Chapter 6

The Northern City of Wintersteel (1)

The moment he passed through the walls and beheld Wintersteel’s southern plaza, Kaspar was stunned.

There are so many people.

People hurried ceaselessly to and fro, though Kaspar had no idea what kept them all so busy.

The crowd surged across the plaza like dozens of intersecting currents, making it difficult for him to keep his bearings.

Even if everyone from the monastery and the nearby village where he had grown up were brought here, they would not amount to even a handful of the people gathered in this plaza.

“Hear ye! Hear ye! The Solam Brotherhood will begin recruiting here in the southern plaza this evening! If you possess great strength and know how to handle a blade, I urge you to seize this opportunity!”

“Hear ye! Hear ye! The Metal Magic Tower and the Nature Magic Tower will participate in the Magic Demonstration Festival one week from now! Tickets are cheaper if purchased in advance, so do not miss this opportunity!”

“Hear ye! Hear ye! The Festival of Radiance will proceed as scheduled one month from now! Let everyone unite in heart and purpose to prepare for the festivities!”

The voices of criers announcing news from every corner echoed above the plaza.

Groups of boys and girls gathered together, giggling among themselves. Men who had apparently taken offense at something drew their swords and pointed them at each other, while the surrounding spectators cheered excitedly.

Merchants laid out their stalls and competed loudly for customers. Shoppers stopped here and there to inspect the goods, while laborers hurried back and forth with their arms full.

The plaza was filled with such chaotic vitality that Kaspar could scarcely make sense of anything, yet it radiated an intense sense of life.

“Kaspar Hauser?”

A voice came from beside him.

A mature, middle-aged man was alternately glancing between Kaspar and the paper in his hand.

“Kaspar Hauser, correct?” the man asked again.

“Yes. I’m Kaspar Hauser.”

Kaspar greeted him while studying his appearance.

A corpulent build and an unfortunately thinning crown… In many respects, he was an exceedingly ordinary man of his age.

“Pleased to meet you. You’re that little boy from Dantert—no, I suppose you serve the lord now. Hahaha! In any case, my name is Taylor. I came to collect you at the lord’s request.”

Smiling warmly, Taylor extended his hand for a handshake.

“I currently operate a mercenary brokerage here in Wintersteel.”

“A mercenary brokerage…?”

“That’s right. I introduce useful mercenaries to companies in need of manpower.”

Taylor’s wrinkled eyes slowly and openly examined Kaspar from head to toe.

Wintersteel’s military forces were broadly divided into two categories.

The first consisted of knights formally employed by the Council of Nobles.

Equipped with costly arms and armor, they pursued the path of martial prowess through endless training. Every one of them displayed formidable power on the battlefield.

The second consisted of subcontracted mercenaries under the Mercenary Association, who had contracts with the Gateway Defense Bureau and were mobilized whenever necessary.

Although they were not as individually powerful as knights, their flexible range of military specialties and diverse backgrounds made them another reliable pillar of Wintersteel’s defenses.

Redrum, the establishment Taylor operated, was a brokerage that connected such mercenaries with mercenary companies.

After bringing Kaspar inside, Taylor read the lord’s letter of introduction and took out a cigarette.

“How unusual. You lived your entire life without any connection to magic, only for your magical talent to suddenly awaken.”

“It happened by chance.”

“Sometimes fate comes dressed in the clothes of coincidence.”

Hiss.

Orange light briefly flared as Taylor lit his cigarette, and smoke curled upward toward the ceiling.

“First, there’s something you need to understand.”

His slightly languid eyes once again swept over Kaspar.

“Decent mercenary companies—that is, companies that don’t steal your wages and shares, guarantee basic food, clothing, and shelter, and whose captains don’t poison their own members—normally refuse to accept inexperienced recruits.”

“…”

“Of course, someone like you could probably be squeezed into one thanks to the lord’s recommendation. Even so, there are certain minimum procedures that must be followed.”

“What sort of procedures?”

“Your ability. What else could it be?”

Taylor spoke matter-of-factly.

It was a perfectly reasonable argument.

Even a recommendation from the lord merely satisfied the minimum requirement for receiving an introduction through Redrum.

Expanding the range of mercenary companies available to him was a challenge Kaspar would have to overcome through his own abilities.

“I don’t care what you use. Any spell will do, so cast some magic in front of me. I’d like to see what you’re capable of.”

Kaspar looked around.

The office had wooden walls and a wooden ceiling, and it was rather cramped.

“If this place is unsuitable, we can go somewhere else.”

Noticing his concern, Taylor rose from his seat. Kaspar followed him.

When they exited through Redrum’s rear door, they entered a fairly large training yard. Dented iron training dummies hung from wooden posts throughout the area.

“A simple concealment spell has been cast over this yard. No matter what you do here, no one outside will be able to see it.”

Taylor pointed to the least damaged training dummy.

“You said you were a mage, didn’t you? Burn it, freeze it, or smash it apart. Do whatever you like to it.”

He was telling Kaspar to display his abilities without restraint.

Kaspar nodded.

He traced his finger through the air.

His hand moved smoothly, as though he were drawing a picture, and completed a pattern.

“Swamp Fireball.”

—Hummm.

The murmur was so quiet that even Taylor, who stood nearby, could not hear it.

Reality responded with perfect clarity nonetheless.

Viscous energy gathered in the air.

It was fundamentally different from an ordinary fireball’s hot, dry flames.

It formed a sphere composed of poisonous gases, sticky slime, and corrosive corpses—the products of a primordial swamp overflowing with raw life.

It was a sinister mass that seemed capable of rotting away an entire body with the slightest touch.

Once flames enveloped it, the Swamp Fireball was complete.

—Fwoosh!

Green flames burned brilliantly, fueled by the poisonous slime that writhed and undulated irregularly. They surged in every direction as though they might explode at any moment.

“Urgh…”

Taylor groaned and unconsciously staggered backward.

A spell I’ve never seen or even heard of… No, more importantly, what is this repulsive sensation?

Taylor was an experienced broker who had evaluated hundreds—if not thousands—of people.

Yet even he was shaken by the ominous presence radiating from the Swamp Fireball floating above the training yard.

Perhaps that was only natural.

This magic had never belonged to humanity.

It had been created in ancient times by a Rathead of the swamps, who imbued it with the collective resentment of a race that dreamed of annihilating all civilization.

The spell had been passed down imperfectly through oral traditions and revelations.

Now, in Kaspar’s hands, it had been manifested in its complete form.

That also meant the vicious hatred and resentment woven into it since its creation had been fully awakened.

Taylor, a civilized man, could not possibly remain composed before it.

“…What in the world is that?”

As though continuing from Taylor’s muttered lament, Kaspar moved his finger.

The masses of green flame shot toward the training dummy.

They flew as if alive, intertwining and separating from one another as they moved.

Kaspar’s other hand began to move. The fireballs that had reached the training dummy changed their trajectories.

The first fireball circled smoothly around the dummy, leaving a glowing green ring in its wake. The second moved slightly faster, forming another green ring.

The dummy now appeared to be bound by the two rings, while the third fireball spun fiercely above it.

Kaspar silently observed the result before suddenly thrusting one of his directing hands forward.

“Light.”

—Hummm!

A white sun descended slowly and gently toward the dummy, dancing like a whirlwind and leaving a dazzling trail behind it.

—Sizzle!

A violent sound of corrosion rang out.

Unable to withstand the sun contained within it, the dummy began melting out of shape.

—Crack!

At that moment, the third fireball spinning above it transformed from green into a dazzling white light.

It looked as though the sun itself were dancing.

Kaspar smiled.

He had acted unconsciously, but the result had been successful.

Magic could be layered.

At last, the spinning fireball exploded in midair, and a brilliant spectacle of light filled the entire training yard.

The light gradually subsided, and everything returned to normal as though the spectacle moments ago had been nothing more than a mirage.

All that remained were the remnants of what had once been the training dummy and the slowly dissipating green slime.

Kaspar watched the fading magic with wistful eyes before turning his head.

“What do you think?”

“…”

There was no answer.

Taylor stood completely frozen, his cigarette still poised just before his lips.

—Rustle.

A vast number of listings were spread out before Kaspar.

There were dozens at a glance.

This was the range of choices Kaspar’s abilities had opened for him.

Blades of EternityLegacy of the SpearheadBlack FlameBrotherhood of BloodshedAxes of the North

Every mercenary company sounded formidable based on its name alone.

“Now, allow me to help you make your choice.”

Rubbing his palms together eagerly, Taylor launched into an enthusiastic explanation.

He described each company’s captain and size, its primary types of soldiers, and the missions it usually undertook here in the north.

Kaspar examined the list as he listened to Taylor’s passionate explanation.

“There are an incredible number of them…”

Most of the mercenary companies had more than a hundred members. Even those considered relatively small easily exceeded fifty.

Taylor nodded in agreement.

“Moreover, I’ve narrowed the list down to companies that already have mages from the Magic Towers, so you won’t be bored. Building relationships with them will also be a great help to someone like you, who has only just arrived here.”

“Mages from the Magic Towers…”

Kaspar’s expression changed subtly.

“That’s right. If you make a good impression on a mage stronger and more experienced than you, who knows? You might even receive some instruction.”

“Are there any mercenary companies without mages?”

“…What? A mercenary company without a mage?”

Taken aback by the unexpected question, Taylor thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“Companies without mages are rare. I can’t say none exist, but they’ll be difficult to find. Whenever someone raises the banner of a new mercenary company, the next thing they do is search everywhere for a capable mage.”

Mages could strengthen their companions’ equipment with enhancement spells and bombard enemies with devastating offensive magic.

Their efficiency was overwhelming. Even mercenaries who distrusted mages for religious or personal reasons could not disregard their value.

If a mercenary company did not possess a mage, it usually meant one of two things.

Either the company was on the verge of bankruptcy, or some kind of trouble had occurred.

“I’m sure there are a few if I search… But why? Is there some particular reason you want to avoid mages?”

Taylor narrowed his eyes.

Why is he avoiding the Magic Towers?

Even freelance mages with no ties to the Magic Towers did not normally shun them.

On the contrary, because the Magic Towers represented the most orthodox tradition of magic, independent mages usually did everything possible to form connections with them in the hope of receiving instruction.

Then why was the boy before him doing the opposite?

He was desperately trying to avoid the Magic Towers as though they were boiling water.

Unaware of the warning Jacques had given Kaspar, Taylor nearly questioned him further but swallowed his words.

He was a mercenary broker.

His duty was not to interrogate clients about the reasons behind their requirements. It was to find the establishment that best satisfied those requirements.

Don’t forget your role. He must have his reasons for avoiding them. How many people who come north don’t have a complicated past?

If Kaspar were truly wicked and beyond redemption, the lord of Dantert would never have written him a letter of recommendation.

A mercenary company without a mage…

Clearing away his distracting thoughts, Taylor mentally reviewed the relevant mercenary companies and searched for one Kaspar might like.

“Would you mind waiting for a while?”

“How long?”

“Two weeks at the earliest. A month at most.”

“That’s quite a long time.”

“That’s when the contract renewal period begins.”

“Contract renewal?”

“That’s right. Mercenaries sign contracts with companies either for individual commissions or for fixed periods. Quite a few companies will enter their renewal period starting two weeks from now. If we time it properly, I should be able to secure you a decent position.”

Taylor stroked his chin.

“Two weeks…”

“Of course, I’m not telling you to sit around doing nothing until then. Why not take on a few commissions? It’ll help you develop some real combat experience. If you’re interested, I can introduce you to some capable companions.”

Companions?

Kaspar’s ears perked up.