When Lucian honored the promise without a word of hesitation, the mercenaries fell into silence as one.
Jealousy, regret, envy, greed—countless emotions rippled through the room.
Ignoring the stares pouring in from all sides, Lucian smiled and spoke.
"It's a large sum, so you might feel a bit uneasy. If you'd like, I can arrange an escort to wherever your next destination may be."
"No, it's fine. I prefer moving alone."
"Is that so? Then it can't be helped."
As Lucian stepped aside, Aiden shot out the door like an arrow.
Judging by his haste, he likely intended to buy a horse and leave immediately.
At the same time, chairs scraped as the mercenaries rose from their seats.
So they plan to chase him down, kill him, and take the money.
Mercenaries, honestly.
They'd been partners in his previous life, but no matter how many times he saw it, their behavior never failed to draw a bitter smile.
Clap, clap.
"Now then, I'm not finished speaking yet, so take your seats."
Before the mercenaries could move, Lucian clapped his hands to draw their attention.
Most of them hesitated at his words, but a few pretended not to hear and kept moving.
One group of mercenaries brazenly approached the entrance Lucian was blocking.
"Young Master, would you mind stepping aside for a moment? Nature's calling."
"We'll be right back—just a moment. If you like, we can even write you a note."
No matter where you went, there were always idiots who couldn't read the room.
Even after watching a man lose his life right in front of them, these fools clearly hadn't learned a thing.
Lucian let out a soft chuckle and slipped his hand into the pouch of platinum coins.
"Sven got a life price far more generous than he deserved. What do you think your lives are worth?"
"…!"
"Go back and sit down. Or do you want me to make another oath?"
Realizing the situation far too late, the mercenaries paled and staggered backward.
When no answer came, Lucian placed several platinum coins on the table and shouted,
"O Eight Gods of the Heavens!"
"We'll sit! We'll sit right now!"
"L-Look! We're sitting!"
"Please, just this once! We never meant to disrespect you, Young Master!"
The mercenaries who had reached the entrance recoiled in terror and hurried back to their seats.
Seeing that, the others froze as well.
They had realized that if they continued to ignore Lucian, they might become the next target of an oath.
As the mercenaries hesitantly returned to their seats, Lucian spoke.
"Recently, some rat bastards calling themselves the Imperial Liberation Front have been scurrying around this area. They're the ones you should've dealt with in the first place. But thanks to your half-assed shirking, they're now running wild like the world belongs to them."
"Let me make the reason I came here clear. I want you to carry out the contract. Starting tomorrow, work properly in return for what you've already taken from my brother. If you keep slacking off like this, I won't forgive it. Understood?"
At those words, discontent spread across the mercenaries' faces.
It was true that the mercenaries had overreached, trusting too much in their advantageous position.
But it was also the Valdeck family's fault for trying to lowball them at their usual rates even when mercenary prices were soaring.
No matter how much blame they bore, this was one point the mercenaries couldn't easily accept.
"Young Master, please hear us out. It's not that we're trying to be greedy, it's just—"
"I'll pay one platinum coin for every Imperial Liberation Front bastard you capture."
The mercenaries' eyes flew wide at Lucian's added offer.
It was far less than the amount used in the earlier oath, but as a bonus reward it was still enormous.
A single platinum coin, even split among an entire company, was equivalent to four or five decent jobs.
"And any mercenary company that captures five or more members of the Imperial Liberation Front will receive an additional platinum coin as a bonus. What do you say?"
Gulp.
The sound of dry throats swallowing echoed from all sides.
Five captured targets meant six platinum coins. Even after splitting the reward, it was enough to dream of retirement.
Faced with such tempting terms, everyone hesitated, glancing at one another.
"Agreed! On those terms, there's no reason not to accept!"
A mercenary company in the corner leapt to its feet and shouted.
The others flinched for a moment—but only briefly.
Once the dam broke, mercenaries began standing up all around the room.
"We'll take those terms as well!"
"Where do we go? Just tell us the deployment locations!"
"Everyone, grab your gear! It's time to work!"
Seeing the mercenaries' drastically changed attitude after they'd been sprawled about moments ago, Lucian let out a small chuckle.
He raised a hand to quiet them, then spoke again.
"It's already late today, so get a good night's rest! I'll inform you of your assigned positions tomorrow morning! But remember this—if you slack off again with excuses, I'll make you cough up every last bit of the advance you've already received!"
***
After finishing the negotiations, Lucian's group left the inn.
A few more warning remarks followed, but unlike before, not a single person voiced opposition.
"That wrapped up better than expected. This should be enough to satisfy our eldest brother—let's head back and report."
At Lucian's casual tone, Raymond swallowed dryly.
In truth, it was nothing like a minor achievement.
To think he'd completely overturned a deadlocked situation with a single oath…
To anyone who didn't know better, it might look like he'd paid a huge sum of money just to clean up a pile of trash.
But compared to the gains Lucian had secured, a few platinum coins were mere pocket change.
He flaunted the platinum to demonstrate overwhelming financial power, then erased distrust through the oath. He shattered their unity by making them kill one another, then instilled fear that they themselves could meet the same fate if they stepped out of line.
Easy enough to describe in words—but in practice, it was extraordinarily difficult to pull off.
Once an interest group grew too bloated, it inevitably began trusting only in its own strength and lost all sense of proportion.
Even trying to put them in their place often led to bloodshed, as their courage swelled in proportion to their power.
Yet Lucian had slapped them awake with nothing more than a few words.
In the end, once they lost their linchpin, the mercenaries were led around exactly as the Third Young Master intended throughout the negotiations. If that man Sven had stayed alive—or at the very least, if their unity hadn't been shattered—there definitely would've been those who rejected the terms and pushed back.
It wasn't just the process of dragging them to the negotiating table.
Even the conditions he laid out before them were flawless, without a single point to criticize.
The overall pay remained the same, but with almost excessive performance bonuses layered on top.
It looked like a finely balanced deal, but in reality, the terms were overwhelmingly favorable to the Valdeck side.
Those Imperial Liberation Front bastards are running wild everywhere because they believe the surveillance net is lax. The moment mercenaries blinded by performance bonuses start moving, those rats won't be able to act so recklessly.
As a secret organization, they were masters of covert movement.
If they truly went into hiding, even mercenaries would struggle to catch them.
Maybe the first one or two could be nabbed—but for the duration of the contract, the mercenaries would scarcely glimpse even their shadows.
On the other hand, the Imperial Liberation Front would be squeezed to death, their freedom of movement crippled as they tried to avoid the mercenaries.
It was the perfect strategy: minimizing expenditure while severely restricting the enemy's movements.
If there was just one thing lacking in this whole affair…
"Young Master, that was truly impressive handling. Still, wasn't the pouch of platinum coins you threw out at the start a bit excessive? What if, on the very first attempt, one of those mercenary bastards had actually killed him?"
Hugo's words, as if voicing everyone's unease, made Raymond nod unconsciously.
Things had passed without incident, but that point had undeniably been a risk factor in the plan.
If some mercenary had lost his head and killed Sven during the first oath, wouldn't the cost outweigh the benefit?
Confidence in one's plan is good. But excessive confidence at a young age can easily curdle into arrogance later on.
Depending on Lucian's answer, Raymond was prepared to offer some pointed advice.
But the Lucian who'd been questioned merely gave a faint smile and tossed the pouch of platinum coins.
"See for yourself."
"Gah!"
When the pouch—worth a staggering sum—came flying at him, Hugo yelped and caught it with both hands.
If even a single coin fell and was lost, it would be a disaster.
"Young Master, please don't do things that scare the life out of me! What if you'd dropped it!?"
"A few coins falling wouldn't matter. There aren't any platinum coins in that pouch."
"…What?"
"I transferred them earlier. This is the real pouch of platinum coins."
Jingle.
A small pouch slipped out from Lucian's coat.
It was compact—less than a quarter the size of the one he'd just thrown to Hugo.
"T-Then this pouch here is…?"
Still dazed, Hugo hurriedly opened the large pouch.
When he saw what was inside, his face twisted in disbelief and he shouted.
"It's all silver coins!?"
"Think about it. Do you really think my father would give me that many platinum coins? Even if he were supporting me, there'd still be limits."
"Then the pouch you threw earlier was…!"
"Silver coins, except for the few I layered on top. The color's almost identical—hide the engravings and that's all it takes. The only time I left nothing but real platinum coins was during the final oath."
At Lucian's utterly nonchalant explanation, Hugo—along with Raymond and even the Black Lions—was left speechless.
So the entire platinum pouch had been a bluff?
"W-Wait a moment, Third Young Master. Then what about the Oath of the Hall of Ten Thousand Gods? You clearly said you'd give platinum coins."
"When did I ever say that? When I swore the oath, I said I'd give the contents of the pouch. I never once said I'd give platinum coins."
Raymond and the Black Lions all turned to look at one another at once.
As if answering the unspoken question—Is that really true?—Vincent, whose memory was impeccable, nodded.
"He did indeed say that. He mentioned platinum coins when he first made the offer to the mercenaries, but during the Oath of the Hall of Ten Thousand Gods, he only said he would transfer everything contained in the pouch."
"Th-Then… you deliberately made the offer and the oath different?"
"Strictly speaking, even the initial offer wasn't a lie. You held out the pouch as you spoke, but you never said that everything inside it was platinum coins."
It was a bit of a stretch—but it wasn't nonsensical.
Contracts were riddled with deception by nature, and the mercenaries themselves had been pushing plenty of shameless arguments up to that point.
More importantly, even if the vague first offer could be questioned, there was nothing wrong with the oath itself.
He hadn't promised a specific item—only whatever was inside the pouch.
"But what if you'd been found out? Like I said earlier, if someone had killed him the moment you made the first offer—"
"I'd have wrapped it up and pocketed it immediately. If they had any sense at all, do you think they'd open the pouch wide while greedy partners were eyeing them like hawks? At most, they'd glance at the color and close it again."
"Even so, the cost would've been far higher. You still handed over a fair number of platinum coins before retracting the oath."
"And at the same time, the one who took the pouch would've had his life hunted from every direction. With a sum like that, everyone's eyes would go mad. Even if he later checked the contents and realized they were silver, no one would believe him."
Frankly speaking, it was doubtful whether even the man who walked away with a few platinum coins would make it safely back to his hometown.
They'd been cowed with performance bonuses and warnings, but there were always fools willing to take the easy, dangerous road.
In my previous life, I saw plenty of people chase and be chased for years over far less money. If they were lucky, they'd shake their pursuers and live out their days in peace—but if not, they'd spend their entire lives watching their backs…
And that was now, when the amount had been greatly reduced.
If someone had taken that huge pouch in full?
Surviving more than twelve hours after leaving the inn would've been nothing short of a miracle.
"And besides, if the rightful owner of a reward dies, there's no need to bother reclaiming it, is there? A knight beating down a few murderous robbers to earn some extra income isn't exactly unusual."
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