Note From Lore: Just in case anyone was surprised or confused, Iale is now changed to Irial.
Translated by Dellphit
Edited by Lore
Shocked from the unexpected confession, I shook my head in refusal but Trom-Well had no intention of giving in and continuously spewed out apologies. In the end, I gave in to his stubbornness and accepted his remorse.
I was probably the only one who ever felt this uncomfortable after receiving an apology…
After the second checkpoint, the endless streams of monsters that harassed our convoy day and night finally began to die down.
The mercenaries who had shed blood till their veins ran dry were finally able to relax. Bands of orcs often ambushed, but their numbers were like a drop in a pond compared to the past. The Champagne Mercenaries were unable to get a chance to display their skills as the monster parties never managed to breach past the front lines.
As a result, Harol, who always itched for action suffered from not being able to swing his axe.
“Damn damn damn, I’ll be bloody damned! I hate this kind of peace! When are the monsters attacking?!”
“Shut up, you butcher! What don’t you like about this? Just shut your mouth and follow.”
“Why do you only hate on me!”
“Then do something likeable for once! Hosane, do you have no thoughts about kicking this buffoon out of here? At this rate, our class will fall!”
At Irial’s maddened shouts, Hosane frowned as he seemed to be stuck in a dilemma and thought deeply. A few moments later, he nodded as if he had reached a conclusion.
“You’re actually right.”
“He- Hey! What do you mean she’s right? You damned boss! If you treat me like this, then I’ll say that you and Sherry are in a XXX relationship!”
Tremble. I probably am not the only one who can see the vein bulging from Hosane’s forehead as a dark look flashed across his face.
One of the reasons why Hosane has not accepted Sherry was because of Harol’s taunts.
I could still remember that time when he screamed out, ‘I am not a Lolicon’ at the top of his lungs like it happened yesterday.
With that one line, Harol had troubled a hive of wasps.
The price of such an offense became clear soon after. Without a word, he drew his freshly sharpened blade. At that moment, Harol realized he had screwed up… Severely. His face twisted in horror as Hosane charged before Harol even had a chance to beg for mercy.
“W-w-Wahhhhh~~~ The boss’s gone crazy!! Save me!!!!”
“Shut up, you damnable bastard! Die!!!!!”
That was how the game of hunter and prey began that day. The foreign mercenaries who had yet to see Harol in such a state turned away, looking embarrassed as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. But not a single change in expression could be seen in the faces of the Champagne Mercenaries.
“Whistle~ You’re the best, boss! Make sure you milk that fool dry of tears today!”
“It’s fine if you go all the way, boss! We’ll just bury the corpse in a handsome ditch, so don’t worry about the aftermath!”
“If it’s hard for you Sir Hosane, we could help!”
The Champagne Mercenaries seemed so delighted at Harol’s misfortune that they used honorifics when addressing Hosane. It seemed that Harol was the type to make enemies anywhere and everywhere.
