112 – Orland
Orland's inn.
There was not a single house nearby, only trees in abundance. With darkness, snow had fallen upon the forest, and it was utterly quiet.
In contrast, the inside of the inn was full of noise.
A man with a hooked nose widened his eyes.
"Hey, Orland! How much was it for that mage's head?!"
"They said 800 million Elk if captured alive, 300 million Elk if dead."
"800 million!"
At the staggering amount, Gray's mercenaries' eyes gleamed.
"They said he wiped out Bajes's mercenary corps, right? Wasn't he called a 4th-tier lightning mage?"
"I heard he's damn young, maybe from the Magic Tower. Anyway, if the Union's offering that much, it's because they want to pull him into their fold."
"Heh, a stuck-up brat from the Magic Tower won't be any trouble. If we cut his ankles while he's hiding among people, he'll flop down crying."
A dozen men chatted noisily.
They had gathered here after hearing from Orland that there was a jackpot request, and not one of them thought twice about blood on their hands.
Then, someone spoke.
"So, who's going to take the request?"
The inn instantly went silent.
They glanced at one another, then some began radiating killing intent. With such a simple and straightforward request carrying a reward of 800 million, there was no way anyone would give up easily.
This was the time for the information broker to step in.
Finding the most suitable person for the request was Orland's role. He cleared his throat, about to mediate.
Bang!
The silence shattered.
Everyone's gaze turned naturally to the entrance of the inn.
A man, draped in a light-green robe pulled up over his head and holding a staff, stood there. He walked forward, approaching Orland.
Then he sat down at the counter, pulling back his hood.
Gray hair.
Clear blue eyes.
An extraordinary appearance.
Orland recognized who he was in an instant.
His eyes widened, then he smiled.
"...An uninvited guest has arrived."
"Are you Orland?"
"That's right, I'm Orland. And you must be the mage, Asher."
Asher.
The mercenaries reacted to that name. Their 800 million prey had come walking into their den. Some licked their lips, their hands slipping toward their weapons.
Since Verden didn't react, Orland stroked his chin and spoke.
"For you to come here of your own accord at this moment... yes, it must mean Bartol sided with Perne. Through the captured messenger, you must have learned that I'm working under the Union. In other words, Perne must have decided to stand fully against the Union. And you're here to take me, to squeeze out information about the Union?"
As expected of an information broker, his grasp of the situation was quick.
"And if so?"
"Hahaha, splendid, simply splendid. Didn't Perne tell you what this place was? Hah, this is like a deer running into a pack of wolves."
A deer and wolves.
Perhaps a fitting metaphor, if only the roles weren't reversed.
Verden turned his body.
The mercenaries Orland had gathered from Gray were glaring at him. To take Orland away with ease, he would have to deal with them.
So thoroughly that they couldn't even attempt a pursuit.
But Verden was not without mercy.
These men had not yet accepted Orland's request. So, he would give them one chance.
Verden declared.
"Those who leave, I will not kill."
***
At the sudden threat, silence fell.
Moments later, someone burst out laughing. One by one the laughter spread, until soon the entire inn was filled with uproarious laughter.
"Bwahahaha! What the hell did that bastard just say? He won't kill those who leave? Is he insane?"
"Hey friend! Looks like your head's gone completely mad! Want me to call a priest for you?"
"Kekeke, it's been a while since I've heard something so ridiculous."
Most of the men in the inn ridiculed Verden.
Of course. Their numbers alone, each one of them had survived years in the Kingdom of Gray, masters of killing. Not the kind of men to be underestimated.
To annihilate all of them would require calling in a noble family's elite knight order for a surprise attack. And even then, the knights would surely suffer considerable losses.
To try facing such a group alone.
It was absurd. Even if he handled a high attribute like lightning, there was no way a mere 4th-tier mage could do it.
Verden sat calmly, listening to their laughter.
At length, the heated uproar gradually cooled. The laughter faded, replaced with a heavy atmosphere of bloodlust.
'Dual Blades Golb' asked Orland.
"Orland, who's the request going to?"
"To whoever decisively incapacitates him, I'll give the reward. Of course, if he's killed, it'll only be 300 million."
"So, alive means 800 million. That means we can toy with him for a while before handing him over, right?"
"As long as his life and three of his limbs remain intact."
Gray's mercenaries grinned. That was agreement.
Orland gave Verden's back a fleeting glance, then turned away. Staying here, he might get caught up in the chaos.
He entered the wine storage at the back of the inn.
Srrng.
Only then did the sound of weapons being drawn echo from every corner. Gray's mercenaries exchanged wary looks, deciding who would make the first move.
They were business partners, not comrades.
Even if one succeeded in incapacitating the mage, someone else would stab him in the back and kill him under the pretense of an accident. Honor, conscience, none of that was worth 800 million Elk.
At that moment, someone stood up.
A brown-haired man, half his face hidden behind a mask. He put on a green hunter's hat and gathered his things.
"Hey, Owl, where do you think you're going?"
"I only came to see what all the fuss was about, since you were raving about some huge request. I never planned to take part in this struggle. Besides, I've already found someone else to serve. And..."
Owl glanced briefly at Verden.
"I don't have a good feeling about this. Whether it's 800 million or whatever, you can fight over it yourselves, I've got business to attend to."
Without waiting for anyone to stop him, Owl walked out of the inn.
All eyes, save Verden's, followed him. For someone with the nickname Owl, renowned in Gray as a tracker, to tuck tail and run?
"Gray Snake" Jaken spat scornfully.
"Serve someone? Hah, looks like that Owl's washed up. Making pathetic excuses and running with his tail between his legs. And the rest of you are too busy hesitating. Useless fools."
Jaken rose to his feet.
Gripping his falchion, he boldly approached Verden. That alone showed his confidence in his skill.
He pointed the tip of his blade at Verden.
"I don't know what nerve you had to barge in here, but I'll carve the lesson into your flesh myself. When you act cocky, dying hurts like hell."
Jaken cackled, licking the blade of his falchion.
With his narrow, slit eyes, he resembled a snake. Then his legs twisted unnaturally, and his body shot forward like a rubber band.
That conversation can wait until after the work is done, that was the meaning.
Conveniently, Verden thought the same.
'Of course, I've no intention of conversing with corpses.'
As Jaken moved, Verden rose from his seat.
Oculus swung.
Then a shockwave burst forth.
***
────Kwoooaaang!
A deafening explosion rang out.
The inn shook, dust falling from the ceiling. Orland sat leisurely in his chair, sipping low-proof wine.
'He could have finished it quickly, but he drags it on. Noisy.'
The opponent was just a 4th-tier mage.
At long range, spamming spells might be threatening, but here, inside the inn? The gathered experts could incapacitate him before he even finished chanting.
Dual Blades Golb.
Gray Snake Jaken.
Owl.
Brainless Dilend.
Each bore a moniker in the Kingdom of Gray.
Of course, a moniker didn't always mean strength, but it did mean notoriety, whether through skill, cruelty, or something else.
Such men were converging from all directions, and yet a mage not even thirty years old could do nothing.
Even a 5th-tier mage would have trouble gaining an edge at that distance.
'If they haven't subdued him instantly, it must be because they're toying with him.'
Among them were not only skilled fighters but also men of vile temperament. Soon enough, the inn would be filled with the screams of a mage.
That was how it should have gone.
'Then why is it still so loud?'
Even after some time, the inn was still shaking.
Amid the noise, the clash of weapons and occasional screams rang out, the sound of a fierce battle.
'By now, things should have been finished....'
Just as Orland frowned,
Kwoooaaang!
The wall shattered, a body crashing at Orland's feet.
He was startled, but guessed it must be the mage they were after. That thought was shattered moments later.
"Dilend?"
Brainless Dilend's face was pale with terror.
Even from a distance, a biting chill radiated from his corpse. His stiff expression made it clear he had frozen to death.
"...No way?"
Orland's head turned.
The inn was in ruins, the cold outside wind pouring in. Amid corpses scattered about, the battle was reaching its end.
***
"Gggaaaahhhhhh!"
Jaken screamed.
Struck by
Thus ended Gray Snake Jaken.
The last survivor.
Dual Blades Golb staggered back a step.
"W–why is such a monster...."
A mage casting spells in mere seconds.
A mage whose reflexes and senses dodged blades even at his back.
A mage with inexhaustible reserves of magic power, wielding a variety of elemental spells impossible to counter.
Golb could not accept it.
With all their numbers, they hadn't dealt so much as a shallow scratch, let alone a fatal wound. He himself had barely managed to dodge the deluge of magic.
The ashen mage before him was on a different level than any mage he knew.
Golb realized.
'I provoked the wrong one.'
He had to escape, now. There was no chance of victory.
Resolved, Golb hurled his twin blades at Verden, turned, and threw himself through a gap in the inn, sprinting across the snowy field.
He was faster than a horse.
But he could not outrun magic.
Verden's Mystic Eye activated.
A pillar of ice erupted suddenly before Golb's feet. The spell struck his abdomen, knocking the breath from him as he rolled across the ground. The frigid cold tore into his organs.
As he gasped, a streak of flame shot toward him.
"Sh–shiiiitttt!"
Kwoooaaang!
The ray of fire engulfed Golb.
When the magic dissipated, nothing remained but a charred husk. The heat had seared not just his mouth but his very innards, leaving nothing recognizable of his body.
The mercenaries of Gray who had gathered to capture Verden. They perished without leaving so much as a proper dying word.
Verden furrowed his brow slightly.
'So this is all they amounted to.'
Disappointing.
Individually, they were strong enough to be called noteworthy, but as a group, they had no coordination whatsoever. He would rather have faced them one by one; they had squandered every advantage of numbers.
They blundered into each other's paths, were struck head-on by avoidable spells, even wounded their own allies with stray blows.
Pathetic.
All the more so, given the expectations.
'Well, in any case.'
Verden turned his steps sideways.
His gaze met Orland's. The startled man stumbled back, only to find the wall at his back. As Verden advanced, Orland stammered desperately.
"A misunderstanding...."
Thud!
Oculus struck Orland's temple.
Orland was no warrior.
His head swollen, he lost consciousness immediately.
'That secures the information broker, Orland.'
But he still had business here.
An information broker would surely keep documents, just like Pale or Perne.
...And so, Verden stripped the inn bare.
The building, with the corpses inside, went up in roaring flames.
***
Thud!
The unconscious Orland was dropped onto the tavern floor.
Perne and Bartol rubbed their eyes as if seeing a hallucination, then spoke.
"You really brought him back?"