Chapter 138

This was the enhancement quest for Intimidation.

As soon as Seojin read the initial clues, he set a simple principle for his actions:

1. Lead the given situation, the war, to an overwhelming victory.

2. Make the "significant NPCs," who disregard Robron Welrose, admire him in some way or another.

Intimidation was the key. It meant either crushing them with overwhelming force or showing a sort of undefiable dignity. And the rugged-faced man sitting in front of him now was one of those significant NPCs.

"Did you say 2000 gold?" asked Tron, a veteran mercenary and leader of a mercenary group. He was extremely puzzled.

"Is that not enough?" Seojin queried, seeing Tron's reaction to the mention of 2000 gold. It was a substantial amount, but Tron was cautious.

"I need to hear the details of your request before I can decide," Tron stated firmly. Even a hefty sum like 2000 gold wouldn't be worth it if it cost their lives.

'After all, the price of our entire mercenary group participating in the battle is 1000 gold. What could he possibly want us to do?'

The tension doubled. Tron recalled the high-born lineage and character of the man before him—a young noble from a prominent family.

"You are all mercenaries, and only one thing can move you: a reward fitting the difficulty of the task."

"Even so, we do not accept tasks that demand our lives," Tron countered.

"Naturally, it's not something so absurd."

Even though other nobles might have accused him of blasphemy or other offenses for such a statement, Robron just laughed as if he found it amusing.

"But you may find my request similar. Just hear me out."

"Very well," Tron agreed reluctantly.

"You'll need to go to Middleline's camp," Seojin instructed.

"No, that's…" Tron started to refuse outright, but remembering the warning, he halted.

"I'm not asking you to die. Right now, you're fighting for the Black Rose, only because I paid in advance. So in the next war, standing on Middleline's side wouldn't be strange," Seojin explained.

"That's true," Tron conceded.

"I want you to betray me. I broke the contract terms first. You never heard that I, Robron Welrose, would be the commander, and outraged by this fact, you return the remaining payment and leave the battlefield."

This was an acceptable condition. It wasn't an assignment like a spy or a commando mission. The problem was the reward for the task, which was excessively high considering the difficulty involved.

"Will that be all?"

"Of course not. 2000 gold is just the advance. I'll pay another 2000 gold upon completion."

"You have yet to state the full request though?" Tron inquired.

"I need you to spread a rumor, Mercenary Leader." Robron said heavily.

Instantly, Tron understood what this clumsy commander wanted.

"Spread a false rumor, you mean?"

Robron nodded briefly. At that short affirmation, Tron shook his head.

"Impossible."

His calculation was quick.

No soldier would be fooled by such ludicrous talk.

'This foolish Robron might be deceived by a simple rumor but certainly not Middleline.'

"I'm sorry, but the mission is too risky. If we're caught…"

"Your entire mercenary group would be beheaded."

"If we flee with all our might, some may survive, but our main members, including myself, would surely perish."

The pursuit of a noble house was not something mercenaries could escape. If caught, it essentially meant the dissolution of the mercenary group.

"The target of sedition isn't ordinary soldiers."

"Then it's all the more impossible."

"What if you spread something convincing enough? Not just rumors, but something that will seem actually useful."

"I'll have to hear what this bait is to make a judgment."

He couldn't dare decide before hearing it.

If he was tempted by money and were to accept, he might either have to pay a severe penalty or carry out the dreadful task.

"Then hear it out and decide. I'll call you again tomorrow. You may leave now."

Robron rose from his seat first. The Grandis mercenary leader left the commander's tent with a troubled look.

Following him, the strategic advisor Smith entered.

"You're here? You heard the conversation, I presume."

"I did."

"I'd like to hear your opinion."

"I wouldn't do it."

His answer was firm, but his underlying tone was complex.

"It's not something you can feasibly do, but what about me? The immature scoundrel of the Black Rose?"

"…If it does indeed go as planned, it might be worth a try. Commander, may I ask one thing first?"

"Of course."

"You seem to have changed a little."

"I'll leave the answer to that question to your judgment. Isn't it your job to assess people?"

Smith had the role of a strategic advisor during wartime, but in peacetime, he held the authority to promote all soldiers of the Welrose family.

"And what about the thing I instructed?"

"I've got it."

Smith handed Robron a thin, worn book.

The title inscribed on it was The Empire's Seven Stars, which was a common tale of heroes.

* * *

In the Camilton Empire, there were heroes known as the seven stars. From a knight with a sword, to a sniper with a bow, and a mage with a staff. They were not confined by their professions and saved the empire amidst chaos. With them, the era of heroes ended.

In a world without turmoil, all that remained for the heroes was the honor of being symbolic figures. Reinhardt could not accept this. He was a hero, his massive hammer was always eager to crush his enemies. Unlike the other honored heroes, Reinhardt willingly relinquished his place among the stars.

He became a mercenary, crushing his enemies solely for money. To borrow the expression from The Empire's Seven Stars, he became materialistic.

"The legendary mercenary, known for his overwhelming strength, solely motivated by money, his whereabouts now shrouded in mystery."

That was Reinhardt's known existence. Many sought to employ him, but he vanished after a mission two years ago. Everyone said that when this veteran of reversal steps onto the battlefield, the opponent should rightfully turn tail.

And in this weighty atmosphere, Grandis mercenary leader Tron's jaw dropped.

"…Could it be that you have a connection with Lord Reinhardt?"

He was annoyed to be summoned first thing after the first battle had ended. But that annoyance had long since melted away like snow.

"Connection?"

"Yes."

Now Tron's eyes were filled with awe, not because of Robron, but because of the legendary Reinhardt.

He was an idol for all mercenaries.

Like Tron, anyone living by the sword would have the same reaction.

However, Robron simply let out a dismissive scoff.

"Hardly. If that were the case, there'd be no reason to request your services."

"…Then."

"I'm thinking of borrowing his name. What you need to do there is to spread rumors about me. Rumors that the incompetent Robron is falsely claiming he has recruited the legendary Reinhardt."

Tron's gaze fell. A reaction was mixed with intense disappointment and a slight annoyance.

"Is that displeasing to you?"

"…Do you want an honest answer?"

"If I were to punish you for your honesty, I wouldn't be here after yesterday's event."

"It's displeasing. He's essentially our idol. If Lord Reinhardt and the Emperor were in danger at the same time, I would choose to help him."

"A dangerous statement."

"You said honesty was permitted."

"It doesn't matter. I understand quite well. It makes for an even better excuse."

"…Excuse?"

"For violating the contract and exploiting this legendary name held sacred among mercenaries. Isn't this the ideal pretext for all of you to abandon Welrose?"

"Well, that is true but…"

"Since when do mercenaries refuse a task because it's disagreeable?"

"You know us too well."

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here with you. There's nothing as reliable as trust bought with money."

After a moment of silent contemplation, Tron spoke.

"The advance payment is 2,000 gold, right?"

"Absolutely."

"I'd like to hear more details. Exactly what we need to do."

"There's still some time before the battle begins."

Just as rest was predetermined, the start of the battle also had a set time.

"Skipping a meal?"

"For 4,000 gold, it's worth missing a meal."

A mercenary skipping a meal before battle? It was as good as if he had already come to a conclusion.

Seojin smirked.

"Good. Let's finish this as quickly as possible."

* * *

Seojin came to realize that Robron Welrose truly a child of a marquis house. The support he had was undeniable. He could casually spend thousands of gold without any formal reporting. Interestingly, this was not the family's wealth, but Robron's personal funds.

'Typical of a marquis family. Fortunately, he's doted on by the family head.'

However, that was only as the cute youngest son. Marquis Welrose never allowed him near any significant family responsibilities.

'It's clear now how trivial this war is.'

It all seemed like a game, and now Seojin felt the reality of it all. This task held no real value for the marquis, explaining why Robron was in charge.

'Honor, as they say, is often just a façade.'

Honor was important, yes, but as important as it might seem on the surface, very few nobles sincerely placed importance in it. More often than not, it's the image of valuing honor that mattered.

Seojin stood at the edge of the hill, noting the stark difference in today's battle conditions compared to yesterday's.

"How's the situation?"

"It's a tight standoff. Thanks to the commander's careful attention…"

"It's your judgment that deserves the thanks. All I did was sit here with a serious demeanor."

"…Thank you," Smith, who was also observing the battlefield, replied with an awkward tone. He found it hard to accept the commander's transformation.

'Had he always been like this…'

He pondered if it wasn't too late for change. Perhaps starting from now, recognition for his abilities could gradually build.

'But it's still too premature to decide. I must watch over him a little longer.'

It might just be a fleeting change of heart. After all, the shift in Robron's demeanor was subtle and uncertain. What mattered most were the forthcoming actions and their outcomes.

"How are the other preparations progressing?"

"Everything is moving smoothly, as per your instructions, commander."

"Your contribution has been significant."

"…I appreciate your high praise."

"Take a look now." Seojin moved a few steps forward, silently gazing at the battlefield. After a moment, he remarked, "I wouldn't have thought to utilize the terrain like that."

"It's part of my duty."

"I should have left this to you. If only I had acted sooner, we might have reduced the casualties."

"…Why now?"

"There is a shameful reason. An egoistic, self-centered reason." Seojin's voice lowered, his eyes somber as he watched the battlefield and the soldiers succumbing.

"We're down to half our forces. Even street thugs would hardly win a fight outnumbered two to one, let alone in a battlefield strewn with swords and spears."

"But considering it's a territorial war…"

"I am aware of your competence as an advisor, Sir Smith. However, I ask you, is an overwhelming victory possible in this battle?"

"…It's impossible."

This answer was expected.

Even achieving a standard victory was difficult. Given the predetermined nature of the battle, they were constrained to a set space and time, rendering many strategies ineffective. Overcoming this numerical disadvantage in a conventional manner was out of the question.

"Yet, I am determined to make it happen. Hence, the urgency. We must win this seemingly unwinnable battle."

"That means…" Smith's expression had been grave for a while. He had a rough idea of Seojin's intentions.

"Did you intend for our own forces to fall?"

It seemed unthinkable. The situation stemmed from the real Robron's incompetence.

But Seojin's response was…

"Exactly."

He met Smith's gaze directly and affirmed it.