“Let's kill them all.”
Some had not only dropped their weapons but even wet themselves. As they stood there, Rem spoke, holding a blood-soaked axe.
“P-p-please spare us.”
It was only natural for them to be terrified. Their will to fight was already gone. Rem thought they had to be killed.
He was from the western frontier, a place whose people were condescendingly called barbarians. Rem had spent his childhood in the west. The frontier was a world where you could not afford to leave behind future troubles.
“Seems they’re the ones who sent the assassin, so what’s the point of figuring out who the culprit is? Let's just slit their throats and be done with it. Isn't that cleaner?”
The terrified men couldn't even manage a whimper. Standing between Enkrid and the kneeling group of criminals, Rem looked as if he could swing his axe at any moment. They kept their mouths shut.
“Where did you toss your blanket?”
Rem had been about to say that if Enkrid didn't want to do it, he would take care of it himself. But then came an unexpected question.
“What?”
“Your blanket.”
He had certainly been wrapped up in a blanket when they left the barracks. But at some point, he had thrown it away.
“Somewhere around the alley entrance?”
It was before he saw the beggar. His unique instincts, the sense of smell of a beast, had told Rem to prepare for a fight.
“Then what are you going to do for sleep tonight?”
He didn't know why Enkrid kept asking such things, but Rem had a plan from the moment he threw the blanket away, so he answered.
“Don't you worry. I'll just use the blanket of that guy who stays out every night. I won't steal yours, Squad Leader.”
“Touch my things and you die. No, I will kill you. Without fail.”
Jacksen understood and reacted. The guy who often stayed out was Jacksen. Jacksen saw many women.
Whenever they entered a city, he was often absent from the barracks at night.
“You cheap bastard, you're not even going to use it.”
“Don't touch it, you barbarian.”
“You sly wildcat, so petty.”
Seeing the two of them start to bicker, Enkrid clapped his hands once.
“There’s no need for that, Rem.”
Enkrid had a plan from the moment he first targeted the Thieves' Guild. A plan a little more plausible than Rem’s clumsy blanket-stealing scheme. Half of it started because he thought they sent the assassin, and the other half was a different plan.
‘This is unexpected.’
More than half of him thought they might not be behind the assassination. He already knew Azpen had sent them, didn't he? So if someone had asked him to bet krona on it, he would have bet against the guild being the mastermind.
Though he would have only wagered a few bronze coins he didn't mind losing. Whether they were behind it or not, there was a more important plan.
“It’s quite cold. Don't you want to stay warm?”
Rem tilted his head. Everyone looked like they were wondering what he was talking about.
“Huh?”
Only Krais, with his sharp wits and quick mind, understood. He blinked his big eyes and looked at his Squad Leader as if to say, ‘Surely not.’ Enkrid gave a slight nod.
How many years had he spent in the mercenary world just to train his sword? He had learned of the Vallen-style mercenary swordsmanship there, but what he learned besides the sword was many times greater.
For instance.
‘It is just to empty the pockets of a thief who tries to empty yours.’
Things like that. Enkrid made up his mind. He didn't think this would affect his dream in any way.
They were a criminal gang anyway. The wealth they had accumulated wasn't gathered through proper means. There might be consequences and other various issues, but…
‘It doesn't matter.’
As his skills improved, his confidence in other matters naturally grew. He thought he could handle it one way or another. Enkrid let out a breath and continued.
“Let's rob them. Let's see if we can at least get a few heated monster hides for our quarters, even if we can't get a magic stove.”
Silence again.
It was a completely unexpected turn of events. Soon, Rem burst out laughing.
“That's right. Anything that comes from the land I've secured is mine.”
A very Rem-like expression.
“Warmly?”
Ragna also reacted. No one likes the cold.
“Ho ho, the Lord has said, 'Steal from the thieves and use it for the greater good.'”
Was that actually written in the scriptures? Or did the monastery teach such things? It seemed unlikely.
But by firmly believing what he said, Audin conveyed the justness of their actions.
“Not bad,” Jacksen also nodded.
“Are we just going to rob them?”
Krais offered a more developed idea.
“Let's go inside and talk first. It's cold.”
The air was so cold that even the heat rising from the innards and blood of the dead quickly faded. They immediately entered the mansion. Krais urged the hesitant men who were exchanging glances to enter, so the rest followed.
Since the men with broken legs were left behind.
“Help them all inside.”
At Krais's words, they looked at each other, gauging the situation. Wouldn't it be better to just run away? The thought was written all over their faces.
“We will chase you. That man with the axe. Or the one who enjoys breaking legs.”
Ragna and Jacksen had fought well, but in the gang’s eyes, the most terrifying were Rem with his axe and Audin who smashed legs with his club. It was pure terror.
“Do you think you can escape the eyes of the standing army within the Border Guard? Or perhaps you'd like to explore in the dead of the season when monsters roam the night?" "You'll either freeze to death or become monster food. We won't kill you, so come inside.”
Krais was a master of persuasion. As he went inside, Enkrid heard Krais's words and offered a compliment.
“You would have been a great con man.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn't sound like one.”
Inside, a fire was lit in the fireplace. The warmth of human presence could be felt everywhere, suggesting the dead man had lived here. Above the fireplace, two unsharpened practice swords and a shield were crossed, and a few paintings hung on both walls.
“Are they expensive?”
Enkrid asked, glancing at a painting. Krais spoke as if he didn't even need to look closely.
“No. They're cheap. I wonder who would buy such trash.”
Even Enkrid, who had no artistic sense, thought so.
“I could draw better than this with my feet,” Rem seemed to agree.
As they all stood by the fireplace, long shadows stretched out behind them.
“Light some torches. It's dark.”
Enkrid, also warming himself by the fire, said. His words weren't directed at anyone in particular. No one moved.
Enkrid added, “Gilfin is dead, so the next in line can do it.”
“Gilfin is not dead.”
Then, one of the able-bodied men stepped forward. He had a bald head that looked like a sandy beach. If you had seen it during the day, it would have been dazzling.
He had a long scar above his eyebrow, but the combination of the scar and baldness couldn't change his impression. With drooping eyes and thick lips, he just didn't look threatening. But what did he just say?
“Gilfin isn't dead?”
Did he have some kind of monstrous regeneration ability? He could survive even after having his throat slit? The guy who was now a corpse in the clearing in front of the mansion?
There was no sign of that. The sandy-headed bald man opened his mouth.
“Because I am Gilfin.”
What was this situation?
“He wasn't the leader? Ah, I see. It's one of those 'sacrificing the lizard's tail' things?”
Krais asked, pointing outside, then answering his own question. His words reminded Enkrid of some gossip he had heard at a tavern during his mercenary days.
“Sometimes, those criminal guild bastards pull this trick. They name their gang after one of their subordinates.”
“Why?”
“So they can sell out the subordinate and run if things go south. It’s a cheap trick they use when the army suddenly raids them to clean out criminals.”
“How do you know that so well?”
“I was briefly involved with that side. Anyway, it's not common for guys to go that far, but when they do, they're real sons of bitches.”
This was the first time Enkrid had actually seen someone do this. Usually, out of a desire for fame, they would name the gang after themselves. To use a subordinate's name meant the guy who died outside was an incredibly devious bastard.
“He was a son of a bitch.”
Enkrid, who understood, said. Behind him, Ragna asked what he was talking about, and the quick-witted Krais roughly explained the situation. Enkrid's plan had been plausible, but simple.
He would hit the Thieves' Guild, and if they cooperated, he would take a reasonable offering and return. If they resisted, he would beat them up and take an offering. Of course, messing with the Thieves' Guild would bring trouble later.
But he was confident he could crush even that with force. He and his squad members would be enough. But it turned out they were actually connected to the assassin who had targeted him.
So what?
‘What does that matter?’
“Are you really going to make us warm?”
Rem whispered from behind. He was leaning in too close, which was unpleasant.
“Get lost,” Enkrid whispered back before looking at Gilfin.
Gilfin stroked his sandy-beach head once and, after a moment of hesitation, spoke.
“If you're going to kill someone, just kill me and let the rest live. Among them are people who are struggling to support their sick mothers.”
“Struggling isn't an excuse to pick someone else's pocket.”
Having a sick mother didn't give one the right to hold a knife to someone else's chest for profit.
“Well, we'd be grateful if you just let us live.”
Enkrid crossed his arms and stood straight, looking at Gilfin. This guy had some backbone. His words about killing only him were quite impressive.
So, why didn't he fight earlier? When asked, he replied, “Why should I, for a bastard who would run away at the first sign of trouble after using my name?” The two men who had been the nameless guild master’s bodyguards nodded from behind.
They too had narrowly survived. Looking at how things were turning out, it was clear what the dead man had been up to. His subordinates all disliked him so uniformly.
“Are you going to cough up what you've saved? Then you can go peacefully.”
Enkrid moved according to his plan.
“Aye, if you cough it up, there’s no need to kill you.”
The frontiersman's philosophy couldn't be compared to the cold.
Rem agreed.
The others were no different.
“Yes. But the key to the safe was hidden by that dead bastard.”
“Ah, that's fine.”
They had a mage here who could open locked doors with just a knock. A safe would be child's play. Gilfin was wise.
When Enkrid said he wouldn't kill anyone, he gave up all the wealth they had accumulated.
“Oh, heated hides!”
“If you take them all, the guys guarding the streets will die.”
He was talking about the beggars guarding the inner alleys. The ones they had already killed on their way here. Krais spoke up when he heard that their ragged clothes had monster hides sewn inside.
“These will be useless if they get blood on them.”
So they couldn't take them from the dead beggars. Anyway, Enkrid looked at Gilfin with new respect.
‘He took care of even his lowest subordinates.’
From the way things were going, it seemed that despite only lending his name, he was more generous than the original guild master. Everyone seemed to follow Gilfin's will, including the two bodyguards who looked like they knew how to handle a sword.
“Leave some behind,” Enkrid intervened appropriately.
Fortunately, none of them were greedy. No, one of them should have been. Krais was a squad member overflowing with greed.
But for some reason, he only checked the goods and made no move to take them.
“Aren't you taking anything?”
“No. Ah, Squad Leader. I have something to tell you, by the way.”
Enkrid had something to say too. They had been prepared, having heard the information beforehand. There was only one place the information could have leaked from.
It wasn't from within the unit. Only two people knew they were coming here.
‘The company commander and the platoon leader.’
Could they be taking bribes from the criminal guild?
‘I don't think so.’
Then only one place remained.
‘Vanessa’s Pumpkin Soup.’
When Krais had whispered with the waitress, he had let it slip, as if by accident, that they were going to raid the Thieves' Guild.
“The waitress, did you do that on purpose?”
“Ah, you noticed? You're sharp, Squad Leader.”
Not bad, I guess. How many years had he spent learning to be observant just to survive in this harsh world?
“That's right. There are a lot of guys who unknowingly pass information to this guild. The waitress was probably their dedicated informant." "A cheerful tavern waitress is perfect for gathering all sorts of information. Oh, how scary. To think that innocent-looking girl was a thief's informant.”
Scary?
I think you're scarier. Didn't you use that fact to your full advantage?
“I wasn't sure either. I found out through this incident.”
He should have said something beforehand. It was an unnecessary trick. Realizing his mistake, Krais made excuses.
“Enough. Let it go. But from now on, it would be best to tell me beforehand.”
It must have been a move made with the squad members' skills in mind. Enkrid himself thought this way was more convenient. Otherwise, they would have had to hunt down and find the remaining members even after hitting their base.
Come to think of it, Krais definitely had his own motives. What could be gained by gathering the entire Thieves' Guild's forces and then crushing them all?
“Hey, Squad Leader. Do you need krona?”
Krais suddenly asked Enkrid, who had shown leniency. He blinked his big eyes, feigning innocence. Putting on such an innocent look was a sign that he was up to something again.
Krais was a man who knew how to use his looks. He was also clever. But that didn't mean it would work on Enkrid.
“Let's hear what scheme you're plotting.”
Making his eyes look pretty didn't work, but what Krais said was impactful. The word "krona," the imperial currency, was used interchangeably with money, so what Krais just asked was the same as asking if he needed money. Money was always needed.
He had spent all his reward money on a single sword, so he was struggling to afford other miscellaneous equipment. What they had just plundered would put out the immediate fire, but he would need a steady supply of money in the future.
“This place... let's take it,” Krais said calmly.
And so, he offered Enkrid a second job.