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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 139

Chapter 139

The​ chief of the⁠‌ Black Hawk tribe,⁠ Otar, prepared to​‌‍ depart as soon‍​⁠ as the messenger⁠‍‍ left.

If‌​‍ there really was‍ a way to‍‍​ escape the tundra,⁠ he had to‍ see it with‍ his own eyes.​‍

Since‌​ there had been​‌ occasional exchanges with​​ the Blue Dragon⁠ tribe, the route‌ wasn’t difficult.

However,⁠‍⁠ Otar was forced​​‌ to stop at​⁠⁠ the entrance due‌​ to a reception‌‌‍ unlike the usual.​

“Please‌​‌ wait a moment.​‍‌ The king is‌ not yet ready‍‌‌ to receive guests.”⁠⁠

At‍‍ that unilateral notice,‌‌ Otar and his⁠‌ warriors frowned. This⁠‍‍ was not just​⁠⁠ any messenger—it was​​‌ a chief of‌⁠‌ another tribe who‍ had come in​ person.

And‌ yet, instead of‍‌‍ receiving them, they‍ were simply told‍ to wait until​⁠ everything was ready.⁠⁠⁠

“The​ authority of the​‍ Blue Dragon tribe​ is greater than‌ I had heard.‍ If the preparations⁠‍​ are going to‍​ take so long,​ I’d rather return‌⁠‌ to my tribe⁠​​ and rest. Is‌‌​ there a problem​‍‍ with that?”

Otar‍‍⁠ threw out that​ line full of⁠​⁠ intent at the⁠‌ warrior who had‌⁠‌ come to meet‌​ them.

It​⁠‌ was a clear‌​‌ warning—if they made​ a chief wait,‌ there would be‌‌ no negotiation. However,‍⁠‌ the warrior nodded‌​‌ without flinching.

“If⁠ that’s what you‌ wish, go ahead.”‌

“What?”‌‌‌

“If⁠ you decide to​​​ leave now, we⁠‌‌ won’t stop you.⁠ But the consequences⁠ will fall entirely‍‍ on the chief⁠⁠‍ of the Black⁠ Hawk tribe.”

“Damn…!”‍

The‌ tone, bordering on‍​​ arrogance, made one‍‍ of the warriors‌⁠⁠ reach for his⁠​ weapon.

Even⁠⁠​ in a situation‍ on the verge⁠⁠​ of explosion, the​​ opposing side remained‍ surprisingly calm.

Noticing⁠ how strange that‌ calm was, Otar⁠​‍ stopped his own​ warrior and spoke.‌⁠⁠

“Forgive‍⁠‌ me. I’m tense⁠‍⁠ and spoke out​‍‍ of turn. We’ll‍ wait, so could‍ you show us⁠ to lodging?”

“…Very​​ well.”

At​⁠​ that quick change​​⁠ in attitude, the‌‍‍ warrior from the⁠​⁠ Blue Dragon tribe‍ looked slightly surprised,‍ but guided Otar⁠​‌ without objection to​‍‌ the lodging.

It⁠⁠‍ was a place​‍‌ built with considerable​​ care, not inferior‍‌ to the chief’s‍‍ own quarters.

Once​​​ Otar settled in,⁠ the warrior left⁠ saying they would​⁠‍ be called when‍​​ the time came.‍‍

With‌‍‍ a dry thud,⁠ the lodging door‍‌‌ closed. Then, the⁠‌ warriors who had‍‌ been holding back​​‍ their anger suddenly‌ stood up.

“Chief,‍ why did you⁠ allow such disrespect?”​

“Even‍⁠‌ if it’s the⁠ Blue Dragon tribe,‍‍ this is too⁠⁠‍ much!”

“Leave​‍ it to me!​ I’ll take full‌‍⁠ responsibility and crush​‌‌ them with my‌‍⁠ axe!”

They​​ hadn’t just insulted​ a warrior—they had​‌⁠ slighted the chief⁠​‌ himself. That was‌ like belittling the​ entire tribe, so‍⁠⁠ their fury was‍ inevitable.

However,‍ instead of becoming‍​ agitated, Otar wore‍‌‌ an even calmer‌ expression.

“No.​ Let’s watch a little longer. Something’s‍⁠ off.”

“Off?‌ What besides the‍​ fact that they⁠‍ rely solely on⁠‍‌ the strength of​⁠ that guy calling​ himself king?”

“That,‌ of course, as⁠‌‌ well. But as‍ you all know,⁠⁠⁠ the power to⁠ stop the blizzard‌ is a weapon⁠⁠⁠ that can only‌​‌ be used once.⁠ After leaving this‌ tundra, that authority‌⁠ becomes worthless.”

To​ someone who’s fallen​‌ into a pit⁠ with no way‍ out, a rope‌‌‍ is priceless. But⁠ once you stand‍​‍ on solid ground,‍‍​ that rope loses⁠‌ its value.

The‌ same applied to‌ the so-called authority​⁠‌ of the Blue‍⁠⁠ Dragon chief.

No⁠⁠ matter how much‍‌ he could control​‌‌ the blizzard, once‍​​ outside the tundra,​‍ there would be⁠‌⁠ no reason to⁠‍ rely on it.​‍​

“I​ thought they were‍⁠ demanding a pledge​ of loyalty to⁠ secure a response‌ before leaving the​​ tundra. Once the‍‍ vow was made,⁠ even if the​​‍ power became useless,‌ the entire tribe⁠‌ would remain bound‌ to him.”

“So‌‌ now you think‍⁠​ that’s not the‍‍‍ case?”

“I‍⁠ don’t know.”

Even⁠ for Otar, it​‌‌ was hard to​‍ answer. There was⁠⁠‌ still the possibility⁠‍ that this was⁠‍ all just a bluff by the​ Blue Dragon tribe.‌

They‍‌​ more than anyone⁠​​ knew the threat‍ from that authority⁠⁠‌ was one-time only.​‍

But‍‌ for just a bluff, the warrior’s‌ expression had been​​ far too calm.‍‌​

‘Without​‌⁠ absolute faith that​‍ everything will go‌ according to the​​‍ king’s will, they​‍‌ couldn’t display such⁠‍‌ composure.’

Was‍ there something more⁠⁠⁠ beyond that authority?​ After thinking for​​⁠ a while, Otar‍‌‍ sighed and said,⁠​

“For​ now, let’s watch.​ In time, we’ll⁠⁠⁠ see what they’re‌​‍ relying on to‍ act this way.”‌‍

If​​‌ what they were‌ relying on turned⁠ out to be⁠ nothing significant, then⁠​‍ the Black Hawk⁠⁠‍ tribe would have⁠ been fooled by‌ a simple bluff.‌​

But‌⁠​ if, on the⁠‌ contrary, the Blue⁠‌ Dragon tribe was‌​ hiding a power‌ strong enough to⁠​ support that confidence—‍​⁠

Then‌​ the tribe that‌⁠ submitted to the‍​​ king without resistance‍ would be the⁠⁠‍ victor—the most favored‌⁠ among all the‌ tribes in the⁠⁠​ new land.

***⁠

“His⁠ Majesty has finished⁠‌ the preparations.”

The⁠ summons from the‌‍ Blue Dragon tribe‍ for Otar arrived‍ only at dusk.⁠ Tired of waiting,‍​ Otar let out‌‍‍ a sigh and‌​​ stood up.

“Finally,‍​ I’ll see the‍⁠ face of this‌‍ king.”

“I‍ beg you not‌‌ to be discourteous.‍ He is the‌‍ king. He is‍ not someone you,‍‌ being a tribe​⁠​ chief, can compare‌‍ yourself to.”

“…”‌

At⁠ those words, Otar​‍⁠ clicked his tongue.‍

That‍ warrior must have​‌ also lived decades⁠‍‌ in the tundra‌​ and therefore knew‍ the inter-tribal relationships‍ well.

Even‍‌​ so, he placed‍‌ the so-called king‌⁠ above a chief‌‍ with complete ease,⁠ showing no concern‍ for the consequences‌‌ of his words.​⁠

“Just⁠⁠ asking, but… did‌ you speak like‍ this to the⁠​ other chiefs too?”‍

“Yes.”‍‌

“And⁠⁠⁠ they just accepted​​ it?”

“So‌‌ far, yes.”

“So⁠​‍ far? Am I not the only​ chief who came‍ to see this​⁠​ king?”

“To⁠ be exact, all⁠‌‌ of them are​‍ on their way.⁠‌ The king wished⁠​‌ to see you​‌ all together.”

“…!”⁠⁠⁠

Otar‍‌‍ had to restrain‌‍ the immediate urge​⁠ to cut the​⁠⁠ warrior in two.‍⁠

So⁠⁠ that excuse about​‌ the king not​ being ready was‍ just a trick​‌ to make them‍‍ wait until all​ the chiefs arrived?​⁠ He planned to⁠ line them up‍ before him, not‍‍ as equals, but⁠⁠‌ as future subjects‍⁠​ to be compared?​

‘Damn‍⁠ arrogant bastard…’

Even​⁠ if he had‍​ proclaimed himself king,‍ Otar believed that‌ after taking the​⁠ position of chief,​​‍ he’d at least​⁠ have some common⁠ sense.

But​⁠ now it seemed⁠‍​ clear he was‍ a lunatic who‍‍ genuinely believed he⁠⁠​ was a king.​​

Fury⁠​‌ boiled in his​‍‌ chest, but he⁠ couldn’t ruin everything‌⁠​ after coming this‍ far. Holding his⁠‍ breath, Otar glared⁠‌​ at the warrior.⁠

“Pray‌​ that your king‍⁠ comes out unharmed.⁠‍ I can endure‍​ this humiliation, but‌​‍ the other chiefs⁠ won’t be so‍‍ patient.”

“No​‌‌ matter how angry‍​ a creature gets,​‌​ it’s still just‍ a creature. Before‌‌ a dragon, it’s‍​ nothing but food.”‌

“Well…‍⁠ Now I’m really​​ curious. What the⁠‌​ hell did you‌ see in this​ king to talk‌‍ like that?”

“When‍​‍ you see him​‍‌ in person, you’ll​‌ understand naturally. Ah,⁠‍ just in time.‍‍⁠ They’ve all arrived.”‌‍‍

At⁠ those words, Otar‌ raised his head⁠​ and saw the​‌ chiefs of the​⁠ various tribes approaching​⁠ from all directions.⁠​‍

They‌‍​ too seemed to‌‌ have only just‌ realized the situation,⁠​ as their faces⁠‍ were all flushed,‌ barely holding in‌‍ their anger.

After‍‌​ guiding them, the‌ Blue Dragon tribe‍‌ warriors bowed their‌​⁠ heads to the⁠‌⁠ chiefs, who were‌‍ on the verge⁠ of exploding.

“Go​​⁠ ahead. You won’t‌⁠​ be entering one‌‌‌ by one, but‍ all together.”

“Damn‍​‍ it! Fine, let’s‍‌ see this so-called‌‌⁠ king’s face already.”​

The‌⁠ first to curse⁠​ was Broindolf, chief​​​ of the Red‌‌ Wolf tribe. It⁠ seemed he had⁠‍⁠ reached his limit,‍‌ as he strode⁠ forward without concern‌ for courtesy.

The‍‌ Blue Dragon warriors‍‌ hesitated for a moment but did​⁠ not try to⁠‍ stop him.

Boom!‍

“Come⁠‌ out, you damned‍​​ usurper! Who do​⁠ you think you‌ are to dare—!”⁠⁠​

Broindolf​ threw the doors‍ open, ready to⁠ start a fight​ at any moment,​​‌ but froze upon‍ seeing the person‌ inside.

“…A‌‍ child?”

To​ be precise, he‌‌ wasn’t exactly a child anymore, but‌‌‍ rather a young​ man.

In‍ the Empire, he’d‍​⁠ already be considered​⁠ a full adult,​​‌ but in the‍‌‌ tundra, his body⁠ two heads shorter‌​ than average and‌ his beardless face‍‌ made him seem‌ like a kid‌ in the eyes​​⁠ of the tribes.‌

Even‍‍ so, the young‌ man was unfazed​ by the comment​‍ and smirked disdainfully‌⁠ at Broindolf.

“And‌ what are you⁠⁠‌ standing there for?‍ If you’re here,​⁠‌ stop acting like​​‍ a fool and​⁠​ sit down.”

***​

The‍‌​ five chiefs who​‍ entered the residence‌​ were speechless upon​‌‌ seeing Lucian seated⁠ in the main​⁠ seat.

They​​‌ had imagined a battle-hardened warrior or​‍ a cunning strategist—not‍​‍ a youth who⁠​ had barely started‍ growing facial hair.​

But⁠⁠​ the most unsettling⁠ thing was his​‌ attitude.

“Thanks⁠ for coming all‌ this way. You⁠​‍ all move pretty‍‌‌ quickly. I’m glad—this​ will be over​‍⁠ soon.”

“…”​⁠

“First,⁠​‍ step forward one⁠⁠ by one and‌‍‌ introduce yourselves. I must know those​‌ who will be‍​⁠ under my command.”‍‌

Otar​‌​ barely managed to‍​‌ stifle an incredulous‍‌ laugh. They hadn’t‍‌⁠ even sworn loyalty‍⁠‌ yet, and he‍‍ was already speaking‍‌⁠ as if they⁠‌‌ were his subordinates.‍

“What​ kind of joke⁠‍⁠ is this? A brat who hasn’t‍ even lost his‍​ fuzz calling himself‌‌‌ king? Are you​‍⁠ mocking us?”

Broindolf,​​ the same one‍ who had marched‍‍ in first, couldn’t​ hold back anymore‌⁠‍ and stood up⁠‍​ with a shout.‌‍ Lucian looked at⁠‌‌ him as if‌​⁠ confused.

“How⁠⁠ strange. I’m sure​‍⁠ you said that‍‍‍ if I stopped‍‌‌ the blizzard, all‌⁠ five of you‌​ would swear loyalty.‍⁠ Are you going‌‍‌ back on your‌‍ word now?”

“I​⁠⁠ thought you were‌⁠ a warrior! If‌‌​ you were going‍​ to dethrone the⁠ former chief Ivar,​‌ I expected someone​ stronger than him!‍​ But this weakling—!”⁠‌

“Weakling?”‌⁠

Lucian⁠⁠‍ smiled, baring his‌‍‌ teeth like a wild beast. At‌‍‍ the same time,⁠ dense mana began⁠⁠​ to pour out‌‍ of him in‌​ thick strands.

A wave of suffocating​⁠‍ heat swept through⁠‌‌ the room, making‍⁠‍ Broindolf instinctively take‌‍‌ a step back.​

“The⁠​⁠ Dragon’s Blessing?”

“It’s⁠‍ still too early‌‌ to be surprised.”‌

The⁠⁠​ more Lucian’s smile‍⁠ deepened, the denser‍‍ the mana that​ flowed from his⁠⁠ body became.

That​​​ energy, once like⁠​‍ a mirage, transformed⁠‍⁠ into a waterfall,​​ to the point‌ that even breathing‍‌​ in the room‍ became nearly impossible.‍​‍

The‍‍ five chiefs raised‌⁠​ their own power​‍​ to endure it,‍‍‍ but they could⁠ barely stay conscious.‌‍

“Wh-what‍⁠​ is thi—?!”

None​‍​ of them could⁠‌ even finish cursing.⁠​ A single slip‌​ in breathing made​​ them feel as‌ if they’d be​​ crushed and die‌⁠‌ from suffocation.

The‌ pressure of the‍⁠ mana kept rising‌ endlessly until not‌ only breathing but‍‌​ even opening their​‌‌ eyes became torture.‌⁠

Crack,‍ crunch.

The‌‍ sound of wood⁠​​ breaking echoed clearly​⁠ in the ears​​ of the five‍‌ chiefs.

Some‌ furniture couldn’t withstand​ the pressure and‍ warped. Soon after,⁠​ even the floor⁠​⁠ began to creak,‍‍ and cold sweat‍ beaded on Otar’s​ forehead.

‘Damn⁠​ it. If someone⁠ makes a wrong‌​ move here, we​‍ all die.’

The​ Dragon’s Blessing could⁠‌ become, depending on‌ how it was‍⁠ used, a sharp‌ storm or a crushing boulder.

As‌‌ long as the‌‍⁠ king only increased‍ the density, like‌‌‌ now, they could‍‍ barely endure.

But⁠‍ if he ever​‌ chose to turn​ that boulder into‍‌ a storm—

Not​​ only would the‌‍ room explode entirely,​‌ but everyone present⁠ would be shredded‌ to pieces.

Crack,​‍ crunch.

The⁠⁠‍ floor started to​ sink little by​ little, and the‍⁠ bodies of the⁠‌​ five chiefs wobbled.⁠‍‍

Though‍ they could collapse​ pathetically at any⁠​‍ moment, none of‌⁠‍ them could move.‌‌

Breathing​‍ had been impossible​​⁠ for a while‌‍​ now; the only‌‌ thing they could‌​⁠ do was endure,‌‍⁠ hoping not to⁠‍‌ be crushed.

Just⁠ when Otar was⁠ about to lose‌ consciousness and fall‌ with his eyes​⁠‌ rolling back, the​‍ magical pressure vanished‍⁠ all at once,‌ as if washed​‍‌ away.

“Hah…‌‍⁠ hah!”

“Huff…!”​‍​

Freed⁠ from the oppression,⁠⁠ the five chiefs⁠‍⁠ gasped desperately for​⁠⁠ air. Never had​​⁠ a single breath‍​ felt so precious.‌‍

When‌⁠ they finally regained‌‍⁠ a bit of‍⁠ composure and began​ to react, a sharp voice cut​‍ through them.

“Repeat⁠​⁠ it. Who did⁠‍ you say was⁠‍‌ the weakling?”

At⁠⁠‍ the king’s piercing⁠‍ voice, the five‍‌ chiefs froze completely.‍

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