---

140. Engagement – Seven Merchants

“I’m sorry. I’ve thought about it a lot, but… that matter is a bit…”

The merchant, who had just entered middle age, bowed his head. His hands were in such a suppliant position that they nearly touched his groin, yet the nobleman before him, with his bulging belly, made no effort to hide his displeasure.

His proposal had been rejected.

“Are you really unable to understand what I’ve said? How disappointing.”

The merchant said nothing. The nobleman frowned at his stubbornness.

“It’s not dangerous at all. I’ve already spoken with Marquis Zhauer and Count Oscar. All you need to do is bring the goods for the exchange… How foolish. Fine, do as you wish.”

“I’m sorry. Is there nothing else I can do? I’ll be heading back to Barnau now, but if I could at least get a letter…”

“Enough. I thought your father would be able to help us, but pfft.”

The young nobleman waved his hand dismissively. Like swatting away flies, he brushed the merchant away, who stumbled backward.

And then he ran. After exiting the lord’s castle, he hurried to summon his companions.

In front of seven wagons, the six merchants who had set up a stall during their busy trading paused their work at the call of their leader.

An old merchant asked, “Did you get rejected? What did they say?”

“They didn’t seem pleased. I think it would be better if we ran away quickly.”

“Is it really that necessary to flee…? If we just pay some tax, won’t we be left alone?”

He wore an apron spotted with grease. It seemed he had been working, as he wiped the greasy hands on a towel while mumbling.

“Many have borrowed items on credit… Are we perhaps worrying too much?”

In trade, it was common to give goods on credit.

Most people did not have currency, so bartering was the norm, but many still demanded that they would ‘pick up’ the payment tomorrow or mention someone else’s name to pay in their stead.

“I wish it were that simple… I worry they might not let us go. We should have never accepted sponsorship to begin with, but now that we’ve reached this point, what are we supposed to do… I’m sorry for dragging you all into this. It’s all my fault.”

The seven merchants simultaneously sighed.

They weren’t originally merchants of considerable scale. They had been running small shops in the capital of the Austin Kingdom, Barnau, when an enticing proposal came along.

That very leader of the six merchants, Vernon, who was younger than the others, had formed this company upon returning from a trade expedition.

Initially, it was perplexing. They knew Vernon didn’t have the means to re-establish a company.

However, it turned out he had received sponsorship for seven wagons as a favor for Count Brina.

What that favor was, they did not know at the time. They were told they would find out when they arrived in Count Brina’s territory and, expecting to make a good amount of money, bought extra horses and hired coachmen for the expedition.

After all, forming a caravan seemed more profitable.

But it wasn’t just about money.

It was also about nostalgia for the good old days.

The oldest merchant brought attention back to the present.

“It’s not your fault. Yes, it could be a matter of urgency, so we should escape quickly. No matter how much profit there is, a life is more valuable.”

They sighed, but no one blamed Vernon for this. All six merchants regarded him as a son or nephew.

The seven merchants hurriedly began to dismantle their stall. They urged the coachmen to harness the horses to the wagons and abandoned all the goods they had lent out on credit as they fled Count Brina’s territory.

“This is not the way. Just go that way.”

“Huh? That way is the mountain road. We’ll have to take a long detour, and with the snow coming down, the wagons might get stuck in the middle.”

The elderly merchant lied to the coachman.

“I’m just curious if there might be a village we can sell our goods in that direction. Didn’t I say it would lead to Abrival Castle last time?”

“…Fine. But if our wagon gets stuck, it’s not our fault.”

He stated he wouldn’t take responsibility, but he did his duty. After discussing with the other coachmen, he replaced the weak horses on some wagons with strong ones on others.

– Thud.

The seven wagons, burdened with extra horses, struggled up the mountain path.

The coachman grumbled, “When will this damned snow stop?” but the merchants hoped it would snow even more. They desperately wished those deep wheel tracks would disappear…

Yet, ironically, pursuers caught up to them. Just when they had been relieved that no one had followed for over a week.

“…Thank you all for the assistance. I’ve thought of it as my luck in life to have met people like you.”

The merchants immediately resigned themselves to fate. Only two horses were pursuing them, but they exchanged confessions, words they had been too shy to share during their long companionship.

A squire and a knight, wearing the crest of Count Brina, quickly drew near. The merchants offered their apologies to the bewildered coachman.

“Sorry about this!”

As the two horses approached, the squire quickly leaped off his horse. Standing on each other’s shoulders, the knight leapt down, using the squire’s palm as a stepping platform.

“So, you’re trying to play tricks, huh? You won’t die easily.”

“Wh-what do you want from us? Do you have business with us?”

Vernon, with a desperate heart, attempted to wriggle free, but his voice trembled, and the six merchants behind him shrank as if they were criminals.

In numbers, the merchants had the advantage.

Including the coachmen and the two mercenaries they had hired, there were a total of sixteen of them.

Just one squire could be overwhelmed if a group of that many charged at him.

Whether it was overconfidence or sheer luck, they needed just one more thing, for everyone has a weak spot somewhere.

But the knight was different.

Experts. Individuals whose bodies were fully infused with mana.

Though there were differences between them, each could easily break a person’s neck, leaping from three-story buildings without a hitch.

Moreover, they possessed martial skills that ordinary civilians could never hope to match. Unless everyone present was a trained soldier, there was no way to deal with that one knight.

“Silence. How dare you utter falsehoods. The Young Lord has commanded that all of you be executed.”

As the knight pointed coldly, Vernon hurriedly responded.

“Why? We are all free citizens. We have proof of documents. If we have done something wrong, please allow us to have a trial. That’s the law.”

“Hah! You know one thing but not another. The law decrees that those who insult nobles be summarily executed. And that verdict is determined solely by the noble in question and the knight. I’ll add the crime of speaking out of turn to the knight as well.”

“W-what…?”

Despair filled Vernon’s eyes.

He realized that no explanation would suffice with this knight and dropped to his knees. In the snowy path marked with wheel tracks, he lay down and pleaded.

“We did not insult the Young Lord. Truly. If we did, just kill me. The others have never even met him.”

“How presumptuous. What gives you the right to decide who dies? I will—”

“Hey! Over there! Look! Leo, you were right! This must be the real shortcut!”

At that moment, from afar, a small cart was approaching. The horses pulling the carriage neighed, “Hee-haw!” In response, the two horses pulling the cart also greeted back with a joyous “Hee-haw!”

“Uncle! We succeeded! You know the monster we saw together? We caught it! Look at this!”

Ran Abiker popped up from the cart, waving her hands, but Vernon pretended not to notice.

“…Is that your group?”

“No, we don’t know them.”

“That’s truly touching.”

The knight’s mouth twisted as he smirked, eyes fixed on the scene.

“Vernon! Grandpa Ron! Why won’t you answer? What are you doing over there?”

“Sis. Just be quiet for a moment.”

Soon, the cart arrived.

As Ran and Anne got down from the cart to greet the merchants, the trembling coachman suddenly shouted.

“Please, spare me! I know nothing!”

It wasn’t directed at the sisters; the coachman prostrated himself toward the knight. In turn, other coachmen and the two hired mercenaries echoed their cries.

“We’re mercenaries. You may or may not know, but we belong to the ‘Dexter Mercenary Group’ in Barnau. We only signed a contract to escort the merchants. Please spare us.”

“What’s going on? What’s all this about?”

Rena, sitting in the cart, asked.

Leo, driving the cart, shrugged, as if to say he had no clue, while loosening the reins on the horse.

The knight from Count Brina nodded, seeming satisfied. Motioning the coachman and mercenaries aside, they let out a sigh of relief as they stepped away…

“You’ll be subjected to separate interrogations, so just stay still.”

Upon hearing the knight’s words, their faces paled.

This world’s interrogations were hardly civilized affairs.

“…What’s happening? Why is there a knight here?”

Ran’s expression hardened. Unable to approach the prostrate Vernon, she directed her question at the elderly merchant named Ron.

He opened his mouth but did not answer her question.

“Sir Knight, these children know nothing. We just separated from each other at Abrival Castle and have only now met again. Please, I beg for leniency. If you wish, I’ll offer my own life. Please do not blame the others…”

“Enough. This is no longer amusing.”

The knight interrupted the old man, who was older than his father.

“Do you think your lives have any value? Berun, strike.”

“Yes!”

“Ah! What the hell are you doing? What did these uncles do wrong to deserve this?!”

The squire known as Berun drew his sword. As he aimed to strike Vernon’s back, Ran spread her arms in a bid to block.

As Berun glanced back with a ‘What should I do?’ expression, the knight gestured with his chin.

“Sis!”

– Clang!

Anne barely deflected the sword aimed at Ran’s neck. However, the squire quickly recovered the raised sword and brought it down.

“Anne!”

Ran pushed her younger sister away.

With her axe gripped tightly, Anne stumbled, and the misplaced sword cleaved through the air.

Berun cast a glance at the knight, gauging his mood. The knight wore an expression of disdain, and with gritted teeth, Berun swung his sword again.

A brief exchange of slashes ensued.

Though Ran and Anne proved competent, even a squire would struggle to claim their lives easily, and Rena rushed in to intervene. She shouted while deflecting Berun’s sword.

“Stop it! Even if you think they’ve done something wrong, this is excessive!”

“…Berun, step back.”

The knight recognized Rena’s skill with a sword. Though Berun was no match for her, it wasn’t worth prolonging the fight, so he resolved to handle it himself.

What the heck kind of situation is this — thought Leo Dexter as he watched on from the sidelines.

Honestly, there was no reason or justification to intervene. He only had a slight acquaintance with Ran and Anne.

‘Is this one of those {events}? But why? What good does it do to clash with a noble’s knight…?’

What conclusion had Minseo drawn about this situation? He wondered but shook his head to dismiss the thought.

What the hell is this game trying to pull, it was easy to predict.

It was probably trying to lure us into a trap again.

‘That won’t do.’

Resolute, Leo stepped forward.

The snow, slightly melted under the sunlight, clung to his feet, but with his determined stride, it fell away in an instant.