Chapter 11

Chapter 11

‘The Golden Lion of Weinburg, whom the world hailed as the second coming of the Mercenary King, turns out to have been Count Elpiers all along… How very interesting. I imagine many people would be astonished to learn this?’

‘I don’t mind if it becomes known. I have no attachment to my title, so threatening me with that fact will do you no good.’

‘Threaten you? Would I, a prince no less, stoop to something so base? What I wish to propose is long-term employment. For… ten years or so.’

A long-term contract.

It was a form of contract rarely seen in the mercenary world, where agreements were usually made job by job.

The reason was simple. There was hardly any work that could be entrusted to a mercenary over so long a span, and half of the fee for the desired period had to be paid up front.

To hire Leonard, now famous as the “Golden Lion of Weinburg,” for ten years, thirty million lark would have to be paid immediately.

‘But there is one problem. Given my position, I cannot spend a large sum on something as murky and suspicious as hiring a mercenary.’

‘No, hear me out. There’s a workaround. Let me see… your family has an heirloom, doesn’t it? Put it up at auction. Then I’ll win the bid at that price.’

The heirloom the Second Prince had singled out.

It was a sword named Raise Messer.

The sword that Count Elpiers had used, just before the empire’s founding, when he single-handedly rescued the first Emperor from danger as he was surrounded by enemies.

The first Emperor, who had taken the cracked blade away, repaired it with his own hands and returned it, had given the sword a name taken from one character of his own.

Few physical relics of the first Emperor remained to the present day. For that reason, the mere fact that he had split off a character of his own name to give it was enough to lend the sword considerable value.

‘I’ll return that sword to you again as a gift. No one, not even Her Majesty my mother, will suspect me of buying a sword to bestow on a knight who has pledged loyalty to me.’

Thirty million lark.

That was exactly the principal and interest of the debt the creditor had demanded be repaid in a lump sum.

Ordinarily, Leonard would have been suspicious of a sum that matched so exquisitely, but the hope that had risen like a morning star in a pitch-dark night sky had instead dimmed his eyes.

‘Then please draw up a contract with exactly those terms.’

‘What? Are you saying you don’t trust my word? They say mercenaries value trust more than their own lives, yet you treat another man’s trust as worth less than dog dung?’

A contract was precisely what one drew up for the sake of that trust.

If the prince refused to write one, the proper thing would have been to call off the deal, but to placate the Second Prince, who was raging and ranting about insulting the imperial family, Leonard had no choice but to nod.

‘No matter what happens, you must win the sword at auction and pay me the amount you promised.’

‘How many times must I tell you not to worry?’

And so Leonard entrusted the future of the Elpiers family to a verbal contract, something he had not done even once since becoming a formal mercenary.

A verbal contract that would leave no evidence at all. It was practically a gamble. But how could he not place his stake?

‘If I can’t repay the debt, I’ll have to file for bankruptcy. Then the earldom will be gone.’

Leonard had received a commission as a mercenary from the late Countess Elpiers. To keep the earldom safe until next year, when Jenis would come of age and be able to inherit it.

From the start, he had taken over the title in the spirit of holding someone else’s belongings for a while. Once he returned the earldom to Jenis, he had intended to go back to being a mercenary.

‘If Marchioness Blair learns this, she’ll surely take back her request that I marry her.’

She had told him she didn’t care whether he was a bastard or a former mercenary, but she would surely mind if he ceased to be Count Elpiers.

‘I should have said this yesterday… No, is there really any need to tell her?’

If he refused her, Marchioness Blair would probably look for someone else.

Cleaning up after having announced him as her spouse before so many people and appearing in the papers would be hard enough, but…

Marchioness Blair was far too good to throw herself away on a man like him just because the cleanup would be hard.

With the feeling of not looking back at a tree one could never climb, Leonard quietly left the Blair residence with Edward.

* * *

Roelle Auction House on Velvet Street, hosting its first public auction in nearly a month, had been crowded with people since early evening.

“Madam, have you looked at today’s catalog? The list is extraordinary!”

“I came prepared to spend at least three million lark. I simply must win this pink ruby…”

In the Great Hall where the auction would be held, round tables were set at regular intervals, and at the center of each stood expensive wine, juice, and a variety of finger foods to be picked at with ease.

Apart from the fact that one wall had been widely arranged as a stage for the lots, the scene looked less like an auction than a banquet.

Leonard, who despised this sort of atmosphere, swallowed a sigh and went to find his seat.

‘Quite far back… Well, naturally.’

Only those who had bought a catalog in advance could attend, so every table was assigned.

The better a person’s past record, the closer to the stage they were seated, and since this was his first time attending, and as a seller no less, Leonard’s seat was inevitably pushed to the back.

Of course, he had no complaint about that. He had come only to confirm that the Second Prince would win Raise Messer as promised.

‘The Second Prince is… over there.’

The Second Prince’s seat was toward the front, fairly close to the stage.

“Ha ha, Your Highness the Second Prince, to see you in a place like this! How have you been?”

“I heard you went to the Devora coast for a restorative stay. You look splendid.”

“Is that true? I heard that the hotel stay passes at that resort are already booked three years out…”

The people surrounding the Second Prince were such famous nobles that even Leonard, with only a single year of experience in high society, knew their names.

Having given up on pushing his way in among them, Leonard fiddled with the mask covering his face.

‘Is it too conspicuous?’

Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one wearing a mask. As he watched a woman in a gorgeous dress and mask take a seat in the front and turned his head away, he doubted his own eyes.

‘Lloyd Matthias?’

Red curly hair and green eyes.

There was no mistake. The man exchanging cheerful greetings with the Second Prince was indeed Young Count Matthias.

‘That bastard was friendly with the Second Prince?’

He wasn’t fawning and pretending to know someone of higher rank, but carrying on a long conversation with a smile.

Having never imagined that those two could be on such friendly terms, Leonard was seized by an unaccountably uneasy premonition.

‘I don’t like the feel of this.’

And the instinct that had saved him in so many places proved right once again.

“This next item is one that I’m sure all distinguished nobles will know, an item of great historical value.”

About two hours after the auction began, Raise Messer finally appeared as the last lot.

“The renowned blade of the Elpiers family, whose count saved the Great Emperor, the founder who accomplished the great feat of establishing the empire, so that it is no exaggeration to say he helped found this empire, and to whom the Great Emperor lent a portion of his own name: Raise Messer!”

It was an item four hundred years old. For that reason, the crystal case protecting the sword gleamed brighter than the worn blade itself.

He acknowledged its historical value, but was it truly a treasure grand enough to close an auction? Well.

Unlike the auctioneer’s dazzling description, the people, disappointed by how ordinary the sword actually looked, murmured in deflated voices.

“That’s the famous Raise Messer? It’s rather…”

“It’s just a piece of junk.”

And several people said just what Leonard had expected, in no small voice.

“Even so, putting up for auction something touched by the hand of the first Emperor…”

“I heard he was a mercenary, and he seems to know nothing but money. Displaying for all to see how far the Elpiers family’s dignity has fallen for a few coins.”

“Why on earth would he make such a choice? He could have borrowed from his fiancée instead.”

“Perhaps she already refused him? Marchioness Blair never invests where there’s no profit.”

Leonard let every one of those sharp, dagger-like remarks in one ear and out the other.

Dignity? Honor? Those too were things that mattered only while one was alive. In a situation on the brink of starvation, how could honor and dignity put food in his mouth?

‘And it’s not just a few coins.’

Thirty million lark. Leonard waited only for the Second Prince to speak that amount.

But.

“Now then, bidding will start from the reserve price of one hundred thousand lark! Those wishing to purchase, please raise your paddle. …No one?”

Unlike a moment ago, when it had been noisy, no one opened their mouth.

Leonard glared fixedly at the face of the Second Prince, visible in the distance. His hand gripping the armrest of his chair tightened with great force.

“If no one wishes to bid, Raise Messer will go unsold. Is there truly no one who wishes to purchase?”

After the auctioneer asked several times, Lloyd, who had been snickering, raised his paddle as if bestowing charity.

“One hundred ten thousand.”

“Yes, one hundred ten thousand! One hundred ten thousand has been called. Does anyone else wish to purchase? You must call one hundred twenty thousand. One hundred twenty thousand, one hundred twenty thousand?”

No one showed interest in the old sword. Not even the Second Prince, who had promised Leonard thirty million lark.

Seeing him idly flipping through the catalog with a bored face, Leonard finally realized. That from the very beginning, he’d had no intention of hiring him.

‘He was in on it with that bastard from the start…’

Glaring at the face of Lloyd, who was cackling with his friends, Leonard gritted his teeth.

The resolve he’d held, that no censure or mockery from the nobles could ever shame him, crumbled like grains of sand.

But whom could he blame?

He was the one who had foolishly not even written up a contract.

“If there are no other bidders, Raise Messer will be sold to Customer Number 32 for one hundred ten thousand lark. Three, two, one…”

The moment the gavel rose high, amid faint, snickering laughter, one small paddle went up.

“Ah, Customer Number 1! Customer Number 1 has raised a paddle. Please call your desired bid!”

“Two hundred thousand.”

“Yes, two hundred thousand! Two hundred thousand has been called…”

Before the auctioneer, whose face had suddenly brightened, could finish speaking.

“Three hundred thousand.”

“Pardon?”

“Five hundred thousand, one million.”

“U-um. Customer Number 1?”

The bids that climbed ceaselessly without pause all belonged to Customer Number 1. The ringing woman’s voice did not stop there and went on.

“Two million, three million, five million.”

“Ju-just a moment. Customer Number 1, please calm down. It is forbidden for one person to raise the bid consecutively.”

“Oh, is that so? I didn’t know.”

The woman sighed pointedly and continued.

“I had expected a fierce competition. But since there are no rivals, I thought I’d have to bid alone.”

From where Leonard sat, Customer Number 1 was not visible.

But the voice that reached him was so familiar that guessing her identity was not at all difficult.

“That is the rule at our auction house. Please call the final price you desire.”

“A minimum of one hundred million, a maximum of five hundred million.”

“…Pardon?”

As if cold water had been thrown over the room, a silence full of shock settled inside the auction house.

While everyone doubted their ears and watched only Customer Number 1, the auctioneer, belatedly collecting himself, asked again as if to confirm.

“Y-you desire a winning bid of how much…?”

“A minimum of one hundred million and a maximum of five hundred million, I said. Ah, is it not allowed to put it so vaguely?”

Thanks to the silence, so deep one could have heard a pin drop, Leonard could finally be certain.

That the voice, mixed with a faint sneer aimed at who knew whom, belonged to the woman who had said with such confidence that she would erase his flaws.

“Let’s compromise, then. Three hundred million.”