WeTried Translations

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◈ Paladin of a Ruined Order

Chapter 46

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Bet

Elbridge, after hearing the rumor from Rombel about the Master of the Central Magic Tower, offered a prayer to the Goddess of the Rusted Shield.

"Goddess. Can you hear my prayer?"

- Of course, Elbridge.

This time, too, the goddess answered at once.

Elbridge was pleased, but at the same time, a little uneasy.

"Goddess. Forgive my impertinence, but there is something that worries me."

- Elbridge. What is it that worries you?

"Even now, with your followers having increased so much, you still answer my prayers so readily. As your one and only paladin, that is more gratifying than I can say, but I cannot help worrying that you are watching over me so closely you have no time left for your other followers.

- You need not worry about that. Elbridge. Your goddess does not have much she can do for believers who are not in battle. I am simply keeping my attention on the ones I can actually help.

"···."

- Come to think of it, if I had a way to watch over them and help them, our order would not have fallen into decline in the first place···.

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield seemed to grow suddenly gloomy, so Elbridge hurried to bring up the real purpose of his prayer.

"Goddess, you need not worry. You shine most brightly in times like these, when there are more people in desperate need than in peaceful times. In any case, I prayed because I had something I wanted to ask you."

- Elbridge. Your goddess is prepared to tell you anything she is able to tell you.

"That is a relief. Then could you tell me about the Master of the Central Magic Tower?"

But the answer he received was not a satisfying one.

- I am afraid I cannot tell you that, Elbridge. Sharing information about another god with mortals without that god's consent is a taboo of heaven. That remains true even now that the deity has descended to the mortal world.

"···I understand."

- I am sorry I cannot be of help. Still, I can give you one clue. Strictly speaking, it is not the same as sharing information about him.

"What is it?"

- Your goddess knows almost nothing about him. The other gods probably know no more.

"···?"

- I hope this helps you even a little, Elbridge.

Elbridge ended up with a vague piece of information.

The next day, as soon as Rombel woke up, he was more or less hauled away by people who seemed to be magitech engineers or mages.

They were so fired up that even Elbridge and Marcus could not stop them.

At the same time, the people of the Magic Tower showed almost no interest in Elbridge and Marcus at all.

Elbridge spent half a day lounging around in the luxurious room before saying, "A soft bed and fancy furniture are nice, but having nothing to do is a hardship of its own."

"I feel the same."

Marcus rubbed the bridge of his nose, then made a suggestion.

"Since things have turned out this way, how about we go gather some information together?"

Gathering information was an excuse Marcus pulled out whenever he wanted to go to a tavern.

The old Elbridge would have told him to go alone. But now, the offer sounded tempting. There was no danger, and nothing pressing needed doing.

"···Shall we?"

A broad grin spread across Marcus's face.

"You're not joking, are you?"

"What joke? Let's go right now."

Elbridge threw off his armor and stood up.

There are countless taverns in any city. And every tavern has its own atmosphere.

Some are the kind of place where people can put on airs and drink expensive liquor. Some are for stopping by after work to have a light meal and a drink. And some are shabby, noisy places where mercenaries gather.

Finding a tavern full of mercenaries was not difficult.

More than nine out of ten of them were next to the Mercenary Guild.

Most of those taverns were directly managed by the Mercenary Guild, so they usually served as waiting rooms for mercenaries. The taverns where all kinds of information flowed most freely were generally those places too.

"This is the place."

The tavern Elbridge and Marcus entered was exactly that kind of place.

It was packed with mercenaries, the wooden floor carried a faint stale smell, and it was the sort of place where strangers could easily strike up a conversation.

And a place like this had an unwritten rule: no knights or paladins allowed.

That was why Elbridge had left his armor behind.

There was no paladin Elbridge in this tavern today. Only a young mercenary named El.

Elbridge and Marcus took seats at the counter, facing the owner, instead of sitting at a separate table.

"El. Want anything to eat?"

"Anything will do. Let's start with a drink."

"A drink? You look like a rookie who doesn't know any better, but in a place like this you start with three rounds."

Marcus slapped a few coins onto the table and slid them toward the owner. Six small glasses filled with a clear liquid appeared. Three in front of Elbridge, three in front of Marcus.

Without saying a word, Elbridge and Marcus each knocked back three straight shots of liquor that was nothing but harsh.

The sensation of the alcohol seeping into his body was intense. He felt as if he could trace the shape of his esophagus and stomach from the sheer feeling alone.

"El. You can hold your liquor."

"This much is nothing···."

Marcus smiled with satisfaction.

He seemed pleased that he could speak casually without having to worry about titles like Mr. Elbridge or Sir Elbridge getting in the way.

Elbridge found this more comfortable too. After all, Marcus looked at least ten years older than Elbridge.

Elbridge and Marcus sat at an angle and looked around.

Gathering information was only half an excuse. To put it another way, the two of them were also genuinely trying to gather information, at least a little.

Right now, there was one question on Elbridge and Marcus's minds. Why had Middlemarch become such an isolated city, cut off from everything else?

Marcus lowered his voice slightly and said, "El. You said that two hundred years ago, Middlemarch was not like this, right?"

"That's right. The different regions of the continent each had their own distinct character, but there was nowhere quite as strange as this."

Horseless carriages? Odd clothes?

Those things did not matter. What mattered most was who held power.

From Elbridge's experience, every city revolved around faith and the churches.

Even people with enormous wealth, even so-called nobles, could not stand above the authority of the churches. There were no exceptions.

But the Middlemarch of today was different. The Magic Tower had completely overshadowed every church.

That was obvious even from the layout of the city. In the center of Middlemarch stood only the Magic Tower, while the temples had not even been able to approach it, instead scattered on the outskirts.

'This really is a strange city.'

Marcus looked around for a moment, then noticed an elderly mercenary sitting alone at the end of the counter, sipping a drink by themselves. They looked to be about sixty. Judging by their expression, they were almost certainly a retired mercenary.

Retired mercenaries all had one thing in common. They were desperate to tell other people old stories.

They had seen a great deal over the years and were always ready to talk, which made them perfect sources of information.

Marcus and Elbridge rose slightly from their seats and moved over beside the retired mercenary.

Marcus placed a fresh glass of liquor in front of them and greeted them.

"Good day, sir."

The retired mercenary did not refuse. They downed the drink first, then answered.

"New faces. Travelers?"

"That's right. We came from eastern Solenion. Both of us are···. Ah, I'm Marcus, and this fellow beside me is El."

"That accent sounded like it. What brings you here?"

"We came here after living in the east, and the atmosphere of the city felt strange."

The retired mercenary laughed.

"You came to the right person. I'm not from the central region either. I'm from the north, so I know exactly how you feel."

"Do you?"

"Everything being run by the Magic Tower instead of the churches feels strange, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

As he said that, Marcus slid a silver coin toward the tavern owner.

Nine tiny glasses came out this time, along with a little fried pork rind that would do as a snack.

The old mercenary tossed back a shot of strong liquor, then pointed at Elbridge.

"I'm talking about that young fellow there···. You said your name was El, right?"

"Yes."

"Right. I came to Middlemarch when I was about your age. It was already a strange city then, but not this strange. According to what people said at the time, the current Master of the Central Magic Tower descended from heaven and took the seat of the tower master, and that's when it became like this."

Elbridge asked, "So the tower master pushed the temples out?"

"I don't know whether he meant to or whether it just happened naturally. But all the changes definitely started with the Master of the Central Magic Tower."

"He was once a god, a great mage, but is it really possible for someone to change a huge city like this?"

"The tower master didn't change the city through magic alone. The tower master's greatest weapon was business sense."

The tavern owner, who had been wiping a plate with a dry towel, cut into the conversation.

"The tower master is a slippery one. After coming down from heaven, the tower master used magical skill and the prestige of having once been a god to swallow up every business in Middlemarch that could make money. The temples couldn't lift a finger against the tower master, and neither could the nobles. So the temples naturally withered away."

"Setting the nobles aside, is it really possible for the temples to be pushed out? The people of Middlemarch would still need divine protection, wouldn't they?"

"This city needs the tower's protection more than the gods' protection. That's Middlemarch for you."

Could a mage really bestow protection on people?

As Elbridge tilted his head, the tavern owner laughed.

"Among all the countless things the Master of the Central Magic Tower created, the one that changed this city the most was the mana battery. You can understand everything about this city just by looking at mana batteries."

"What is a mana battery?"

"···You really haven't been here long. That thing right there is a mana battery."

The tavern owner pointed to a metal box beside the counter.

It was about a handspan tall and about as wide as a person's shoulders.

But Elbridge and Marcus could not begin to guess what it was for.

Then the tavern owner shouted, "Hey, Milton!"

At that shout, one flushed, drunken patron turned around.

"You owe for your drinks, right? Come over here and charge this battery!"

"Uh, sure."

The patron called Milton staggered over and placed both hands on top of the mana battery.

Then the needle on the battery moved on its own, touched the 15 mark, and returned to its original position.

Milton, satisfied that he had done his part, went back to his seat and started drinking again.

Elbridge and Marcus still did not understand what had just happened.

"I don't get it."

"Milton is a mage, and this battery can store a mage's mana. Just now, Milton stored fifteen marks' worth of mana in it."

"What is the point of that?"

"The Magic Tower pays for the mana stored in the battery. Milton stored mana in the battery, and I will knock that much off Milton's drink bill."

"What does the tower do with the mana?"

"It keeps spell circles running, drives mana carriages, charges knights with mana for a fee···. It's used for all sorts of things a mage can do."

Elbridge and Marcus remembered what Rombel had said the day before.

There was a box under the horseless carriages that stored mana, and the mana from that box moved the carriages.

"···The important thing is that once you become a mage, you can make easy money every day just like Milton. Even a low-grade mage like Milton can earn plenty of pocket money, and if you have a fair bit of talent, you can make a living just by filling mana batteries. If you're an excellent mage, you can join the Magic Tower and make real money."

Only then did Elbridge and Marcus understand the situation.

If you believed in a god, you might receive divine grace from time to time. But if you became a mage, you were guaranteed a stable income.

Uncertain grace, certain reward.

It was easy to see which way people's hearts would tilt.

Marcus asked, "Can't you be both a priest and a mage?"

"They say divinity and mana are incompatible. If you have divinity, the purity of your mana drops, so it's actually better not to build up any divinity at all."

Marcus did not seem to think much of that even after hearing it.

But Elbridge, freed from his seal and arriving in the Holy City of Solenion, felt a shock similar to what he had felt then.

'This is a world where changing faith for profit has become natural. If something can guarantee greater benefits than having faith, then does that mean people could even throw faith away entirely?'

Elbridge chewed on the fried snack and drank the strong liquor while lost in thought.

Then would no paladins or priests be born in this city?

What was the ratio of mages to non-mages? There was no end to what he could think about.

'Information gathering was a decent success, at least···.'

In the noisy tavern, only Elbridge and Marcus were deep in thought.

Then the tavern door burst open with a loud bang.

Bang!

At that point, it was obvious the door had been thrown open roughly on purpose to draw everyone's attention.

Every eye in the room turned toward the entrance.

There stood one female mage and two men in armor.

What drew Elbridge's attention even more than the mage was the pair of armored men. Instead of church emblems, the insignia of the Central Magic Tower had been engraved prominently on their armor and swords.

'Knights.'

Knights whose power came not from divinity but from mana.

But Elbridge had never seen knights who wore the Magic Tower's insignia like that before, unless they were itinerant knights or members of a noble house.

A few people acted as though this was routine and started complaining.

"They're here again today. It was just getting good too···."

It was easy to see why people were complaining.

When the female mage waved her staff and chanted a spell, the slight drunken haze in people's minds vanished in an instant.

'···She used magic to clear away everyone's drunkenness.'

As displeasure spread across the room, the knight standing beside the mage lumbered over and placed a gold coin on the counter.

"The drinks are on me. If you want to keep drinking, do so later. For now, pay attention to what I have to say."

Even then, a mocking reply came back.

"Ah, yes. Speak all you like!"

The knight gave the speaker a slight glare, then got to the point.

"I am looking for mercenaries to handle a request from the tower. The mission is simple reconnaissance, but we will not accept applicants who lack skill."

Setting the content aside, the knight's tone was downright snide.

It was as if he were saying, do any of you really think there is a single one among you who measures up?

"The area to be searched is the underground sewer beneath Middlemarch. The deadline is within three days. Payment starts at no less than one gold coin. Depending on the results, we promise a substantial reward. Anyone who wants to take the request should be waiting at the Mercenary Guild tomorrow morning. I expect many capable applicants. The riffraff should not waste their time, because they won't be getting the job anyway. That is all."

The knight finished speaking and left.

Elbridge let it go with a shrug.

But Marcus was different. His eyes gleamed as if he had found a gold coin on the floor.

Elbridge had trouble understanding Marcus's reaction.

'He knows that selling the sword in his hand alone would let him live comfortably for the rest of his life, so why does he react so strongly to one gold coin···?'

Sure enough, Elbridge said to Marcus, "Marcus, I think it would be fine to take the request."

"I don't know. I don't really feel like it."

The retired mercenary nodded.

"Good call. Don't go wasting your time on it."

"Why not?"

"That's the seventh time, at least as far as I've seen, that the Magic Tower has brought in that exact same request."

"With conditions that good, and no one has taken it?"

"No. Almost every mercenary in this tavern tried to take it. But not a single one was hired. Apparently they weren't good enough or something."

Only then did interest flicker across Elbridge's face.

It was obviously a strange request. Elbridge's instincts were screaming that there was something behind it.

Looking at the gold coin the knight had left behind, Elbridge murmured, "Marcus. I think it would be fine to take the request."

But the response came not from Marcus, but from the mercenaries drinking in the back.

"Haha! Anyone want to bet on whether that guy can get the request tomorrow? I'll put one gold coin on him failing."

"One gold coin from me too."

The mercenaries jokingly placed gold coins on the table one after another.

If they could casually pull out gold coins like that, they were probably fairly skilled mercenaries.

There was certainty in their actions.

The certainty that Elbridge, who had not managed to secure a request that none of them could get, would not be able to get it either.

And Elbridge was not the kind of person who backed away from a bet he could win.

Elbridge snatched Marcus's coin pouch, threw it to the tavern owner, and said, "I'll be back soon to collect the stakes, so please hold onto them for me."

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