5. War of the Ten Houses
In the distance, I spotted the coachman waiting for me, his horse tied to a tree. When I waved, he finally noticed me and came running frantically.
“High Executor! You’re here at last?! I was worried… sir…?”
The coachman’s face went blank when he saw those following behind me. He didn’t come to his senses even as I brushed past him.
It was indeed a sight rarely seen in one’s lifetime. Four ogres loaded onto a wagon and a band of forty-three bandits.
“High Executor? What in the world is this….”
I skipped the explanation. I merely issued an order.
“We’ll need to slow the carriage. Some are walking, and we have to drag the ogres along too. Depart for Evolg Castle at once.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“Hey, Al! Get in the carriage. I have something to discuss on the way. Oh, and cover the ogres with the cloths we brought. We can’t let anyone see them. Don’t be stupid enough to block their air holes, though.”
Al, the bandit chief, boarded the carriage with a disgruntled expression, albeit obediently. Under the guidance of the visibly confused coachman, the carriage began to move slowly. I sat before Al, arms crossed, as he looked me up and down openly.
It was somewhat amusing that he maintained such an attitude despite having come this far without any resistance. He didn’t seem capable of figuring it out on his own, so I intended to point out one important fact.
“Wolves have an image of being solitary animals. Probably because of the expression ‘lone wolf.’ In truth, they’re just drifters.”
A question mark formed on Al’s face. Just moments ago he had been trying to draw his blade and spewing nonsense at every chance, but after the successful ogre hunt, he seemed to acknowledge me and listened quietly.
I continued talking and began taking various things out of my bag and laying them out.
“But did you know? Sometimes such a drifter wolf devours an entire pack whole. Then the alpha of that pack is driven out, becoming yet another wounded, lonely wolf.”
Still, Al’s face remained full of question marks. It seemed he would never understand unless I said it outright.
“So? What are you trying to say?”
“Didn’t you say you’d become the High Executor? I’ll make good use of your bandit crew.”
“What…? What?! This bastard is the High Executor? The more I hear it—!”
The moment the bandit chief tried to draw his sword from his waist, I subdued his hand with one of mine. With my other arm, I pushed the bastard’s jaw up and pinned him against the wall.
Thud! Crack!
“Kuk…!”
Al’s eyes shook violently.
“There. Since your brain and patience both seem lacking, let’s talk like this.”
“Kuk… you s…!”
“Calm down. How can someone about to become High Executor have such a filthy mouth?”
.
.
.
Al put on a bewildered expression. His instincts were telling him. He didn’t understand, but there was nothing wrong with what this wretch of a High Executor before him was saying.
Al let the tension drain from his body, sneering triumphantly. His pride made him click his tongue with mockery.
“You’re not normal either.”
“Yeah. I’ve lost my mind a bit.”
The ridicule vanished from Al’s face as he read my serious gaze.
“I realized it after dying and coming back. You can’t survive in this world without going mad.”
Arhan chuckled and withdrew from him. Sulking, Al leaned back against the carriage wall and sat down heavily.
It was a complete defeat, both in ambush and in momentum.
* * *
We had plenty of time to talk. The explanation didn’t take that long. I simply told him how we would swap our identities, and what he would gain in exchange for giving up his bandits.
Lavish meals enjoyed while residing in the lord’s castle, an exclusive maid, the courteous treatment of attendants. Even the honor and power of serving as the lord’s direct advisor.
There were no lies.
I merely didn’t mention that the lord’s approval was required for everything.
As I had experienced in the past, the head of House Evolg and his sons would not grant any authority to a newly appointed High Executor.
The former bandit chief, the man who would soon become High Executor, sat with a vacant expression. His unfocused pupils gazed into empty space, occasionally twitching into a grin. It was quite a sight to see him tilt his head one moment, then light up at the sight of the slime dough the next.
The irregular rattling of the carriage felt somewhat more stable now. Probably because we had reached the road.
We were drawing closer to House Evolg’s castle.
I began moving my hands faster. There was an item I needed to complete before we arrived.
[Yonseok! I told you to knead slowly! No, now it’s too slow! No, faster! Stop! Yes! Perfect!]
What I had been diligently kneading following Isaac’s guidance was slime mucus. It was a coastal slime inhabiting the emerald sea of the southern House Coszannian’s domain, characterized by a mucus body as transparent as water.
Added to it were doppelganger bone powder and various supplementary ingredients.
Especially in the bone powder ground from the spine, the doppelganger’s mana was condensed.
It was a supremely high-grade material impossible to obtain without the tacit approval of the Great Scholar Adriel.
Which meant—
Through this powder, one could utilize the doppelganger’s ability.
Just as Al had been most concerned about when I made the proposal.
If we sent Al in like this, claiming he was a High Executor who had studied for twenty years in the Tower, he would be found out immediately. His scar-ridden face was clearly that of a bandit chieftain who had spent thirty years roughing it in the mountains. Anyone who wasn’t an idiot would find it suspicious.
But if this dough was completed, the “face” could be solved.
As for the body, I could just insist he was a scholar who liked exercise. I’d brought a Tower of Knowledge robe, so the clothes would pass roughly.
The information House Evolg had about me was simply that I was the sole survivor of the ruined House Abanas, and a young, promising scholar.
He was a bit taller than me, but that much was fine.
I had brought it for an emergency, but I hadn’t expected it to be so useful.
The moment the bone powder was perfectly mixed into the slime, I poured in the ingredients beside me in order and stirred rapidly.
Gypsum powder to increase fixation so it would maintain its form for a long time.
Purifier to remove toxins.
Fragrance to eliminate artificial smells.
And minor yet practical tips from Isaac, which I would never have known, were added in real-time.
[Add some of that mineral oil. It’ll give a cloudy yet strangely skin-like texture. Oh, mix in some dirt too. The bastard’s skin is dark.]
Once the dough was complete, I turned it over onto my face without hesitation.
As if it were my own skin, the slime’s thin layer of flesh adhered transparently to my face. The doppelganger’s mana touching my skin replicated my facial structure and hardened.
Wearing the mask upside down, I looked out the window while waiting for it to harden.
Beyond the farmland stretching ahead, House Evolg’s castle was visible.
I tapped on the window connected to the coachman’s seat and gave an order.
“Good. Stop briefly in this forest.”
“Yes! Understood!”
The carriage stopped, and I heard the exhausted bandits slump into place. The ogres’ snore-like sounds joined them.
I removed the hardened mask and flipped it over.
As if I had flayed my own face, a perfectly replicated visage rested in my hands.
Al’s eyes widened at the sight.
I spoke as I descended from the carriage.
“Just stick it directly on your face shortly. Bring that and follow me. Hey! Drag the ogres over here quickly! If they happen to wake up, we’re all dead.”
At my words, the bandits who had been lying down urgently rose and dragged the wagon.
Pako grumbled and followed behind me.
“The scholar’s completely become a bandit chief now.”
“Bandits? We’re a mercenary company now.”
The place they pulled the wagon to was a forest extending alongside the farmland.
I didn’t intend to go deep inside.
At the damp entrance to the forest, in the overgrown brush, we dumped the four ogres onto the ground.
They lay sprawled out, drooling sticky, snot-like saliva, proof that the drug’s effect was certain.
The stench and their breath still hadn’t grown on me.
And the ogres would feel the same. The thick scent of humans clinging to them when they woke.
Just as I was about to insert sleep incense, sprinkled with medicine, into their nostrils to extend their slumber.
[Brat, collect some of that snot.]
[What would I use that filthy stuff for?]
[Tsk… Even dog dung is worth collecting if it can be used for medicine.]
It was a material I had never seen in Al-Khazaf.
It didn’t seem to have many uses, but following Isaac’s advice wouldn’t hurt.
If not for the lack of time, I would have wanted to draw their blood too.
I was holding back for fear it might stimulate the ogres’ survival instincts and wake them.
[Unless someone touches them, they’ll sleep soundly for at least five days.]
The great plains before Evolg Castle, and the long forest beside it.
I gazed satisfactorily at the snoring ogres lying sprawled out, then turned around.
“Now… the setup is complete.”
I gestured for Al to come behind the bushes, then began stripping off my clothes.
“W-why are you taking off your clothes…?”
Al hesitated, stepping backward.
“So you want me to waltz into Evolg Castle dressed as a scholar?”
I chose the most inconspicuous clothes from what I’d brought and put them on. Then I carefully attached the mask to Al’s face.
I snatched the leather armor Al was wearing and draped him in a Tower of Knowledge robe instead. Fortunately, he could pass for a robust scholar. It was fortunate the robe was generously sized.
I, too, donned Al’s armor and achieved the look of a proper mercenary.
Al, tapping his face and making all sorts of expressions, hesitated before opening his mouth.
“You… do you really think this makes sense? Do you think me pretending to be the High Executor will actually work?”
Now of all times?
Did I say I liked this guy earlier?
Let me correct myself. He was a damn annoying little punk.
But I scoffed and drew my sword.
I had taken the sword along with the leather armor earlier.
Pathetically watching the flinching, frozen Al feel for his waist, I flashed the blade at him.
Upon confirming his reflection perfectly merged with the mask, Al’s jaw dropped as he touched his face.
“Could you not make that expression with my face? It disgusts me.”
“…Ahem.”
Only then did Al come to his senses, coughing dryly and averting his eyes. Seeing him smile broadly, he seemed quite satisfied.
When we stepped out of the bushes, the waiting bandits’ reactions were no different from their chief’s.
“Chief…?”
“Hah, there are two scholar bastards…?”
“The shitty face has multiplied!”
Watching the last bastard clamp his hand over his mouth, I clicked my tongue and wrapped a bandage around half my face.
With a shabby overcoat on top, it was a perfect disguise.
“Listen up. From now on, this guy is High Executor Arhan, and I’m your chief, Al. The moment we arrive at Evolg Castle, you become the Al Mercenary Company. Anyone who doesn’t like it, step forward now.”
“….”
The murmuring bandits hesitated, then nodded.
“Good, then it’s time to depart for Evolg Castle.”
The coachman seemed to sense that the High Executor’s build had changed somehow, but when the High Executor snapped at him with fiery anger, asking what he was looking at, he hurriedly whipped the horses toward the castle.
* * *
Ha… should I just kill him here?
I found the High Executor fighting bandits and brought him back, but couldn’t I just insist he died along the way?
I was seized by a serious dilemma.
Unlike Isaac, there was no way to block out Al’s chatter.
“You know what I’m going to do first when we reach the castle? I’m going to tell them to kill you. To hang the commander of that mercenary company. You hear me?”
From the moment he checked his face and boarded the carriage, Al had been cackling and pointing at me.
Regardless, the carriage passed through the checkpoint in an instant and entered Evolg Castle.