The lives of others are the seeds of their own rice.
One day, they lived with that in mind.
The only thing that matters is your life.
The lives of others are to connect their lives.
I don't kill useless people.
That does not come from a nothingness of fraternity.
I don't know what it means to pity someone else's life in the first place.
Unbeneficial killing means exactly what you say.
I would be happy to kill for the benefit.
It's good, I mean, it's gold.
There are two kinds of life in the world.
Life that would be gold if you took it, and life that would not be gold if you took it.
That would be the woman, but it would be the child, but it has nothing to do with it. If it's going to be gold, I'll kill it, and if it's not going to be gold, I'm not interested at all.
A mercenary would take it for granted.
The mercenary Ghizalte, who once took the alias "Silver Buddha” in the North, has that idea.
The bloody mercenary regiment led by Gizarte was devastated by a heavy blow in the battle six months ago.
It was originally a weak mercenary regiment that could not constitute a front on its own.
In the midst of not being strange whenever he was devastated by mistake on the side to which it attached, Gizarte came on the butt of a winning horse without mistake.
But that day, for the first time, Ghizalte made the wrong choice.
I had no idea that a corner of that Fire Dragon Mercenary Corps, one of the largest of a few northern mercenary regiments, would collapse.
For the Fire Dragon Mercenary Regiment, it may have been a defeat to the extent that it lost some of its strength, but the Blood Mercenary Regiment, which feathered the enemy's attack directly from the front, suffered irreversible damage.
Originally even more notorious among the poorly behaved mercenary regiments, Blood Mercenaries. Its survivors could not join other mercenary regiments because they were buying resentment in the people, putting their lives at risk and giving up living in the north.
An unexpected request jumped in to the Ghizaltes who thought they would be burglars in the Middle Plains as well.
Request from the nobility of Galai, the southern power, to harass rival nobles. It's an easy job that's not enough compared to a job on the northern battlefield, but the reward was broken.
Ghizalte took the survivors of a group of bloody mercenaries who had made themselves available to ordinary travellers all the way south into the Kingdom of Galais.
Leaving five separate teams in the Wang capital Galentor, Gizarte led the remaining seven into Miletos.
According to information from two of the watchmen, the intended "winter mansion" was a brittle security system to the extent that they could break in at any time and capture the neck of the lady they were looking for, if ordered to do so.
Still, at the employer's request, waiting for the opponent's vigilance to be lifted, Gizalte followed suit, even though he thought it was a tale of an incomprehensible amateur of the battle.
Even in the north, it was a routine tea meal to be accompanied by stupid orders, and how to protect ourselves while pretending to take it seriously was one of the skill sets of the mercenary commanders.
I was going to do what I was going to do while I appropriately put my other face on.
But things changed today.
After reports that two strange children had entered the mansion, the atmosphere of the mansion changed.
The lights of the lamps illuminated the garden brilliantly, and the men of the guard were beginning to work vigorously.
Seeing how it was from the groves the mansion could hope for, Gizarte immediately guessed.
"These guys are gonna have a cage fight."
Deran, the former ace of the Blood Mercenaries, the "Blood Axe”, who was next to Ghizalte, turns to the word.
"You think it's a cage fight?
"Oh."
North, reminds me of the fort attack.
With this number of people, the fort attack is just tough.
"It's been sudden since those kids got here. What are they talking about?"
"I don't know that. But I'm sure we're losing our chances."
Gizarte looked out and saw the "winter mansion" illuminating the light.
"It would have been easy until yesterday."
Delan abominably hit a nearby tree. Two swinging axes on his back make a dull metal sound on that clap.
"... it's tonight"
Ghizalte groans.
"It's too late for tomorrow. Tonight, we'll be just in time."
"The order over there was the day after tomorrow, wasn't it? Don't worry, do it yourself."
Answer Delane's words with a peppered spit.
"Wait till the day after tomorrow? The guards attacked me to sleep and tied me up."
The structure of this cage battle means that the opponent has taken into account this raid plan.
If you take it easy, the hands of the official constitution will reach out.
It is the great nobility with all that power that Gizarte and the others are dealing with.
"It would be best if they didn't get ready yet."
Fortunately, the number of people in the mansion has not been enhanced.
Only two kids have increased.
Most men who seem to be able to fight are just amateurs.
"Delane, gather them all. War."
Heh, and Delane laughs.
"You still say it like a mercenary captain."
The Blood Mercenaries are long gone, keep going. Gizarte laughs thinly when she sees such a delan.
"If you make money south, you can go back north and build a mercenary regiment."
To the words, Delan distorts his face and spits.
"Don't joke about it. I'm sorry, we're going back to hell."
After I say that, I add, as I recall.
"Well, I'm sure it's our demand in the south. It's rare."
"Oh. There's no demand either. And..."
Ghizarte nods and continues.
"If you work here long enough, you'll be asking soon."
This place is different from the north.
Here, that free and brutal north wind is not blowing. All I'm blowing is a raw, warm shabba wind.
"So we must never let this gold go. I need you to make sure they come out and pay for us every month or so. If you can't, I'll threaten to scatter the mastermind in this case."
"I'm out, Gizalte's specialty."
Delane laughs.
"You've already forgotten you can't stay north because you try to suck as much as you can from your employer."
"There's no more untrained, where I can shit like that"
Gizarte said wilfully and abusively.
No more northerly winds for us. Here, then, we have to survive.
"Get 'em in here, quick."
And it came to pass, in the words of Ghizalth, that Delane returned to his heels, saying, heedlessly.
Even as Delane's footsteps moved away, Gizarte remained in a rugged look and kept her eyes peeled away from the "Winter Mansion".