Ch.8: Weeding Out (1)
Four days later, morning.
The rcenaries are all sound asleep except for so personnel standing guard. Empty liquor cups with a faint sll of alcohol and vomit following excessive drinking—only traces of the previous night remain, giving off a foul odor.
Since it's a period for the wounded to recover and for newcors to adapt, Volga was also pestering the most fearso-looking rcenary from early morning, running his mouth.
"So, if you just teach
once, I'll sharpen your sword for an entire month. That's what I'm saying."
"......What did you say your na was?"
"Volga, it's Volga. Senior."
"Right, Volga."
"Yes!"
"Get lost. Before I slice up those plump cheeks of yours with my sword."
"......"
Latching onto the strong is one survival strategy, but it's certainly not easy.
With this, Volga returns to Calix, who is sitting in front of a wagon at the camp's outskirts, with his lips protruding in a pout.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Watching him cook. He put in beans, rice, and so pieces of jerky, and it's swelling up quickly. It's fascinating. You should co watch, too."
"Everything's fascinating to you. Is this your first ti seeing soone cook?"
"Yeah. It's my first ti seeing it directly."
"......"
His morning luck is truly not good.
He belatedly rembered that Calix was from the conscripted side.
He had been a slave for a long ti; there's no way he would have seen cooking. However, his pride wouldn't allow him to apologize straightforwardly, so he spoke curtly.
"Hey, you should also co with
and try poking around instead of just sitting outside like a scholar. Bow your head to strong rcenaries, humor them. That's how you survive."
"That's true, but whoever has been talking too much about my story has made the gazes toward
not so favorable."
"That's...... That's because it was a story worth bragging about!"
"......"
"Anyway, all the people you hang around with don't even know how to fight. Why do you only talk to people from this side?"
Calix doesn't explain in detail.
The weak have their own ways of survival.
Who holds the most information?
Those who must read the room. In other words, people from the lowest class. In mines, they would be the divers, and in rcenary groups, those who do nial tasks.
To be more precise, ordinary people who don't have neural accelerators.
Sure enough, the information asymtry quickly becos apparent.
"......Why are you so angry since this morning?"
"I guess it's because he got rejected after asking to be taught how to sharpen swords."
"That's not it? I said I'd sharpen swords if he taught
how to use them?"
Hadiya, who woke up rubbing her eyes, picks out only the key points from the brief sentences and identifies the problem.
"Listen here, asking a rcenary to entrust their sword to you. Sharpening swords is always done by oneself. It's the sa as not entrusting one's life to others."
"......Ah shit, I see. So that's why. He said he'd slice up my pretty cheeks."
"You lacked spirit. If you had said 'Play with
however you want~' instead, he would have laughed heartily and given permission."
"Really? Would that work?"
"......Is this guy usually a bit dense?"
"Haha."
When Calix unconsciously let out a laugh, Volga belatedly realized he was being teased and his face turned red.
Hadiya added a detailed explanation as paynt for the teasing.
"You chose the wrong ti to ask for teaching in the first place. Right after such large-scale battles, everyone's nerves are on edge. Why do you think they've been drinking nothing but alcohol for four days straight?"
"Hmm......To soothe their sadness over fallen comrades?"
"That's part of it. But the biggest reason is for themselves. The neural accelerators that rcenaries use aren't as stable as those of knights. If you don't resolve any desire, going crazy happens in an instant."
"......Have you actually seen such a thing? What's it like?"
"I've seen it many tis. You'll see it directly soday, too. So see hallucinations or hear voices, others beco numb and can't feel pain, or conversely, make a fuss over small stimuli. If you're even more unlucky......"
Tap tap.
He taps his temple with his finger as he concludes.
"Your mory flies away."
"......Goodness."
"Right. That's when it gets really serious. They mistake comrades for enemies and attack them, think the inside of the camp is the middle of a battlefield, and overturn and break everything...... So read the room well and act accordingly. You're not official mbers of the rcenary group yet."
"Ooh!"
Just then, an old man erged from the tent behind them, letting out an exclamation.
Soone with quite a handso appearance in Volga's view. He wore leather protective gear full of scratches and wounds, with several daggers stuck in his belt, suggesting he was a veteran rcenary. Especially his snow-white hair added to his dignity.
That's how it seed until he opened his mouth.
"Comrades! My plate, my plate is missing!"
"......Gregor, what do you think that thing strapped to your back is?"
"Oh?!"
At this perfect example of what was just ntioned, Volga speaks in a greatly lowered voice as if shocked.
"That person just now...... Did he call a shield a plate?"
"Don't say 'that person'. Speak respectfully. He's soone who has been active in the rcenary group for a long ti."
"Gregor, the plate is ready! Bring out the food!"
"......"
"Groan......"
While Volga and Hadiya simultaneously let out sighs, Calix gets up from his seat and approaches close to the campfire.
Swish swish.
Though he doesn't know much about cooking, it seems to have reached an edible level, so he sets aside the shield the old man offered in one corner and wipes a wooden bowl with his clothing before ladling porridge into it.
"My shield......"
"It got smaller. They say it'll get bigger again after you finish eating."
"Ha! What a mischievous and wondrous thing!"
The old man buries his entire face in the bowl and eats roughly. His elegant beard quickly becos dirty with grain husks stuck to it.
Having finished his al in an instant, Calix brushes off his beard and returns the shield he had temporarily set aside.
"Thank you, comrade! Truly a magical dinner!"
"Yes. Have a pleasant night."
The process was so natural that Volga stuck out his tongue after confirming that the morning sun was rising over the distant mountain ridge.
"Were you always like this?"
"Like what?"
"When sparring with , you showed no rcy. Looking at what you're doing now, I'd think he was your grandfather."
Of course, Calix has his own reasons.
The first is—
"I have a similar experience."
"......You took care of a grandfather?"
"No. 909."
"909? What's that?"
"......There's such a thing."
Because he rembered the old man who was the leader of the divers during his ti as a mine slave, and who treated him with strict yet gentle affection.
He, too, had suffered from the toxicity of magic stones in his final monts, so those familiar scenes inevitably caught his eye.
On the other hand, the second reason is...... sowhat calculating.
A purple magic stone was faintly glinting at the back of his neck. Though not as vivid as the rcenary leader's, it was definitely the sa color.
Therefore, it was quite natural to ask a related question.
"How strong is the leader?"
"Hmm? Very. Extrely, really strong. I don't know for sure, but it's definitely more than you think. A place called a rcenary group doesn't get high ratings just from having large numbers."
"Really?"
"Of course. He was even offered a knight's title, so that says it all."
Though he doesn't fully believe Hadiya's words, his gaze naturally goes to the hand tap-tapping at the back of his neck.
"That makes sense, considering aptitude limits, you should know the leader's abilities, right?"
"......What are aptitude limits?"
"The maximum performance a neural accelerator can produce. Generally, what knights wear is on a different level from that of rcenaries or soldiers. The higher you go, the stronger you beco, the greater that difference becos. The leader is soone who has reached that maximum as a rcenary. At least as far as I know."
"Would knights be much stronger?"
"Than the captain? Well, not necessarily. From what I've heard, the leader is at least above average among knights. Not nurically average, but in terms of skill. Those above that level...... There probably aren't that many. Why did you want to beco a knight?"
"......"
"Give it up. You can't just believe what's in storybooks. There are countless guys who spend decades groveling while just doing errands for knights. I an, squires."
"Decades?"
For a mont, feeling as if his mind had been read, Calix realizes that the contents of books don't match reality.
"Right. Even if you don't enter under a great knight, just asking to learn from a countryside knight takes that long. Even then, your status has to support it. You'd have to be at least a rchant's son, right? To receive proper teaching, you'd need to obtain a knight's neural accelerator, and to get the implant surgery...... Sigh, even if you went carrying bags full of money, it wouldn't be enough."
"If you started as a soldier, would that also be difficult?"
Repeatedly, Calix's questions reveal his admiration and longing for knights.
Kehehehe.
To this, Hadiya responds with suppressed laughter instead of an answer.
"Sorry, I'm not mocking you. It's just such a dreamlike story. To give you an answer, it might be possible in other countries, but not in the Kingdom of Astria. rcenaries can at least choose which requests to accept, but soldiers are forced to carry out missions. Being affiliated with a specific territory in a place where war is daily life? I think there are only two possibilities. Either you serve in the southern part of the kingdom and beco lazy, or you live in the north and die in wars."
"......I see."
What followed was quiet acceptance and another realization.
Perhaps coming to the 'Antelopes' rcenary group turned out better than expected, along with the thought that he still knew too little about the world—
Calix thought.
***
After that, on the seventh day of staying at the camp.
"You ignorant brat!"
Thwack!
After the war, rchants left, thinking they had nothing left to sell, and conflicts broke out everywhere between existing rcenary group mbers and newcors.
More precisely, the alcohol that would dull their sharp nerves had run out.
Only Volga, who had been secretly leading the newcors, found himself in hot water.
"Please, senior. Just overlook it this once. We're such greenhorns that we don't know anything."
"Ha, these bastards. So you're the leader?"
"Would you call even a mouse's head a head? We're all just mice. I'll give that bastard another beating for what he did wrong. Instead, as an apology......"
"......Sniff sniff, what's this? Where did this co from?"
"Since it was obvious he'd cause trouble, I set aside a little from my portion. This is really the last bit."
Having barely overco the crisis with one drink of secretly saved alcohol, Volga catches his breath while tapping the head of the troublemaker.
"Hey, you stupid bastard, sharpen a senior's sword? What are you? How would you sharpen it? Do you even know how to sharpen?"
"No, I......"
"This guy's completely crazy. I? I what? Do you think he'd trust you and hand over his sword, knowing what you might do with it? If you want to earn trust, prove it in actual combat!"
Although one of the existing rcenary group mbers looked at him with salty eyes, most had the atmosphere that a useful guy had joined.
Feeling good about this, Volga hums a tune as he heads out to the camp's outskirts.
'Won't he give
another useful story?'
Calix, Calix, Calix.
This clever guy.
Though it's sowhat irritating that he's considered to have the best skills among the newcors, his talent for scheming is sothing he has to acknowledge beyond jealousy.
'Right. Each of us has different roles. I lead the newcors, and Calix lives for his own satisfaction. That's how it originally is.'
And sure enough, this clever guy was already getting new story material around the wagons.
Creak-
"So we're leaving tomorrow at the latest?"
"That's right. Unless there's sothing special, rest is at most a week."
"How long does travel take?"
"We do load the wounded on wagons for travel, but long-term journeys are difficult. We'll probably go to the northern kingdom, or an area close to the central-west. At most, it'll take about 4-5 days to arrive."
Calix is helping those doing nial tasks load cargo onto wagons. Those from conscripted backgrounds are also lending a hand, perhaps to repay the help received on the battlefield.
Volga also has so sha, so he tries to demonstrate leadership toward the idle volunteers.
"Hey! You guys co help too."
"......We're rcenaries. It's not sothing we have to do."
"These bastards......"
His pride just gets hurt for nothing.
However, Calix continues his conversation with Hadiya as if he hadn't expected anything, not even glancing over.
"Do we get tested after that?"
"......Test?"
"You told
before. That we're ‘not yet' official mbers. Is it sothing I shouldn't ask about directly?"
At the question that caught her off guard, she remains silent for a mont before soon responding with a bright smile.
"You can ask. It doesn't matter at all. But it's not like we test you after arriving at the destination, as you said."
"Then?"
"The test is already underway."
"......I see. I understand."
"What? What test are we taking, and what did you understand?"
Only Volga failed to understand the 'matter of attitude' and asked again, but just then, rcenary leader Royce entered the camp on horseback, turning heads.
"Marik! A request. We need to have a eting."
"Yes."
Soon, the vice-leader enters the central tent at the leader's call, followed by several figures.
And.
"Looks like we're leaving now."
"Yeah. They're gathering only core personnel for a eting. To finally decide what request to take and where to go."
"Who participates in the eting?"
"Seven people total. Leader Royce, Vice-leader Marik, lee specialist Zahira, healer Ella, the dwarf and technician Bashim, and
and Gregor."
"......You too?"
"I'm the person who scouts the path ahead. Well, I'll be going. Rest up."
After confessing shocking facts to the two newcors, Hadiya approached the person crouched on the ground covered by a shield and called his na.
"Gregor?"
"Comrade, arrows are raining down! We must take cover quickly!"
"Uh...... Comrade Gregor, you have a neural accelerator. You wouldn't be hurt by re arrows."
"......"
"......"
"That's right! You bastards, insulting my comrade! I won't let this stand!"
"......Yes, let's hurry. Please."
A scene that's slightly lacking in style, but can't be completely mocked either.
Regarding this, Volga's reaction is short and direct.
"Calix, did you know?"
"......I was only guessing. The rcenary group wouldn't keep Gregor around for no reason. But I didn't know Hadiya was also core personnel."
"Damn, I didn't know either. Is Hadiya very strong?"
The reality is the opposite.
But there doesn't seem to be a need to tell him, so he shrugs his shoulders to avoid answering.
"Did I act rudely during this ti? It should be fine, right? She said we're being tested."
"Yeah. You'll be fine. You went around trying to learn sothing. You also took care of your comrades."
"Right? I'm soone who gets recognized everywhere."
Then, a little later, the eting ends. The 'Antelopes' load the wounded onto wagons and imdiately prepare to move.
The destination is southwest.
The first mission has been decided.
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