Sandstorm.
It is the name of the mercenary group that has shared the history of Baern, one of the oldest witnesses to the country’s birth, and has always been counted as one of the best since the concept of the ‘Big Ten’ was formed.
Such was its power that even Baern’s children, who might not know the name of the dynasty, would recognize the Sandstorm mercenary group.
Usher was one of those children.
He believed more in the name “Sandstorm,” which symbolized the eternal immortality of Baern, rather than the changing names of the dynasties throughout history.
Usher’s eternal idol was the Therbion Mercenary Group, but aside from that, he had always respected Sandstorm.
A grand tree that does not wither with time, a name and scale built over the years, it was indeed a magnificent thing.
As a matter of fact, Usher’s dream was just like that.
He dreamed of becoming a mercenary in the Therbion Mercenary Group one day, rising to become the leader, and growing it into a scale like Sandstorm.
When he spoke of this dream, the members would laugh heartily, pat his head, and the leader would cheer him on by patting his shoulder.
Thus, he thought it was always something great and magnificent.
It was when Usher turned eight that he realized that Sandstorm was not as romantic a group as he had imagined.
That day, the members had rented a store and were holding a drinking party.
Since it was within the village, Usher was also there, and after taking a sip of Kyle’s beer, he jumped up, gagging.
At that moment, Sandstorm, including the first-class officer Kaol, appeared in the store.
“These damn kids are acting up.”
Perhaps he was angry because the store was already reserved.
Or maybe it was simply because he didn’t like how the status of Therbion was rising day by day.
Before leaving, Kaol kicked the table and caused a ruckus, showing insulting words to the members.
Usher was furious and jumped around.
The leader remained calm. In fact, he seemed indifferent.
“Usher, there is no one more disgusting than those who hide behind the shine. They are just pitiful beings who cannot live without that.”
“Kaol will probably live his life as Kaol of Sandstorm, and will think it an honor to have his name written in their history books.”
Long history was not only about romance.
The leader’s words showed the reason why an empire lasting a thousand years could never exist.
It was only after growing older that Usher realized Sandstorm was corrupted.
It was a group where, instead of heroes fitting the history, hyenas taking advantage of past glories for greed dominated.
They were more like politicians moving for profit, not mercenaries with pride in their work.
That was probably why, after that day, Sandstorm began to interfere with every matter related to Therbion.
It was also why Therbion tolerated their violence because they were called the Lion’s Den.
Among them, Kaol, the man right in front of him, was one of the people Usher resented the most.
“Ugh, your face is quite useful.”
With a rough gait, Kaol and his followers from Sandstorm followed him.
His light brown hair, his sly appearance, a thin body, and an average height all came together to show an unremarkable figure.
The flashy attire that didn’t match his appearance clearly depicted who he was.
Usher furrowed his brows.
- “Die! Just die, you damn filthy bastard!!!”
On the day the Quolin dynasty fell, Kaol was the enemy who had stabbed the heart of Hwaran, who was helping Usher escape, dozens of times.
A foul stench filled the air.
Perhaps it was just personal feelings that caused such impressions.
“What’s going on? This is our mercenary group’s land.”
“What’s the matter? I just came to greet my opponent for the next match.”
His nauseating tone made Usher feel sick.
Usher hid his emotions, following Hwaran’s teachings.
“Usher, an assassin never reveals anything until the knife is in.”
His eyes became colder, but it was disguised as caution against a rival.
“I didn’t know you were such a friendly person.”
“Is that so?”
“You handle your opponents quite roughly.”
“Did you watch my match?”
I could tell without even looking. He must have intentionally humiliated his opponent even more terribly.
“I watched your match too. Your skills are quite impressive, so I was curious. Why are you in a newly formed mercenary group? With your skills, you should be at the top of our ‘Lion’ group.”
Ah, how transparent a person’s intentions can be.
“Because of your brother? Then, how about the two of you join us? I tend to treat skilled individuals quite well.”
It’s too obvious.
This was the tactic of someone who, instead of being a true warrior, wanted to expand their influence, intoxicated by the power struggle of the Lion’s Den.
Such a person had no place here.
The name “Lion’s Den” should not be used for the petty struggles of such individuals.
“…I appreciate your offer, but I must decline. Trust is like life itself to a mercenary.”
“Keeping loyalty? What a dull woman.”
I’m neither a woman nor dull.
But I didn’t want to offer any explanation.
Usher turned away. There was no point in continuing the conversation, as it would only lead to an emotional response.
“The current Lion’s Den is allied with the royal family. There’s a possibility that witches are involved.”
There was no need to give them more of an opportunity.
“I’ll see you at the arena.”
As I left, I felt the mocking laughter and the eyes scanning my body.
Usher gritted his teeth and endured it.
When Usher returned, he shared what had happened with his group.
The general reaction was unpleasant, and Gester’s response was particularly intense.
“Kaol is a cowardly politician. He’s trying to act like a visionary, but he’ll definitely resort to tricks in the match. We should consider the possibility of him bribing the referee or using poison.”
“Is he really that despicable?”
“Yes. For him, it’s not about the duel or honor, only winning. He probably came to check out our faces under the pretense of seeing us, but it’s closer to him trying to assess his opponent. It’s good that you didn’t show any emotions. Well done, Miss.”
Halia was disgusted.
Coming from a background of being a paladin, where straightforward methods were considered justice, she couldn’t accept someone like Kaol.
When Halia vented her frustration, Diego calmed her down.
Usher spoke.
“I’ve already thought of how to deal with him. You don’t need to worry too much. What concerns me is…”
“That he’ll try to sabotage you. After losing the match, he might harbor resentment and resort to tricks.”
Usher nodded.
“Our goal is to infiltrate the royal palace and track down the witch.”
If they are being watched, the task will become more difficult.
The concern deepened.
“You can win.”
Bersia spoke.
“Why worry? You’re just a mercenary.”
It was a somewhat out-of-place remark.
However, Usher was able to read the hidden meaning in her following words.
“If anything happens, I will take responsibility. Don’t worry.”
It was something she could say because she knew the full context.
She knew that Sandstorm was the enemy, and she knew how Kaol was involved with Usher.
Though she hadn’t heard the details, she understood the emotions behind it.
Her words were comforting.
When Bersia said that, Halia squinted her eyes for a moment before loudly shouting.
“Ha! Fine then! Just go ahead and beat them up. After all, you’re worried about what will happen after infiltrating the royal palace, right? If that’s the case, I’ll step in and smash everything!”
Halia was indeed someone who could do just that.
If she put her full strength into it, destroying the entire city wouldn’t be difficult at all.
Usher’s lips parted in a daze.
At that point, Gester spoke up as well.
“Hmm, I see. Making them feel what it’s like to lose might hurt their pride.”
Though he hadn’t said it to get comfort, he ended up offering encouragement.
Usher gave a sheepish smile.
For that moment, he decided to push the worry aside in his mind.
“…Well, I’ll take my leave then.”
“Leave? What’s there to leave for! If things go south, just ask the gods for help. If you ask, I’m sure they’ll listen.”
Usher nodded.
God’s punishment, huh. He had forgotten about that.
Bersia was someone who had the gods’ favor.
If things came to that, the gods might provide a solution.
The mood lightened.
Laughing, the day ended, and the thought came to mind.
The semifinals, the confrontation with the enemy, was just around the corner.
In the waiting room of the arena, Kaol, a first-class officer of Sandstorm, nervously shook his legs and shouted.
“Hey! Are we almost there?!”
At his cry, the attendants scrambled to respond.
After a while, one of the attendants arrived carrying a long box.
“It’s done.”
“Finally. Damn it.”
Kaol opened the box.
Inside was a sword with a violet-colored blade.
The moment he gripped the sword, Kaol felt dizzy.
A sense of exhilaration welled up inside him.
“Do I really have to bring this out because of those damn bastards?”
He muttered but his mouth was smiling.
“Did the contract go through?”
“Yes, the blood of ten warriors is here.”
“Heh, it’s a bit excessive for dealing with a woman and her child.”
But there was no harm in being cautious.
Kaol examined the sword’s blade.
His face reflected on the eerie violet-colored blade.
‘Really, it’s so strange.’
Though they maintained cooperation, it was unbelievable that such a grotesque thing even existed in the world.
“Witches…”
What a truly strange breed they were.