Across all regions, there exist forces of arms: the Adventurers’ Guild and the Mercenary Guild. These are historically deep-rooted organizations that have been around since the early days of the Manhett Empire’s founding.
[Dungeons exist in every region. To request their subjugation, please seek out the Adventurers’ Guild and the Mercenary Guild.]
So the loading screen of the game would say, pointing to dungeons and monsters as the reason. But, really, ‘It’s all just the developers’ design.’
A rule implicitly understood in any game: a convenient place within the game to handle quests, hire companions, and deal with the byproducts of monsters, naturally segmented into quests/hiring/shopping for the players’ convenience.
That might have been the intended use of the Mercenary Guild, but the reality of it was somewhat different.
“Hey, bring out a beer!”
“Lately, there’s an overflow of requests for moose leather. Is some noble buying them in bulk?”
“They’re recruiting additional personnel at the Barant Fortress… Maybe I should apply?”
Where money congregates, people follow, a natural law. To the mercenaries, the monster and war-ridden North was a land of opportunity.
“Brother Hans, is this where I will be stationed?”
Oparn, following behind me, surveyed the building with curiosity.
“What’s so fascinating?”
“…The places I was before had beautiful architectural designs. This place is somewhat…”
Was it not curiosity but disappointment? The underground palace, the duke’s residence—only noble places have been home to our gargoyle lord. Naturally, the hustle and bustle right from the entrance and almost market-like atmosphere inside would hardly satisfy expectations for a Mercenary Guild building.
“…But you didn’t have to say it out loud.”
“Huh?”
The interesting glance of the new recruit quickly turned to displeasure, making me click my tongue. I hadn’t meant it quite like that when I asked if he was good at causing a stir.
‘Life here will be quite the struggle.’
Having made a poor first impression, enduring the locals’ standoffishness was entirely Oparn’s burden.
“Hey, I hear some fresh-faced brats have come to the Mercenary Guild to stir up trouble. Some whelps from the Adventurers’ Guild looking for a fight?”
Sure enough.
A burly man approached us, growling.
“Not going to answer? What are you doing here!”
“You, a lowly creature, have no right to an answer from me.”
However, the one picking the fight had chosen poorly. Oparn, though a demon, was a member of the nobility—indeed, a prince. His pride was sky-high, comparable even to Batory’s.
‘This is getting interesting.’
-I need your help.
-Be careful. There’s a rock ahead.
-Oops, sorry…
-What’s there to apologize for? It’s good you didn’t fall.
As much as his original portrayal dripped with sweetness, the cold demeanor he showed to others, and the confusion it brought me, was stark. His attitude screamed arrogance to anyone observing.
‘Did the protagonist make Oparn so gentle?’
Well, it’s a world revolving around her, so perhaps it was possible.
As I was comparing the original Oparn to the present,
“A kicked-out whelp? And what are you?”
“Excuse me. If you strike now, it’s likely you’ll only hurt yourself.”
My hand swiftly caught the mercenary’s wrist, gripping the twitching muscle firmly.
“Ugh…!”
Not that I was worried about the man; his bones would probably break before causing any damage to gargoyle skin.
‘If a fight breaks out now, it would be troublesome for us.’
I’m technically on leave, but Luciana might need me. I need to return to my favorite character as quickly as possible, so I can’t afford to get entangled with this guy.
“You asked for a purpose, didn’t you? What else would bring us to the Mercenary Guild? This friend here wants to become a mercenary.”
I nodded towards Oparn, prompting surprise from the mercenary, his wrist still in Oparn’s grasp.
“…A mercenary? That fine gentleman, complaining about the building, wants to be a mercenary and not an adventurer?”
“Surprising, right? He says he’s had his fill of seeing fellow nobles.”
Adventurers and mercenaries. Similar in nature, so why the distinction and separate naming? It was a measure set by the highborn nobles, who found it beneath them to act alongside the common peasantry. The adventurers, nobly exploring ruins and chasing mysteries, contrasted with the mercenaries, seen as lowly commoners chasing only money.
Just the statement of a noble willing to become a mercenary was enough to thaw the previously frozen atmosphere.
However,
“Let’s calm down and make way, please.”
“Hmph. You’ll fail the entrance test soon enough.”
“Where do we go for the admission?”
“Ha! The first room over there. I hope you get eliminated in one go!”
The atmosphere had softened, but the sharpness remained. The man shook off my hand with a harsh glare at Oparn.
Had he just realized something? Oparn, who had quietly followed, muttered softly.
“It seems we’ve made a poor impression. Shall we go elsewhere, brother?”
“No, just follow. This is where you belong.”
There was no reason to go against the flow of the original storyline. Better to ride along with it and predict the future as much as possible.
‘Besides, there’s not much they can do.’
Despite the overall unfriendly atmosphere, the decision to grant mercenary badges and membership lies with the guild master and the team leader. An ordinary mercenary like him or anyone else had limited means of retaliation.
Oparn could surely overcome it. Despite his youthful appearance, his overwhelming strength and physical talent would fit right in with the mercenaries’ standards.
‘And even as mercenaries, they can’t escape the grasp of the nobles.’
The overwhelming number of mercenaries couldn’t surpass the adventurers for this reason. Most clients are nobles, after all, holding tight the purse strings of the mercenaries.
Ultimately, they couldn’t escape the influence of the Speda family.
“What brings you here?”
“We’ve come to see the guild master.”
“You’re esteemed guests then. Please wait a moment.”
That evidence was right here. The old woman glanced at our attire and soon left, showing a level of politeness not often seen towards common mercenaries, which instantly stiffened the faces of the mercenaries present.
“We’ve prepared a place for you. This way, please.”
Leading Oparn and me inside, the attention of every mercenary in the lobby followed us.
“Ah, welcome!”
The door opened to a burly middle-aged man greeting us with a deep bow.
“Such formalities aren’t necessary. I’m not a noble, just a servant.”
“Modesty befits you. But for a martial arts tournament champion and a person discussed as a potential future head servant in the Speda household, it’s hardly enough.”
Champion, yes. But head servant? Me? That was news to me, and before I could react, a hefty pouch slid across the desk towards me.
“A small token of appreciation. For the future power of the North…”
A bribe.
Smiling broadly at the guild master, I returned the smile.
“This seems to have found the wrong owner.”
Adding another pouch on top of the first,
-Clank.
The sound of coins clashing inside indicated the pouch was now headed back to the guild master.
***
Oparn didn’t understand the situation. ‘Why did brother refuse his offer?’ Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a refusal. He added more to what was given and returned it.
For someone as powerful as he, owning everything was the norm. Why show kindness to this weakling?
“…Ah, perhaps my gesture was insufficient. May I ask if you meant for me to add more?”
The guild master’s face turned serious. Unlike him, still smiling leisurely, Hans maintained an air of calm confidence.
“No, it’s purely a personal visit to greet you, guild master. But it seems my gesture might have been inadequate. Please, give me a moment.”
-Clank, clank.
Soon, the desk prepared for their meeting was filled with pouches pulled from his possession.
It was clear even without opening them. Each of those pouches was heavy, filled to the brim with money. Even if Oparn knew little about human wealth, one thing was certain.
“Where did you get all this money from…!”
Judging by the guild master’s astounded reaction, it was no ordinary amount.
-Your tribute was so insignificant it meant nothing to me.
It seemed like Hans was making a statement.
Oparn, hiding his curiosity, continued to observe the situation.
“Why are you so surprised? It’s merely a ‘gesture of goodwill’ from me.”
“Oh, no. Just wait a moment, please! This amount… it’s like the guild’s annual budget! We can’t provide this!”
“Calm down. It’s a gift from me to you.”
The greed evident in the guild master’s eyes at the sight of the offering.
“There’s no such thing as a gift without a price in this world. What do you, a servant from the Speda household, want from a mere mercenary like me?”
Contrary to the expectation that he would collect all the pouches, the seemingly foolish guild master quickly reined in his greed.
“Haha. You catch on quick. Well, it’s not for nothing you got to your position. I like people like you.”
‘…As expected!’
Oparn marveled quietly. This was a form of ‘mind games.’ Unlike his previous blunder, Hans was skillfully manipulating the situation.
Truly, a masterful move worthy of a great demon.
“A mere mercenary, what nonsense. I’ve come here seeking a service only the leader of the Mercenary Guild can provide.”
“…And what might that service be?”
“The right given annually to each regional head of the mercenary guilds, you’re not unaware of it, I presume.”
As Hans produced a violet-sealed letter from his pocket, the guild master’s face turned stone-cold.
“That’s…!”
“With the admission period approaching, you surely have it. To offer an opportunity to young and promising mercenaries.”
‘Prospect? Opportunity?’ What was it about this envelope that evoked such a reaction? To Oparn, it seemed no more than an overly ornate envelope.
“This is what I want, guild master.”
“Are you not a noble? And you already possess that invitation. Why then…?”
“Ah, you misunderstand. It’s not for me.”
Hans turned towards him.
“It’s a gift for my beloved younger brother.”
“That means…”
“Yes, for this friend here, soon to become a mercenary.”
The guild master’s face soured instantly.
“An academy admission request, that’s problematic. We already have a designated candidate.”
“Ah, Georg, you mean.”
“Yes. You’re well informed. A young man with solid performance and contributions to the guild. Though he recently failed a protective mission, it was due to a natural disaster involving a legend from the West.”
‘Soon to become a mercenary?’
Oparn swallowed hard, finally grasping the situation. The academy. The institution of human education Hans had emphasized before arriving here—the place where the saintess would enroll, a destination he must reach for his own vengeance.
And it seemed, for his sake, Hans was attempting to secure that opportunity.
Moved by Hans’s consideration, Oparn was ready to be touched when the guild master voiced his refusal.
“It’s troublesome. There will be backlash from the mercenaries in the guild. Where did fairness go? We’ll consider this request unheard.”
“Uh-oh, that’s a problem.”
“Are you trying to oppress the mercenaries under the Speda household?”
“Or is it because Georg is an adopted son?”
“!”
“If we’re talking about fairness, you, who admitted a relative who is not of your blood, might have more issues.”
Was it the tongue of a viper? Oparn almost felt as though the guild master was ensnared by Hans’s words. The guild master protested vehemently, but his momentum had clearly broken.
“He has earned the right! A man who has dedicated his life to the guild!”
“Well, that’s your opinion, Guild Master, but I wonder if you could make the same argument to the Speda family’s envoy, who will be inspecting soon.”
The guild master’s lower lip trembled inwardly.
Then,
“Well, worry not. I have no intention of blocking his admission.”
“What nonsense are you spouting…!”
“Don’t pretend any longer. You have another, don’t you? Another admission ticket.”
With a slightly raised eyebrow, a sharp intensity emanated from him towards the guild master.
“Starting this year, each branch of the Mercenary and Adventurers’ Guilds received two additional slots, didn’t they?”
“How could you know…!”
Before the guild master could recover from his shock, his face turned even paler.
‘That doppelganger noble… Born without status, belonging to the lowest caste in the demon realm, known as vermin living off others’ identities…’
Oparn swallowed hard, marveling at the revealed prowess and rising admiration for Hans.
***
I watched the trembling mouse before me with a leisurely attitude. The panic behind his pale face was all too clear.
-How did he know?
-Could there be a spy in our guild…?
Academy admission tickets are one of the top routes for commoners to elevate their status. Thus, the increase in slots was top secret.
But one thing he didn’t anticipate was,
‘Soon, once the entrance ceremony is over, it’ll become public knowledge. The guilds themselves won’t announce it, but…’
-Tch, it’s annoying. Those vulgar people, just because they’ve eaten a bit of sword, acting all high and mighty in class.
-Why did the number of commoners double from last year?
A common scene in the original story where the commoner-born saintess, the protagonist, and the commoner mercenary, Oparn, thrillingly turned the tables on those who looked down on them.
I never thought those gossipy nobles, pretending to be refined, would provide such useful information here.
The exceptional increase in commoner slots, especially for mercenaries,
‘I guess it makes sense. The nobles lack practical skills beyond ceremonial swordsmanship and magic.’
They intended to fill that gap with experienced mercenaries and adventurers, given the suspicious signs detected across regions.
“If fairness is such an issue, why not follow the Northern tradition?”
A flicker of interest crossed the rigid guild master’s face.
“The Northern tradition?”
“What else but a duel?”
As I gestured towards Oparn standing behind me, the guild master’s expression brightened before turning gloomy again. It took a moment for him to realize it was a bet he couldn’t win.
“How about it? With the money I’ve given you, you could hold a tournament among the mercenaries. Oh, and naturally, the remaining funds would be yours.”
Feigning innocence while adding to my suggestion, the guild master’s gaze, fixated on the pouches on the desk, began to waver significantly.
Cliche Novel 