Chapter 1
The day had finally come.
“Priscilla Arcade. You’re dismissed.”
The moment she was called to the office, the scene of being kicked out of her workplace began to unfold before her eyes.
The firm command matched well with the cold air that reached her toes. The desolate land of Sabed was just as dry. Perhaps because she was used to the arid weather, Priscilla wasn’t particularly shaken by the bleak atmosphere. After all, there wasn’t a mercenary company anywhere in the world that would accept a disabled injured soldier.
She had already sensed this much the moment her arm was blown off.
“Sign this.”
A single sheet of paper was pushed across the desk. Priscilla, who had been looking down at the hard toe of her boots, slowly raised her head. Her deep blue eyes, which had briefly glanced left and right, turned forward like a clock pendulum that had stopped working.
In the eerily quiet office, not only people but also four machines stood lined up together. At first glance, they appeared to be men armed with firearms, but their bodies covered in steel and copper plates were not human.
The two-meter-tall mechanical soldiers exuded an intimidating presence through their mere existence without taking a single breath, and it seemed like they would force her to make a bloody fingerprint if she didn’t sign.
Standing among them was the mercenary captain, Ross. A middle-aged man reeking of old age was their master. Ross urged her to sign with a frightening expression. It was a document stating that she would voluntarily retire.
Could she refuse? No, it would be impossible. Even if he wasn’t in his prime, he was still a commander who could deploy dozens of war machines in combat.
On the other hand, the single soldier who had just stepped foot in the office… was an idiot who didn’t even possess the minimum magical power needed to operate the prosthetic attached to her right arm.
Even before losing her arm, she only knew how to handle the lowest-grade outdated guns, so she either served as a supply soldier or was used as meat shield on the front lines.
That same woman had returned a month ago, having lost her right arm.
It seemed like an inevitable, predetermined ending that would have happened someday.
And so, in a private unit where skill and money were the entirety of exchange value, Priscilla became completely useless. She surely knew it herself.
Yet she had been stubbornly putting off retirement for quite some time.
She wandered around the base with one arm, doing menial tasks like mopping that no one asked her to do, and absolutely refused to leave on her own feet. She wanted to prove that she was still someone who could be useful to the mercenary company.
They could have kicked her out earlier, but there wasn’t anyone suitable to step forward and ruthlessly cast out a member who was injured while saving a comrade. No matter how money-driven the mercenary company was, there was still a minimum level of camaraderie among them.
“…I can still work. Just give me anything to do…”
“Priscilla. Get a grip. Word that you’re of slave origin has started spreading throughout Sabed.”
But if even the secret of her status had been exposed to the public.
Priscilla’s expulsion was no longer a matter that could be put off indefinitely.
“…There’s no reason for such rumors to spread.”
“Do you think I’m lying just to kick you out?”
“…”
“Whether someone who knows you talked, or you ran your mouth carelessly. Whatever the reason, once rumors start spreading, I can’t keep your secret anymore either.”
Someone had to take the lead in getting the ghost-like wandering Priscilla out.
Such tasks were usually the commander’s duty.
“Just imagine if your original master showed up. Once you’re branded, life becomes much harder. You’d have to ride in coal cars even on trains, your name and face would appear in newspapers, you wouldn’t be able to get jobs. In the end, you’d either return to a plantation or commit suicide. Like other slaves.”
“…”
“Don’t forget that we’re currently preparing to be incorporated as a foreign legion of the great Lamarian Empire. The tough times of building a base in the godforsaken Sabed without a drop of water are coming to an end. It’ll definitely happen if there are no inappropriate flaws.”
The mercenary company that had recently participated in the war on the side of the powerful Lamarian Empire was at an important crossroads. The opportunity for Sabed’s mercenary company, a small group of foreigners of unknown nationality, to become the Empire’s regular army was absolutely rare.
The image of a mercenary company should always be cruel and powerful. Humanitarian rumors about accepting slaves and the disabled would only be a hindrance.
Camaraderie existed not just for Priscilla alone, but for the entire mercenary company.
Without being able to properly argue back, Priscilla had to give up being stubborn any longer.
She couldn’t possibly block her comrades’ future by becoming that one “inappropriate flaw.”
She leaned her upper body close to the table and grabbed the pen. Scratch, scratch, she wrote her name and straightened her posture with a knife-like movement.
Despite her disciplined and proper attitude, the handwriting written with her left hand was a mess.
Below her right shoulder, the chunk of scrap metal that seemed roughly patched on was only heavy and didn’t even twitch. This was because Priscilla possessed absolutely no magical power to move the prosthetic.
She had tried hard to use her left arm, which she normally didn’t use much, to hold guns and eat meals… but it really wasn’t something she could easily get used to. The crooked handwriting was proof of that. Even operating typewriter keys with one hand didn’t produce any speed. She failed at everything.
“Thank you for everything.”
With an expressionless face, Priscilla offered her final greeting.
Accepting the loss of her right arm that made it impossible for her to even salute.
Only then did the captain’s eyes, which had been hard as stone, soften.
“If you’re hurt, you should rest quietly. Why do you make people look like the bad guys? Tsk.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you like this? Do I have to deal with this kind of thing as soon as I return?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I should have kicked you away when you followed me wanting to join the mercenary company. You would have been better off just rolling around on a plantation than now.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ross was the person who had taken in Priscilla even knowing she was a slave when she was young. Priscilla knew best that his concern for her was genuine. So she was busy apologizing for being a burden, saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Ross rolled up the document and crumpled it under the desk. Though he had managed to get her signature with a stern face, he couldn’t shake off his unpleasant feelings.
Look at the pitiful state of Priscilla Arcade standing before him. A member who had been fine couldn’t even dress properly in her uniform and had barely squeezed her neck and limbs through the holes. Her uniform was in poor condition, and she couldn’t even tie her bootlaces, dragging her shoes around.
“How about considering marriage instead?”
“…”
The middle-aged man asked with regret in his voice. And as if to say don’t misunderstand, he quickly added before Priscilla could respond.
“Twenty is young, and losing an arm doesn’t mean you can’t have children. I happen to know a wealthy nobleman who’s looking for a woman. He’s from Lamarian.”
“…No matter how lacking in marriage prospects I may be, there wouldn’t be anyone looking for a woman like me. Unless there’s something seriously wrong with him too.”
“That may be true, but living while supporting each other isn’t bad either. At least there would be someone to help you dress properly.”
“I refuse. Regardless of what kind of person he is, I won’t marry someone I don’t love.”
Ross let out a deep sigh as if he hadn’t expected a positive response from the stubborn woman anyway.
Wouldn’t it be realistic to accept if he’s a wealthy nobleman?
Originally, Sabed’s mercenary company was where screwed-up people crawled in, but Priscilla was the most peculiar woman among them.
It was strange from the start that she kept coming back alive carrying weak, outdated weapons. Moreover, she was a good shot. Judging by results alone, she was desperate enough not to fall behind others.
During her prime when she worked well, there was even a folk song that spread among civilians about a goddess with mysterious silver hair taking heads.
It wasn’t for nothing. Priscilla was always standing in the training ground. Even on days when sandstorms blew, even on days when the sun occasionally couldn’t be seen.
It meant that despite being the weakest and most incompetent member, her level of pride was extraordinary.
If she had been born noble, she might have made a name for herself with loyalty and virtue, but what could a slave do living straight as a tree like this? She’d only break.
If she had survived a little longer to become a Lamarian soldier, would her future have been brighter?
In any case, it was sad that the time she had held on through effort alone was over.
“If necessary, you can find love after marriage, or look for it elsewhere. All the noble lords live that way, so what’s stopping you? It’s not even a mistress position but a legitimate wife position. It’s not a shameful position.”
“…If you command me with justification, I will comply, but if not, I won’t do it.”
How could he possibly persuade her?
Giving up was much easier and simpler.
Ross soon shook his head and didn’t bring up the same topic again. It wasn’t something he could force.
Instead, he took out a small letter from the still-open drawer.
