We clearly have weaknesses and limitations with just the two of us, so it’s time to recruit a new party member to cover them!
That was the justification and policy I put forward to convince Friede, who questioned why we would set foot in such an unsettling place.
Of course, that alone wouldn’t explain why we ‘had’ to go all the way to Pesengwigel, so I added more detail.
“So, tell me… what do you think is our party’s biggest problem right now?”
“That over there.”
Friede pointed sideways at Eleadra and answered immediately.
“……”
“…Isn’t it?”
Well… to be honest, it wasn’t entirely wrong, but it was completely off from what I intended…
“…The fact that we can’t use Nibelung in front of others. If they find out our identities, things could get messy.”
Being a holy sword, Nibelung was renowned for far surpassing my armor’s capabilities, but it was too noticeable, making it tricky to use.
The appearance of Nibelung was so famous that not just humans, but even other races were aware of it.
The great sword shimmering with the goddess’s power and golden light.
As soon as Friede drew Nibelung from its subspace, everyone who witnessed it would instantly realize she was the hero of the Kingdom of Rhine.
Of course, they would think she was the new hero of the next generation, not me, given the huge difference in gender and skill from the ‘incompetent hero’ Friet.
If they stopped their thoughts there, I would consider myself lucky. But once the thought of ‘hero of Rhine’ popped up, people would naturally turn their attention to me.
The ‘traitorous knight,’ Brunhilde, was said to have been hunted down by the army of the Kingdom of Rhine, so I wouldn’t be immediately exposed… but that didn’t mean I could just relax.
I only dyed my hair black, not my whole face, so anyone who remembered Brunhilde’s face would figure out who I was the moment they saw my true face.
Maybe they wouldn’t even need to see my face.
Anyone who witnessed Brunhilde in battle would likely spot many similarities when they observed me fight.
Anyway, that’s why Friede couldn’t carelessly pull out the holy sword. Not just in front of the public, but also when we were exploring dungeons with the party members.
Who knows who might recognize me—no, anyone would inevitably recognize me.
Because of that, struggling without the holy sword in situations that could’ve been easily resolved by simply pulling it out caused quite the headache.
The fact that our former party member, Arine, ended up dead was due, arguably, to struggling without the holy sword against the Crystal Knight, which allowed the doppleganger to find an opening to betray us.
The policy of fighting without the holy sword has already shown its limits.
Even the enemies we will face will only grow stronger, so should I just keep repeating the same mistakes?
“So, we need to recruit trustworthy party members. Ones who won’t stab us in the back, even if they see the holy sword.”
“Are you planning to recruit a slave as a party member?”
“Exactly. If I brand them with a slave mark to prevent betrayal, we could be at ease even if our identities are exposed.”
The slaves auctioned in Pesengwigel—especially battle slaves—get branded with a tattoo-like slave mark just before they are handed over to the highest bidder.
It establishes a magical contract between the slave and the owner, meaning breaking it could lead to severe consequences, even death.
Branding a person with such a mark is a serious crime punishable by death, but it’s allowed for legitimate slaves, as they are considered property.
The details of the contracts vary according to the buyer’s requests, but since buyers tend to be similar, the main contents are pretty much the same.
“Will not flee. Will not harm their owner. Will absolutely obey their owner’s orders.” I guess that’s it.
“An absolute obedience mark? Isn’t that a form of brainwashing curse…?”
“Not quite. The mark only controls the body and doesn’t manipulate the mind. So it’s more like… puppetry? Yeah, much closer to puppetry.”
Of course, even if it’s called absolute obedience, it only moves the body in that way; complete mental subjugation isn’t possible.
If perfect mind control could be achieved with mere slave marking, then the core authority of Tirving wouldn’t even be called a holy sword to begin with.
In other words, the slaves with absolute obedience marks would superficially follow their owner’s commands while inwardly brewing resentment and grudges.
In fact, most cases of slaves killing their owners happen because the owner forgot to renew the obedience mark or the mark itself shattered.
It is often said that such accidents frequently occur with the absolute obedience mark. The stronger the binding force, the more unstable the mark, I guess.
If we really want to take a slave as a party member, this is a mark to avoid as much as possible. The moment the mark breaks, they’d instantly turn into enemies.
‘…Well, I can’t even get a submission mark anyway.’
The absolute obedience mark is a service reserved for nobles with guaranteed status. If we ask, they wouldn’t even pretend to listen.
“We can just inscribe a harm prevention mark and include exposing our identities in that ‘harm’. That should be enough to prevent betrayal, right?”
“Hmm…”
With a puzzled head tilt, Friede contemplated.
“…Ugh, umm… Is this really okay…?”
Her mumbled words were barely audible. I recognized that it was a rational choice, but her face said she thought it was completely morally wrong.
Well, I understood her feelings.
She is, after all, the kindest hero among the four of us, so she couldn’t help but feel resistance towards the idea of buying and using a slave.
“Or, how about this… I’m the only one regarded as a fugitive, right? So you can head back to Rhine to form a new party, while I operate separately from here—”
“Let’s go to Pesengwigel.”
That was a lightning-fast response.
◆◆
Pesengwigel was a large city built on the western edge of the Kingdom of Hervor, bordering the Beastfolk’s realm of the Great Forest of Wildgard.
Originally established as a military fortress, it started functioning more like a trading city after making a peace agreement with Wildgard, I believe?
A hundred years have passed since then. Time was more than enough for the city’s identity to warp.
Today, the only remnants of the military fortress left in Pesengwigel were the towering oval stone walls, and the nickname “trading city” now also included the word “slave.”
The largest slave trading market in the kingdom.
A city of freedom filled with luxury, entertainment, sin, and violence.
That was Pesengwigel today.
“A city of freedom?”
“Yep, there are no lords in Pesengwigel. No noble has lasted longer than three years as a lord here. They all ended up dead.”
The reasons for their deaths were quite diverse.
Some suddenly fell ill and died. Others ‘committed suicide’ by jumping off balconies. Some met their demise during inspections of their domains due to attacks by riffraff.
There were cases of falling off horses or being attacked by monsters, and even ones where lords were killed by their children for infidelity with their wives.
“Being granted a territory has become a form of execution. The perception that it’s a poisoned goblet has rooted itself completely. Hence, it eventually became a lordless domain.”
“And you’re just letting that happen? It’s clearly assassination.”
If it happens too many times, it becomes fate.
Even though everyone could clearly see the foul play behind their deaths, the culprits were never captured or executed.
Why, you ask?
Well, it’s obvious. It’s all about the money.
“We knowingly turn a blind eye to it because it brings in money.”
The bribes Pesengwigel hands out to the kingdom’s powerful nobles and the royal family are so enormous that they hush up any allegations of noble assassinations without a second thought.
It’s rare to find an idiot willing to cut open the belly of a goose that lays golden eggs.
The royal family and high-ranking nobles openly shield Pesengwigel as a stable source of slave supply and regular income, while they conveniently ignore all its problems.
As a result, it turned into a lawless city dominated by various criminal organizations instead of public authority.
‘A city carved up by gangsters, huh.’
But even though it’s a lawless city, it’s not a living hell where criminals stab each other to death in the middle of the main street every day.
If that were the case, the city would’ve been doomed already. An auction of slaves wouldn’t even happen if buyers didn’t come looking for them.
It’s just that instead of lords and their knights, criminal organizations are dividing and managing the territories, but even there, a certain order exists.
It’s not order for the people’s livelihood, but more like order aimed at attracting tourists to pick their pockets, but still….
‘If you just avoid the back alleys and slums, it should be relatively safe.’
Getting totally drunk and wandering around or using cheap inns without any caution might end up with you becoming a baby mama ten months later, but still.
◆◆
After obtaining Friede’s agreement, we rented a carriage and headed west.
On the way, I tested the performance of the spear, Cabellach, against bandits we encountered, while simultaneously training Eleadra to refrain from sucking on human blood without permission.
“…It smells.”
Honestly, there wasn’t much need for training.
Just as those who had tasted the finest wine wouldn’t touch cheap, sour wine, Eleadra, who had already tasted my blood, couldn’t bring herself to drink the bandit’s blood at all.
There’s a culinary hierarchy, you see.
Compared to the crisp and refreshing blood of a Valkyrie, the blood of a mere bandit was just rotten waste.
The fact that I had pricked my finger and offered it for a taste back during our first meeting had inadvertently turned her into a picky eater.
