「Half a month later.」
The downpours of the Crying Moon had ceased. The floodwaters receded, and the marsh welcomed a long-awaited sun.
In the morning mist, Barrett stood before Velin's tent.
He had shaved his beard clean, revealing a chiseled face. The scar that ran through his left eye was more conspicuous than ever.
He wore a suit of riveted leather armor, polished to a gleam. Even the simple gray wolf's head crest on his pauldron had been repainted.
Behind him, the members of the "Gray Wolf" Mercenary group were lined up in two straight, solemn rows.
Velin lifted the tent flap, saw the scene before him, and paused.
"Your Excellency."
Barrett took a step forward, stopping three paces from Velin.
The plates of his armor clanked together.
He and all the Mercenaries behind him knelt on one knee in perfect unison.
They clenched their right fists and struck their left chests, producing a deep, muffled THUD.
Velin's pupils contracted slightly.
'What's all this?'
"We, the 'Gray Wolves'," Barrett said with great solemnity, "request to pledge our allegiance to you. From this day forward, our swords and our lives belong to you, Lord Klein."
"From now on, we will be driven not by contracts, but by loyalty."
'So... does this mean I don't have to pay the rest of their fee?' Velin couldn't help but wonder.
He cleared his throat. "I was under the impression you all preferred your freedom."
"Freedom..." Barrett gave a bitter smile. "For us 'bloodless' folk, freedom is just the right to choose which mud pit to wallow in, and which lord to sell our lives to."
Velin was a little curious. He looked down at Barrett. "Then what is it that you want?"
"A future." Barrett raised his sharp, single eye to meet Velin's, his tone fervent. "My last commander, a useless fool of noble blood, ordered our entire hundred-man company to charge just to snatch a Magic Beast Egg. Only a few of us survived... We've followed too many idiots."
"But you're different, My Lord." He pointed to the black city wall behind him, then to the vine dwellings sprouting up in the distance.
"You've used knowledge beyond our understanding to create a miracle in this godforsaken place. This wall, these growing houses... they are more solid than any Duke's promise. We are willing to use our worthless lives and the skills we possess to clear any obstacles for you. Not for anything else, but for ourselves, and for our descendants... for a different way of life."
Velin's gaze swept across the ten silent, resolute faces.
"I accept your allegiance." Velin's voice reached every person's ears. "From this day on, you are no longer the 'Gray Wolves'. You are the first garrison of Newly Town. Barrett, you are the captain."
"Yes, My Lord!" Barrett slammed his chest, his roar like thunder.
Velin turned and looked out at the town, which was just beginning to take shape.
'I guess I've gotten out of paying them... but I'll still have to pay their salaries from now on.'
Thinking of his own empty coin purse, it seemed he would have to pay the Golden Sail Commerce Association another visit.
...
The rainy season had come to a complete end.
Cohen, the steward of the Golden Sail Commerce Association, once again set off on a journey to the Gray Sea Marsh.
This time, he brought only a few guards and a guide, his relaxed posture suggesting he was on a countryside jaunt.
The Scout he had sent out earlier reported that the young Knight's camp was apparently still there, but the Scout had been too timid to get close.
This was within his expectations. While the Magical Beast tide of the Crying Moon was terrifying, there were always a few lucky ones who managed to eke out a miserable existence hiding in some corner.
Now, it was time to go and reap the fruits of this "luck."
They first passed the ruins of Gray Mist Village.
The former village had been reduced to ruins. Decaying wooden posts bobbed in the muddy water, and a few corpses, chewed beyond recognition, lay scattered amongst the wreckage, emitting a foul stench.
"See that?" Cohen pointed his riding crop at the desolate scene, lecturing the attendant beside him. "This is what happens when you defy the natural order. Without the protection of a powerful bloodline, any attempt at pioneering is a joke. That little brat Klein is probably crying his eyes out, clutching some knightly novel right now."
The attendant nodded repeatedly in agreement. "You are truly farsighted, Lord Steward. This time, we'll be able to buy that plot of land and his Knight's title for the lowest possible price."
"Buy?" Cohen scoffed. "Can you really call acquiring a Knight's title 'buying'? I call it 'assistance'. The title of a Pioneer Knight is a favorite collector's item among the nobles of the Royal Capital."
The group continued on for half a day. The scenery of the marsh was monotonous and dull, until the attendant pointed to the distant horizon and exclaimed in surprise, "Lord Steward, what is that? A black mountain range?"
Cohen squinted. It was indeed a black line stretching across the plateau, even reflecting a strange luster under the sunlight.
As they drew closer, the relaxed and complacent look on his face gradually froze.
That was no mountain range.
That was a wall. A completely black, serrated city wall, coiled atop the plateau like a slumbering behemoth.
He urged his horse to the corner of the wall, dismounted, and reached out to touch the cold, hard surface. It felt like steel, yet it also had the strange texture of... leaves?
Once inside the walls, he was met with a sight that made his brain short-circuit.
In the center of the camp... no, the *town*, Barrett was training a troop of high-spirited militia, while children chased each other playfully down the streets.
Everyone here had an expression rarely seen on the faces of commoners—hope.
His eyes widened as he stared at the window of a three-story residence.
The window was a natural, semi-oval opening, its edges smooth and elegant, perfectly integrated with the wall. There were no seams to be found on the entire surface... or were those aesthetically pleasing patterns the seams?
'What kind of craftsmanship is this?'
'Is it the latest technique of the Dwarf stonemasons? Or did some Mage use an earth-to-stone spell?'
'These houses... these streets... they're on par with the Upper City District of Stone Bridge City! And that's the provincial capital that Marquis Minas Hill has been developing for decades!'
"Lord Steward..." The attendant's voice was trembling. "Is... is this a miracle?"
Cohen did not answer.
He straightened his disheveled collar, suppressed the shock in his heart, and put on a humble smile the likes of which he had never worn before. Then he walked toward a guard by the roadside.
"If you would be so kind as to announce me. Steward Cohen of the Golden Sail Commerce Association has come to pay his respects to the esteemed Lord Velin Klein. I also wish to offer my sincerest reverence for his great new city."
When Velin saw Cohen, the latter was standing stiffly in front of a vine dwelling, looking like a chastised schoolboy.
"Lord Klein!" Cohen practically jogged over, his smile extravagantly enthusiastic. "I was just... completely captivated by your creation! This is simply a miracle! Might this great town have a name?"
Velin looked out at the vibrant land before him, at the people who had emerged from despair.
"It's called Newly Town."
"Newly Town... A fine name!" Cohen fawned, just as he was about to say more.
Velin cut him off.
"Steward Cohen, are you interested in talking business?"