'An evil god.......'
Even after sleeping, Thomson didn't feel like he'd slept at all.
Because one of the continent's Three Great Sins had been mentioned.
Black mages, who lorded over death.
Necromancers, who enslaved corpses.
And lastly, worshippers of the evil gods, who venerated forgotten horrors.
'—Latia, Goddess of Justice, please shield me from the darkness.'
Right now, Thomson was walking on his own two feet toward a territory where those terrifying monsters lurked.
So he offered a prayer to the most famous deity on the continent.
'Isn't Commander Jack afraid at all?'
He looked at Jack, sitting ahead of him.
A man who intended to meet a Margrave armed with nothing but a letter of introduction.
And beyond that, had declared he'd rescue a companion from devotees of an evil god.
[I have well understood the intentions of Margrave Kranel in sending this monstrously strong mercenary. House Panier will extend a formal invitation in the near future. The Arcane Ore mines within our territory are a beautiful sight, and we look forward to meeting there.]
The letter's contents were nothing special either.
Thomson had confirmed this himself by reading it aloud.
And yet.......
"Commander Jack, a-aren't you worried about going in with no preparation?"
"I am the preparation."
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
Commander Jack merely steered the horse onward at a leisurely pace, repeating the same words.
No matter how much absurd monstrous strength and forty years of experience resided within him.......
That towering self-assurance was utterly beyond comprehension.
'Did he really do this thing called regression?'
The Kranel Margraviate, renowned as the mightiest in the Kingdom of Alton.
A place harboring devotees of the evil god, infamous across the continent for their wickedness.
Every name involved was fearsome, yet Jack showed not an ounce of intimidation. It seemed almost mystical.
RUMBLE——.
And so they finally arrived at the Kranel Margraviate.
'That's the great wall that holds back the monsters.'
To Thomson's eyes, the towering fortifications looked like the mouth of hell.
As if the territory were at war, the gates were firmly sealed and the walls bristled with armed soldiers.
"Who goes there!"
At the gatekeeper's challenge, Jack shouted.
"I've come bearing a letter from a baron!!!"
Currently, Margrave Kranel was at death's door.
His children had been fighting over the house head's seat without his say, and in the end the eldest son had handed the eldest daughter over to the inquisitor and claimed the heir's position on his own authority.
That was the publicly known version of events.
Creeeak—.
The heavy gate opened and a knight guarding it stepped out to ask.
"Who might you be, sir, that you seek the young lord?"
A fairly polite demeanor with courteous phrasing.
Atop a huge white horse and wearing mithril armor, Jack looked every bit the knight, so the response was only natural.
Jack handed over the letter of introduction.
The knight said he needed a moment to verify and guided them to a guardhouse inside the gates.
'Will that actually work?'
Thomson tilted his head.
He figured there was no way a Margrave would agree to meet a mercenary carrying a baron's letter, when it wasn't even the baron himself.
But, lo and behold.
"His Excellency the Margrave has agreed to arrange a meeting. Please, come in."
Contrary to Thomson's expectations, they were promptly invited into the Margrave's castle.
An elderly knight even came out personally to escort them.
"I am Artong, guardian knight of the Margrave's castle."
"Jack."
On the way to the castle, the knight asked Jack.
"What is that golden coffin on your back?"
"My father's coffin. I'm escorting him home."
"Dear me......."
Thomson glimpsed a mysterious side of Commander Jack.
Wasn't the man who'd been slinging casual speech and seemed like he'd solve everything with brute force now using formal address and playing the smooth talker?
And he did it so naturally.
"The baron gave me a message to deliver in person, so I'd like to meet the young lord at the earliest opportunity."
"As a matter of fact, the young lord already said he would make time promptly after reading the letter. You should be able to meet him today."
Click.
The elderly knight showed them to a reception room and shut the door on his way out.
Only then did Jack stretch lazily and flop onto the reception room's sofa.
It was like watching a completely different person from moments ago.
"What on earth just......."
Thomson felt like he'd been bewitched.
He'd never imagined that someone who seemed to solve everything by force was capable of such diplomatic finesse.
Jack, watching Thomson's reaction, offered an explanation.
"When rescuing a hostage, you need to be flexible."
"I-I suppose so, but how did you manage to get a meeting with the young lord on the first try?"
"You wouldn't know without experience in these things. The baron's letter is saying he'll come in on the Margrave's coattails, so look after him."
So the language of nobles was different?
"Th-then the part about the mines......."
"It means he's offering to deliver Arcane Ore to the Margrave."
Thomson's eyes went wide with shock.
***
I shared some wisdom with the greenhorn Thomson.
Truth be told, I wasn't deeply experienced with this kind of social maneuvering myself.
Once my Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company reached a certain level, there was rarely any need for it.
'Never thought the struggles of my youth would come in handy like this.'
Of course, in my previous life I'd gone through my share of hardship until age twenty, which was how I'd picked up these skills.
'This time around, I need to move faster.'
Right now I had no reputation to speak of and not even a single tale of valor.
Ripping apart a mediocre knight in a territorial war only counted for so much.
A warrior's achievements spread through rumors and were proven by results.
In short, I had no results yet.
"I plan to rescue Mel and then build my name quickly."
I informed Thomson of my plan.
Didn't seem to sink in, huh?
Thomson blinked at me, but I'd been the same at his age, so I understood well enough.
"Put simply, we've infiltrated hostile territory."
I still didn't know where Mel was imprisoned.
Surveying the castle upon entry, I hadn't spotted anyone who seemed to be an evil god's devotee.
"E-evil god devotees!!!"
For now we were killing time in the reception room, but the moment I met the piece-of-shit bastard who'd sold Mel out, things would change fast.
That bastard didn't even deserve to be called Mel's brother.
A nobleman selling off his own younger sister and stealing the house head's seat?
'A bastard who deserves to be ripped apart.'
The fact that scum like him was everywhere was the reality of this kingdom.
While rescuing Mel, I devised a way to quickly and easily build my achievements.
'Restoring the Kingdom of Alton to a functioning state might not be a bad idea.'
A vague notion: by setting right a kingdom destined for ruin, I'd build the reputation of the man called Jack and of the Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company.
'The World War breaks out in two years.'
Even if I'd come back to the past, I couldn't prevent the World War.
Even if the entire Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company came back with the mobile fortress and every Mystery and power we'd secured intact, it'd still be a coin toss.
And the odds leaned toward failure.
'You can't stop the current.'
The rift between the races, dwarves, elves, beastkin and the rest, had deepened beyond repair.
Humans were busy subjugating one another, striving to build empires.
Across this vast continent there were dozens of nations, and counting the racial coalitions, the number was beyond counting.
And every last one of them drew swords and staves claiming they were in the right.
While I was lost in thought, a steward came to the reception room.
"The Margrave has granted you an audience."
"Lead the way."
I rose from my seat and followed the steward.
Walking through the Margrave's castle stirred mixed feelings.
The place was packed with armed soldiers, like a territory in the throes of a rebellion.
'Even after ousting Mel, he's still spooked.'
Where was their attention concentrated most?
Right here, the Margrave's office.
"As His Excellency the Margrave has official duties to attend to, he will not be able to spare much time. Your understanding is appreciated."
A steward who used the title of Margrave even though the house head—Mel's father—was still alive.
The whole picture proved just how rotten Mel What's-Her-Name's older brother truly was.
'Human scum who abandoned every bond of family.'
Click—.
"I have read your letter. Are you here to discuss House Panier's Arcane Ore mines?"
That's what hit me the instant the door opened.
I scanned the surroundings.
'Four escorts.'
Unlike the knight I'd killed in the territorial war, these looked considerably more seasoned.
The killing intent was thick; they had the feel of men who'd hunted humans and monsters alike without discrimination.
Of course, even against all four at once, I could win handily.
'But right now, Mel is a hostage.'
I approached the young lord calmly, bowing my head.
As I did, I studied his face.
"What is that damned house head seat even worth....... That crazy bastard! I never thought he'd report me as a heretic while Father was still alive."
Don't they say trauma lasts forever?
Right up until I turned forty, Mel hated her older brother.
Even though he was a dead man, wiped out in the dwarven bombardment, she kept trying to track him down.
Whenever she got blackout drunk, she'd go on and on about how disgustingly ugly he was until my ears nearly bled.
So I knew well.
'It's him, alright.'
Red hair.
Slyly narrowed eyes.
And lips twisted in a mean sneer.
'So Mel wasn't exaggerating. The man really does look that weaselly.'
The enemy had no idea who I was.
Meaning now was my most advantageous moment.
"There is no time for pleasantries. Let us get right to business."
As expected, Mel's brother spoke to me without a shred of suspicion.
Getting to business was exactly what I wanted.
Playing along with this pathetic act of nobility was making me nauseous.
"The baron entrusted me with a confidential message to deliver in person."
I took a few steps closer as I spoke.
The knights shifted slightly, as if to block me.
Vigilant protection was a knight's basic duty.
What would slip through that gap was the silver tongue I'd honed during my years as an unknown mercenary.
"Speak from there. These men are practically my own limbs, so nothing need be kept secret."
I tossed out whatever sounded good.
Something that would catch everyone off guard.
"During the territorial war, His Majesty the King—."
"H-His Majesty?"
I trailed off, and the man visibly panicked.
Nothing created an opening quite like bringing up the Emperor in an empire or the King in a kingdom.
The moment the big boss's name dropped, eyes went wide regardless of whether you held the rank of duke, marquis, count, viscount, or baron.
I paused again, inching closer.
"His Majesty personally......."
The trick was stopping mid-sentence.
"For heaven's sake, stop being coy and spit it out!"
Just as I'd expected, the knights' guard slipped ever so slightly.
'The distance is enough.'
In that gap, I concentrated every ounce of my monstrous strength into my legs.
My strength could be focused into any part of my body to generate explosive power.
I gathered all of it and detonated it in a single instant.
BOOM——.
If Mel was being held hostage, what was the play?
'Counter hostage with hostage—.'
I appeared before the young lord in the blink of an eye.
I seized his neck and addressed the knights.
"Move even a hair and he's a dead man."
***
'Good lord.......'
Thomson realized Jack had been the same man all along.
From the way he'd spoken deferentially with the knight to the way he'd bowed his head as he approached the young lord.
All of it had been designed for this very moment.
Commander Jack was a monster.
'How can a frame that massive look like an afterimage?'
Well over two meters tall.
Yet Jack materialized in front of the young lord as if he'd teleported.
Then he grabbed the man's neck and hoisted him into the air.
"Where is Mel?"
His style of questioning was equally grotesque.
The instant he asked, he ripped one of the young lord's arms clean off.
SPLURCH!!!
"GAAAAHHHH—."
A ghastly scream rang out.
The escort knights had drawn their swords but could do nothing but stamp their feet.
In the meantime, Jack moved naturally to Thomson's position while keeping hold of the young lord.
He'd accounted for the possibility of Thomson being taken hostage.
'Uh, uh—. A n-noble!!!'
Thomson was grateful for the Commander's consideration, but the sheer insanity of the situation had his head spinning.
"I asked where Mel is. Arms and legs add up to four. You've only got three chances left."
"The d-dungeon......."
Under Jack's outrageous coercion, the young lord began giving directions.
Thomson stuck close behind Jack, watching the rear.
That's when Jack spoke.
"Just worry about keeping yourself safe."
Was he used to this kind of thing?
Far from tense, the Commander actually seemed to be enjoying himself.
"S-stop right there!"
"Will you not release His Excellency at once?"
A deranged intruder had taken the young lord hostage, so naturally the soldiers filling the castle erupted in chaos.
But all they did was shout.
"Clear the way."
Jack said, seizing the young lord's remaining arm.
Crackle—.
The sound of something twisting echoed.
"GAAAAHH!!! E-everyone, m-move!"
At the young lord's command, they had no choice but to clear a path.
The territory's heir, neck clutched in a giant's hand.
Blood poured like a waterfall from his severed arm, and his remaining arm was grotesquely twisted.
The young lord was also an aura-wielding knight, so he wasn't about to die from this much, but.......
"A fork in the path."
Judging by Commander Jack's approach.......
To Thomson's eyes, the young lord looked like he'd be dead soon.
SPLURCH!!!
"GAAAAHH——. Wh-why?"
One of the young lord's legs was ripped off.
The reason was exceedingly simple.
"A preemptive warning in case you lead us down the wrong path."
Missing an arm and a leg, the young lord obediently guided Jack to the dungeon.
There, Thomson encountered an unbelievable figure.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Pristine white vestments adorned with a golden circle.
The most famous holy order on the continent.
The Church of Latia, which served the Goddess of Justice.
'An inquisitor who serves Lady Latia?'
Hadn't the very deity Thomson had prayed to before entering the castle been 'Latia, Goddess of Justice'?
An inquisitor in her service now stood in Jack's way.
Jack asked.
"Evil god's devotee, is Mel beyond that door?"
That's right.
The evil god Jack had spoken of was none other than 'Latia, Goddess of Justice,' who held the mightiest faith on the continent.
'Huh?'
Thomson couldn't help but feel something had gone terribly wrong.