Manus began subtly inciting the others.
"This isn't something one person can handle. We're just doing pointless work here."
"But I heard the destination isn't far from the outskirts…"
"Heh, do you believe that? Where is it exactly? Do you know how far we'll have to go?"
"..."
"If you think about it, there are so many strange things. How could they set a destination in a forest no one's ever entered? Do they even know where it is or what we're going there for?"
"Hmm, I hadn't thought about it that way."
"Damn it! Our employer must be insane! Not just a delusional fool but one bold enough to act on it! In the end, we're all going to die!"
No one could refute Manus's words. Occasionally, there were indeed lords or nobles who, lost in their delusions, would carry out bizarre plans.
A brief silence followed, and the mood dampened. Toran, an older mercenary who had been listening quietly, frowned.
"If it weren't for the employer, we'd all be dead by now. Stop stirring up unnecessary fear."
"…I'm just nervous, that's all."
"Do you think it's common to have an employer like this? He fights at the front, trying harder than anyone to save our lives."
Nobles typically only issue orders to mercenaries; they don't fight on the front lines, especially when it's dangerous. They hire mercenaries to serve as shields, not to accomplish something together.
The mercenaries themselves accepted this as an obvious fact. But Ghislain was different. He constantly showed that he genuinely wanted to save as many lives as possible.
Toran, who was already moved by this, growled at Manus, who was trying to cause trouble.
"If it weren't for him, we'd all be dead. It's not a delusion—he has the skill to back it up. We just need to follow him."
Manus couldn't argue back, and the other mercenaries nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, he's not just using us as meat shields."
"It's clear he's different from other nobles."
"And have you seen how he commands? He's skilled. No way this is his first time."
"With an employer like him, we can trust him."
Of course, fighting powerful monsters meant injuries and deaths were inevitable.
Grumbling, Manus reminded them, "How long do you think that'll last? Sure, it's fine now, but if we keep going like this, we'll all end up dead."
What good were amazing abilities if, without rest, they'd all collapse from exhaustion eventually?
The forest was dangerous enough that without Ghislain, they'd likely have been dead already. Even the monsters at the entrance, pushed out from the center of the forest, were stronger than those outside.
They should've left while they were still alive.
That's why Manus kept bringing it up. If he tried to flee, the employer might kill him, and even if he let him go, he doubted he could make it back alone.
The best way was to incite fear among the mercenaries, pressure the employer, and try to leave with minimal penalty.
"Don't you value your life? Even as mercenaries, who seeks out death?"
Toran scoffed and rebutted, "If you're paid, you give your life. That's a mercenary."
"Idiot, what mercenary nowadays does that? We'll just be used as meat shields and die. And if it gets too dangerous, the employer will probably flee too."
What defines a skilled mercenary? Risking their life to complete a task?
No, the most skilled are those who survive the longest. Knowing when to pull back is an essential skill for a mercenary.
Trusting a noble is downright foolish. They might act caring now, but when things get risky, they'll abandon them without a second thought. That's just how nobles are.
Some of the mercenaries began to waver, swayed by Manus's realistic remarks.
'Damn, stubborn old fool!'
But the problem was men like Toran, who were so rigid.
Most of the mercenaries seemed absurdly determined to trust the employer and complete the mission.
As Manus was about to speak again, Toran grabbed him by the collar.
"Look here. The potions and medicine he's using on us are more expensive than our lives. Would you do that? Do you really think he's just using us as shields?"
At this, the mercenaries nearby turned their heads.
All eyes were on Ghislain, who was treating the wounded. Those who saw this could say nothing.
The medicine he was using on them was indeed worth more than their lives. The mercenaries, one by one, nodded and murmured among themselves.
"True, he doesn't seem like someone who'd abandon us."
"His treatment skills are remarkable. I almost thought he was a professional healer."
"And he uses potions sparingly but effectively."
Seeing the mood die down, Manus bit his lip. Toran released his grip and walked away.
"We're being paid, so let's just follow orders."
"Tch."
Spitting on the ground, Manus returned to his seat while Toran quietly watched Ghislain.
At first, he too had thought of leaving. But Ghislain was unlike any employer he'd ever encountered. He'd met courageous, skilled, and intelligent nobles. Yet, he'd never met one who treated mercenaries as human rather than expendable.
He was inspired by Ghislain, not for the money but because of the man himself.
'I might actually die here… but I want to see where this goes.'
It wasn't that he wasn't afraid of death. Manus might be right; he could very well die. But even if it meant death, he wanted to see the end of this journey.
Maybe it was a foolish decision, but if a mercenary who sells his life for money runs away for fear of death, could he truly call himself a mercenary? That was Toran's final conviction and honor as a mercenary.
"Still, our employer must have quite a bit of money. For such a poor estate, how does he manage to get all those rare medicines?"
Just as Toran said, Ghislain was sparing no expense on rare potions and medicines.
Belinda scolded him constantly because of it.
"Young master! How can you use such precious medicine and potions so recklessly? You should save them for when you're injured! This is driving me mad!"
Ghislain, wrapping a mercenary's wound in a bandage, replied, "What's the point in saving them? I brought them to use. Better to use them properly when needed."
"Then there'll be nothing left when you need it!"
"We'll figure it out then."
Belinda glared at him and grumbled, "It's bad enough you're using expensive medicine, but must you do the treatments yourself too?"
"These fools are terrible at treating injuries. Watching them makes my head spin."
Ghislain's blunt response made Belinda thump her chest in frustration.
The injured mercenary said gratefully, "Th-thank you, young lord."
"Save it. Get plenty of rest when you can. And learn some proper first-aid."
"Hehe, will do."
Seeing how mercenaries attempted to disinfect wounds with urine or plastered useless herbs, Ghislain had no choice but to step in and teach them properly.
"If you set the splint like that, the bone will misalign. And you, no more using urine. One more time, and you'll rot the wound, you fool! And why on earth are you drinking it?"
Gradually, more mercenaries felt gratitude for Ghislain's actions.
Other employers would typically leave seriously injured mercenaries to die. Saving them cost money and was a hassle.
Belinda squinted, observing Ghislain as he attended to the mercenaries.
"How does he know so much about this stuff? And he wasn't always so caring… Is it possible he's possessed by a dark mage?"
While she worried about irrelevant things, the group continued to advance. Five days into their journey, after several battles, they discovered a small lake.
"Whoa, water!"
"So refreshing!"
The mercenaries rushed to drink from the lake. Although they had water with them, it had turned warm and stale in their pouches, making it unpleasant to drink. The cool lake water instantly quenched their thirst.
Usually, Ghislain would restrict the mercenaries' movements, but he didn't stop them this time. He looked around, lost in thought.
'The route I mapped is fairly accurate.'
The path he intended to follow differed from the one the kingdom's subjugation team had taken in his previous life. Naturally, the monsters didn't appear in the same order as recorded.
So far, things had gone relatively well, with some monsters not appearing, possibly due to luck.
'From here on, the real danger begins.'
This lake marked a critical junction on the path to his destination and signaled the start of a greater threat.
[They likely began tracking us around the lake.]
Repeating this line from his memory, Ghislain addressed the group.
"We'll rest here today. Take the time to wash up and reorganize."
Following his orders, the mercenaries cleared nearby trees to secure their surroundings and set up camp.
"Young master, I'll have dinner ready for you shortly."
Knowing Ghislain's skills, Belinda rarely fought when they encountered monsters, so she was less exhausted than the others. She pulled out a small pot, filled it with water, and started making a hearty soup with spices and jerky.
"Here, eat up. You need hearty food for strength in a place like this."
"I mean, but… eating something warm alone every day feels a bit…"
"Shush! Just eat."
Belinda shoved a fork in front of his face, smiling sternly.
Ghislain reluctantly nodded, and the mercenaries around them whistled, teasing.
"Well, some of us are eating warm, tasty food while we gnaw on tough jerky."
"Why don't you cook for us too? If you're just following the young lord around without fighting, at least make us food!"
"Yeah, become the team chef! Hooray!"
"We want some warm soup too!"
Thwack!
Suddenly, a fork sliced through the air, lodging deeply into a nearby tree. It was the tree a jeering mercenary had been leaning against. He broke into a cold sweat, glancing nervously at the fork embedded beside his ear.
Belinda laughed sweetly.
"You all have hands, don't you? Cook for yourselves. I'm busy taking care of our young master."
The mercenaries nodded fervently. She had thrown that fork with deadly precision; a little more, and it might have pierced his head.
Ghislain chuckled and said to Belinda, "When there's time, make sure to look after the mercenaries too. They're all working hard."
"I'll think about it."
"And actually, I'm not very hungry, so maybe give this to someone el—"
"Complaining about food at a time like this? You remember what I did if you didn't eat right away as a child?"
Belinda pulled out another fork, waving it in front of his face.
Ghislain gave up and obediently drank his soup.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]