SWY 67

Sharhan and Derry looked at each other in alarm. Derry, in particular, had gone deathly pale and was fumbling in a panic.

Step, step. The sound of multiple footsteps drew nearer. Sharhan’s heart pounded in his chest, and his lips went dry.

“Wh-what do we do?”

“Lie down like we’re still tied up, hands behind your back.”

Sharhan made a quick decision. He grabbed the rope from the floor, hid it against his body, and lay down so that only his bound wrists were visible. Derry quickly followed suit, turning his face toward Sharhan so they were lying face-to-face. They both closed their eyes and held their breath.

“Today’s big catch, you left it in the far cell?”

“Yes. That’s where we put the pretty ones to be presented to the Lord.”

“Seven in total, including the five the others caught and the two you brought in. Not the best haul, but not bad either. Sure, the ones for the arena are important, but the real priority is the consort candidates. Good work.”

“It’s nothing. But honestly… that bald knight almost ruined everything. Lily and I had to take precious rations and lay low for three whole days, and we only got seven.”

“You said the survivor group you infiltrated had at least thirty people. That’s why we gave you the food. And now you’re telling me you only brought back seven? If you hadn’t grabbed the inn group at the end, you’d be in deep shit with the Lord.”

“Doesn’t matter how many there are, it’s quality over quantity.”

“Were the rest in bad shape?”

“Most of them were old or sick. We tried to let the ones who were weak get culled by the corpses and only brought back the healthy ones. But how were we supposed to know the bald knight’s unit would show up? They didn’t recognize me, so I just pretended to be a fellow survivor. And then, like a gift from above, the real prize walked right into our lap.”

The voice of the man boasting about his accomplishments was unmistakable. It was Sam, the same voice Sharhan had heard just before losing consciousness.

‘The “real prize” must be us, our group.’

Sharhan clenched his jaw, swallowing down the boiling anger threatening to escape. Sam continued.

“The bald knight’s squad was known for being skilled, and yet they got taken down easily. That tells you how strong the prize must be. I decided to keep playing the harmless survivor, and then they offered us food. That’s when it hit me, didn’t Sir Roman say they got an apothecary to make a paralytic, and when they gave it to a slave, he collapsed exactly eight hours later? I figured the food those knights had brought was too generous, it had to be laced with something. When we go on hunts, we’re given food, but not in that kind of quantity. So Lily and I didn’t eat it. We followed them to the inn and secretly left a mark. Thanks to that, Sir Roman’s men found us and helped take the inn survivors.”

“You figured out the paralytic… Your instincts are impressive, I’ll give you that.”

“Well, Lily and I used to live off pickpocketing and cons. Quick thinking and reading people is what we’re good at. I’m good at acting too, which is how we blended in so well.”

“Watch it, you’re under Lord Delos now, part of Sir Roman’s unit. Don’t go bragging about pickpocketing and scams, it lowers your worth.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be careful.”

“If the one you brought in pleases the Lord, he might promote you. That’d make you deputy commander. Of course, it all depends on the Lord’s satisfaction.”

“Th-then I might actually become deputy commander?”

“Of course. With that title, you get more food… and you know what else you get to enjoy.”

Hearing their conversation made Sharhan sick to his stomach. He’d known they kept going on about some “lord,” but now he realized they were giving each other titles like knights and commanders.

‘Knights? These scum? Don’t make me laugh.’

Knights weren’t just warriors, they carried honor. These vermin weren’t even fit to clean a real knight’s boots.

“And maybe… if I’m deputy commander, I could… choose one of the Lord’s consorts?”

“Don’t cross that line unless you want to die.”

“S-sorry.”

“Shit, even we can’t lay a hand on the Lord’s consorts!”

“I apologize… It’s just that there were more than a few I’ve always wanted to try…”

The man who called himself Sir Roman smacked his lips regretfully.

“I’ve heard he gives his discarded consorts to his retainers.”

“Sometimes, yeah. But the Lord likes them rough, so the ones he tosses are usually pretty damaged.”

“I see. Ah, did you report the bald knight’s death to the Lord?”

“He was one of the Lord’s favorites. He’s furious. That guy had been with him since his mercenary days. You better hope the one you brought pleases him. If not, we’re all in for it.”

“Don’t worry, he will. He’s top grade. I’ve seen the Lord’s taste, I’m sure this one will be perfect from head to toe.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“By the way, where was the bald knight headed with all that food?”

Their footsteps stopped right outside the cell where Sharhan was lying.

“You know the Central Mansion group?”

“Yeah. When the bald knight’s unit tried to take us, the Central Mansion guys showed up and ruined it. All but one of them were wiped out by the knight squad, though.”

“He was heading there. That place has gathered a good number of survivors. Even though we raided them, they still seem to have food. If we bring them down, we get people and supplies. Anyway, is the prize you mentioned that one with the black hair? Can’t see his face with the little guy’s head in the way.”

“Want to take a closer look? You’ll be shocked. He’s unconscious now, but I bet he’s a real handful. And you know how it is, pretty ones who fight back are even more fun.”

“Let’s have a proper look. His face is clean, but who knows about the rest of him. I’ll check. If there’s nothing wrong, we can offer him to the Lord.”

The man’s words sounded reasonable, but the intent was obvious, he meant to touch him. Sharhan swallowed quietly. They were coming inside. The “black-haired one” was undoubtedly him. If they approached to check his face, he’d have a shot.

Sharhan made a slight movement, wriggling as if he were stirring in his sleep, then subtly tapped Derry’s foot. He tilted his chin so Derry’s head covered his lips.

Prepare a fireball.

He mouthed the words carefully, and luckily, Derry blinked in understanding. He began muttering the incantation under his breath.

“Trust me. Just look.”

Sam opened the lock with a boastful laugh. A metallic clank, then the sound of the door creaking open. Footsteps approached. Sharhan could feel his heart thundering in his chest. The tension was so intense he didn’t even feel the burn on his wrist anymore.

Step. Another step. As they got closer, his throat grew dry. He had to strike when they were neither too far nor too close. If they realized the ropes were untied, it would be over. But if he acted too early, he’d miss his chance.

“Let’s see that face, w-wait, this bastard’s rope–”

That moment, Sharhan sprang up and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, choking him tightly.

“Derry!”

Derry, half-sitting up in panic, thrust a fireball at Sam.

“Fireball!”

The hastily conjured orb wasn’t big, but it struck Sam square in the chest. Fireballs created through magic wouldn’t dissipate until all the mana was consumed, or the caster dispelled it.

“AAAAGH!”

Sam screamed and rolled across the floor, engulfed in flames. Smoke filled the cell, and the stench of burning flesh stung their noses. Derry turned away, unable to watch the man die by his own spell.

It was equally sickening for Sharhan. He hated seeing people burn alive.

“W-who are you? Th-that’s magic?!”

The man Sharhan was holding, Roman, was shaking like a leaf. Watching Sam writhe and scream, he even pissed himself.

“Derry, stop.”

Derry quickly dispelled the spell, but Sam’s body was already half-burned. Dying, he stared between Sharhan and Derry with disbelief. He’d thought Derry was just an herbalist. If he’d known he was a mage, he never would’ve left him unguarded. It was his fatal mistake.

Sharhan turned from Sam and tightened his hold on Roman’s neck. Roman gagged, spitting as he gasped.

“P-please, spare me…”

“There was someone with silver hair among the people we brought from the inn, right? Where is he? Don’t tell me you… killed him?”

Sharhan’s voice trembled as he demanded to know if Lestel was still alive.