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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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“But you explained it as if you were already aware of Count Bosha’s existence. How did you know?”
“You didn’t react at all when Baron Rubila mentioned him.”
After confirming that the man knocked unconscious by the iron door was actually dead, Eldmia emerged with the sole survivor, the shapeshifter woman—henceforth referred to as Mongsoon—and casually re-positioned the crumpled door.
He posed his question, and Mongsoon replied with an air of nonchalance.
“Couldn’t I just be a simple madman?”
“I was one of the people tailing you today, Eldmia-nim. Someone meticulous enough to use reflections in necklaces to check for surveillance isn’t likely a simple lunatic.”
“What? You noticed that?”
“Unlike the others, I’m a professional.”
Huh.
And yet she was just playing along with the others?
That was even more baffling.
But judging by her inability to recognize that a true madman is a cold and calculating one, she was still naive.
“So, that contract thing is full of loopholes unless it’s very specific?”
“That’s correct. It’s the Church’s policy, and something all clients who commission the Church must accept.”
Eldmia wondered if anyone could confidently hire them without a comprehensive guidebook, but the ability to change faces was undeniably appealing.
“How much does it cost to hire a Church member?”
“It varies by individual.”
“Of course, it depends on their success rate. But there must be a base price, right?”
“No. I’m referring to the client.”
As Eldmia casually toppled some items near the entrance to block the passageway and made his way out of the building, Mongsoon continued to cooperate, explaining,
“We judge the importance of a task based on the client’s worth. The hiring cost is adjusted accordingly.”
“Worth? So, if the King hires you, it’s cheaper?”
“Worth isn’t determined by worldly power, but through divine oracle.”
“Wait, are you saying a god literally tells you how much a person is worth?”
Eldmia was so taken aback by the absurdity that he couldn’t maintain his composure.
Mongsoon’s face twitched.
Was she… laughing?
And at such a bizarre moment?
“Pfft, no, that’s not it. Divine oracles are difficult to express in words, but it’s an evaluation of the client’s intended action, its impact on the world, and whether it’s within the client’s capabilities.”
“I thought it was a god obsessed with money.”
“There’s no such god. Money doesn’t ascend to heaven.”
“True.”
Even the God of Commerce values the act of trade, not money itself.
Hearing this explanation, Eldmia grew even more curious about Mongsoon.
“So, you said the price for buying someone’s life is higher. Do you know what Count Bosha’s worth was, that he chose to hire you at a regular price instead of paying for your life?”
“Of course. The oracle isn’t received through someone else; the one carrying out the commission receives it directly. I assessed his worth.”
“And how much was it?”
“The price he should have paid for my life was 50 Merchant Guild gold coins.”
Eldmia deserved a round of applause for not stopping in his tracks at Mongsoon’s reply.
That meant 100 regular gold coins!
“Without questioning your Church’s doctrines, are there really people who pay that much for your lives?”
“As I said, it depends on the person. In some cases, people risk their lives for just two silver coins.”
The price range was incredibly flexible.
If there was a reasonable price, Eldmia would have considered re-hiring her to reduce variables, but it was out of the question now.
As he reeled from the exorbitant price, Mongsoon spoke as if reading his mind.
“You don’t need to worry about that right now, Eldmia-nim. Think of it this way: you spared a life worth 50 Merchant Guild gold coins. I will cooperate accordingly.”
Even if their worth differed according to the Church’s doctrines, her words were reassuring. Sparing her life felt worthwhile.
Bringing Mongsoon back to the mansion, Eldmia checked if Lord Ekaf had returned, but he hadn’t.
He suspected an all-night emergency meeting, but he couldn’t wait indefinitely.
He decided to explain the situation to Cheryl and entrust Mongsoon to her.
“Dream worshippers… How do you keep finding these rare individuals?”
“Rare?”
“You saw the power she was granted, right? That can’t be common.”
Apparently, her rank was lower than a Saint, but she received similar treatment within the Church.
There were supposedly only four such individuals per generation.
Eldmia was impressed that Bosha had managed to find one.
“Anyway, I’m busy, so I’ll ask you a favor. Asirye and I are going to destroy a slave trading operation.”
“Didn’t you say tomorrow?”
“I did, but after hearing her story, I changed my mind. We can attack now.”
The original plan was to systematically dismantle Bosha’s illegal businesses while he was attending the trial.
This was to exploit the fact that no one could enter or leave the trial venue during proceedings, delaying any potential countermeasures from Bosha.
But thanks to Mongsoon, that elaborate plan was unnecessary.
“It’s certain. It was often mentioned during discussions with other conspirators. All of Count Bosha’s subordinates report to him on the same day.”
Since Mongsoon had reported to Bosha the previous day, Eldmia could wreak havoc for the next four days without worrying about Bosha finding out.
“To think I’d resolve this long-standing grudge so unexpectedly.”
Smiling at the sheer joy of it, Eldmia turned to Asirye, who was already prepared, and mirrored his grin.
“You look very happy, Eldi.”
“Of course. I don’t know what Bosha looks like, but imagining his despair when he finds out is exhilarating.”
“Hee hee hee. I’m happy if Eldi is happy.”
Since he was involved in treason, he must have some forces at his disposal, right?
Eldmia had been looking for an opportunity to practice fighting against larger groups, and this was perfect.
He’d show them what it meant to turn their forces and resources into corpses and ashes.
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Eldmia quickly understood why Zikmel had mentioned the slave traders first when asked for the nearest location.
“So, those tents I thought belonged to a traveling circus are actually run by those damned slave traders?”
Having lived in the capital for over a year and a half, and having done his fair share of adventuring, Eldmia was confident he knew what lay beyond the outer walls.
He was wrong.
He honestly hadn’t imagined that those tents, identical to the circus tents he’d seen in movies, were sites of human rights violations.
“I thought their location was odd. Turns out they put some thought into it.”
It was deceptively close to the main roads, yet distanced from the capital, and far from areas frequented by monsters.
With adequate security, it was a safe location.
And it was conveniently outside the flagged patrol routes of the capital’s patrol units.
It was a perfect spot: patrols rarely came by, customers could access it easily, and there was no need to worry about monsters or bandits.
Observing the scene from a nearby hill, Eldmia was dumbfounded, but Asirye seemed to have different feelings.
“Hee hee. It’s been a while since I’ve done a raid like this. Brings back memories.”
“Memories?”
“I clashed with elf hunters a lot when I lived in the forest.”
Eldmia almost asked how long ago that was, but his commendable patience held him back.
“Are there any similarities in their camp layout?”
“Hmm, not really. But that’s actually a good thing. They’re here to sell slaves, not capture them, right? And they’ve been doing this for a while, so they’re focused on appearances rather than efficiency.”
Asirye explained that elf hunter camps were designed for immediate response to attacks from any direction.
Their tents were low to the ground, and torches and bonfires were strategically placed to eliminate blind spots.
These guys were the opposite.
“It’s about creating an atmosphere. I heard this from a merchant a long time ago: even someone with no intention of buying can be tempted under the right circumstances.”
To encourage illicit behavior, they held their market at night, creating a dark and shady atmosphere.
The paths for customers were well-lit and ornate, while areas outside their view were intentionally dim and quiet.
Naturally, there was no chance of a coordinated response to an attack from the shadows.
“Ambushes are always the best.”
“You’re right. Unlike those superficial knights, Eldi is clever.”
As Asirye stood on her tiptoes to pat his head, Eldmia bent down, enjoying the rising excitement.
Their setup might have been effective for business, but tonight, it would be their downfall.
The thought of the slaves gaining freedom and the slave traders’ souls being liberated from their physical shells made his muscles pump with anticipation.
“Imagine those customers paying upfront, expecting their slaves to arrive tomorrow.”
“Right? They’ll lie in bed, full of anticipation, completely unaware that the merchants are dead and the slaves are free.”
They laughed, genuinely delighted by the impending misfortune of their enemies.
Shared joy is doubled joy, after all.
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[Its ambush time!]
Completely real and logical thought processes from the two of them