Chapter 33
Declan spread his hands wide.
"Since your skills have already been verified, with just a bit of training and an oath, I'd like to appoint you as the centurion and aide of my unit. It's a fair offer, isn't it?"
"Are you saying you plan to organize mercenaries into a regular army?" Philip asked, narrowing his eyes.
Having lived on the front lines for a long time, Philip knew how preposterous that sounded. Declan nodded calmly, his eyes gleaming with honest ambition as he looked at Ian.
"With war looming, it's indeed possible. Other lords may disdain mercenaries, but I certainly do not. Veterans of the battlefield make excellent forces, provided they're given proper compensation and opportunity. Under my command, you can rise in rank based on your achievements. And I assure you, I will never abandon you."
"Hmm..." Ian stroked his chin, clearly uninterested in the offer but intrigued by Declan's attitude.
Declan was sincerely trying to recruit mercenaries as his own. And Declan's method seemed effective, considering Patton's demeanor, which almost seemed like he was Declan's aide.
"Has the lord given his permission for this?" Ian asked.
"Of course. He said to go ahead if I wanted to. It's not a loss from my father’s perspective since we'll be leading the charge." Declan replied.
"So, we're to be the cannon fodder,” said Ian.
"I won't deny it. But if we survive, we'll become a force with a strong claim. I'll make sure of it. Despite appearances, I'm not entirely foolish." Declan tapped his temple with his index finger.
Ian nodded slightly; even to Ian, this bastard son seemed anything but stupid. From his casual demeanor to his straightforward yet substantial speech, his gaze and expressions were all notably impressive for a country bumpkin.
Of course, Ian found neither the charm nor the proposal appealing. He had no interest in ascending the ranks in this backwater, especially knowing how the upcoming war would end.
Despite his true feelings, Ian responded calmly. "I can't give any answer right now."
"Why not?" Declan asked.
"Because we have unfinished business to attend to first. It does not seem like a minor proposal that can be accepted while leaving previous commitments unfulfilled," said Ian.
"But the crocodile is already... Ah, right. Your arrival in Orendel wasn't coincidental. You came to fulfill a mission," said Declan.
Good that he catches on quickly, Ian merely shrugged.
Declan might think he's the one fishing, but Ian had been considering using him from the moment they met, to aid in completing their mission. He had patiently listened to Declan's persistent proposals for this very reason.
"If I help with your mission, would you consider my offer?" Declan asked.
"That depends. I'm not even sure if you could be of any assistance," Ian replied.
"If your business is within this city, I'm sure I can be. There's nowhere my influence doesn't reach, except inside the castle." Declan assured with confidence, his gaze on Ian filled with goodwill and ambition.
Ian met his eyes calmly, indifferent to whether this was Declan's true nature. If he was as noble-hearted as he appeared, learning the truth about his father would be enlightening. If not, things would only get easier.
"I regret to say... that would mean disclosing our mission," Philip interjected at the right moment, his inherent earnestness proving useful.
"Ah, the unspoken rules of mercenaries. Hmm, Patton?" Declan turned his head.
"Eh, my lord." Patton smiled.
"Sorry, but could you step back? And take those curious ones loitering around with you," said Declan.
"Yeah, well, sure. You heard him, scurry off like mice. Let's just drink." Patton turned away, and a small space formed around Ian's corner seat.
Ian looked at Declan, "The details might bore you."
"You know how to pique someone's interest. Go on, I'm all ears,” said Declan.
"We're here to find someone." Ian pulled out a half-rotten identification badge.
"Dave...?" Declan's eyes narrowed.
"As you can see, he was part of Orendel's regular army," said Ian.
"Given the state of this, he's likely dead," said Declan.
"Correct. He was transporting prisoners. Finding the person who issued the transport order is our first objective," said Ian.
"And the second? To find out what happened to him?" Declan lowered his voice.
"I can't divulge the details, but it was an unjust death." Ian shook his head.
"So, there are corrupt individuals within the army?" Declan asked.
"Well, you might know better than I do. What do you think?" When Ian inquired further, Declan scratched his cheek.
"Embarrassingly enough, I'm not well-informed about the internal affairs of the lord's domain. The command falls to my brother and father, as they are the rightful heirs and successors," said Declan.
"In that case... you won't be able to offer any help," said Ian.
"I didn't say I couldn't help." Declan smiled, a look that Ian interpreted as seizing an opportunity.
"I'll look into it for you. My personal curiosity has been piqued, so you won't be disappointed." Declan’s eyes sparkled with eager intent as he faced Ian.
"If you're offering, I won't refuse,” said Ian.
"And once you find the person who gave the orders, what then?" Declan asked.
"That will depend on the circumstances at the time. As you know, I'm a mercenary. A mercenary will do whatever it takes... to complete a mission," said Ian.
"Just wait a bit while you remove this stench. I'll return with good news." Pleased with hearing what he wanted, Declan beamed a bright smile.
***
The ‘bit’ Declan mentioned was indeed short. Declan returned to the inn as soon as the sun set the following day. Now, in what had practically become Ian's designated seat in the corner, Declan sat down facing Ian.
"As I looked into it, just like you said, something was off," said Declan.
Thanks to the mercenaries who cleared space around them and chatted noisily near the entrance, their spot became a secluded area amidst the crowd.
"What part did you find peculiar?" Ian smiled.
"Dave only had a sister, and she believes he's still alive. She thinks he went to guard the prison in Agel Lan. Since there was no way to confirm, she had no choice but to believe it. Know what's interesting?" Declan leaned toward Ian, his blue eyes shimmering.
"Along with Dave, there were six soldiers tasked with transporting the prisoners. And all of them were either orphans or had deceased parents. It was the people who could disappear overnight without anyone tracing their whereabouts properly. Their siblings and friends believed they had migrated to Agel Lan," said Declan.
Ian nodded slightly. It wasn't a surprising story. The lowest of the free citizens. Like pawns in chess, they were always the first to be sacrificed in any scheme.
"So, who gave the orders for their transport?"
"A man named Bradley. A commander and my brother's right hand. Not exactly friendly with me. In fact, it's the opposite. He dislikes speaking formally to me, so we hardly talk." Declan's cheerful voice belied the gravity of his words as he locked eyes with Ian.
"So, what will you do now?" Declan asked.
"Have a little chat. Intimately," Ian replied.
"You think it'll be easy to get what you want from him?" Declan asked again.
Ian placed a dagger on the table.
“This is an excellent tool for conversation. It has a magic that makes even the most reticent talk."
"I'd like to see that magic in action. Mind if I join?" Declan burst into laughter.
"Not at all, if you're the one arranging the meeting," said Ian.
"Ah... this is getting interesting. I'm finding myself more and more fond of you. It's been a while since I've met someone I can talk this easily with. By any chance, are you of noble birth?" Declan asked.
There it was again. Ian chuckled.
"Unfortunately, no," said Ian.
"Actually, that's a relief. As you know, half of my blood is that of a freeman. Alright, I'll take my leave first. I have a lot to ponder. Once everything is set, I'll send someone for you. It won't take long." Declan stood up.
"I'm too curious about how your mission will end," said Declan.
"So am I," replied Ian.
With a sunny smile, Declan disappeared among the mercenaries, buying them drinks and putting an arm around their shoulders like a friend.
"Skilled at getting things done without lifting a finger,” Ian spoke up.
"From what I see, it seems you sir have a knack for getting people to do your bidding." Sitting down at Declan's place, Philip commented.
"Let's continue where we left off." Ian glanced at him with a smirk.
"Yes." Philip quickly resumed speaking.
In fact, he had been tailing Declan all day at Ian's command. Surprisingly, Philip had a knack for surveillance and infiltration. His naturally fearful nature shone in such tasks.
"The young lord came back earlier than expected, cutting our conversation short. But there were no significant peculiarities. The young lord's movements were exactly as he had described earlier. While at it, I also heard about his reputation." said Philip.
"That's quite the progress, doing more than what was asked," said Ian.
"I had no choice but to listen. The people of Orendel all seem to like the young lord. They think it's because of his mixed blood... Anyway." Clearing his throat, Philip lowered his voice.
“His mother passed away a few years ago. Although the Marquess had taken him in as his son, he was not used for significant matters. The eldest son, Mason, seemed to view the young lord as a nuisance, and there was concern that the young lord would be assigned to the most dangerous battlefronts and expected to return dead,” said Philip.
"It's a typical dysfunctional family," Ian thought, nodding.
Philip added, "From what I've seen, the young lord doesn't seem to be corrupt. If he were, he's hiding it very well."
"Yes, he's hiding it well if that's the case. It doesn't seem like he worships chaos or darkness... at least not yet." Ian took a sip of his beer.
"We'll see if that remains the case after everything is over." Ian could already sense a whiff of blood in the air.
***
Leaning back on the bed, Ian opened a research journal he had retrieved from a tomb. Within days of arriving in Orendel, he had secured the best room for himself by resolving the village's miscellaneous requests without conflict and becoming friendly with the waitress.
Maids and waitresses at inns and taverns always treated him comfortably, likely due to his non-threatening appearance and calm demeanor, though the kindness seemed excessive. Nonetheless, it allowed Ian some quiet, private time.
'The priest I met after a long time opened a new path for me. At first, I vehemently rejected and was angered by his words, but I eventually listened. I had to. It was the truth. Everything I had believed to be true until now was a lie. This world was no different...'
Conrad's research journal was like the memoir of a madman.
While it contained formulas, magical equations, and rules he had organized, none of it made sense to Ian. Of course, this world operated on these nonsensical principles, but Ian reaffirmed he would not learn magic in this world's ways. Even with his improved intelligence, he couldn't understand things that fundamentally made no sense.
...Well, to the people of this world, I, who learn and use magic through skill points, must be even more absurd, thought Ian.
Ian carefully read through Conrad's descent into darkness, becoming a tool of the abyss. As expected, the one who summoned him to the underground tomb was in Agel Lan. Though not named, Ian knew who it was.
In time, Conrad was to emerge as a vanguard and minion, intending to corrupt the entire kingdom of Agel Lan. The ultimate goal was to summon beings of the void, akin to erecting the Black Wall, as part of their grand scheme. They desired a life governed by ancient gods, neither demons nor deities. To the corrupted, this was seen as the only way for the world to return to its primal order, despite being dismissed as the teachings of a cult.
This world is so insane, it's hard to know what's true, Ian was pondering this when Philip peeked in.
"Sir, are you asleep?" Philip whispered.
He then continued, "The place for the discussion has been prepared."
"He's quite efficient, isn't he?" Ian smiled, closing the journal without regret.
It was time to confront those who sacrificed their followers to the darkness, with a sword and a fist.