Chapter 16
The morning after summoning Idelin, somehow knowing where they were, servants from the castle had burst into the inn where Sian’s group was staying. Then they carefully made the exact proposal she had wanted, asking if they could take charge of the castle’s security.
“Things are going too smoothly, aren’t they? What would they have done without someone like me who combines beauty, intellect, and leadership?”
Sian laughed out loud and poked Carl in the side. After one slip of the tongue, it seemed he was doomed to be dragged around for life by a woman with beauty, intellect, and leadership. Carl looked at Sian with narrowed eyes full of discontent.
“However.”
“Yes?”
Carl added a negative conjunction. Sian responded.
Carl swept his hair back over his shoulder. Although he seemed awkward with the hair constantly tickling his chin, outwardly he looked every bit the prim and proper lady.
“Isn’t it too early to conclude that things are going smoothly?”
Carl looked around. In front, beside, and behind Carl in his female disguise and Sian were burly men who looked unmistakably like mercenaries.
“Group living wasn’t part of the plan.”
“…”
Standing where their voices wouldn’t be heard by the men, Sian and Carl simultaneously looked towards the gate in the inner wall. Sian clicked her tongue, full of bitterness.
“The mercenary industry has been in a slump for so long… We were on our way to Ivarid looking for work as soon as we heard about the incident, so I guess other guys would do the same…”
This was truly unexpected. They thought only they would be called since they had personally visited the castle, but it seemed Carl’s panicked retainers had gathered all the mercenaries who had gathered in Ivarid.
“What are you going to do now? With so many people, it won’t be easy to find and take that thing without being noticed.”
“For now, we should be satisfied with being able to stay inside the castle, and think about future plans later…”
Just as Sian answered that, the gate in the inner wall opened with a loud creaking sound, unclear whether it was grand or ominous.
The men who had been noisily chattering gathered in front of the gate, some neatly, some slouching like thugs. Sian and Carl also mingled with the crowd.
A man in his 30s walked out between the opened gates. He was lightly armed.
“Greetings, mercenaries. I am Yurian Avers, serving as squad leader and chief of inner wall security under His Highness Prince Carlston Klaus.”
The man introduced himself in a tone that was oddly condescending, seeming both polite and impolite. Sian pressed her face close to Carl’s shoulder and whispered.
“Is he your direct subordinate?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember him.”
“Just listening to him, you’d think he was a direct subordinate…”
Sian pouted at Carl’s indifferent response. Yurian continued speaking.
“Welcome to the glorious Ivarid, mercenaries. You all probably know about the situation in our Ivarid. To put it briefly, due to our severely lacking manpower, we’ve reached the unprecedented point of hiring so many mercenaries at once.”
“Skip the long talk and let’s discuss payment first.”
“That’s right. We’ll guard it so tight not even a mouse could get in, so just make sure the pay is good.”
As soon as Yurian finished speaking, impatient mercenaries shouted from here and there. Sian inhaled sharply, full of trouble.
“It would be problematic if not even a mouse could get in…”
Carl twirled his wig with his fingertips, looking indifferent as if it were someone else’s problem.
“Since each group has different numbers and responsibilities, we can’t set the same compensation for everyone. Each group should choose a representative to enter one by one, and the financial officer will consult with you, set the compensation, and write up a contract.”
“Good, then let’s go in.”
That’s right, let’s go in.
The mercenaries acted as if that was all there was to it. As if there was no need for further talk, they tried to push past Yurian and enter the castle.
“Whoa, whoa, maintain order. Do you dare to know what kind of place this castle is…”
Yurian blocked the mercenaries, full of discontent.
“He’s been well trained.”
Carl tilted his head, flipping his hair, and muttered with satisfaction. Sian asked with just her gaze, “Is that so?”
Anyway, albeit in a chaotic manner, the mercenaries followed Yurian’s words and formed groups to determine their order of entry. Carl and Sian also mixed in with the mercenaries who had gathered and started lining up, looking for their place.
“Female mercenaries?”
A man who accidentally bumped into them frowned upon seeing Carl in his female disguise and Sian.
“Did you pour milk into your bones during your growth spurt? You’re freakishly tall for a woman.”
The rough-looking unknown man was quite tall and well-built. But Carl in his disguise was even taller. With his line of sight above the man’s, bruising his ego, the man picked a fight without hesitation.
Tsk, men will be men.
Sian, who had experienced this kind of situation more than once, clicked her tongue. She was about to open her mouth on behalf of Carl, who would be unfamiliar with such situations.
“Got a problem?”
Carl, with his arms crossed and a seductive smile, raised his voice and shot back. Sian looked at Carl with a puzzled “Huh?”
“If you’re upset about being smaller than a woman, you should have poured milk into your bones too. Why pick a fight with me when you’re the one who stopped growing?”
Carl added naturally, maintaining a sly smile. He was the very picture of a vixen. It was natural for the man’s expression to harden at the humiliating phrase “stopped growing.”
…Excuse me, saint of Ivarid?
Sian could only stare blankly at Carl, dumbfounded.
“What? Huh, I was going to treat you nicely since you have a pretty face.”
The man spat roughly on the ground. “Oh my,” Carl said with a sharp voice, frowning.
“Is that how you treat someone nicely? You need to study a lot more. It shows you’ve never been with a woman, boy.”
…The saint who offers the right cheek when slapped on the left? Hello?
Sian looked alternately at the man, whose anger was starting to blaze, and Carl, with an awkward smile. She wondered what on earth was going on.
“I just gave you a glance because you’re a woman, and now…!”
The man pulled out a large iron club from his back. Sian reflexively put her hand on the sword at her waist in response to the man’s sudden aggression.
“See? How rarely must you meet women if even this looks like a woman to you?”
“Karen.”
Sian called out to Carl, who kept returning the provocation, but he was unmoved. There seemed to be nothing good that could come from causing such a commotion. Sian thought with a suddenly serious expression.
“Tch, how embarrassing for a man.”
Someone among the other mercenaries who saw the commotion clicked their tongue. The face of the man holding the club turned red and blue, further provoked by this.
“You must be acting tough because you’re carrying a sword and calling yourself a mercenary, even though you’re a woman? Come at me, you freakishly tall woman. I’ll teach you a painful lesson today…”
Before the man could finish speaking, Carl, his expression turning cold, drew his sword. It was so fast that even Sian couldn’t see the entire motion of drawing the sword.
“That’s exactly what I was waiting for, you bastard.”
Carl smiled sharply, scattering a chilling gaze as he went berserk.
…No, why on earth is that person acting like this?
Sian, more than flustered, was bewildered and could only blink blankly at Carl. Carl, who had changed his appearance by wearing a wig and makeup, seemed to have changed his personality as well.
Moreover, as his true colors were revealed, his voice naturally lowered. A voice very close to that of a man came out.
Although the man hadn’t noticed anything strange yet due to Carl’s perfect appearance, if the situation dragged on, who knew what might happen. He could be discovered as a man. It was natural for Sian to be flustered.
Even the man who had confidently gripped his club seemed surprised by the tremendous aura that began to emanate from Carl as soon as he drew his sword. It was clearly visible that his shoulders stiffened slightly.
“W-what’s with this woman…”
“What do you mean, what? I’m a tall woman with a drawn sword.”
“Um… Karen?”
Carl grinned, not letting even a muttered word of confusion go. Sian called out to Carl with a smile on her lips but not in her eyes.
“Sis, he picked the fight first. These days are already so stressful, and now this ugly mug…”
Carl spoke to Sian while glaring at the man with fierce eyes. Even in the midst of this, Sian inwardly admired the clean use of “sis” as a form of address. The man couldn’t contain his anger at the insulting expression he had never heard in his life.
“Are you done talking?”
“I’m done. Is that club just for show? Stop flapping your mouth and come at me if you’re going to, kid.”
Carl gripped his sword again, using an odd manner of speech that combined refined language with rough, thug-like attitude.
Sian sighed deeply and put her hand to her forehead as the situation kept escalating. It seemed like honest truth that he couldn’t bear the provocation amidst all the stressful events.
To think that the gloominess he showed earlier when looking at the destroyed castle walls would be expressed in this way…
Moreover, the way he responded to each cheap and childish provocation and led the situation into a fight didn’t seem like the work of an amateur.
I thought he was the saint of Ivarid, but what’s going on here?
Sian, chewing on her inner doubts, slipped between the man and Carl to block them.
“Stop it, both of you. Put away your weapons. Even though we’re mercenaries fending for ourselves, once we cross that gate, we’ll have to work together to protect these castle walls for a while. Is it right to fight so childishly already?”
“No, did I ask for a fight? I just looked because you’re pretty…”
“If you think someone’s pretty, keep it to yourself. Why pick a fight?”
The man and Carl, each holding their weapons, growled at each other without giving an inch.
“What’s going on here?”
At that moment, Yurian appeared, parting the crowd. Carl sheepishly looked at Yurian as he put away the sword he had drawn.
“…Your Highness?”
