Chapter 25: Baptism

Urich and his mercenaries finally reached the city after traveling through four other small towns and territories. As soon as they arrived, the mercenaries were swept up by the city’s vibrant atmosphere and were cracking jokes.

“I’m telling you, man! Her tits were as big as your head.”

“Shut up, what kind of a woman has tits that big?”

“Man, I swear, they were huge! Why won’t you just believe me?”

“I’d be more believable if you told me that your dick was the size of my forearm.”

The mercenaries bantered. Since Urich’s mercenary squad was a relatively small squad, one or two inns were more than enough for everyone to stay in.

“God dammit, we’re finally done with camping,” Donovan said as he scratched his head. Whenever the squad wasn’t able to reach a city by sunset, they had to settle for a campout. Small villages never had the facilities to host a mercenary squad, so the days they found a big barn to stay in were considered lucky days.

“There should be some decent work for us here,” Bachman remarked as he looked at the busy streets.

“What’s the name of this city?” Urich asked, and Bachman thought for a second.

“This is the city of Havilond. They get a lot of commercial activity thanks to their good geographical location. I’ve been here a few times when I was working as a porter before the whole gladiator stint.”

Bachman was quite erudite. He had learned and experienced many different things during his time as a fisherman and other jobs he had before he became a gladiator.

The city of Havilond had plenty of inns, fittingly for a commercial city. Most operated the ground floor as taverns and had bedrooms on the periphery of the ground floor and mostly on the second floor. Urich and his mercenaries rented the entirety of one of the larger inns.

“From now on, every day costs us money. If we don’t find a big job in this city, we might end up sleeping on the streets,” Bachman warned his fellow mercenaries as he unpacked his things.

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get some drinks!” Urich dragged Bachman down to the tavern floor. n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Are those guys the ‘Urich’s Brotherhood’ mercenaries?”

“The ones that stopped the Silver Lions?”

“Wow, they really are a small squad. I don’t think they even have thirty.”

“They stopped the Silver Lions with that few men?”

“I heard they did in fact fight the Silver Lions.”

The customers of the tavern chattered among themselves as they looked at Urich’s Brotherhood. It seemed like the hyped-up mercenaries had been spreading their own names around town already.

“Hah, that’s right. We’re the famous Urich’s Brotherhood! Brothers of the barbarian leader Urich!”

“Yup, the Silver Lions were decent opponents. I almost got my head cut off.”

The mercenaries were busy praising themselves, but no one bothered to stop them. After all, more fame was never a bad thing for a mercenary squad because it made more higher-paying jobs roll in. For smaller mercenary squads, the only thing that guaranteed their paychecks was their reputation.

“I told them to spread the word and show off a bit. We have to let the people know that we’re here,” Donovan said to Urich. He had just finished unpacking his luggage.

“Good, good, it’s all good stuff. Now, what do we have to do?” Urich looked at the mercenaries with a smile on his face. Even though he was technically their leader, he always asked for the opinion of his mercenaries. It was thanks to this attitude that no one held anything against him being their leader, including even Donovan. He respected that Urich treated everyone fairly, regardless of their personal issues.

‘My Stone Axe brothers are not here with me, but in this land, these guys are my brothers.’

Urich swore to himself that he would consider the mercenaries who fought shoulder-to-shoulder with him as his brothers.

“First, we have to find work and gather some intel. There’s probably a bigger market for mercenaries in a city like this—even if it’s just a bodyguard job. But that doesn’t mean that the ones who aren’t doing the job search can be lazy with booze and women. They’ll have to grease and polish the weapons and armor that we didn’t get to while we were camping,” Donovan said coldly.

“I’ll take three with me to go out to gather that intel. Donovan, you take care of the maintenance crew,” Bachman, the most sociable out of the four influential figures, stepped forward first. Donovan nodded.

“I’ve got to go somewhere. You’ll have to take me out of the schedule, I’m sorry,” Sven said as he quietly raised his hand. His voice was low and heavy, and that along with his bushy beard made him seem like the eldest in the squad.

“Where are you going?” Urich asked.

“A city like this must have a slave market.”

“Yeah, probably. But what about it? You’re not trying to go back to being a slave, are you? You can make it into your Field of Swords as a mercenary too, gramps,” Urich liked Sven. He gave a feeling that was similar to the warriors back in his tribe.

“There’s a good chance that my people are being sold as slaves. If the money allows, I want to save at least one of them.”

Nobody had anything to say to Sven. There wasn’t a single mercenary who wouldn’t be okay with Sven saving his own people who were traded as slaves.

“I’ll go with Grandpa Sven. Donovan and Bachman, I’m leaving the rest to you guys.”

Urich grabbed only his sword and sheathed it by his belt before leaving the inn with Sven.

“Hey, gramps, how old are you? I can’t tell because of all the hair and beard that’s covering your face.

Urich and Sven walked onto the street. Anyone who was walking in the opposite direction made way for the two burly barbarians as they passed by.

“I’m not sure, kid. I stopped keeping track of my age after my coming-of-age ceremony.”

“Gramps, I’m the leader. You know that, right? Are you still going to call me a kid?”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re young, bahaha!” Sven let out a raspy laugh. He searched for the slave market as he stroked his spit-stained beard. The slave market of this city was large since it was a commercial city.

“How about we get some female slaves for our squad? Like back in the gladiator days. What do you think?” Urich suggested as he looked at the stripped-down women. They kept their faces down as they waited for their owners. Passersby groped their bodies as they walked by.

“We don’t even have Horus anymore... we’d better not. No woman can keep their sanity after being passed around by our men—they won’t even feel like humans anymore. It was only possible then because Horus knew how to take care of them.”

“You were a slave, too, gramps.”

“My body may have been, but my soul was free.”

“Hah, those are some fancy words there,” Urich clicked his tongue.

“My soul was always toward the Field of Swords. Our forefather Ulgaro is waiting for me there.”

“Ulgaro? Whatever. Just keep looking around.”

Urich took in the scene of the slave market as he whistled a tune. Dozens of slaves were being traded like objects—that’s all they were in this part of the world.

Cling.

Sven had brought with him almost all of the money that he had left. It was just enough to buy a slave.

“Hmm,” Sven searched the slave market carefully. He picked an ideal candidate, walked up to him, and whispered in his ear, “Choose, brother. Are you going to live your life as a slave, or come with me to the Field of Swords?”

The chained-up northern slave abruptly opened his eyes and looked at Sven. They spoke in the northern language, so no one else could understand their conversation.

“I choose to go to the Field, where Ulgaro awaits, my brother,” the northerner answered with conviction. At his words, Sven negotiated his price with the trader and paid for his freedom. After confirming the amount handed over by Sven, the slave trader released the northerner.

Clunk.

The freed northerner glared at the slave trader with murderous intent. He spewed a series of slurs in a foreign language.

“That’s enough. Are you trying to get executed right here by the guards?” Sven held the northerner back.

“Is he going to join our squad?” Urich asked Sven as he looked at the newly freed man. Sven discussed something with the man in their language and then answered.

“This man is a warrior. We saved him from the fate of dying a rugged, laborious death of a slave and now, he’s on his way to the Field. He will be the most loyal warrior to our squad, just like I am.”

Sven was a stoic warrior. No one in the mercenary squad had ever seen him wasting his money on luxury, as he saved every cil he earned to free his people.

“If my brothers were being kept as slaves, I would have done the same thing as you just did, old man. Even if that meant spilling some blood...” Urich trailed off with a mutter.

“Be wary of your youthful passion, Urich. Patience can be a necessary virtue at times,” Sven advised Urich, who opened his eyes widely and smiled.

“I’m a very patient man, Sven. I just know when to use it, and when not to.”

Sven squinted at Urich. Urich was a young and strong warrior. Anyone could tell that he was going to be great. He wanted to stay by his side and support him for as long as possible.

Urich and Sven returned to the inn where the mercenaries were staying. By sundown, the men who had gone out to collect intel trickled back in.

“We found a good job, Urich. It comes directly from the lord here,” Bachman said as he ordered a beer. He grabbed a seat and massaged his tired legs after walking around the whole day.

“Directly from the lord, huh?”

“It looks like he’s looking for mercenaries to assist the regular army in their bandit extermination. Hear me out, Urich. This is the city. This isn’t a small-time noble like before—he’s the real deal! We can talk our way into a big pay. It’ll probably be more than enough to get you out of those raggedy leather armor!”

“Hey, I like this. Metal armors aren’t my style,” Urich waved him off.

“Whatever. We have a meeting with him tomorrow. We’ll have a chat with him then,” Bachman said as he patted Urich on the back. Urich showed a faint smile.

“I know we technically don’t have the job just yet, but let’s drink this night away! Life is short and...”

“There’s a shit-ton to drink! Ho!”

The mercenaries emptied their pints in the blink of an eye and slammed the tables. The innkeeper shook his head as the sound of his tables cracking echoed throughout the tavern.

* * *

At the center of the city of Havilond was the inner wall. The outer walls protected the entire city, whereas the inside of the inner walls was where the nobles resided. An urbanized territory like this city was wealthy and sturdy. They were the focal points of their respective regions.

Step, step.

Urich and a few other mercenaries entered the inner walls. A servant served as their guide.

“Woah, what an incredibly well-built castle,” Bachman remarked in awe as he looked at the hallways of the inner castle. The windows were made of tinted glass, which made the light shine in different colors.

“Did a person make these sculptures?” Urich asked after seeing the human busts displayed along the hallway. They were detailed and intricately carved, like real people. Urich’s eyes darted from one artwork to the next.

‘Look at this barbarian. This is the masterpiece of civilization.’

The servant felt undeservingly smug as if the sculptures were his own work. The war tale of Urich’s Brotherhood had made its way into the city of Haviland through the mouths of the bards.

“Please keep your hands off the busts. These are of the past lords, so if they were to break... no amount of money could replace...” the servant said snobbishly, then opened his eyes wide.

“Huh? Did you say something? Hmm?” Urich turned his head and hit one of the busts with his shoulder. It tipped over and fell to the floor.

“Oops, I almost broke one,” Urich said casually as he nimbly caught the falling bust with his toes. It was practically a trick.

“Eek!” The servant gasped and returned the bust to its stand.

“You said this thing is expensive, right? If it’s so expensive, then keep it in a safer place! It’s getting in my way because you just put it anywhere,” Urich put the blame on the servant. The other mercenaries chuckled behind him.

“I-I’ll bring you to the lord right away so please follow me. Do not touch anything else, please!” The servant barked. Urich was disappointed that he couldn’t satisfy his curiosity.

‘This is all amazing. This ‘civilization’ thing that these people have founded is incredible.’

Urich was, quite honestly, amazed and impressed. The writing, art, and architecture that the civilized people have created were all mesmerizingly beautiful to him.