stonecrandall Chapter 71 Mercenary Love Life
Chapter 71 Mercenary Love Life
The soft glow of the oil lamp illuminated the table. Johanna Sven sat upright to one side, with Vito's "Chronicle of the White Army," written in wild handwriting and filled with exaggerated rhetoric and absurd plots, spread open before her.
Jules sat in the high-backed chair opposite her, his posture still upright like a pine tree, but if you looked closely, you would notice that his fingers, which were crossed on his knees, were unconsciously rubbing the edge of his leather wristband.
Moreover… today, Jules wasn't wearing the leather armor or linen shirts commonly seen on mercenaries; instead, he was dressed in a full silk robe. This made him look more like a governor, a member of high society, rather than a mercenary leader or a shabby knight.
Johanna's voice, gentle and clear like a mountain stream, broke the silence: "Lord Jules, Captain Vito wrote here: In the second order from the beginning of the legion's formation, near Tyrosi, the newly formed White Legion was betrayed and ambushed by the 'Broken Spear Legion.' The situation was extremely critical. You alone covered the rear, holding a stone bridge and blocking the pursuit of dozens of times the enemy, buying time for the legion's retreat." She raised her blue eyes, looking at him with sincere inquiry.
"He said you were 'like a boulder in a storm, unshakeable. Your twin swords were like flowing white ribbons, taking a life in the blink of an eye.' Could you... tell me more details about that time? For example, what did the bridge look like? What were you thinking at the time? It must have been very difficult?"
Jules' Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. He coughed lightly, interrupting her question, his voice still his usual hoarse and deep, but if you listened closely, you could detect a hint of forced composure, almost overly deliberate: "The bridge... was very narrow." He began to describe it succinctly, his gaze fixed on a point in the air, as if recalling something, "It was an abandoned aqueduct arch bridge, made of stone, with... a dried-up riverbed below, covered in pebbles. Actually, most of the men who chased after me were just ragtag soldiers; I threw them off the bridge, after all, I was wearing heavy armor at the time."
He completely ignored (or rather, didn't know how to say) Johanna's questions about her state of mind and feelings, and went straight back to the cold, objective facts: "The number of 'Broken Spear Regiment' members... wasn't dozens of times greater," he corrected, his tone as flat as if he were talking about the weather. "They were chasing us too fast. The first group to reach the bridge was actually only about... five or six times more than us. Besides, the pursuers were too complacent. They thought we had just been betrayed, our morale was low, and they could quickly wipe us out."
"Most importantly, as I said before, they are a bunch of grunts. In any mercenary group, they are just there to fill in the gaps and serve as cannon fodder. If they block us, they will die. Our pressure is not as... thrilling as Vito said."
"So back then..." Johanna wanted to ask him how he fought against overwhelming odds, how he chose his position, and how he dealt with the successive attacks—details that demonstrated his personal bravery and decisiveness.
"Nothing special." Jules said somewhat stiffly, as if he were conducting a serious tactical review.
"I—including Harwin, Calvin, and Vito, four of us in total. Each of us was wearing armor and was in good physical condition. Besides, our location was perfect: the bridge was narrow, so they couldn't charge at once. Calvin and I held them off, while Harwin and Vito dealt with them with crossbow bolts." He seemed to feel his words were too short, or perhaps he couldn't bear Johanna's admiring and inquisitive gaze, so he pointed to another part of the parchment, trying to change the subject: "And here, Vito made a mistake."
Johanna looked in the direction he pointed.
Jules continued, his tone tinged with a hint of helplessness at his old brother's exaggerated claims: "The goods we captured after defeating them... weren't the 'extremely precious lapis lazuli dye' that Vito made up, and he even said that several barrels were spilled, and half the team's faces turned blue for days, causing the Tyrossi to chase after us laughing..." He paused, seemingly organizing his thoughts to avoid using any emotionally charged words.
"Actually... what we received were several bundles of oriental silk. The quality... is quite good. If you'd like, I can send you a few bundles tomorrow as fabric..."
As he spoke, he himself began to lose his composure.
What does his seizure of the silk have to do with giving the silk to Johanna?
As Johanna listened to his dry narration and Jules's somewhat embarrassed bronze face, and then looked at the vivid, even a little comical, "blue-faced mercenary" scene in Vito's writing, she couldn't help but lightly cover her lips with her fingertips, a knowing smile appearing in her eyes.
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Vito's room, cluttered with junk and filled with the smell of alcohol and old parchment.
He was frowning as he revised a rhyme in his new collection of poems by the light of an oil lamp, muttering to himself.
"Damn it, why don't 'autumn leaves' and 'casual' rhyme?"
"Hmm, how about changing it like this? Autumn leaves might find a beautiful home, but autumn leaves are never as free as the autumn wind... free for what?"
Before Vito could finish "considering" it, his door was pushed open with a "bang".
"The betting begins!" Old Tom exclaimed excitedly, kicking the door open and entering Vito's room. "The betting!" Old Tom pulled Vito up from the table.
"Opening for trading! Vito, forget your cheesy love poems! Now for the part the brothers love most... that's it!"
"Our boss! When is he going to marry that Johanna girl?!" Calvin let out a snicker, deliberately drawing out his words. The others who came in—Harwin, Leon…—all laughed slyly.
Vito was dizzy from being shaken by old Tom, but as soon as he heard the topic, his usual playful eyes lit up, and the annoyance of being interrupted from his creative work vanished instantly. He abruptly broke free from old Tom, straightened his rumpled collar, cleared his throat, and put on the expression of a professional gossipmonger.
"Quiet! Quiet! All of you, shut the hell up!" Vito waved his arms, trying to quell the noise.
He chuckled. "The boss hasn't been focused on training lately! So—"
"Want to place a bet? Okay! Let me explain the situation first!"
"First of all, the boss now glances at Miss Johanna's room every day! And he glances at it every time he walks down the hallway!"
"The market is now open!"
Completed within three months! (A whirlwind wedding!)
Odds: 1 to 5!
As Vito wrote, Halwin muttered beside him, "Damn it, the boss's temper is tougher than the hardest steel. Three months? Unless the Seven Gods descend to earth... or the Lord of Light personally blesses the boss's head!"
Within six months! (Steady progress!)
Odds: 3 to 1!
"That's possible, it just depends on how well that young lady handles it. Our boss seems to be quite taken with her tricks..." Calvin muttered, stroking his beard. "The boss just loves that aristocratic lady thing!"
Within a year! (Slow and steady wins the race!)
Odds: 1 to 2!
"I think this is the most reliable one; the boss will be arguing about it for ages..." Old Tom exclaimed. "You all know the boss seems cold and unapproachable, but he can be quite indecisive at times!"
More than a year! (A protracted war!)
Odds: 1 to 1.5!
"Sigh, maybe the boss's just watching and won't actually do anything?" Leon, the henchman, shook his head. "You know, that blockhead of a boss, his head's full of that old-fashioned chivalrous stuff..."
It's completely unworkable! (A complete waste of time!) Odds: 1 to 10!
As Vito wrote down this option, he glanced cautiously at the doorway, fearing that Jules might suddenly appear.
"Shh... Keep your voices down! If Boss Jules finds out we bet against him and lost, we'll all be cleaning the stables for a month!"
"Come on, come on! Place your bets now!" Vito banged on his clapper and shouted, "Put out your copper coins, silver coins, gold dragons! Use your intuition and your purses to gamble on our leader's... no, on his happy future!"
As he kept the accounts, he shouted at the noisy crowd, "Keep the hell down! Don't let the main character hear you! Especially you, Calvin, with that awful voice of yours! ... And who's going to stand guard at the door? If you see the commander or that little fox Tiberius coming by, cough twice!"
Amidst the sounds of betting, someone whispered a sarcastic remark: "Vito, you're keeping such good notes, have you been secretly observing for a long time?"
Vito didn't even look up, giving a smug snort: "Nonsense! I even remember which day they spent more than a candle's time together in the study, and which day the commander 'coincidentally' passed by Miss Johanna's window! Is that what you call professional... Tiberius?"
Tippi smiled calmly, then tossed three gold coins to the board that had been in operation for over a year (a protracted war!).
"I bet it won't take more than a year!"