Paladin of a Ruined Order - Chapter 142

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Order

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Chapter 142: Mercenary King (1)

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The next day, the Order of the Laurel Wreath's temple became the Temple of Cycles and Flow.

The believers protested a little, but there was nothing they could really do.

Sonia looked at the sign reading, "Temple of Flow and Cycles," with a conflicted expression.

"Isn't this a little too suspicious?"

Rombel chuckled.

"Being suspicious in moderation makes it even better. People are naturally drawn to things that are unfamiliar and suspicious rather than things that are natural and obvious. The Master of the Central Magic Tower won't be an exception."

Unlike when it had been the Order of the Laurel Wreath's temple, few people came to the Temple of Flow and Cycles. The only visitors were sightseers curious about the unfamiliar divine name.

Still, after hiring a few freelance priests to stand around, it looked convincing enough. This should be enough to lure in the Master of the Central Magic Tower.

"We've set the trap, so now all we have to do is wait."

The problem was that no one knew how long that wait would be. If they were lucky, the Master of the Central Magic Tower might appear that very evening. If they were unlucky, they might have to wait for months.

It would be foolish for all four of them to stay cooped up in the temple while waiting endlessly for the Master of the Central Magic Tower to appear. Sonia eventually came up with a solution.

"Come here. I'll cast a calling spell on you."

The calling spell had only one function: sending loud alarms to one another.

It was simple, but they didn't need anything more.

"I'll stay at the temple until this evening, so go take care of your own business. Just don't go too far."

"Got it."

Thanks to Sonia, they had some free time.

Elbridge returned to Marquis Hagenlot's estate, closed his eyes in a quiet room, and focused on Bella-style Combat Art. Jin's arrow, which had descended from the sky like a ray of light and pierced Starwave, still lingered vividly in his mind.

Elbridge recalled Orion's explanation.

'Bella-style Combat Art consists of awareness, concentration, and release.'

The first step was becoming aware of the divinity within one's body.

Slowing his breathing, Elbridge observed himself from within. Yet even after quite some time had passed, he couldn't feel anything.

Elbridge knew that his body held a considerable amount of divinity. That divinity was the reason he could move beyond human limits.

But he had only recognized its existence indirectly through its effects. It wasn't something he could perceive directly, or at least that was what Elbridge had always believed. The other Paladins thought the same way.

'I have to feel something I've never felt before.'

It felt like trying to move a third arm that didn't even exist.

The goal was so vague that he couldn't guess when he would be able to sense his divinity. No, it might be impossible from the start.

Elbridge prayed to the Goddess of the Rusted Shield.

"Goddess."

- What is it, Elbridge?

"Can an ordinary human use divinity the way a Sentinel does?"

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield answered in a slightly uncertain voice.

- Your goddess only became able to control divinity freely after ascending to heaven and becoming a god.

"Is that so..."

She hadn't declared it impossible, but it wasn't encouraging either.

As far as Elbridge knew, there were three people who used Bella-style Combat Art: Jin, Bella, and Orion.

All three were elves. Perhaps Bella-style Combat Art was a realm not granted to humans.

Still, Elbridge steadied himself as he remembered the power of Jin's arrow.

'It's more than worth trying. Even if I fail, all I'll lose is time.'

Elbridge closed his eyes and sank back into meditation.

* * *

Marcus also spent his spare time training.

Unlike Elbridge, though, Marcus didn't train alone. He was mingling among the Murvach Mercenary Company.

Perhaps because they were both mercenaries, Marcus got along well with the members of the Murvach Mercenary Company.

"Marcus! Let's have another match today!"

"Come at me!"

The mercenaries of the Murvach Mercenary Company often challenged Marcus to spar.

The results were always similar. Whether he won easily or with difficulty, Marcus always came out on top.

There was only one mercenary in the Murvach Mercenary Company whom Marcus had never defeated: Murvach.

Murvach looked at Marcus and smiled.

"At this rate, you'll catch up to me soon."

"Come on, no way..."

But Marcus knew Murvach was right. He was confident he could catch up to Murvach within a year at the earliest, or two or three years at most.

This situation felt somewhat unfamiliar to Marcus.

'When did I get this strong?'

The answer was after meeting Elbridge.

Without question, Marcus had learned far more from Elbridge and Rombel over the past year than he had during the more than ten years he'd spent as a mercenary. At least when it came to fighting.

Marcus turned his head and watched Marquis Hagenlot's knights training on the other side of the grounds. Their movements were faster and more precise than the mercenaries'.

Murvach spoke to him.

"What, do you want to fight the knights?"

"Not particularly."

"You've been watching them so closely, yet you're making excuses."

Marcus smiled awkwardly. Murvach watched the knights for a moment before speaking.

"From what I can see, you could defeat most of those knights."

"Come on, no way."

Marcus pretended to lack confidence, but Murvach was surely right. He wasn't someone who made empty claims.

Swish.

As Marcus absentmindedly watched the knights, Murvach, who had been sitting beside him, quietly rose.

Marcus shifted his gaze slightly. Sure enough, Marquis Hagenlot was approaching the training grounds.

Murvach and Marquis Hagenlot were brothers. Blood brothers who hadn't seen each other for more than twenty years.

Most brothers would have sat together and talked through the night, but Murvach and Marquis Hagenlot were different.

The marquis seemed uncomfortable facing Murvach, while Murvach openly avoided the marquis.

At first, Marcus had thought they might have had a massive fight. Yet from what he had seen so far, there was no hostility between them.

Murvach walked toward the side opposite Marquis Hagenlot. Marcus got up and walked alongside him.

"Mr. Murvach."

"Hm?"

"Are you and Marquis Hagenlot not on good terms?"

"It's not that we're on bad terms... It's just awkward."

"Did you argue in the past? Even if you did, I wouldn't think the resentment would last twenty years."

"We didn't argue. I just couldn't keep a promise."

"A promise?"

Murvach nodded and spoke slowly.

"Garmon and I... That is, Marquis Hagenlot and I, neither of us intended to inherit the house. The third sibling was supposed to inherit the title."

The words "was supposed to" implied that things hadn't gone that way.

In fact, Marquis Hagenlot was the second child.

"Only one person can inherit the title. The other siblings have to leave Leodel or enter completely different fields. Garmon and I planned to become mercenaries."

"There are plenty of things you could do besides becoming mercenaries. Was there any need to choose such a difficult line of work?"

"The Mercenary King was the one who founded House Hagenlot. The men of House Hagenlot often walk the path of mercenaries."

At the mention of the Mercenary King, Marcus's ears perked up.

What mercenary in the world didn't admire the Mercenary King?

"Unlike Garmon and me, who wanted to become mercenaries, the third sibling was physically a little weak, but intelligent. Our father cherished the third sibling as well. But the third sibling died in a riding accident. It happened when I was just over twenty."

It was quite an old story. More than thirty years had probably passed.

"After the third sibling died, either Garmon or I had to inherit the house. Garmon and I tried to push the title onto each other."

Marcus had trouble understanding.

Why give up a noble title just to work as a mercenary? Marquis Hagenlot wasn't some provincial baron, either. He was a great noble.

"It's hard to understand. If it were me, I think I'd have tried to inherit the house."

"I know inheriting a marquisate would make for a more comfortable life. But living comfortably can also mean leaving no mark on the world. Rather than inherit the house, live safely, and die without a trace, Garmon and I wanted to achieve something, even if it was difficult, and leave our footprints on the world."

Marcus still found Murvach hard to understand.

Some people ran away from home to escape their father's leather belt and became mercenaries, while others threw away the position of a high noble to become one. What an absurdly privileged thing to say.

"...I can't really relate."

"I suppose not. Anyway, I wanted to leave the house, and I made Garmon a promise. I told him I would return as the Mercenary King, so he should take charge of the house in my place. In the end, Garmon gave up his own wishes and inherited the house."

"And as a result, you've become an outstanding mercenary captain. The most respected mercenary captain in Hebron Fortress."

"But I never became known as the Mercenary King."

Murvach smiled bitterly.

"I can't face Garmon. Garmon must be disappointed in me as well."

"I don't think that's your fault, Mr. Murvach. The timing was simply bad."

People said heroes were born in troubled times.

Conversely, heroes could not be born when times weren't troubled.

Until the year before last, the world had been far too peaceful.

There had been no war, and demons hadn't roamed the world.

It was a world where even a mercenary as skilled as Murvach had no chance to stand out. In a world where mercenaries did little more than run errands, how could any mercenary be called the Mercenary King?

"You're not wrong. But in the end, what matters is that Garmon successfully protected the house, while I failed to keep my promise."

Only now had the world finished preparing to give birth to heroes.

But Murvach was already well past fifty. He could still work as a mercenary, but it was a little late to be called the Mercenary King.

"On the way to Hebron Fortress, I prayed to the God of Fox Rain. I asked whether I could become the Mercenary King. I didn't pray because I expected an oracle in return. But unexpectedly, the God of Fox Rain gave me one."

"What did the God say?"

"They said it would be impossible."

Murvach let out a deep sigh.

"Even after receiving that oracle, I couldn't let go of my lingering attachment. So I entered Hebron Fortress and held out there. Then I met all of you."

Murvach glanced back.

Marcus didn't turn around, but it was easy to guess that Murvach had looked at Marquis Hagenlot.

"I thought that after not seeing him for twenty years, I might feel a little lighter. That's what I thought when I returned to the house, but... it only became more uncomfortable than before. This will be the last time I return home. Once I leave the house, I don't intend to ever return to the royal capital, Leodel."

Murvach shook his head, then patted Marcus's shoulder twice.

Marcus stopped walking. Murvach quickened his pace and disappeared toward the estate.

* * *

Marcus lay on his bed, rolling around as he thought.

'The Mercenary King...'

After tossing and turning for a long time, Marcus prayed to the God of Fox Rain.

"God of Fox Rain."

Unlike the Goddess of the Rusted Shield, who always listened to Elbridge's prayers, the God of Fox Rain didn't always listen to Marcus's.

But this time, an oracle came at once.

- Why?

"Can I become the Mercenary King?"

There was no grand intention behind the question.