Chapter 29

Mercenaries usually spend money with both hands when they receive a large sum.

Since it is a profession in which they can die at any moment, they think they should at least enjoy themselves.

Of course, their daily life also naturally ends up chaotic and dissolute.

Lucian, who had also been a mercenary, knew that lifestyle well.

But even he was left speechless at the spectacle before him now.

“It’s horrifying.”

Liquor bottles rolled across the floor with every step.

Vomit was scattered everywhere. Completely drunk mercenaries were throwing their tankards.

It wasn’t a scene tolerable at nightfall; it would only make sense at dawn after a night of revelry.

“Blergh! Who the hell is this? We rented this place!”

“A stranger? Damn, just when we’re having fun he comes to ruin the mood.”

“The brat even brought an escort? Does he have a lot of money or what?”

“Hahah!”

The mercenaries burst out laughing as they looked at Lucian.

At their vulgar jokes, typical of people accustomed to dirty work, the gazes of Hugo and the Black Lions sharpened.

“Young master.”

“Leave it, stay still.”

Lucian stopped Raymond, who was about to intervene, and picked up one of the bottles rolling on the floor.

Then, with all his strength, he threw it at the ceiling in the center of the inn.

Crash!, clang, clang, clang!

“What the fuck?!”

“Goddammit!”

With the crash, shards of glass rained down on the mercenaries’ heads.

Only then, already fairly sobered by the shock, did they stand up cursing.

Before the enraged mercenaries could rush in to attack, Lucian spoke again.

“My name is Lucian Valdeck. I am the third son of His Grace Sigmund Valdeck, current Grand Duke of Valdeck, and the brother of Tristan Valdeck, the duke who is currently your employer.”

“…”

“I wanted to speak for a moment, but you seemed incapable of reacting, so I applied a little shock therapy. Luckily, it worked. Or do you need me to bring you some honey water?”

As soon as they heard who he was, the mercenaries all stepped back at once.

If they so much as touched a finger of the Grand Duke’s son, they were dead.

While the mercenaries hesitated, someone stepped forward.

“Well, we don’t need honey water. We’re wide awake now. But why the hell is a young master of the Valdeck family making all this fuss?”

“…How insolent!”

At the clear disrespect that crossed the line, Raymond’s hand went to the sword at his waist.

He looked ready to draw it at any moment. Lucian held his shoulder to stop him and looked at the mercenary who had stepped forward.

He had a scruffy beard and a face covered in scars, with a rough look similar to Hugo’s.

‘This one is the core of the group.’

To others it might have looked like the simple insolence of a brainless mercenary.

But in Lucian’s eyes, every word had been calculated beforehand.

‘Seeing that control was slipping away, he took the initiative to seize it, and with those provocations he made it clear they aren’t at a disadvantage. The timing is also perfect, right before negotiations begin.’

By the level of disrespect alone, they could cut off his head for insulting a noble.

But at the same time, he was convinced that if Lucian truly wanted to negotiate, he would overlook something like this at least once.

If blood spilled before they even began talking, the entire deal would collapse.

He not only had experience but also a certain political instinct and a quick mind.

‘But how arrogant.’

To trust blindly in his own plan, without even considering the possibility of error, was sheer overconfidence.

“What’s your name?”

“My friends call me Sven, the Crimson Blade.”

“Good, Sven. I’ll ask you just one question. Why are you and the others still wasting time here? From what I understand, the mercenary contract already ended. If you received the money, you should be working.”

Lucian ignored the nickname completely and asked calmly. Sven smirked and tilted his head.

“That can’t be. Unfortunately, our contract with Lord Tristan hasn’t been finalized yet. We want to be hired at a higher price, but suddenly they offer us less money and ask us to work. What are we supposed to do?”

“I see. Then, did you receive that money?”

“Of course. It’s nowhere near an advance payment for a contract, but if they give it to us, there’s no reason to refuse it, don’t you think? Right, boys?”

“That’s right! Glory to the generous Duke Tristan!”

“And glory to the booze and snacks we bought with his money!”

“Hahaha!”

The mercenaries burst into laughter again. It seemed they intended to treat Tristan’s money not as a contract advance but as alms.

Seeing Sven so relaxed and the mercenaries backing him up, Lucian held his forehead.

‘This won’t do.’

Tristan had ruined everything with his terrible negotiating ability, and Sven, overly confident in his own skill, had no intention of giving in.

On top of that, it was already completely exposed that the help of the mercenaries was absolutely necessary, and the others’ trust in Sven was extremely high.

In this situation, there was no way for serious negotiation to happen.

“Don’t take it so negatively. If you pay us enough, from that moment on we’ll work like dogs. After all, when it comes to completing requests, we’re quite reliable.”

Perhaps believing Lucian had already given up, Sven’s words sounded more like consolation than anything.

But even so, he couldn’t hide the sense of victory in his voice.

Seeing Sven completely immersed in his grave mistake, Lucian gave a bitter smile.

“Oh, really? What did you say? That if I pay enough you’d really accept any job?”

“Of course. It all depends on the amount, of course.”

“Then, according to my calculations this amount should be more than enough, don’t you think?”

Clink, shashalak.

Lucian pulled a coin pouch from his chest and tossed it onto the table. The poorly tied string came undone, and the platinum coins inside scattered in a cascade.

The mercenaries, who moments before admired the bold gesture, widened their eyes upon seeing the engravings on the coins.

“P–platinum! It’s a commemorative coin of the birth of the great emperor Wilhelm!”

“What? This is insane!”

“Young master!”

Cries of astonishment burst among the mercenaries, and even the Black Lions were shocked.

The platinum commemorative coins for the birth of the great emperor Wilhelm, founder of the Empire.

They were minted only once every several decades.

Each one was worth hundreds of common gold coins and could be exchanged immediately anywhere on the continent.

And now that kind of coin was being thrown down in a full pouch.

Gulp.

Seeing the gleaming platinum coins, the mercenaries swallowed hard.

With that sum, someone could live the rest of their life with more luxury than an average noble.

If everyone present split it, maybe it wouldn’t be as much, but at least enough for them to immediately retire from mercenary life.

Not even Sven had expected such an amount; he cleared his throat repeatedly as he tried to control his expression.

“E–eh… ahem. I see you’re a reasonable person. Very well. With this amount, it will be more than enough…”

“Under the name of Lucian Valdeck, I will give all this platinum to whoever kills Sven, the Crimson Blade.”

“…What!?”

Sven, who had been suppressing a huge smile while reaching for the coin pouch, froze like a statue at Lucian’s words.

***

A heavy silence fell over the inn.

The order itself was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was common for drunk clients, after finishing a job, to order mercenaries to kill each other or fight for fun.

Almost always, they were meaningless provocations, so mercenaries usually ignored them.

But when such an absurd sum dangled as a reward, the story was different.

“Damn it, what did you just say? You’re going to give all that money to a single person?”

“Say something that makes sense. That amount would shake even an important noble family.”

“But he swore it in his name in front of everyone.”

“And by mentioning his family, it’s not something that can be swept under the rug.”

As the murmurs increased, Sven could no longer hide his unease.

After all the effort to build that loyalty, to have it crumble like that—if he let things continue, it wouldn’t take long before someone gave in to the temptation of those words.

He had to say something—anything—to regain the attention of the mercenaries.

“Hey, young master! What the hell do you think you’re do—!”

Shiiing.

Before Sven could finish the sentence, Lucian unsheathed his sword.

At first, everyone flinched, thinking he was going to attack, but the blade moved toward his own hand.

Slash.

“Young master!?”

Ignoring Hugo’s cry, Lucian clenched his fist as blood ran down the palm of his hand.

Then he raised the bloody fist so all the mercenaries could see and shouted in a resounding voice.

“O, eight gods of the heavens! I swear in the name of Lucian Valdeck that I will give everything contained in this pouch to whoever kills the man standing before me. If I break this oath, may I no longer be a member of blue blood. Bear witness!”

“Ah…”

Raymond covered his face with both hands before he realized it.

The Pantheon Oath.

It didn’t have any magical binding; it was still just an oath.

But in terms of tradition and historical weight, its importance was immeasurable.

There had not been a single emperor of the Empire who had ignored an oath made in this way.

If a noble broke that oath, not only would they be ridiculed for life, but they would also be expelled from their family.

‘Now there’s no turning back.’

If someone killed Sven, all that platinum would truly have to be given.

The only way not to pay would be to publicly nullify the oath before anyone acted.

If no one fulfilled the promise, nullifying the oath wouldn’t be a problem.

“Shit, wasn’t that the Pantheon Oath? I’ve only heard of it in stories.”

“In the end, it’s still just an oath. It’s not like divine punishment falls from the sky for breaking it.”

“Idiot! If a noble breaks the Pantheon Oath, they get expelled from their family!”

“What? Then he’s really going to give all that platinum?”

As soon as Lucian finished the oath, the tension among the mercenaries intensified even more.

But no matter how tense it was, no one took the first step.

Accepting a request like that—betraying a comrade—was the same as becoming everyone’s enemy.

Trusting only the oath of a young noble they had just met was unsettling.

“Pathetic.”

Lucian looked at them with disdain.

“I swore on my honor and before the gods. If you can’t even trust an oath like that, then you don’t deserve this platinum.”

Lucian withdrew half of the coins and put the rest back in the pouch.

Seeing the amount suddenly cut in half, the mercenaries’ eyes visibly trembled.

Without giving them time to react, Lucian reclaimed that half, nullified the oath, and shouted again.

“O, eight gods of the heavens!”

The same oath echoed again, but now with the reward reduced to half. The mercenaries looked at each other, uneasy, not knowing what to do.

When no one stepped forward this time either, Lucian reduced the amount again.

Although only a quarter of the original sum remained, it was still an enormous amount.

When the third oath echoed, some mercenaries jumped to their feet and shouted desperately:

“W-wait a moment, young master!”

“Shut up! I came looking for someone to fulfill the oath, not to waste time chatting with you.”

“How are we supposed to trust this?! At least offer some guarantee—!”

“Whether you believe it or not is your problem. But if you can’t even trust the Pantheon Oath, what else am I supposed to offer?”

With a mocking laugh, Lucian nullified the oath again and picked up nearly all the remaining platinum.

The mercenaries, who thought at least half would remain, were frozen.

The sum that was left no longer afforded a luxurious noble or merchant’s life; at best, it was enough for three commoners to live worry-free for the rest of their lives.

Even so, it was an amount no ordinary mercenary could even dream of touching—not even by watching it in someone else’s hands.

“O, eight gods of the heavens!”

“…Damn it!”

Clank, clatter.

At the instant the fourth oath echoed, several mercenaries sprang to their feet and drew their weapons.

From all sides, determined gazes emerged, as if to say they couldn’t let this chance slip away.

At the sudden change in atmosphere, Sven stepped back wordlessly.

“Stop immediately! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Bang!

Someone yelled at the mercenaries while standing up abruptly. It was a young mercenary who had been sitting at the same table as Sven.

“What are you thinking, falling for such a vile ploy?! Are you really going to believe the nonsense of a young noble about oaths and gods?!”

“A-Aiden!”

Sven’s eyes welled up when he saw his second-in-command, Aiden, come to his defense.

After glaring at the others, Aiden approached Sven, grabbed him by the shoulder, and said:

“Have you already forgotten how much Captain Sven has done for you until now? Even if we’re mercenaries, betraying for such a miserable sum is shameful!”

“Ahem.”

“Well, I don’t know what shame is, but…”

Thunk.

While Sven puffed out his chest, emboldened by Aiden’s words, he suddenly felt a searing pain in his side.

His eyes opened wide.

A dagger was deeply lodged in his body.

“Y-you…!”

“I’m sorry, Captain. But try to understand me.”

Crunch.

“You’ve used me twice already as a discard card. This is my first time. The difference is that you failed and I succeeded. So now we’re even.”

When Aiden twisted the dagger again, a hollow gasp escaped Sven’s mouth.

It seemed it had pierced his guts, because he couldn’t even resist as the blade was pulled out.

Aiden stabbed him a couple more times to make sure he finished him off, then threw Sven’s body aside.

Thump.

“Young master, fulfill your oath.”

After disposing of his superior, Aiden looked at Lucian with a gaze filled with a sinister gleam.

Lucian smiled, gathered the remaining platinum from the table, and placed it in Aiden’s hand himself.

“Of course I will.”