Chapter 26
Mark’s Merchant Company
Whenever the carriage jolted along the rugged forest road, Kaspar’s light body swayed with it.
“Hold on to something!”
The hulking man snapped irritably.
‘How am I supposed to do that when both my arms are tied up?’
Signs hung from the large crates inside the carriage.
[Mark Rayham’s General Goods Company]
Upon seeing the sign, Kaspar realized who these people were.
‘I was captured by traveling merchants.’
Traveling merchants served as the lubricant that kept necessary goods circulating throughout the Empire.
They brought village produce to the cities and manufactured goods from the cities to the villages.
They generally fell into two categories.
There were those who reached for medicine upon finding someone unconscious—and those who added another entry to the bottom of their merchandise list.
If one had to categorize Mark Rayham’s General Goods Company, they belonged to the latter group.
Rattle.
The hulking man sitting across from him narrowed his eyes fiercely.
After a series of movements bordering on acrobatics, Kaspar managed to grab a rope attached to the wall of the cargo carriage.
He could not see the others.
Only Priest Miley was there, tightly bound a short distance away.
“Where are the others?”
Kaspar asked.
Instead of answering, the hulking man stared at him.
Kaspar groaned and curled forward. His stomach churned from the kick he had just received.
“What’re you gonna do if you know, bastard?”
“Hey, Bugs. Take it easy. He’s merchandise.”
A narrow-eyed, weasel-like man beside him grinned as he restrained the hulking man.
“This idiot can’t even understand the situation he’s in, Rex. Does he think he’s our master or something? Are we supposed to answer just because he asked us a question?”
“Whoa, easy. He’s still better than the ones who go completely berserk, Bugs.”
After calming Bugs down, Rex looked at Kaspar.
“What’s our young friend’s name?”
“...Kaspar. Kaspar Hauser.”
Kaspar barely managed to sit upright before answering.
“Oh, Kaspar! My name is Rex. A shame we had to introduce ourselves under these circumstances.”
Rex placed a hand over his chest and bowed. His exaggerated gesture and expression made it obvious that he was mocking Kaspar.
“To answer our dear Kaspar’s heartfelt question, the companions who were lying unconscious with you in the village are over there.”
Rex pointed toward the carriage following behind them.
Through the gaps between the horses and drivers, Kaspar saw Aezk and Silverwolf wrapped from head to toe in chains.
Kaspar inspected the rope binding his own body. The difference in treatment between a rope and those heavy chains was immense.
“Oh, that?” Bugs said. “Your body was burning up, so Merchant Master Mark just told us to tie you with a suitable rope.”
Bugs spat onto Kaspar’s shoe.
A servant?
“But listen here, bastard. You’re in a different position from those guys back there. Mercenaries and mages fetch a good price, so even we can’t treat them carelessly. But servants are another story. Get on my nerves one more time, and I’ll stab you and toss you beside the road.”
“Come on, Bugs. You always make everything sound so damn grim.”
“But I’m serious.”
“He’s merchandise.”
“We can just say he loosened his ropes and tried to escape, so we had no choice but to kill him. What’s that man going to do about it?”
“Wow. You really are something else.”
Even Rex looked slightly appalled by the murderous atmosphere Bugs continued to create.
“Still, Kaspar, this might sound strange coming from me, but you should consider yourself lucky that we happened to pass through that village. This forest isn’t kind enough for a frail servant wearing nothing but thin cloth to survive.”
Rex winked.
‘I see.’
Kaspar finally understood why they kept mistaking him for a servant.
The problem was his clothing.
He was not wearing armor or an ornate robe, but ordinary everyday clothes.
No one would take him for a mercenary, so they had naturally assumed he was a servant.
Things might have been different if he had Rathead’s staff, but he had left it at the inn.
That was why they had only tied him with ordinary rope.
Moreover, his body was radiating such intense heat that they had likely been reluctant to bind his entire body, settling for only his hands and arms.
‘Then why did they mistake Priest Miley for one? Ah.’
Apparently, they had mistaken him for a servant as well.
Priest Miley seemed to have fought his own desperate battle out of sight. His outer garments had been almost completely shredded, while what remained was caked in blood and dirt.
“Keep your mouth shut, and you get to ride in our carriage. Don’t, and we stab you before dumping you in the bushes. Simple, right?”
Kaspar let Bugs’s words go in one ear and out the other.
‘My constitution is useful at times like this.’
How ironic.
Perhaps this was simply the natural order of the world.
Even the same animal felt different depending on which part one touched with one’s eyes closed.
The constitution Kaspar had once considered a divine punishment had unexpectedly presented him with an opportunity.
Had he been wearing heavy armor or a magnificent robe, they would never have restrained him so loosely.
Kaspar wiggled his fingers.
He would have no difficulty drawing something.
Meanwhile, the two men before him continued their conversation.
“Is this bastard ignoring me?”
“Come on, Bugs. Maybe it’s because you keep talking about stabbing him and acting all bloodthirsty. Why don’t we offer him to a shrine instead?”
“Wow, Rex. You’re even worse than me. You want to sacrifice him to the fairies?”
“Think about it. If we offer him to a winter shrine, we’ll be safe for at least a few days. Isn’t that more merciful?”
“Excuse me, but I have a question.”
Bugs and Rex, who had been laughing among themselves, turned toward him. Kaspar addressed them cautiously.
“Is there a mage employed by this merchant company?”
The two men looked utterly baffled. Their expressions plainly asked why he was bringing that up out of nowhere.
“No.”
“We don’t have one. Why?”
Kaspar let out a quiet sigh at their answers.
That was somewhat disappointing.
***
A forest road.
A halted procession of carriages.
Upon closer inspection, most of the carriages had been scattered haphazardly across the road.
“Boss!”
Rex and Merchant Master Mark were suspended in midair, held aloft by vampiric roots.
Throb. Throb. Throb.
Bugs clung desperately to Kaspar’s trouser leg.
His face looked as though he had been beaten into the dirt in an ogre fighting pit.
“I’m not your boss.”
Kaspar carefully tried to pull his trousers away, worried that Bugs might smear blood or snot on them, but Bugs’s desperation proved stronger.
“I—this ignorant fool—failed to recognize that you were a mage and spoke unforgivably to you! I apologize a hundred times over! Please, just spare my life! Please!”
Every guard employed by the merchant company had been beaten to a pulp and lay unconscious.
The tips of the roots were embedded in Rex’s and Mark’s ankles, sucking something from them.
Bloodvine Feast.
It was the spell that summoned vampiric roots—the same spell Sael had cast in Huntingville.
Now it had been recreated through Kaspar’s hands.
The roots were savoring the blood of their captured prey.
At regular intervals, the two men’s miserable screams rang through the forest.
Bugs’s face turned deathly pale. He gripped Kaspar’s trousers even more desperately, as though they were his only lifeline.
“Boss!”
No, anyone could see that Bugs was the older one here.
Kaspar sighed.
‘Although I suppose it does look rather disturbing.’
Kaspar inwardly muttered as he watched Rex and Mark grow increasingly pale.
Even though this was a vastly weakened version of Sael’s spell, the roots’ greed had not diminished in the slightest. Apparently, it was simply their innate nature.
Just as they had when Sael used them, the roots ravenously sucked out everything inside their victims.
The two men’s faces grew steadily paler.
Kaspar had no intention of taking their lives.
Deciding that this was enough, he dismissed the vampiric roots.
Rex and Mark fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth and trembling.
They had only survived in this condition because Kaspar had adjusted the roots’ size and number.
If he had perfectly reproduced Sael’s spell, the two men would have been reduced to mummified husks long ago.
Kaspar gently stroked the flushed roots, now swollen with blood.
They stretched out obediently, accepting their summoner’s touch.
‘These roots are incredibly voracious by nature. If I don’t intend to kill the target, I’ll need to control them more carefully.’
Having finished that thought, Kaspar turned toward Bugs.
“Mr. Bugs.”
“...Y-Yes!”
Bugs, who had crawled over on his knees to examine the other two, flinched and raised his head.
“Do you know how to drive a carriage?”
Bugs nodded rapidly like a woodpecker.
“What? Oh, yes! Of course I do! This unworthy Bugs was once charged with maintaining a knight’s carriage! You may not know this, Lord Kaspar—no, no! Of course you know—but when you maintain a carriage, sometimes you have time to practice driving it, and you even get to ride in it yourself. Even the late Sir Seraid once—”
Kaspar raised a hand, cutting off the endless answer.
“I understand. From now on, you will drive the carriage. Before that, bind everyone else with the chains that were used on my companions.”
“Y-Yes!”
“And when your merchant master wakes up, please tell him that while I appreciate the kindness he showed me, my circumstances do not permit me to extend the same generosity.”
Bugs bowed repeatedly, saying that he understood.
He swore loyalty to the great and merciful mage who had spared him and vowed never to harbor any disloyal thoughts.
It was not a vow Kaspar particularly needed.
The carriages began moving again.
Kaspar, Mark, Rex, and Bugs rode in the lead carriage.
Of course, their positions had now been completely reversed.
“So you’re saying you never intended to sell us as slaves?”
Mark, a formerly plump middle-aged man who had now become noticeably thinner, flailed his entire body in alarm.
“How could you say such a thing?! Even if we had ten lives, we wouldn’t survive doing that! At least not here in the North!”
“Uh... Why?”
“Because everyone traveling through the North eventually has to pass through either Wintersteel or the Gateway Citadel. What if we encountered a mercenary there who recognized them? Worse yet, someone they were personally acquainted with? Who would guarantee the lives of mere merchants like us then?”
“I see.”
“That bastard Rex made it up to frighten you, Lord Kaspar. Shrines usually accept any suitable animal as an offering. Offering up a person would be utterly outrageous.”
Bugs spoke as though his greatest lifelong regret was failing to beat Rex senseless sooner.
“On the honor of our merchant company’s master, I’ll set aside an entire day to discipline this bastard. I’ve been meaning to do something about that reckless mouth of his for a long time.”
The explanation made sense.
“We’d be much better off taking them to Wintersteel or the Gateway Citadel and receiving money as a ‘rescue fee.’ That alone pays quite handsomely.”
“As I recall, you were talking about offering me to a shrine earlier.”
All three men froze simultaneously.
Bugs soon turned a murderous glare upon Rex. Mark, having realized what Kaspar meant a moment later, joined Bugs in glaring at him.
Under the combined assault of their gazes, Rex visibly shrank into himself.
Even Rex nodded vigorously, as though agreeing that the other two were entirely correct. The terror of the vampiric roots appeared to have left a deep impression on him.
“Please believe us, Lord Kaspar. We’re not so reckless that we’ve completely lost our minds.”
It was something they had said out of sheer desperation.
Kaspar did not answer.
In truth, it made little difference to him whether they had intended to sell everyone as slaves or collect a rescue fee for the priest while selling the others.
Structurally speaking, a rescue fee and the price of a slave were essentially the same thing.
Leaving his conclusion for later, Kaspar began asking about the things that had caught his interest during their conversation.
“This is the first time I’ve heard anything about winter shrines. Would you explain them to me?”
Only after confirming several times through indirect questions that Kaspar did not intend to sacrifice them to a shrine did Mark and Bugs breathe sighs of relief and begin explaining the shrines of the Eternal Forest.
“Hmm.”
“They say that long ago, this place was divided between the Masters who desired spring for the forest and those who desired winter. The two sides opposed one another.”
“I’ve read about that in books. Are you referring to the Fairy Queen and the Witch of Night?”
Kaspar calmly listened to them while organizing the information in his mind.
“So, put simply, a shrine is an altar dedicated to honoring a Master of the Forest? And these shrines are scattered throughout the forest?”
“Y-Yes. Every Master of the Forest has at least one. After all, they were once worshipped as divine spirits.”
“Then what does ‘winter’ refer to?”
“Well... that would take a while to explain.”
“Summarize it.”
At Kaspar’s request, Mark nodded as though he had guessed correctly.
“Precisely. Those two Masters represent spring and winter respectively. Returning to the subject of the shrines, the forces of spring are relatively gentle. But the forces of winter are incomparably fierce and savage, so anyone wishing to cross their lands must demonstrate sincerity. You offer them a sacrifice and ask them to grant you passage through their territory.”
“So it’s similar to paying a toll.”
“Almost exactly. If someone tries to sneak through without offering a sacrifice at the shrine, they may incur the wrath of the shrine’s guardian or the territory’s overseers. That is why merchants prepare live sacrifices in advance.”
“Hmm.”
“And experienced merchant companies like ours always carry maps showing the locations of those territories and shrines. We use them to plot the optimal routes for our journeys.”
Kaspar raised his collar to shield himself from the swirling snow and compiled everything he had heard.
Whether aligned with spring or winter, the Masters of the Forest had subordinates beneath them: Familiars, shrine guardians, and territorial overseers, in that order.
Their strength generally followed the same hierarchy.
Until they arrived at White Eagle Citadel, Kaspar asked all manner of questions, and the trio answered every one of them faithfully while sweating profusely.
“So you move the merchant company through the territories of spring or the gray zones whenever possible, avoiding winter territory? And you offer sacrifices only when there is no alternative?”
“Even guardians and overseers can sometimes be in a foul mood for no particular reason. In those cases, disaster might strike before you even finish presenting the sacrifice. Avoiding them is always the best choice. You appear to be a mage permanently employed by a mercenary band, Lord Kaspar. If possible, I recommend that you avoid encountering them while carrying out commissions. They are powerful mages.”
“Powerful mages?”
A short while later, the carriage reached White Eagle Citadel. The trees and undergrowth gradually thinned, and its magnificent walls and gate came into view.
Kaspar’s eyes sparkled.
“N-No, Lord Kaspar! I did not mean to belittle you. I only meant that one can never be too careful...”
Mistaking Kaspar’s intentions, Mark hurriedly tried to retract his words, but it did not matter.
Kaspar did not care what the three men thought of him.
He was simply a curious person.
“Lord Kaspar, well...”
When the citadel came into view, the trio grinned awkwardly and rubbed their palms together.
“Could we possibly ask you to show us leniency just this once?”
A single word from Kaspar could send them to either heaven or hell.
They might call it a “rescue,” but they had transported everyone while binding them in chains and ropes.
They would have no defense if Kaspar told the guards that they were slave traders.
The trio continued rubbing their palms until they grew warm.
“It is true that the three of us treated you disrespectfully, but if you show us mercy just this once, we will never forget the favor. We swear in the name of the Radiance that whenever you require the help of our merchant company, we will rush to your aid.”
Kaspar silently stared at the three men.
Their mouths grew drier with every passing second.
What should they do?
Was that not enough?
Ah!
“A-And if there are any materials you require for your magical research, we will scour the entire North to find them for you.”
It was a bargaining chip they had desperately racked their brains to produce.
The deal was struck.
Kaspar nodded.
‘I was already considering letting them go, but...’
What ultimately swayed him was the fact that they had treated Aezk’s and Silverwolf’s survivors.
After beating the trio and checking on his companions, Kaspar had discovered that they had already received emergency treatment.
Merchant companies were constantly exposed not only to magical beasts and monsters but also to all manner of diseases.
Any experienced merchant company naturally kept medical supplies in its carriages.
The emergency treatment provided by Mark’s Merchant Company had been remarkably skilled.
Although the wounds sustained in battle had not been treated perfectly, they had been stitched up exceptionally well.
Without these merchants, Kaspar’s severely injured companions might have lost their lives to the North’s bitter cold.
Of course, it changed nothing if the merchants had only treated them to increase the amount of money they could demand.
Thanks to them, Kaspar and his companions had crossed the Eternal Forest safely and reached White Eagle Citadel alive.
“What a relief!”
“Thank you!”
“Thank you so, so much!”
The three men appeared to have aged considerably in that brief span of time.
Kaspar silently watched the trio celebrate before speaking.
“...I wouldn’t exactly call it a condition, but there is one thing.”
The three men, who had been holding hands and spinning around in a celebratory dance, stopped dead.
Wasn’t it over?
Their six eyes trembled anxiously once more.
“Yes, Merchant Master. If possible, I would like one containing as much information as possible about shrine locations and dangerous monsters.”
Kaspar strongly felt that he needed at least one such map.
If he could not avoid the threats while remaining at the citadel, he would at least have to prepare for them.
Kaspar looked at the trio.
“That map you mentioned earlier—you have one with you, correct?”
“Would it be possible for me to obtain it?”
“...A map?”
A short while later, the carriages of Mark’s Merchant Company entered White Eagle Citadel.
“Hehe! Thank you, Lord Kaspar!”
“If you ever need anything, please make sure to call upon Mark’s Merchant Company! Ah! Why are you pinching my back? Lord Kaspar! Lord Kaspaaaar! Bugs keeps pinching my back!”
“You son of a bitch!”
Shouting all the while, Mark’s Merchant Company disappeared into the settlement like the wind.
Several hours later, morning arrived.
Deep within the citadel stood the chief steward’s office, a place ordinary people were not permitted to enter.
Normally, the chief steward would have washed, straightened his clothes, and prepared his morning report for the lord of the citadel.
Today, however, he wore a dumbfounded expression.
Kaspar and Priest Miley sat side by side across from him.
“Silverwolf annihilated. Every member of Aezk seriously wounded.”
The chief steward read from the report in his hands.
Huntingville had been wiped out, and Priest Miley had returned without being able to settle there.
Yet the reality was different.
The contents written below did not describe a miserable failure for which the returning mercenary bands deserved punishment.
Instead, they listed achievements so extraordinary that the mercenaries arguably deserved rewards.
“You repelled the Black Druid Order... and a Familiar?”
“Yes, Chief Steward.”
Kaspar answered calmly.
Priest Miley nodded firmly beside him.
“In the name of the exalted Radiance, I also testify that the words spoken by the man beside me are true.”
“...Are you physically well?”
The chief steward felt empty and dizzy.
Based on the opening lines alone, the commission had clearly ended in failure.
At the chief steward’s question, the priest thumped his chest.
“By the mercy of the Radiance, my body is perfectly healthy. Hah!”
In reality, Priest Miley had been engaged in a magnificent struggle against a single lost monster inside the village barn.
At the moment of crisis, he had been fortunate enough to fall asleep when the obsidian garden manifested. Thanks to the subsequent treatment provided by Mark’s Merchant Company, he had awakened without any significant aftereffects.
Naturally, Miley had no idea what had truly happened, and his faith had deepened yet again.
‘Even within that dangerous forest, the Radiance is always watching over and protecting me...!’
The chief steward silently stroked his beard and stared at Miley, who had become lost in solitary reverence.
‘Even so, how am I supposed to believe this?’
Ordinarily, he would have dismissed the story as a pathetic excuse invented by mercenaries who had failed their commission.
Yet an unrelated third party, Priest Miley, was testifying to it with absolute conviction.
He could not simply declare it false.
But if he believed it, his own common sense could not accept what had happened.
Familiars were among the most dangerous beings currently lurking within the Eternal Forest.
Most people believed that they, along with the Masters of the Forest, were merely remnants of myths long lost to history.
Yet even a cursory examination of the old records in the citadel’s archive revealed clear accounts of battles fought against them.
Every one of those records reached the same conclusion.
A Familiar was an entity that required more than a dozen mercenary bands to be deployed simultaneously, supported by mages and launching an all-out assault with everything they possessed, merely to fight it on equal footing.
‘...They defeated one with only two mercenary bands? And that was after facing a senior member of the Black Druid Order?’
The chief steward once again looked at Priest Miley’s broad face.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No.”
The priest had nothing to gain from giving false testimony on their behalf.
The chief steward decided to acknowledge that, under the present circumstances, believing them was the more rational choice.
“Kaspar Hauser.”
Kaspar raised his head and met the chief steward’s gaze with clear eyes.
“You have done exceptionally well.”
“Thank you, Chief Steward.”
“I will send physicians who normally treat only the nobility to care for the wounded. They will receive the finest treatment available.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Chief Steward.”
The chief steward shook his head.
“I would like to inform the lord of the citadel immediately and commend your achievements, but you must all be exhausted. Once the other mercenaries return, it would be more fitting to hold the awards ceremony together. We shall postpone it until then.”
“I will follow your judgment, Chief Steward.”
Kaspar bowed politely.
The chief steward regarded him with a peculiar expression.
‘A mage possessing such humility...’
Having encountered only arrogant mages until now, the chief steward looked at him with newfound interest.
“For now, return to your quarters and rest. Once everything is ready, I will summon all of you and formally commend your achievements before everyone.”
Having finished speaking, the chief steward rose from his seat.
Kaspar and Priest Miley also stood to return to their respective quarters.
“You have accomplished something difficult to believe. Such treatment is only fitting.”
However, the awards ceremony mentioned by the chief steward was never held.
Even as time passed, the other mercenaries did not return.
Not a single one of the mercenaries sent to search the Eternal Forest ever came back.
Only Aezk and Silverwolf returned.