WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Oblivious
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◈ Prince of Rage ◈
Chapter 79
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Autumn rain pattered down through the night. It made winter seem one step closer, and the air felt colder than usual. A faint mist escaped with every breath.
Inside one building, firewood crackled in the fireplace and spread warmth, so the cold had not yet invaded.
Yet the people gathered there, after pushing all the tables to one side, seemed to be trembling. It was not from the cold, but anxiety and fear.
Then the door opened with a Rattle!, letting in a gust of cold air that made the fire flare violently. Everyone startled and turned toward the entrance at once.
The person in the long cloak lowered their hood. Recognizing the face, everyone relaxed. Water streamed from the hem of the cloak.
Waaah!
A baby began crying as though it had just woken up. Though no one gave her a disapproving look, the mother anxiously tried to soothe the child as quickly as she could.
When the man who had entered removed his wet cloak, a woman hurriedly rose to take it. Another woman quickly locked the door.
The man beneath the cloak wore a sword at his waist.
With the baby still crying, he sat in one of the chairs gathered to one side and spoke. Everyone listened closely.
“Paul is dead. I told him he didn’t have to finish loading the goods...”
His voice was full of despair and dejection. Someone sobbed, as though they had lost someone close.
This was the Hayden Crossroads branch of the Lokir Merchant Company. The mercenaries called the War Dogs had recently begun threatening it directly.
At times, they seemed like assassins. At others, they descended in an organized force like an army. Their reason was that Lucas, the head of the Lokir Merchant Company, had dared to disrespect the Third Prince.
The branch had some fighting strength of its own, but it was no match for them. Judging by the fact that they did not loot indiscriminately, they were not ordinary thugs. Their purpose and chain of command were clear.
The company guards, along with the branch manager, had all been killed within a single day. Since then, the mercenaries had been killing one member of the branch staff each day.
They could have killed everyone at once, yet they deliberately killed them one by one because this was a threat aimed at Lucas.
Would he still refuse to swear loyalty? If so, they would all die.
Paul had been that day’s victim. Even while under threat, Paul had been loading goods to supply raw materials to the company headquarters when he was killed.
If the raw materials arrived even a day late, production would suffer. Whether it was important enough to trade a life for, no one knew.
But it showed how strong Paul’s sense of duty had been.
“Then... how many people capable of fighting are left?”
The woman who had locked the door asked cautiously. She was not speaking of guards, but adult men who could fight.
The sword-bearing man looked over everyone gathered on the first floor.
The adult men were either boys who had just turned fifteen or children even younger. The rest were women.
What the woman was really asking was whether they could find men anywhere else.
“Uncle Willy! I can fight!”
A boy sprang to his feet and shouted. His mother immediately grabbed his clothes and forced him back down.
“Be quiet!”
“Why, Mother? We can’t just sit here and die.”
“Be quiet when I tell you to be quiet! Listen to me!”
The mother struck the boy’s back again and again. The boy looked unhappy about being hit, but he remained still in the face of her anger.
“People capable of fighting. You are not a man capable of fighting. Still, your courage is admirable.”
There was truly no way out. Even if the mercenaries broke down the door at that very moment and began killing people, they could not resist.
Everyone knew that. Their deaths were all but certain.
That was why they were so gloomy. There seemed to be no way to survive. Then an elderly woman spoke.
“Willy, wasn’t it a pledge of loyalty that they wanted...?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t we swear loyalty to the prince ourselves?”
“...”
There was no telling whether they would accept it, but it sounded like the most practical alternative.
Still, the man called Willy, whose full name was Wilfred, could not bring himself to do it.
This branch was not merely one branch among many. It had been run by generations of people.
That was true not only of Wilfred but of ordinary employees who were not branch managers. Several families had made their living for generations under the great shelter of the Lokir Merchant Company.
So betraying it overnight was not easy.
“A raven arrived this morning. They said they would send skilled guards as quickly as possible.”
“And when will they arrive?”
“That...”
“One person dies every day. Can you take responsibility for those deaths?”
The elderly woman, who had worked there since the branch was founded, pressed Wilfred. It was the most reasonable alternative, making it difficult for him to argue.
He squeezed his eyes shut, thought for a long time, then spoke.
“Let’s wait one more day. Just one more day. Tomorrow, I’ll stake my life on it.”
He truly seemed to hate betrayal more than death. Perhaps the Lokir Merchant Company’s true strength lay here. In a world where people would betray one another at the first opportunity, the company’s unity was exceptionally strong.
When Wilfred went so far as to say that, the old woman could say no more. She understood how he felt.
But even if she did not have much longer to live, what would become of the young women and children gathered here?
“Let’s get some sleep for now. I think that, that would be for Paul and those who died.”
Wilfred spoke, but whether they agreed with him or not, no one could possibly sleep.
Only at dawn did people begin to nod off one by one.
There was snoring, and sometimes the babies fussed in their sleep. Whenever that happened, their mothers instinctively held and soothed them.
The rain outside gradually subsided, and everyone fell asleep. Even anxiety and fear could not overcome sleepiness.
The rain had stopped, but the clouds had not cleared, delaying the dawn. Even so, everyone woke automatically, despite their exhaustion.
They woke one another, dispersed to their respective duties, and most began cleaning indoors. They poured water over the floor, swept it, and wiped it down.
Then they moved the tables and chairs back to their original places. Food was prepared in the kitchen.
The Hayden Crossroads branch gathered raw materials coming from every direction and supplied them to the headquarters, but it also operated a tavern and inn. That was why they cleaned and prepared to receive guests from early morning.
There could not possibly be any guests under the recent circumstances. Still, they began their daily work because it was their life. Even with death looming over them, they could not let it go.
Unity and diligence seemed to be the Lokir Merchant Company’s greatest assets.
Outside, still wet from the rain, it was still dark.
The people busied themselves from early morning preparing to receive customers, but once everything was ready, they simply stood still. They needed guests before there was anything more to do.
Then, people entered the branch early in the morning.
A waitress dozing at a corner table instantly woke upon seeing them. They were War Dogs mercenaries.
Five or six people entered, glanced around the room, then claimed a table.
“You don’t serve customers here?”
They spoke calmly, but no one watching them could remain calm. Everyone stood frozen, while someone hurried to fetch Wilfred.
Before long, Wilfred came down from upstairs with a sword at his waist.
“W-what is it?”
“Honestly. I asked whether you serve customers.”
“Hey, you. Do you pick and choose which customers to serve?”
They had killed the branch manager, the guards, and Paul the previous night. Of course everyone was frightened and uneasy when such people suddenly demanded service.
Wilfred swallowed hard and spoke to the frightened women in the kitchen.
“Bring out the food.”
Only then did the women move. Wilfred sat apart from the mercenaries and watched them while trying to hide his anxiety. The mercenaries smirked as though it were ridiculous.
Fortunately, they seemed to have come only to create an atmosphere of fear. For now, at least, they did not seem likely to harm anyone.
Soon, the women brought out the finest food they could prepare. Steam rose from it, making it look appetizing. The mercenaries began stuffing it into their mouths with their bare hands.
Then the sound of several horses’ hooves came from outside. Wilfred and the mercenaries alike turned toward the entrance, wondering what it was.
A short while later, three people entered after stabling their horses. They wore long cloaks with hoods. When they removed their hoods, the first face revealed was astonishingly handsome.
It seemed to brighten the still-dim room.
It was Valerie.
The woman behind him looked somewhat disheveled after the rain that had fallen through the night, but it could not conceal her breathtaking beauty.
The remaining person was short and looked around at everyone with eyes that held a trace of displeasure.
Valerie spoke.
“Who is responsible for this branch?”
Even after Valerie asked, silence lingered for some time. Then Wilfred finally came to his senses, rose from his seat, and spoke.
“M-me. I’m the acting branch manager. Wilfred. Who are you, and why are you looking for the person in charge?”
“The headquarters sent us. They said there were some dog-bone bastards here.”
“...”
At Valerie’s words, the mercenaries eating their meal changed expressions. They put down the meat in their hands and wiped their greasy fingers on their trousers, ready to grab their weapons at any moment.
At first, Wilfred could not properly understand Valerie’s claim that the headquarters had sent them.
Valerie’s height and build were no less than an adult’s, but his face looked young. One of the others still seemed not fully grown, while the last was a woman.
Surely these could not be the guards the headquarters had sent...?
It was so absurd, bewildering, and unreal that Wilfred could not answer at once. In the midst of that, the mercenaries spoke first.
“Hey.”
Valerie turned to them.
“Are we the dog-bone bastards?”
“Probably.”
One of the mercenaries carefully looked over Valerie, Knut, and Brynhildr. Their long cloaks concealed whatever equipment they had beneath them, but they all clearly wore swords at their waists.
“Can you use those swords?”
“Why are you asking so much? Are you barking?”
“Ha.”
One mercenary violently slapped a plate off the table.
Crash!
Then they all rose. Their chairs scraped backward with a Scrape.
Valerie spoke to Knut and Brynhildr.
“Close the door.”
Brynhildr, who was closest to the entrance, shut it with a Thud.
Valerie spoke again.
“Only deal with the ones who get past me. It’ll get confusing if too many people start fighting.”
Then he stepped forward. He did not draw his sword. Neither did the mercenaries. Yet it seemed certain that a fight was about to begin.
“Looks like this bastard came from some sword school...”
One mercenary drew their sword as they spoke. But they could neither finish their words nor fully draw the sword.
Valerie drew his blade like lightning, closed the distance in an instant, and sent the mercenary’s head flying.
His cloak billowed wildly.
Before the mercenaries could even realize that one of their companions had died, Valerie swung his sword twice, left and right. A Swish, swish sounded, and as if it were a lie, two more heads fell.
Then he leaped onto a nearby table to kill the mercenaries behind them. With his cloak, it seemed as though some enormous bird was beating its wings wildly through the tavern.
Only then did the three heads fall, spraying fountains of blood across the ceiling and walls.
Splaash!
“Huh?”
The surviving mercenaries suffered a moment of cognitive dissonance before this unbelievable reality. Once the fact that their companions had died and the fact that Valerie had leaped onto the nearby table entered their minds, they could not immediately understand what they should do.
At that moment, Valerie lowered his stance as though crouching and followed with his next attack. The distance was greater, so this stroke traveled farther.
Whoosh!
A head separated from its body and spun through the air with the sound of the blade splitting the wind. Blood spun with it and sprayed all around.
The last mercenary staggered backward in shock and collapsed onto the floor. Valerie landed, then kicked them hard in the head.
Thud!
The mercenary lost consciousness for an instant. Unfortunately, their head struck the hot pot sitting over the hearth.
Clatter!
The pot fell, spilling its scalding contents over their head. The pain quickly brought them back to consciousness, but before they could escape, Valerie stomped on their head and pressed it into the blazing hearth.
Sssssizzle.
“AAAAARGH!”
The branch staff had never heard a scream like that before. It sounded like a cry echoing from the very depths of hell.
“Gaaah! Urk! Ghk! Urk...!”
The flesh around their throat melted, blocking their airway. They writhed and clawed at Valerie’s leg, but they could not free their pinned head. At last, their arm dropped limp.
Only then did Valerie lift his foot. He looked around the room. For all the havoc he had wrought, it was clean. Only one or two chairs had fallen over, and no tables had overturned.
Blood was splattered everywhere, and headless bodies lay on the floor.
Silence filled the room. Then several waitresses rolled their eyes back and fainted. Wilfred also collapsed as the strength left his legs, though fortunately, he did not lose consciousness.
Valerie shook the blood from his sword and sheathed it as he spoke to Wilfred.
Since he shook the blood off indoors rather than outside, droplets struck the wall. Of course, so much blood had already been sprayed around that a little more hardly seemed meaningful.
“It rained last night, so I’m tired. I’d like to sleep first.”
Wilfred stared blankly, unable to answer, and only nodded quickly.
Valerie briefly looked around the building, then headed toward the stairs with his companions.
When they vanished upstairs to the sound of their footsteps, Wilfred finally stared into empty space. His head, hands, and entire body shook violently.
Things had been somewhat different from what he had expected.
Valerie was certainly skilled, but the scene looked as though not a person, but some evil ghost, had swept through it. The dining room was thick with the smell of blood and roasting flesh.
In contrast, the clouds outside began to clear, and daylight finally began to break.
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