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Episode 19
“By the way… are you really okay with this, sir?”
While heading to the Zanstrik Mercenary Corps with Stelman, Piot carefully asked Sion about the situation he’d just heard.
“Hm? What are you talking about?”
“The penalty fee. Seven and a half million dien….”
“Yeah. It’s not exactly a small amount.”
In truth, “not small” didn’t even begin to cover it.
7,500,000 dien.
Roughly equivalent to 7.5 billion won in Korean currency — a massive fortune.
To spend that kind of money just to keep a single mercenary company operating for a few years?
And that didn’t even include maintenance costs. Piot was stunned. Even Jenna had been shocked when she heard.
“But why…? Is Zanstrik really worth that much?”
Sure, Zanstrik had carved out a place for itself in the major city of Alpmarin, but at the end of the day, it was just one of countless mid-tier mercenary companies across the kingdom.
And if things were bad enough that they were choosing to voluntarily withdraw from the guild, then their skill level didn’t seem that impressive either.
That was Piot’s honest impression.
“Worth…? Well, if we’re talking pure objective value, yeah, there are definitely other companies that are more skilled and stable than Zanstrik.”
“That’s exactly what I meant.”
“But those kinds of mercenaries are hard to keep under you for long.”
“Sorry… what?”
“I mean, outside of long-term escort missions, mercenaries who stick with the same employer for over a year are extremely rare.”
“Well… that’s true.”
The better they were, the more expensive they became. And mercenaries were generally meant to be short-term hired force — if you needed a stable, long-term army, you’d simply expand your regular forces instead of signing mercenary contracts.
“And as you know, I can’t create a regular army because of my status.”
A royal branch family suddenly raising private soldiers—especially during politically sensitive times like these—would be a direct invitation for accusations and pressure from both the royal family and the high nobility.
“Then isn’t it still problematic to hire mercenaries on a yearly basis?”
“Normally, yes. But my destination is very clear.”
“Ah…”
Their destination was the Duchy of Sion.
Technically they were distant relatives of the royal family—descendants of a princess from long ago—but politically, they were completely separate from the messy factional fights over the royal succession happening in the capital.
And since the Duchy of Sion was far from the capital and practically a semi-independent territory, no one would really care what Sion did there.
“Still… it seems too expensive. And there’s no guarantee they’ll follow your orders faithfully for years.”
“As for that second part, it depends on the commander. And I happen to be quite good at handling people.”
I can manage them just fine.
“Uh…”
Piot didn’t have a comeback for that. Sion smiled faintly and continued.
“And strictly speaking, it’s not even that expensive.”
“…What?”
“Zanstrik’s mercenaries—most of their fighters are at least sub-knight level.”
“Excuse me, what?”
Piot’s voice jumped slightly in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Stelman’s broad back ahead and Sion beside him.
“A mercenary company with sub-knight level fighters? Are you saying they have dozens of knights? That’s basically a knight order!”
“I’m not sure about their current state, but I’d say at least 20 or 30 of them fit that level.”
“That… how is that even possible?”
Realizing he sounded accusatory, Piot lowered his head quickly. “My apologies. It’s just… hard to believe.”
“It’s understandable. But it’s the truth. Fifty sub-knight-level fighters from Zanstrik can easily take on more than ten times their number of regular infantry. During the Oakwood Conflict, thirty of them crushed a force of five hundred. Well-trained cavalry can do that, sure, but still.”
“Wow…”
“So, think about it. Hiring thirty to forty elite fighters like that for five years, for 7.5 million dien—still think it’s too expensive?”
“It’s not cheap, but… I can’t call it expensive anymore.”
Hiring a single knight in a territory for a year typically cost hundreds of thousands of dien. Even if you estimated low at 200,000 per knight, ten knights for a year meant 2 million dien.
And while this contract included extra maintenance costs on Sion’s side, the numbers still worked out reasonably.
“Well, back in my day they weren’t much different from knights… not sure if that’s still true though.”
“Sorry? What was that?”
“Ah. Just thinking about lattes.”
“???”
Muttering something incomprehensible to this world, Sion looked ahead and grinned at the Zanstrik Mercenary Corps camp on the outskirts of Alpmarin.
Or I can just whip them into shape along the way, like I did with that bear’s old man back then.
Piot swallowed nervously as they entered the camp.
Are these guys really mercenaries?
They looked different from any mercenaries he’d seen in town. Rugged looks were common among both knights and mercenaries, but the true gap lay in discipline and atmosphere.
Among knights, maybe two or three out of ten were unruly. Among mercenaries, it was more like eight or nine out of ten.
But Zanstrik’s camp looked more like elite regular army than a ragtag merc group.
More than fifty mercenaries stood in perfect rows, at-ease but disciplined.
And this was right after Stelman had just informed them of a life-changing situation.
Any normal mercenaries would have rebelled already. Mutinying against their captain in such a situation would’ve been expected.
But these men simply looked surprised. No anger. No riot.
“…And that’s how things turned out. I’m sorry, everyone. I wanted to secure a future for us, but I was a fool. I apologize.”
Stelman struck his chest twice with his fist and bowed his head.
One of the squad leaders at the front of the formation spoke loudly.
“So what, you’re saying we’ve all been fools for following a fool like you? Stop apologizing, Captain. You’re making us feel bad.”
“At least it’s true for you.”
“Hahaha!”
Their laughter broke the tension. Sion quietly watched.
Not bad. Discipline and camaraderie are both solid.
By mercenary standards, they were easily in the top 10%.
Skill can be trained later if needed. This is good. Very good.
Then Stelman spoke again.
“The contract payment from the Jetman family will be distributed among those leaving. Total: 500,000 dien.”
Sion tilted his head.
Jetman’s total contract fee was 1.5 million dien. Normally, the down payment was 10%, but Jetman had paid 30% upfront to secure Zanstrik quickly.
That’s 450,000. The extra 50,000 must’ve come from his personal funds. So he really emptied his pockets, huh.
Apparently, Stelman had sold the camp land to pay staff severance too. They had over twenty noncombat staff, so not much was left.
He’s practically broke. Works for me, though.
Money chains could hold elite mercenaries in place just as well as loyalty.
“Those who want to leave, step forward.”
About twenty mercenaries hesitated, then stepped out.
Not bad.
Sion had expected up to half might leave. He had budgeted for 30 core members.
Those remaining were even slightly more than expected.
“Sorry, Captain. I can’t leave my wife alone for years.”
“The south is nice, but five years in one place is a bit much.”
They each explained their reasons—something not required in mercenary culture. But it showed their strong bonds.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. Riven, handle the distribution fairly.”
“Yes, Captain.”
They left without ceremony, exchanging only the Zanstrik signature gesture: two firm strikes to the chest.
Clean. Bonus points.
No squabbles. No drama. That spoke volumes about Stelman’s leadership.
He’s got flaws, but he’s not useless. Just like his father.
Sion sighed inwardly. He’d helped Stelman’s father build this company decades ago. He’d supported them simply because he’d liked their strength and integrity, not because he’d had long-term plans.
Maybe bringing them fully under my command isn’t a bad idea.
Lack of management skills? That could be fixed. He’d make them part of his forces properly.
At that moment, Jenna returned with two subordinates.
“Sir Sion.”
“Oh, you’re back. Everything went smoothly?”
“Yes, but… the atmosphere felt strange.”
Sion narrowed his eyes.
Jenna had gone to the Jetman representatives to cancel their contract and pay the penalty.
“At first they were just confused when we offered to pay. But then they started stalling, coming up with excuses to avoid canceling.”
“And?”
“I gave them the bank draft.”
A Brelian Bank draft—top credit, honored even abroad.
“And that wasn’t enough?”
“The guild staff confirmed the cancellation. But… the Jetman people were clearly up to something. I’d bet they’re planning to act after we leave the city.”
Given Jenna’s sharp instincts, Sion trusted her.
“Also, I checked: Jetman has over 300 other mercenaries hired. They could call at least a hundred on short notice.”
“Oh, really?”
A potential battle of 100 vs 40.
“That’s perfect.”
“Excuse me?”
“It means we’ll find out immediately whether these guys are worth the money… or need some intense retraining. Saves us time.”
Sion laughed genuinely, sensing that things were falling neatly into place.
(To be continued)
