Chapter 1

A mercenary who doesn’t die is third-rate. The reason they’re paid so much is because they exist to die instead of the nobles and the commoners.

The nobles used to joke like that about mercenaries.

It was only natural that every time they said such nonsense, the mercenaries would be outraged.

When there was danger, they acted as if they were going to give them land and titles, but as soon as the war ended they spoke that way.

Inevitably, the more experience mercenaries accumulated, the stronger their distrust and aversion toward the nobles became.

Being hired multiple times by nobles also meant that they had seen many unpleasant things.

Jake, the leader of the mercenary group, was one of them.

‘Seriously, the excuses never ended.’

The damage to the enemy was too low, since they hadn’t killed the leader they couldn’t say they had won, they had only won a skirmish and it hadn’t changed the situation of the war.

All kinds of creative excuses that sometimes even made the employer’s own vassals frown.

And the funny thing was that, no matter how creative they were, they all ended the same way: “We can’t pay the promised money.”
But even Jake, who had heard countless excuses, had never heard such stupidity.

“Die for us.”

“….”

Jake blinked in amazement at what the knight in front of him said.

Did I hear wrong?

Any other noble maybe, but this wasn’t the kind of person who would blurt out such stupidity.

“Excuse me. These days I’m tired and I don’t hear well…”

“You didn’t hear wrong. Die for us.”

Damn madman.

Holding back the curse rising to his throat, Jake glared at the knight.

Has he lost his mind after so many consecutive defeats?

And to think that he had already done more than enough to leave, and now suddenly they were asking him to die.

“Sir, do you know what my profession is?”

“You are a mercenary.”

“I see that you’re clear about that. For a moment I thought you had confused me with a knight.”

“I wish you were a knight.”

If you were, I could ask you without remorse.

The knight sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them again.

Weariness and self-loathing filled his gaze, things that hadn’t been there before.

“Forgive me. It seems I spoke roughly. I may have caused a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?”

“The truth is that I wanted to ask you to defend the position. But since the situation is so desperate, the words slipped out.”

In short, it was a mission so dangerous that even his conscience weighed on him and he had grown sentimental.

What a way to scare someone.

“Don’t worry. It’s understandable.”

Jake hid his true thoughts and showed a professional smile.

After all, the other man was the employer’s right-hand man.

Showing annoyance could cause problems with the final payment.

Besides, unpleasant as it sounded, that tone came from someone who, within reason, had consideration for mercenaries.

Up to now he had assigned missions within what was reasonable, so no matter how dangerous it was, he wouldn’t cross that line.

“The mission is simple. Tomorrow the rebels will launch a total attack. While my lord gets to safety, stay with me and stop the enemy.”

“…Excuse me?”

“If possible, for as long as you can. At least until I die. I will give you the final payment with this when you retire.”

The knight took something out from his chest and dropped it in front of him.

A red stone the size of an adult man’s fist.

From its shine, it was undoubtedly the “Prince’s Tear,” extracted only in the mines of the far south.

A size like that would be enough to pay for more than three years of hiring the mercenary group.

But Jake frowned without even looking at it.

“Sir, did you perhaps eat something that had gone bad yesterday?”

“I am perfectly fine.”

“A madman never admits that he’s mad.”

“Watch your words. If you cross the line, even if it’s you…”

“The one who crossed the line was you. Do you want to drag us to die with you? Do I look like an idiot to you?”

In theory it sounds beautiful.

Knights who, on a lost battlefield, sacrifice their lives to give their lord time to escape.

And mercenaries who, after fighting to a certain point, are rewarded and sent back.

A naïve rookie might have believed it.

But unfortunately, Jake was a mercenary far too seasoned.

“You are the commander-in-chief. And you say they’ll only let me go when you die? When you’re about to be annihilated? Nonsense! Do you think the enemy will just let us go like that?”

“Since you’re not knights but mercenaries, they won’t pursue you that much…”

“We are mercenaries who have caused them enormous damage! For the enemy, there will be no rest until they grind our bones!”

A mercenary has no reason to keep fighting once he is no longer being paid.

That’s why when the employer dies, the mercenaries usually flee, and the enemy doesn’t pursue them excessively.

If they foolishly pursued them and the mercenaries fought desperately, it would only be needless loss.

But that only applies when there is no accumulated hatred.

“Do you know how much I’ve wrecked their ranks so far? The common soldiers convulse just from hearing my name. Do you think they’ll let us go?”

Even a hired mercenary ceases to be irrelevant when the enemy wants his head.

And Jake had cornered the enemy command more than once.

Of course they would chase him to kill him, no matter what.

Even if they fled now, they would send troops after them. And he expected him to wait in the middle of the open field?

“They plan to use us as sacrifice.”

“…”

“They want to buy time for their lord to escape and force us to participate? Magnificent. So honorable it almost makes me want to bow.”

Before the biting sarcasm, the knight pressed his lips together.

It seemed he still had at least some shame.

But it was also obvious he had no intention of letting Jake go.

“If you don’t accept, I’ll take command. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to accompany me to the end.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll have to use this.”

Clang.

The knight partially drew his sword.

A clear threat: if necessary, he would kill him and lead the mercenaries himself.

Jake clicked his tongue at such stupidity.

The subordinates wouldn’t obey anyone but him, so it was useless.

But the knight had already decided to accept the dishonor.

Even if Jake explained, he wouldn’t listen. And even if he believed, he would end up imposing it by force.

“Damn bastard.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. On the contrary, thank you for making me feel less guilty.”

“What?”

“Since things are already like this, at least I’ll take your head with me. It’s already too late to escape, so I’ll do what I can.”

The knight’s expression twisted.

Guilt disappeared, leaving only contempt.

“And I thought wrong of you.”

“How did you judge me?”

“I thought that, for a mercenary, you were someone with honor. More knightly than many knights. But in the end, you were just a simple mercenary.”

“Wow. And who are you to talk?”

“No one. But this makes me feel more at ease. If we’re the same trash, I have no reason to hold back.”

Jake let out a hollow laugh.

It seemed the knight thought it was all just to save his own life.

Jake smiled mockingly.

“It seems you’re mistaken about one thing. I have no intention of surviving.”

“What did you say?”

“Whether I accept or reject your proposal, I’m going to die anyway. The problem is that my men would die with me. So at least I want to save them.”

“The enemy’s pursuit…”

“If we present your head and mine together, it might work. In the end, the ones who generate resentment aren’t the soldiers but the commanders.”

The knight’s eyes opened wide.

After a slight tremor in his eyelids, he let out an empty laugh.

“Ha… haha. You want to die to save your subordinates?”

“They’re men I brought in promising them a future. If I failed, the responsibility is mine. Isn’t that obvious?”

“The obvious… yes, it is.”

Shiing.

The knight’s sword came completely out of its sheath.

A fluid movement, like water.

Jake drew his a moment later, but bitterness filled his mouth.

‘He leaves no opening, damn it. How many levels above me is this guy?’

Jake knew some tricks to make up for the difference in skill, but none seemed to work against that knight.

It wasn’t that he was mediocre among mercenaries—he was feared.

But before this knight, famous even among the great warlords, he was insufficient.

He might die here before even offering his head to the enemy.

Well, it wasn’t a bad death either.

At least his men, upon learning that Jake had died, would abandon the battlefield immediately.

“I wish you had been my lord.”

Unlike tense Jake, the knight’s voice sounded melancholy.

His lord, of noble blood, had abandoned his vassals to flee; Jake, of vulgar origin, was the opposite.

A noble of blood and a mercenary of humble origins.

But if they ignored blood, which of the two had the mettle to be a true king?

Holding back another sigh, the knight spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

“Eat this.”

Splat.

At the same time as he replied, Jake hurled his sword with all his strength.

And with a flash, he felt something warm gush from his neck.

He didn’t see when the knight completely unsheathed nor when he attacked.

Only from the strange sensation and from seeing the knight’s sword on the other side did he know he had been cut.

He had expected it, but the swiftness of the outcome left a bitter taste.

‘Damn it.’

Although Jake had made his move, the knight, who had never doubted his victory for an instant, still wore a calm expression.

There wasn’t the slightest trace of tension, and Jake couldn’t help letting out a bitter laugh.

‘So that’s talent…’

With that final thought, Jake’s vision went dark.

***

“…Young master! Young master!”

Jake woke up suddenly feeling a strong dizziness.

Someone was shouting in his ear while shaking his body.

‘…What the hell? Am I alive?’

Impossible.

He remembered with perfect clarity the sensation of the sword piercing his neck.

Not even a legendary saint performing miracles could save him in such a state.
So was this a dream?

“Young master! Oh, young master!”

But for a dream, everything felt far too real.

The voice echoing in his ears made his skull vibrate, and every time they shook him,
he felt like throwing up.

He wanted to shout for them to stop, but before he could, the other person raised their hand.

“Please wake up! If you leave like this, I’ll die too!”

Smack, smack, smack!

Damn lunatic, stop hitting me!

The hand was small, but each slap made his head tremble.

When his cheeks were so red they felt like they were burning, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and shouted.

“Stop… I said stop…!”

“Yo– Young master! You’ve regained consciousness!?”

With his vision still blurry, Jake focused on the figure in front of him.

Looking closely, it was a boy with a soft voice and small frame.

Just as Jake was about to complain about the stinging pain in his cheeks, the boy burst into tears and cried out.

“You’re safe, young lord! I thought you were going to leave us just like that!”

What? Young master?

Jake blinked, confused.

It was the first time in his life someone had used that title with him.

No matter how well a mercenary was treated, at most they’d be called a “quasi-knight.”

And now they were treating him like the son of a noble family?

“What nonsense are you spouting after slapping me like you were trying to kill me…?”

Jake was rubbing his swollen cheeks when his body suddenly froze.

The palm of his hand was too soft.

Just a moment ago, it had been full of hardened calluses.

With his original hand, he would never have felt something like this.

When Jake, curious, looked at his own palm—

“…What the hell is this now?”