Believers (2)
The free city of Drakal, located in the south-central region of the Ion Continent.
This city, where the headquarters of the Mercenary Guild was situated, was no exaggeration to call a small nation built for mercenaries.
Its entire economy and social system revolved around the mercenary industry, even the city’s mayor was elected according to the Mercenary Guild’s wishes, and its external diplomacy was focused entirely in that direction.
The one who stood at the pinnacle of those mercenaries was none other than the Mercenary King.
In Drakal, the Mercenary King’s power and authority were beyond replacement, and the same held true for the position of secretary-general, who handled practical affairs directly beneath him.
Patrick, the secretary-general of the Mercenary Guild, was no different from the prime minister of the small nation called Drakal.
That man of power came to his office today as usual, and with a solemn expression, performed the ritual that marked the start of his day.
It was an act he had continued for over a year now, but he could not help feeling nervous every single time he did it.
“…Damn it, why in the world is there no cure for hair loss in this world?”
Because with each passing day, the state of his hair reflected in the mirror was growing worse and worse.
To a degree that he could no longer dismiss as mere imagination. ‘Isn’t magic supposed to exist for times like this? What the hell are those damned alchemists even doing!’ Even if he stopped brushing his hair and vented the rage that had built up inside him, nothing changed.
All he could do was keenly feel his own helplessness and accept the cold, hard reality.
And in truth, if one were to be precise, the target of his anger should not have been his frail hair follicles or the alchemists neglecting their duties.
Wasn’t the source of the stress causing his hair loss somewhere else entirely?
“Again, again! Where the hell did he go this time! That damned Mercenary King—!”
The newly appointed Mercenary King, Harley.
It was not as if it had only happened once or twice that his wandering superior suddenly vanished without a trace, but as the one forced to shoulder all the responsibility whenever it happened, Patrick had no choice but to live with stomach medicine to soothe his burning insides.
No matter how much the Mercenary King was essentially a symbolic figure, and no matter how much Patrick had been delegated full authority, there were limits.
In this barbaric mercenary world where martial power took precedence above all else, getting others to follow the orders of a man who maintained his position through connections required a considerable amount of effort.
In such a situation, there was no way everything would proceed according to plan, and whenever it did not, he had to take responsibility for everything and clean up afterward as well… ‘Damn bastards. When he comes back, you won’t even be able to squeak, so why do you only throw a fit at me?’ Patrick, who had been ruffling his brown hair, flinched and carefully lowered his hand.
He could not overwork these already weakened little ones, made fragile by stress, any further.
“…Should I just go back now?”
Closing his eyes quietly, he let out a small sigh.
In truth, he had long since gathered the karma necessary for his return, so if he wanted to, he could go back at any time. ‘But it would be such a waste. The war with the Immortal King that will soon break out will be an enormous opportunity even for me, the secretary-general of the Mercenary Guild.’ A mercenary’s true worth was originally displayed on the battlefield.
And if they actually managed to subjugate the real Immortal King… No, even if Mercenary King Harley died in battle, that would not be bad for Patrick either.
He could take everything worth taking, and when things seemed truly hopeless, simply make a swift escape. ‘Has it been over fifteen years since I came here? I’m starting to think more and more these days.’ Patrick Brown, an Earthling from Ireland.
His unique skill was “Parallel Thought,” which allowed him to split his thoughts into multiple streams.
If used well, it was an extraordinary ability that could allow him to manifest dozens or even hundreds of high-level spells simultaneously, but…
“Whew. If only I had just a little more talent.”
Unfortunately, he possessed not even the tiniest speck of aptitude for magic.
So pitifully little that one wondered if a person could truly be this bad.
To begin with, magic was a discipline that required learning a great deal and depended heavily on aptitude, making it a field among the mysteries that was especially difficult to climb upward in.
No matter how much one strengthened one’s stats and received system correction, there were limits.
Nor was he confident in fighting, so in the end, all that remained for him was the administrative work he had been doing ever since his time on Earth.
The reason his abilities had been recognized and he had been promoted rapidly to reach this position was entirely thanks to his transcendental speed in handling work by using “Parallel Thought.” ‘…Yes, let’s hold on just a little longer. This much is nothing compared to the hardships I’ve endured until now.’ Though he suffered from stress, what he gained in return was far from little.
Just as Patrick, sunk in thought, was reminiscing about the past—
Baaang—!
With a thunderous sound, the door to the secretary-general’s office flew wide open.
Roughly, as if someone had kicked it in.
“Kahahahat! It’s been a while, Patrick!”
“…Sir Harley?”
There was only one person in this Mercenary Guild who would do such a thing.
The current Mercenary King, Harley, who had not been in office for long.
At last, he had ended his long excursion and returned.
“Tsk, the door broke again. I only gave it a light push with my hand. This is the secretary-general’s office, isn’t it? Why not replace the door with something sturdier? What would people think if they saw this?”
“You said the same thing last time, so we replaced it with a solid alloy door…”
Because of that, not only Patrick but everyone who came and went from this office had forearms that were growing thicker by the day.
Should this be called everyday training?
Any frail subordinate who could not even open this metal door could not come to report to him.
“Yeah, and?”
“…I will look for a craftsman. If we search, there should be a way to make it sturdier.”
The free city of Drakal had many mercenaries, and accordingly, it also possessed plenty of highly skilled craftsmen.
If they applied techniques used to make weapons and armor properly, perhaps they could make a door that satisfied Harley? …Though he still had no idea why they had to go this far.
“But where have you been this time, for us to be unable to contact… Whew, never mind.”
Even if he asked, Harley would not answer anyway.
Patrick, who had now figured Harley out as much as he possibly could, decided to simply be genuinely happy that he had returned.
“…Pardon?”
At least until Harley pushed new work onto him.
“Ah, I mean! I’m the Mercenary King in name and reality, aren’t I?”
“Yes, that is true.”
“But looking at things lately, it feels like something’s lacking, you know? Over at the Hubert Trading Company, they’re doing something grand under the company head’s name, so I figured it’d be nice if we did something like that too.”
“No, why would the Mercenary Guild…”
“Now, now, listen carefully. Honestly, in terms of influence across the whole continent, our Mercenary Guild doesn’t fall that far behind, does it? Wouldn’t it be great if we showed something big here and seized the initiative with a bang? Don’t you think so?”
At that impossible-to-follow argument, Patrick squeezed his eyes shut.
Then he swallowed the desperate scream that he could not bring himself to say aloud. ‘Why in the world does the Mercenary Guild have to compete with a trading company that is one of our main clients!’ In the end, was this not simply telling him to mobilize the full power of the Mercenary Guild to spread Harley’s own fame?
Besides, it had been none other than Harley himself who had suggested simplifying the Mercenary King’s inauguration ceremony.
And yet now, he was saying something like this…
“…Yes, then I will begin drafting a plan immediately.”
“Kahahahat! As expected of Patrick. I knew I could trust you from the start. Then I’ll be counting on you to get it done as quickly as possible!”
But as the absolute subordinate here, the words he could say had already been decided.
As he watched Harley’s back while the man departed with a hearty laugh, Patrick once again suppressed the temptation of the resignation letter he had been keeping in his heart. ‘Just you wait. Before I quit, I’m definitely going to land one good blow on you.’ Patrick did not yet know.
That from the moment he had been marked as a capable talent, he had already fallen into a swamp from which there was no escape. ‘He really is quite capable. Once he comes over to Earth, I should try scouting him right away.’ Harley, who had dumped all the work on his subordinate as soon as he returned, stopped by the Mercenary Guild’s dining hall for the first time in a while and began a storm-like meal. ‘Faith does not necessarily have to take the form of religion. Diana gave me a good example, so I should use every method available.’ Just because the work on Hubert’s side was proceeding smoothly did not mean he could leave this excellent advantage unused.
After all, the more varied his routes for acquiring divinity, the better.
“Ah! Sir Harley! So this is where you were!”
Just as he had completely devastated the Mercenary Guild’s dining hall and was coming outside—
Harley encountered an unexpected person.
A woman who flew in like a butterfly embraced him.
A beauty with healthy, coppery skin characteristic of southerners, brown hair braided into several strands, and black eyes shining like obsidian.
“Ah—these perfect muscles… ehehe!”
“Huh? Misty?”
“…Hah! Ahh! Sir Harley! I truly wanted to see you!”
It was Misty, the great shaman of the Kalkos Tribal Alliance and the daughter of the former former Great Chieftain.
She, who should have been in the south, had come all the way to Drakal, where the Mercenary Guild was located.
“What brings you here, young lady?”
“Oh, really, Sir Harley. What could be more important than attending the Fighting King by his side? The task you entrusted to me has just been completed as well, so I came all this way to report on the current situation.”
“The task I entrusted to you?”
Harley blinked for a moment, then abruptly nodded.
Come to think of it, he had left her in charge of handling the aftermath in the south, which had been thrown into chaos by the rebellion of the former Great Chieftain Pantheon, and reconnecting it systematically.
Because they had been apart all this time, he had completely forgotten. ‘Huh? Now that I think about it, isn’t this an opportunity?’ He tilted his head while stroking his chin.
Branches of the Hubert Trading Company had been established on the Tribal Alliance’s side as well, but due to the closed nature of the region, their effect was not as great as in other places.
But if it was him, who possessed the authority of the Fighting King…
“Uahahahat! Good, then I suppose it’s about time I stopped by the south again!”
“Ah! Really? I’m sure everyone will be delighted! They all joined forces and worked hard together so as not to be a burden to you, Sir Harley!”
“Is that so? That’s unexpected. Usually, in this sort of thing, there are always bastards who stir up trouble. I take it there weren’t any like that?”
“Ah… You mean the kind who don’t listen and act however they please?”
With those words, Misty’s gaze turned cold for an instant.
But that sign vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Clinging to Harley as if nothing had happened, she smiled brightly and answered in a cheerful voice.
“At first, there was a bit of noise, but it’s fine now! Once we picked a day and had a serious ‘conversation,’ everyone understood our intentions.”
“Oho? I thought I might have to hold a little ritual to clean things up, but that’s unexpected.”
“Hehe! I couldn’t possibly trouble you unnecessarily, Sir Harley.”
At her words, Harley smiled in satisfaction.
If even the traffic control had already been completed, then it would not take very long.
“Krahahat! I like it very much! I should give you a reward or something!”
“A… reward?”
At the large hand stroking her head, Misty’s face flushed red.
She even gulped down her saliva without realizing it, but Harley was already busy reviewing his future plans. ‘Yes, just the mercenary world and the south alone aren’t bad. In terms of scale, they may not match the Hubert Trading Company, but the purity of their faith should be higher.’ Trust contained not in monetary gain like Hubert’s, but in the weight of the names Mercenary King and Fighting King.
That was the very asset Harley had built up until now.
“Ah, I’m in a good mood! Today, we’ll have a meat party all day long! Hey, Misty. Call everyone who came with you from the south! I’ll pay for it all! Uahahaha!”
“Ah! Yes, yes!”
In high spirits, Harley only stopped his restaurant-conquering spree that day after he had completely run five establishments into the ground.
It was a declaration announcing the king’s return, more certain than any advertisement.
***
“An abnormal phenomenon?”
“Yes. Just in case, I verified the information through various routes over the past while, and at this point, I think it’s safe to say it’s certain.”
A building owned by Heterosis, standing in the middle of Seoul.
In that space, where blackout curtains had been drawn to block out the sunlight, two people were conversing.
“The number of awakenings reported domestically in recent days has surged to more than three times the usual amount. The Transfer Investigation Division of the Ability Management Bureau seems to be taking the situation seriously as well. But this doesn’t seem to be a problem limited to our country.”
“It is a phenomenon occurring worldwide?”
“Yes. And that is only counting reported cases, so in reality, it should be considered even higher.”
“Hmm.”
At Jin Soran’s report, Heinz II stroked his chin with a hardened expression.
He had just returned from Auterica and visited this place without much thought, only to be met with an unexpected report at the perfect time, leaving his mind complicated. ‘I was planning to focus only on increasing my believers for the time being. What is this all of a sudden?’ Of course, creating believers for Heinz II was as easy as eating cold porridge.
No, strictly speaking, there was no need for him to do anything separately at all; everything was already effectively done. ‘Because Heinz II, as one of divine blood, stands at the very pinnacle of all vampires to begin with.’ The world of vampires was a thoroughly hierarchical society.
And the existence of a vampire of divine blood, who was not merely of sacred blood, the progenitor of an existing bloodline, but reigned above even that…
Was outside the standard—literally a god itself. ‘The Immortal King Hans was a similar case.’ And though the degree differed, the same was true of Heinrich, the angel and saint of the main god; Harris, the high elf who was the representative of the World Tree; and Hella, the Sixteenth Demon King of the Demon Realm. There was no need for him to intervene separately. ‘Wait. Now that I think about it, the time when this incident began…’ At that moment, one hypothesis suddenly flashed through his mind.
The time when he had germinated divinity, come into contact with the secret of the world, and observed “that being” coincided exactly with the starting point of this abnormal phenomenon.
Could this truly be a coincidence? ‘There’s no way it is.’ Something was happening.
However, there were limits to what he could do immediately.
In the current situation, the best course of action was simply to grow his divinity as quickly as possible and prepare for the future that was to come.
“Mm?”
But at that moment—
Heinz’s eyebrow twitched as he sensed something.
“Lord? Is something the matter?”
Jin Soran, who was beside him, asked cautiously, but he, already deeply immersed in something, did not answer.
He merely gazed somewhere far away with eyes sunk coldly. ‘This signal is…’ A response from one exceptionally thick strand among the intricately tangled threads of divinity.
From someone who had left for another world not long ago.
It was a danger detection signal sent by Kang Taesan.