NOVEL NEXT Chapter 156: Mercenaries
The reception desk was a rough-hewn counter, scratched and stained from years of elbows slamming coin purses onto it. A wiry clerk in a patched vest argued heatedly with a mercenary over fees, waving a quill like a weapon.
Ethan, Lirael, and Sylvie waited in line. Ethan's arms were folded loosely.
That was when the air behind them grew heavy.
A shadow stretched across the floor. The faint smell of sweat and iron—like old blood—rolled over them. Ethan didn't need to turn; he gave a lazy sideways glance, then shifted his eyes back to the counter, utterly indifferent.
The man looming behind them was massive, his presence filling the space like a boulder blocking a stream. Scars crisscrossed his broad chest where his leather vest hung open, and coarse black hairs bristled like wire across his skin. His jaw was square, his nose crooked from an old break, and his eyes burned with the need to assert dominance.
The hell's this? he thought, glaring down at Ethan. Fresh faces, dressed too clean… and they don't even move aside for me? Thinkin' he is cool in front of his pretty girls?
His lip curled. The guild had its own hierarchy, unspoken but ironclad. Seniors didn't wait behind whelps—whelps got out of the way. That was how it worked.
But these three? They didn't so much as flinch.
The big man's jaw ticked with irritation.
Slowly, he reached out and clamped a scarred, meaty hand onto Ethan's shoulder, his grip heavy and territorial.
The wood of the floor creaked as his weight shifted forward. "Oi," he rumbled, voice low and rough as gravel. "You blind, boy? Or you really think you're standin' above me?"
For a heartbeat, the guild went quieter. A few nearby mercenaries leaned back in their chairs, smirks forming as they watched the scene unfold. This was the kind of entertainment they lived for—newcomers tested by the wolves.
Lirael's eyes narrowed faintly, her hand hovering near her dagger's hilt. Sylvie stiffened, pressing closer to Ethan.
Ethan didn't move. His shoulders remained relaxed, as though the man's grip was nothing more than a fly landing on him.
Fools are everywhere huh?
Then he exhaled slowly through his nose. Then hardened his expression.
The man's hand pressed harder into Ethan's shoulder, calloused fingers digging like iron clamps.
Ethan's expression hardened. His eyes, flat a moment ago, now burned cold. His voice cut through the tavern's noise like a blade.
"Remove it."
The man blinked, thrown off. "What?"
Ethan's gaze never wavered. "I won't repeat myself. Remove your hand from my shoulder."
A vein bulged on the man's temple. His breath, heavy with alcohol and cheap ale, washed over Ethan's face as he leaned closer.
"Remove it, huh? Why shouldn't I remove you instead?" His lips peeled back in a grin, and with a grunt, he tried to shove Ethan aside.
The wooden floor groaned under the strain—yet Ethan didn't move an inch.
The man's eyes widened. "Huh?"
In the same breath, Ethan's hand shot up, clamping onto the man's wrist. With a swift twist and a casual sweep, he redirected the brute's strength sideways. The man's body flipped with shocking ease, crashing down onto a cluster of empty tables. Wood splintered, mugs clattered to the floor, and the whole hall stilled.
All eyes locked onto Ethan—the "soft noble boy" who had just tossed a scarred veteran like he was nothing.
Ethan dusted his shoulder as if brushing off dirt. His voice, calm and measured, carried clearly through the guild hall.
"I did say remove your hand."
The wiry clerk behind the counter didn't even flinch. He merely sighed, flicked his quill over his ledger as if it was everyday thing, and said dryly, "You're not leaving without paying for those tables."
Ethan shot him a glance, then shrugged. "Yeah yeah. Fine." His tone was casual
The man staggered to his feet, face flushed crimson—half from the impact, half from humiliation. His chest heaved, pride warring with fear as the alcohol clouded his judgment. Snarling, he reached for the sword strapped at his waist.
But Ethan's voice cut in again, sharp enough to freeze the air.
"You know what you're doing… right?"
The man's hand hovered over the hilt. His pupils shrank. Around them, the watching mercenaries stiffened, understanding the unspoken weight of those words.
This wasn't just about a fight anymore. Ethan was dressed finely, carried himself with too much composure. Whether noble-born or not, he looked like one and that mattered, the implication was clear: drawing steel here could be taken as raising a blade against a noble. That meant execution.
The brute's knuckles whitened on the hilt before he slowly, painfully, let go.
Even if he deals with this noble kid now, retaliation may occur later...
His chest heaved as his drunken haze gave way to cold sobriety. He wasn't just dealing with a strong opponent. He was dealing with someone dangerous.
Ethan tilted his head, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So? What'll it be? Getting killed by my hands… or walking away with your pride in pieces?"
The mercenary swallowed hard, every scar on his body suddenly feeling heavy. With visible effort, he steadied himself and lowered his gaze. "I… I'm sorry. I acted impulsively. The drink…" His tone was almost pitiful now now stripped of its earlier bluster.
Ethan leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "Good that you understand." His voice softened—but only slightly. "Now pay for the damages… and disappear from my sight."
The man fumbled at his belt, pulled free a pouch of coins, and slapped it onto the counter with trembling fingers. Without another word, he slunk away to the far corner of the hall, shoulders hunched, head bowed.
The guild's usual clamor returned slowly, whispers rippling through the crowd. But no one laughed this time.
They had seen it clearly—this man who looked more scholar than soldier had just broken one of their wolves without breaking a sweat. And worse, he'd done it with that terrifying air of certainty.
The mans life was worth more than his pride. And everyone else watching knew the man did the right thing, even if it eats at his pride.
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Mercenaries are divided in Metal ranks:
From highest to lowest rank is as follows.
Adamantium
Mithril
Orichulcum
Gold
Silver
Iron
Black Iron
Bronze
Copper