The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Chapter 274 Mercenary Owen (2) - Comparison Target A situation where they were greatly outnumbered. A mercenary who kept faith alone without betraying until the end to protect his frail employer lady. If a minstrel had seen this scene, they would have used at least one parchment just to describe the mercenary's bravery and loyalty, but in such a situation, Ophelia thought. 'I should run away immediately if the situation looks like it's going to go wrong.' It was an inner thought that a minstrel would have protested as improper for a heroine, but if asked, Ophelia would have countered like this. That's one thing and this is another. Not betraying immediately and taking her side? Of course it's appreciated. But just because someone she'd known for less than a day showed off a bit, saying 'Ah, my benefactor! I'll die here with you too!!' would be a bit insane, wouldn't it? While Ophelia was secretly gauging the situation while clutching her self-defense magic tool, the standoff between Owen and the mercenaries was becoming increasingly menacing. Among the mercenaries, a scarred man with a large wound left on his cheek growled. "If he wants to die showing off, we should grant his wish. What are you all doing? Get him!!" The moment the mercenaries were about to take their stances at his words, Owen laughed. "Pfft." With quite an infuriating, blatant sneer. Several hot-blooded ones showed signs of anger, but Owen continued speaking nonchalantly. "Hey, hey. If you're going to pull tricks, at least show some sincerity. You're being so obvious about playing around that it's hard to hold back laughter during a serious scene." "What the hell are you talking about!?" "'Get him!' you say, but your intention to make others do it while you don't step up is too blatant. Well, I understand though. If you bravely step up and get hurt for nothing, the others will take all the rewards. It's wise to preserve yourself." At Owen's words, a strange battle of glances went back and forth among the mercenaries. The difference in numbers is extremely important in a fight. Unless they were at the level of military officers or knightly lords of some territory, if nine people rushed from all directions, one or two might fall, but the remaining members could surely win. The problem was who would take the role of those 'one or two who fall.' Reading that subtle atmosphere, the scarred man who first raised his voice shouted. "Are you trying to turn us against each other!!" "Whether it's sowing discord or stating facts, we'll see. Actually, why don't you just step up first? If you're lying on the ground with a hole in your belly, surely the surviving mercenaries will treat you well and cleanly leave your share for you, right? Hmm?" The scarred man couldn't answer immediately. After all, if he were in the opposite position, he wouldn't have done anything like treating someone. If he just left them alone, the number of people would decrease naturally and the share to divide would increase, so why would he help? But even if that were true, he couldn't remain silent here. The very act of pondering like that was stamping approval on Owen's words. "......" "Wh-what! Why are you all looking like that!! That bastard is playing tricks right now!?" The scarred man hastily made excuses upon realizing the suddenly cold gazes, but it was already too late. The mercenaries who had been united as one group split into several factions according to their origins, and only two who were originally from the same mercenary band remained by the scarred man's side. The scarred man, realizing that even their eyes held subtle distrust and reproach, gritted his teeth. Now there was no choice. If he didn't step up first here, he would be completely branded with the perception of being 'someone who incites others to bleed while he leisurely enjoys the benefits.' 'I just need to take down this bastard!!' Thak! Without uttering a single common battle cry, the scarred man rushed at Owen swinging his weapon. It was because he knew that in such fights, the one who strikes first has an overwhelming advantage. Just before the scarred man's blade could slash Owen's chest, Owen's shoulder moved lightly. He caught the middle of the combined spear and used the spear shaft as an axis to lean his body diagonally. The scarred man's sword cut through empty air, and the rear part of the spear swung by that reaction struck the scarred man's chest precisely. "Kugh!" With a dull impact sound, the scarred man's body was pushed back, and the next moment the spear blade was thrust into his throat. The scarred man opened his eyes wide as if aggrieved, but ultimately collapsed without uttering a single last word. "S-Scar!!" "This bastard!!" "His name was Scar? How intuitive." At Owen's teasing words, two from the same mercenary band rushed at him excitedly. Unlike before, it was a 2-to-1 situation, but Owen's movements were unwavering. Owen lightly gripped the end of the spear shaft and swung it. The crude sword swung by the left mercenary bounced off the spear shaft, and the spear tip that moved like flowing water pierced the right mercenary's chest. Even the remaining left mercenary became deceased from the following thrust, so three corpses rolled on the ground in an instant. Seeing the battle that ended in the blink of an eye, the mercenaries' faces hardened coldly. They realized that Owen's skills were beyond their imagination. One of them urgently raised his hand. "Wait! We'll withdraw now. We won't target the young lady anymore and just leave like this." "Hmm. So they say, but what does the employer think?" Still keeping his gaze forward, Owen asked. Ophelia answered. "If they return the advance payment." "So they say?" "...Here it is." Since they obviously couldn't receive the completion fee for the quest, returning even the advance payment would mean going back empty-handed. The mercenary who spoke showed signs of hesitation for a moment, but soon obediently returned the money. It must have been calculated that wasting a day was much better than continuing a reckless fight and dying. Once one mercenary started opening the way like that, the other mercenaries also competed to return their advance payments and left. When only Owen and she were left, Ophelia finally let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Thanks to you, I'm alive." "How come your way of speaking seems much more polite now?" Would she want to act arrogant in front of someone who just sent three mercenaries to their deaths? Suppressing the answer that almost slipped out carelessly, Ophelia said confidently. "You also speak differently than when you were dealing with the mercenaries, don't you?" "That's just adjusting to match the opponent and situation." "It's the same for me. I'm just maintaining basic courtesy toward my life's benefactor." "Aha. I see. I thought maybe it was because you felt guilty about trying to secretly escape." "I-I don't know what you're talking about." After looking with amusement at Ophelia, who was avoiding his gaze and breaking out in cold sweat, Owen extended his hand. Understanding what he was asking for, Ophelia wordlessly took out a money pouch from her bag and handed it to Owen. Owen checked the contents and smiled with satisfaction. "Good, I like clean calculations." "This side is bleeding money from the start though. ...But is being a mercenary originally this faithless? Why do they stab you in the back as if it's so natural?" "That can't be helped. There's one fact that employers like you who have money rotting away sometimes forget." Owen jingled the gold coins in his pouch and shouldered his spear shaft. "The reason mercenaries maintain trust and credibility isn't some outstanding professional consciousness. It's just to maintain their reputation because if rumors spread about betraying employers, they won't get the next job." Conversely, in situations where 'rumors' won't spread, there's no need to worry about reputation. "There's only one employer. They're not even waiting somewhere safe but acting together. If you finish them off quickly and keep your mouth shut, who would know?" "Hmm." "It would have been better in a place like Birka Kingdom where the adventurer industry is active. There, guilds would act as mediators." The biggest difference between adventurers and mercenaries was here. Adventurers are managed by guilds. Clients go to the guild to say what they want, and the guild receives a certain amount of commission before mediating to adventurers who will solve it. Unless the client specifically requests it, adventurers and clients don't need to meet face to face, and most importantly, if an adventurer harms a client, it would tarnish the guild's name, so sanctions come from the guild level. But mercenaries don't have any separate association. Instead, they establish bases in places where rumors circulate that 'such and such city has many mercenaries,' and when a feudal lord living somewhere sends a representative to seek people, they negotiate specific contract details and then swarm to that region. Sometimes tavern or inn owners also serve as brokers, but they literally just play the role of connecting clients and mercenaries, not being superiors who manage mercenaries. Ophelia too had gone around various taverns and gathered people with the help of their owners, but going to them to complain would be meaningless. At best, she would hear some lip service apologies and that would be the end. "Mercenaries are good to use as 'additional forces' by places with a certain scale of power. That way the hired guys can't carelessly have other thoughts. For an individual like you to hire and use them is inappropriate in many ways." "...Phew, I understand. They're not convenient laborers who'll do anything if you just pay them money." Ophelia let out a long sigh. She had tried to use her head in her own way, but accepted that her lack of worldly experience was inevitable. But that was all. "Then, let's start off again now. Since we've delayed, we need to hurry that much more." At Ophelia's declaration, Owen made an expression as if he couldn't believe it. "You're going to continue the quest even after experiencing this situation?" "Then were you planning to end it here? You received money for ten people, no, double that, so for twenty people, you should work that much." Owen stared at Ophelia for a moment. Was she fearless, or foolish? The conclusion was neither. After all, even though she was trying to act calm, Ophelia's fingertips were trembling slightly. It wasn't that she didn't know how dangerous this was, but proof that she wouldn't give up even knowing it. Instead of bothering to point that out, Owen separated his spear again and strapped it to his back. "That's right. If I received money, I should work accordingly." "I'm glad you understand. But do you happen to know how to ride a horse?" "I know how to ride, but why?" "Since the number of people decreased anyway, we should at least speed up our travel. Ten horses would be difficult, but two horses should be manageable somehow." "Wow, you're even going to buy horses? Having a generous employer has many benefits, doesn't it?" "Of course it's a loan. I won't charge rental fees, but I will reclaim them, so handle them gently. If you treat them roughly and they die, I'll demand compensation." "...How shrewd indeed." *** Once the number of people greatly decreased and they secured the mobility of horses, their journey became noticeably easier. They traveled on horseback during the day and rested at night. Since the destination itself was 'a place with few people and untouched by civilization's reach,' the further they went the more they had to camp, but among the magic tools Ophelia brought were many useful ones, so they didn't experience much inconvenience. After creating an instant tent with a click using camping magic tools that ordinary people would find difficult to obtain even if they offered a year's income. After finishing their meal, Owen asked Ophelia, who was reading something alone. "But what book is that? From the cover, it doesn't seem to be a commercial product." "Well, that's because I made it." "You made a book?" "Yes. It's the footsteps of a great person I deeply, deeply admire." Saying so, Ophelia proudly held out the book she had been reading. Her appearance was unmistakably that of a fan proselytizing their favorite work to others. Owen, who received it with a bewildered expression, examined the contents and found it was a kind of scrapbook. Articles related to a specific person had been collected from newspapers and magazines published in the Empire and neatly organized. "...Kuella Ospin?" "Ahem, please call her Lady Ospin. How can you so carelessly say her name?" "Well, it's not like there are other ears listening, so that much doesn't matter." "Tsk. This is why you're an outsider." Ophelia shook her head disapprovingly. "If you don't know well, just keep your mouth shut and read. Then you'll be able to realize how great that person is too!" At that declaration where even conviction could be felt, Owen was silent for a moment. And after a moment, he asked with a subtle smile. "Hooh, I see. But young lady, what do you think if you compare this Lady Ospin and me?" "Do you want to die? How dare a dirty man like you try to compete in the same realm as Lady Ospin!!" Kal!! At Ophelia's sharp rebuke that could be described with such a word if expressed in the far Eastern style, for some reason Owen's smile deepened even more. His shoulders trembling slightly made it look as if he was struggling to hold back something. "Y-yes. I'm sorry. I sincerely apologize." "Hmph, it's fine if you understand. If you understand."