Chapter 77. Imperial Capital (2)

The Outer Gods of the Theocracy.

Until World Scenario 3.0, they were beings shrouded in mystery.

Of course, since they were a major part of the lore for the Theocracy faction, the final boss of 3.0, many players tried to find hidden elements.

I, too, poured hundreds of hours into it, but I didn't find much.

There was only a brief description that the Outer Gods were alien beings trying to toy with the world and destroy all races, and their goal was to descend upon this land using their servants, the Theocracy.

After learning that an Outer God would actually descend if the Theocracy succeeded in their ritual, I intentionally induced the descent to analyze it further, but….

‘…It was just a game over.’

Tactics and all that were useless; it was just a wipe.

With absurd effects like all my soldiers suddenly exploding or the entire ground being covered in lava.

Well, the game was famous for its shitty balance from the beginning, so I just accepted it.

And it wasn't that difficult to stop the Theocracy from summoning an Outer God.

The point is that until the last World Scenario, the Outer Gods were irresistible, disaster-like, unknown beings.

Not some character that ticks like a broken desk clock.

‘Tick-tock?’

Is this for real?

Even if it was a sacred relic and not the main body.

How on earth was I supposed to understand this situation?

Do Outer Gods also suffer from mental illness?

‘Tick-tock…?’

Come to think of it, the ‘Nameless Tentacle’ had been strange from the beginning.

It was looking for sweets like cookies and candy, then spouting nonsense like ‘I’ve found myself’ or ‘what is the meaning of life?’.

At least Kkumteuli could speak human language.

But what was this.

‘Tick-tock tick-tock….’

‘Hmm. Right. Master, our Tick-Tocky is asking why you’re discriminating against its language.’

‘Tick-tock…!’

‘Hmm, that’s right. Anyway, it says it wants to be a help to you, Master. Hoho, it seems my education was effective. So, for tomorrow’s cotton candy….’

“…….”

Right.

As I thought, that one was the cause.

It seemed it had been doing some brainwashing or gaslighting in the subspace under the guise of education.

By the way, gaslighting an Outer God.

“Commander, are you alright?”

“Ah, yes… of course.”

The Archbishop, his face flushed red, looked at me with a worried expression.

Feeling a throbbing in my temples for some reason, I chugged the rest of the wine from the bottle.

Well, I guess it was a relief that it wasn't rampaging to destroy the world.

It seemed more research on the sacred relics was needed.

I also needed to find out why ‘Warrior’s Insight’ was enhanced when two sacred relics were gathered.

“Hiccup! It was a pleasure today, Commander!”

I left the church, seen off by the brightly smiling Archbishop.

The sun had already set.

I walked the streets, looking at the sky where a gentle purple hue remained.

It was a festival period.

Even though the sun had set, the city's night was not over.

“Pour more! More, more!”

“Hehehe, long live His Majesty the Emperor! May the Empire last forever!”

“Hooray!”

“One more lamb skewer here! Oops, I could just take it, right? Long live His Majesty the Emperor!”

The streets were as bright as day.

Holding the empty wine bottle, I naturally blended into the crowd in the square.

With makeshift tables, chairs, and even a temporary stage set up around the fountain, food was being handed out from street stalls.

I picked up a chicken skewer and walked.

Now that I had visited the church, my work for today was done.

There were about two things left.

‘Handling compensation for the deceased mercenary band members, and recruiting a swordsmanship master.’

I had left the compensation issue to Bart.

I intended to visit the bereaved families living in the Imperial Capital in person if possible.

It would probably be more comforting to visit them as a Baron, after the conferment ceremony.

It would mean that I hadn't forgotten the deaths of the members even after becoming a noble.

‘The swordsmanship master is the problem.’

I needed a master who could encompass proper swordsmanship, and furthermore, martial arts skills.

In order to fully utilize the skills copied with [Warrior’s Insight].

The previous spar had helped me break through a wall a little, but rather, after breaking through one wall, it felt more certain that I had a long way to go.

It would be nice to have Olif as a master, if possible.

However, for some reason, he flatly refused.

‘If what you desire, Commander, is to use completely different techniques together, then I am sorry, but you will need a new master.’

‘Do I really have to?’

‘You must. I have seen many geniuses, but I have never seen anyone like you, Commander. I am sorry that I cannot be of help.’

It was a shame, but it couldn't be helped.

Still, Olif told me the qualities suitable for my master.

Strangely, those characteristics perfectly matched a hero I had been considering recruiting for some time.

A hero under the command of the Northern Archduke, who happened to be staying in the Imperial Capital.

His name was Randal.

‘The Immortal Randal?’

Kkumteuli feigned knowledge.

By the way, this guy, I was sure he said he couldn't read thoughts before.

Was it a lie?

‘Sorry for deceiving you. Serious goody-two-shoes like you, Master, would try to throw me away immediately if I said I could read your thoughts….’

‘Should I throw you away right now?’

‘I-I can’t read your deep inner thoughts! The same goes for what you think of as secrets, Master! This is for real! I swear on our contract!’

When I opened the subspace, I could see the tentacles frantically flailing.

I glared at it for a moment as a warning and then closed the subspace.

Well, it was for the better.

Being able to summon it with just a thought would be better in terms of both security and convenience.

‘I will serve you faithfully. Together with our Tick-Tocky.’

‘Tick-tock!’

‘…….’

Anyway, back to the main topic.

Randal, whom I had my eye on as a candidate for a swordsmanship master, was a hero from the Northern Archduchy who would soon acquire the epithet ‘The Immortal Randal’.

Like his title ‘Immortal’, he was one of the few heroes in this game who could single-handedly perform the role of a one-man army.

Unfortunately, for now, he was more infamous as the ‘Noble Skull-Crusher’.

This was related to his difficult recruitment conditions.

And for good reason, as his recruitment event was quite unique and dangerous.

“Commander!”

“Karen?”

It seemed I had reached the vicinity of the mansion.

From a distance, Karen waved and approached me.

I waited for her to come closer and looked around.

The festival's heat had spread to the vicinity of the mansion complex where we were staying.

Street vendors were emitting delicious smells along the beautifully decorated garden-like paths between the mansions, and as if arranged beforehand, some of the servants were entertaining the guests with alcohol and food.

If the street festival was a joyous party for all ages, this place had the feel of a more luxurious banquet hall.

Though the loud laughter and chatter from being drunk were the same.

“Oh, did you drink this whole bottle by yourself?”

“It just happened.”

“Hee, don’t tell me you’re already drunk?”

“Your face is red too, you know?”

Karen stuck out her tongue and laughed.

“Hehe, you caught me.”

She was drunk.

“Let’s go around together. You always just slip away somewhere by yourself….”

It was certain.

“Do as you please.”

With her elven blood, she wasn't a bad guide even when drunk.

I wandered around the inside of the mansion complex with the company commander who was giggling with a red face.

Members who were enjoying the festival here and there greeted us.

Besides us, various other guests were staying in the mansion complex.

Reinforcements from the Northern Archduchy, a dwarven delegation, church knights from the Theocracy, nobles from the provinces, and so on.

The peculiar thing was that everyone, despite being strangers, greeted us cheerfully and approached us.

Was it because of the Western-like Imperial culture?

Or was everyone an extreme E on the MBTI?

“Oh, a face I haven't seen before! I am Pamas of the Sandstorm Merchant Guild.”

“I am the Commander of the Ash Mercenary Band.”

“Ooh, the hero of the civil war!”

“The gray-haired mercenary commander! I have heard the rumors as well.”

“Huh? Ash? The holy knight of Wolfskrig?”

It was a bit burdensome to have a drunk face suddenly thrust at me.

Still, it was an opportunity to build up my fame and connections, so I moved around quite actively.

I didn't have to worry about getting drunk or suffering from a hangover.

It was thanks to a trait I had randomly gotten before, called [Fatigue is from the Liver].

[Achievement unlocked! Fame has reached 100.]

[You will acquire a random trait.]

[What a Bolt from the Blue!]

[Decreases the chance of being struck by lightning.]

Unfortunately, the trait I got as a result was another dud.

What on earth was I supposed to use this for?

Were only strange traits added in the 4.0 update?

Fortunately, there was an unexpected harvest as well.

It was thanks to a person I encountered when the festival was slowly reaching its peak.

“Oh, so you’re Commander Ash.”

“Greetings, Your Highness the Archduke.”

The master of the Northern Archduchy.

Archduke Ian Petroke.

I thought he would be in the Imperial Palace or a separate palace for entertaining guests, but it seemed he was staying with the reinforcements he had brought.

The Archduke, a giant of a man nearly 2 meters tall, suddenly held out his fist.

A traditional Northern greeting.

“It seems the Frostwolf has lent his aid. I really wanted to meet you, the hero of the civil war.”

“The honor is all mine.”

I brought my fist to meet his.

The Archduke’s large mouth, holding a smile, grew to about twice its size.

[[Freelancer] is activated.]

[‘Ian Petroke’'s favorability has increased significantly.]

He let out a pleasant laugh as a bonus.

Come to think of it, the Northern Archduke liked war heroes.

To be precise, he liked fighting and war, and he liked the heroes who distinguished themselves in those wars.

It was not for nothing that he was holding back the powerful barbarians and yetis of the north.

By the way, this was my chance.

Over there, a big warrior was chugging strong wine from a bottle.

He was the man I had my eye on as a candidate for a swordsmanship master.

After some casual conversation, I mentioned him discreetly.

“That big man drinking over there.”

“Ah, you mean Randal?”

“Yes, is that the northern warrior, Randal?”

“It is. He follows me now. Are you interested?”

Curiosity flickered in the Archduke’s eyes.

I spoke honestly.

“I would like to have him under my command.”

“Hiccup. W-what? Commander?”

‘Huh? Master?’

A surprised Karen hiccupped.

What's with everyone?

Is this the first time you've seen a player transfer negotiation?

* * *

I had read an article about the common traits of successful leaders.

I couldn't understand all the economic terms mixed with all sorts of Chinese characters and English, but I could understand one thing.

Successful leaders were all full of greed for talent.

The same went for commanders.

‘Impressive. To say you want to take my man in front of me.’

Of course, it was not often that one would openly demand someone else’s talent.

Even if one were to poach talent from another organization, it was common to approach the person first or express the intention to recruit indirectly.

I was not an impolite person either.

However, the Northern Archduke was a bit different.

With this man, who had maxed out his manliness stat, underhanded tactics or beating around the bush would have the opposite effect.

Rather, speaking directly was the orthodox method.

‘There have been many who tried underhanded tactics, but this is the first time I’ve seen a case like this.’

‘That is how serious I am, Your Highness the Archduke.’

‘Hahahaha! You have spirit. Good. I will ask for his opinion.’

The result was a willing consent.

However, it was only half-hearted.

Because the recruitment of a legendary hero who could become a one-man army could not be achieved so easily.

No matter how much fame and favor I had built up so far.

‘But know this. I have never deliberately stopped any attempts to take him, whether through underhanded tactics or otherwise. Yet no one has taken him yet.’

‘I see.’

‘You will soon find out why.’

I didn't answer the Archduke's words, but I already knew.

It was also the reason why Randal had earned the infamous name ‘Noble Skull-Crusher’.

That was why I was warming up in the training ground from early in the morning.

The training ground was empty.

The members were groaning from hangovers.

It was the season when the dawn air was cold.

As I was warming up by lightly swinging my sword, I felt a presence behind me.

“Are you Commander Ash?”

A low, thick voice.

I turned around.

It was the warrior I had seen at the festival yesterday, Randal.

“Are you Commander Ash?”

“I am.”

Indeed, his first impression was formidable.

His sheer size seemed to create an optical illusion.

A height of over two meters.

Large hands and long limbs.

And stone-like muscles that filled his entire body to the bursting point.

“I heard you wish to have me under your command.”

He drew his sword.

It was a two-handed sword for others, but in his hands, it looked like a one-handed sword.

“Defeat me. Then I will serve you. That is the culture of the north.”

The Immortal Randal.

The great warrior of the north.

The reincarnation of the Frostwolf.

In fact, the number of playthroughs where he was available was surprisingly not that many.

Although he could not die even if thrown into the midst of millions of enemy troops in the late game if raised well, his recruitment conditions were that difficult.

For reference, separate from the matter of building favorability with the Northern Archduke, his recruitment condition was only one.

‘Achieve victory or a draw with the main hero you are playing.’

I drew my sword in response.

A sign of acceptance.

The corner of the expressionless warrior’s mouth seemed to lift slightly.

He stuck his sword into the ground of the training ground, took a string from his pocket, and tied up his shaggy, long hair.

His hand naturally moved to his waist as if to put away the pocket.

I tensed my body.

An attack.

The warrior’s hand blurred.

Fwip-

Something like a disc of light flashed and flew towards me.

[[Warrior’s Insight] is activated.]

[You have acquired a skill.]

[Randal’s Axe Throwing (Level 1)]