Chapter 39

At first, the mercenaries hesitated. After all, wasn’t Isella the daughter of the Mercenary King they had once trusted and followed? But when she faced their sneers and open disregard, she merely nodded.

“If you’ve got complaints, let’s settle it by the rules of our world. If you beat me, you can take over as the new Mercenary King.”

The mercenaries who had dismissed young Isella as insignificant charged at her, but the outcome was her overwhelming victory.

One day before arriving at the Demon King’s castle, while sitting around a campfire sharing stories, Isella recounted the event.

“It felt like every mercenary in the world came at me,” she said with a hearty laugh. “Isn’t it hilarious, Warrior? They’d fawn over me because I’m the Mercenary King’s kid but secretly looked down on me.”

Slapping Adam’s back in amusement, she let out another peal of laughter.

Adam’s expression darkened slightly, but she ignored it and continued.

“Still, since I’m the one in charge now, I ought to improve conditions for mercenaries before I step down, don’t you think?”

“One against three hundred? That’s impressive…” murmured Kyrillos, who had been quietly listening.

“Our god can handle one against seventeen,” Kyrillos added.

…Of course, I couldn’t fight at all.

I once joked to Adam that I’d fought seventeen opponents at once, but it was obviously a lie. Unless I were one of the seventeen, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.

But somehow, they believed Adam’s words seriously.

“If you meet her, you should kneel and surrender immediately, Adam.”

Adam silenced Kyrillos, telling him to stop spouting nonsense.

Kyrillos, in turn, launched into a story about how terrifyingly strict and old-fashioned his grandfather was, which had driven him to flee to the imperial palace as a knight apprentice.

The group, who had slain beasts and taken on village missions on their journey here, found themselves opening up to one another.

The lighthearted conversation continued until they drained the last of the beer they had been given as thanks for their help.

The next day, they all died in the Demon King’s castle.

* * *

Anyway, Isella was a deeply responsible person. As the Mercenary Queen, she took her duty to lead her people seriously, and she wasn’t the type to ignore a well-mannered letter.

After carefully crafting the letter in elegant cursive, I rose to show it to Adam.

Glancing out the window, I realized the sun was already setting.

I had spent half the day agonizing over what to write, and the afternoon had slipped away without notice.

Clutching the completed letter, I went to find Adam. Just in case, I activated synchronization to prepare for any unexpected situation.

Before entering, I took a small, calming breath.

I needed to organize my thoughts and ensure I left no trace that might make Adam suspicious.

Though I preferred to avoid it, this was the only way to grasp his genuine feelings, as Adam always smiled through his discomfort, concealing his true thoughts.

Masking my ulterior motives, I stepped into his office.

When I presented the letter to Adam, he read it carefully before nodding.

“Hmm, it’s good. For someone like her, this should convey the message well enough.”

He murmured to himself as his gaze lingered on the name “Isella” at the top of the letter.

A faint smile crossed his face, as if he had recognized a familiar name.

Feeling a strange sense of unease, I asked him, “Have you met the Mercenary Queen before?”

It seemed unlikely.

In this iteration, she hadn’t been one of his companions.

“Yes, our paths crossed once,” he replied.

“What? When?” I asked, my eyes widening in surprise.

“It’s from a past so distant that I can hardly remember it,” Adam replied with a soft smile, handing the letter back to me. The flickering candlelight cast wavering shadows across his face, making his smile seem fragile.

It might have been my imagination, but Adam looked as though he might cry at any moment.

That expression was so sorrowful that I momentarily lost the ability to speak.

When I fell silent, the room was filled with a heavy stillness.

Adam, seemingly lost in thought, didn’t appear inclined to break the silence either.

After hesitating for a moment, I finally spoke.

“Then it’s likely that she’ll respond positively to the proposal, right?”

“Yes. If it’s her, she certainly will.”

But then, why had he refused initially? Could it be that they knew each other but hadn’t parted on good terms?

Rekindling such a strained connection must be uncomfortable.

‘Would it be better to find another former companion instead of Isella?’ I thought, groaning inwardly as I hit a roadblock just short of success.

I could feel Adam’s gaze resting on me.

“Do you want her to come?” he asked in a voice as gentle as ever.

No, it felt even softer than usual.

I opened my mouth to answer, but then it hit me.

Adam wasn’t asking me.

He believed that all of this stemmed from the will of the god behind me.

A flicker of irritation sparked within me.

Adam thought only of his god, not me—even though we were the same being.

How was it possible to feel jealousy—or was it isolation—toward my own self?

I struggled to rationalize my feelings and tamp down the bubbling frustration.

Fiddling nervously with the ring around my neck, I replied, “Well, that depends on the Mercenary Queen’s response. If she doesn’t come, there’s nothing to feel one way or the other.”

“She will find Eveline’s proposal appealing. Opening the gates of the Demon King’s castle to wandering mercenaries is bound to be a tempting offer.”

“Then why did you refuse at first?”

For a moment, I almost mistook Adam for someone who disliked Isella or mercenaries.

But his earlier reaction didn’t seem like longing, nor did it seem like he was eager to see her.

“Because, regardless of individual personalities, gathering mercenaries is likely to cause trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Hmm. Much like the crown prince, His Majesty the Emperor takes a keen interest in my every move. He might see the act of gathering mercenaries as grounds for treason.”

“Treason? Just for associating with mercenaries?”

Even saying the word felt heavy.

Treason?

Did the Emperor really suspect Adam of harboring rebellious intentions?

To me, Adam seemed indifferent to everything. The idea of him orchestrating rebellion was absurd.

If he had truly desired power, he would have gone to the capital and claimed a title openly long ago.

“His Majesty likely assumes that my refusal to accept a title is because I wouldn’t settle for anything less than a high rank.”

Wow. That sounded paranoid.

“Then why don’t you go to the capital, Warrior? They’d reward you for defeating the Demon King. At the very least, you’d be granted a small estate. They might even offer a baronetcy.”

“If I were to stay near people and the power within me were to go out of control, there could be casualties.”

…What was he saying?

It sounded as though he was seriously claiming to have a dark dragon sealed in his left hand.

Could Adam, of all people, really say something so absurd?

I wanted to rub my eyes to ensure the person in front of me was truly Adam. But his calm tone and serene expression were unmistakably his.

His expression remained unchanged, as tranquil as if he were simply discussing breakfast.

Narrowing my eyes, I studied him, trying to discern if he was joking to mess with me or genuinely serious.

Adam noticed my skeptical gaze and chuckled softly.

“Did you really believe that?”

So it was a joke!

I glared at him, letting my irritation show.

This warrior clearly found amusement in teasing his maid! Otherwise, there was no way he’d say such a ridiculous lie with such a straight face.

Now, I fully expected the usual message to pop up:

[Your warrior is telling a lie.]

Yet, the notification that appeared stunned me:

[Your warrior is telling the truth.]

“…”

It should have been the former.

But the messages continued to confirm the truth.

Given the system’s nature of delivering information without any falsehood, there was no way Adam’s words were a lie.

The only plausible explanation was that I’d missed an earlier message while talking to Adam.

Probably.

‘Does he really have a dark dragon sealed in his left hand?’

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Who was to say someone with such a calm demeanor couldn’t harbor a secret like that?

Deciding to accept it with an open mind, I chose to let it go.

At that moment, another message appeared, breaking through my spiraling thoughts:

[Your warrior is thinking about his ‘companion,’ Isella.]