The Druid Who Devoured the Great Nature-Chapter 42 : You Have to Keep a Promise

Crash!
"Keoheok!"
A figure shot out through the door as if thrown by someone and tumbled into the hallway.
At first, no one recognized him.
His clothes were in tatters, his face swollen, and his skin covered in blood.
It was hard to associate the gruesome figure with a familiar face.
"What's with the sudden noise?"
"Hey, isn't that the commander?"
"Wait a minute, what's wrong with him?"
It was only a matter of time before they realized his identity.
The mercenaries' minds may have been lax, but their eyes weren't crooked.
The figure rolling around like a crushed can in front of them was their commander.
The mercenaries, who had been lounging around like sunbathing cats, focused their hazy eyes and got up from their spots.
"What are you doing, you bastards! Get your tools out, now!"
Percival screamed at his subordinates, his pronunciation garbled from his broken teeth.
"Well, why are you suddenly like this, sir."
"Just what on earth happened..."
"You worthless worms! Can't you tell just by looking?!"
Percival expressed his frustration at his subordinates' tardiness, but it was his own greed to expect a quick reaction from mercenaries who had long since thrown their sense of tension to the dogs.
"...Still haven't come to your senses. Your guts are good."
Someone walked out of the conference room, stepping on the broken door.
The gazes of the confused crowd focused on him.
His hair was neat, despite having been roughly tidied.
His facial lines were distinct even under the cheap lighting.
His well-proportioned, clear features were no different from a work of art that colored the monotonous cityscape.
The contractor, Allen.
He was looking down at Percival with an aloof gaze.
"Still, if you have any sense, you should look where you're lying down before stretching your legs. Isn't that right?"
The crowd clearly remembered him as having a gentle, pretty-boy-like atmosphere, as if he had been raised delicately.
Despite only a few minutes having passed, he was now the complete opposite.
His ice-cold expression exuded an intimidating pressure that made onlookers shrink back.
"You son of a bitch!"
While the mercenaries were only swallowing their saliva, Percival spat out a curse and swung his weapon.
Swoosh!
It was a desperate movement, unable to even plant his feet properly.
Nevertheless, the sound of the blade cutting through the air boasted an exceptional sharpness.
It was a blade imbued with mana.
All objects in its trajectory split and broke apart like soft tofu.
Whooosh!
But even that was useless.
The blade couldn't even touch the collar of Allen's clothes.
When it came within a hand's breadth, it was blocked as if by an invisible wall and trembled faintly.
"Kkeueueup!"
The veins in Percival's eyes burst, and blue veins bulged on his forearm.
He was literally squeezing out every last bit of his strength.
On the other hand, Allen watched the development leisurely without lifting a finger.
To anyone watching, the fight was already decided.
"Did you say you wouldn't stop me whether I died foolishly or not?"
Step!
Allen took a step forward.
Pushed back by him, Percival took a step back.
"You're right. If you'd rather die here than lend a hand, I should grant your wish."
"Eu, eugh!"
Allen cornered his opponent with a relaxed demeanor, as if he wasn't using even a handful of strength.
Percival couldn't find a way out and was helplessly pushed to the end of the wall.
Clang!
Soon, the mana vanished and the blade broke.
At the same time, a small piece of a wooden block fell from Allen's chest, but no one paid attention to such a minor detail.
"Just as you said, the success or failure of my request has nothing to do with your lives, right? If you're just going to be a hindrance, I should get rid of you."
Allen's body began to glow.
The flow of light that started from his chest spread throughout his body, dyeing his entire form green.
"...Aura?"
It was a change in mana that manifested when martial arts reached a certain level.
It was a skill where the difference in level was starkly apparent, even if it looked easy at a glance.
If it spread throughout the body in the blink of an eye, it was the level of a master.
At the very least, it wasn't a level that a young master from a noble house would learn as a cultural refinement.
It was a skill that even Percival himself, a mercenary who had been active on the front lines for a long time, was incapable of.
"Wa, wait a minute! I was wrong! I'll do whatever you say!"
Percival finally realized the difference in their power.
He shouted urgently, but Allen's reaction was different from before.
"Too bad. You should have made your decision a little sooner."
A cynical sneer.
His cool eyes overflowed with killing intent.
Percival's face turned deathly pale.
The light approached him.
It was not an ordinary light, but a green blade covering his white skin.
And then.
Thud!
Unable to overcome his fear, Percival lost consciousness and collapsed.
"..."
Silence fell upon the scene.
It was a sight that could be summed up in one clean sentence.
Their leader had been utterly defeated without being able to lift a finger.
Even the drugged-out lunatics came to their senses after witnessing the shocking scene.
Allen turned to look at them, his appearance neat without a single speck of dust.
"Is there anyone who wants to attack me for the sake of the commander's revenge?"
"..."
Is a commander a commander for no reason?
He is the commander of the mercenary corps because his skills are fundamentally the most superior.
And he had fallen.
Right before their eyes, with an undeniably overwhelming difference in skill.
"...Do as you wish."
The choice for the street thugs wearing the masks of mercenaries was set.
Their lives were more important than loyalty.
***
"He's not dead yet! Take him away quickly!"
"Can't you get a grip?! His arm is falling off!"
Percival wasn't dead.
I hadn't intended to go that far, and he had fainted before I could do anything.
When I told them his condition, the mercenaries dragged him somewhere for treatment.
The remaining ones looked at me nervously, their minds now completely sober.
I had nothing to say to them.
It wasn't like I did this to get the Python Mercenary Corps in my grasp.
Competent subordinates would be welcome, but incompetent ones are a burden.
'Once Percival wakes up, things will sort themselves out.'
I had subdued him with force, in accordance with the law of this world.
Since he's a guy who knows the value of his life, he'll cooperate with me as he begged.
It was a crude but clean solution that wouldn't leave any loose ends.
Flash!
I looked at my reflection in the glass window.
The light flashing through the clothes on my chest was peculiar.
'So the stats that became tattoos are being applied.'
The effect was just proven.
The physical ability to overwhelm a mercenary with bare hands.
Although it was the Totem of Protection that blocked the attack, that was just for show.
My enhanced vision could see the trajectory of the blade, and my elastic muscles could easily execute the movements to dodge it.
Even without me being conscious of it, my body was attempting movements on its own.
It was a feeling I hadn't had in a long time.
The assistance of a skill.
Even if we had fought properly, the outcome would not have changed.
'Piercing Gaze, Calm Breathing, Vital Point Judgment...'
Just looking at the list of shared skills was satisfying.
The system's precise assistance filled in the senses I used to cover with experience.
The effect of acquiring the Sentinel Hawk was several times greater than I had thought.
Tap, tap!
[The World Tree is jealous.]
'...Yeah, yeah. You're amazing too.'
The World Tree tapped my forearm with its sprout.
It seemed worried that its presence would diminish because I only praised the Sentinel Hawk.
It was an excessive worry.
There was no way the World Tree was inferior to the Sentinel Hawk.
The driving force that allowed me to overcome many crises as a contractor was the World Tree.
I was looking forward to how much more amazing it would become as it grew.
'To do that, I need to handle the request first.'
I felt a strange gaze.
When I turned my head, a man was smiling awkwardly at me.
"Haha, hello? We meet again soon."
It was the young guide.
"Weren't you supposed to be going to work?"
"Since I was the one who brought you here, I thought I might as well be the one to clean up..."
Getting the grunt work again?
He's going through a lot.
I shook my head and returned to the conference room.
"I'm not planning on flipping the table again, so you don't have to be on edge. As for what happened to that guy... I was just having a little conversation to ask for his cooperation."
A physical conversation is still a conversation.
It's a clearer and more fiery conversation than a wagging tongue that doesn't lead to a clear conclusion.
The guide awkwardly played along.
"Um, cooperation, cooperation, you say. You're quite fiery, unlike your appearance."
"In this industry, it's full of guys who only listen when you do this."
I tried to talk to him nicely too.
I just changed my course immediately after failing.
This was an industry where you'd be treated like a pushover if you were looked down upon.
"Current battle situation, operational plans, information on the opposing faction, and so on. If you have any organized materials, bring them and brief me on everything."
"Wa, wait a moment, please!"
The guide was at least someone who had the will to work.
I had no doubt that he would know more than Percival.
As expected, he brought neatly organized materials and explained them to me.
"...The front line has been pushed back this far?"
The Race Lizard's base had been identified.
It was about 10km in a straight line, not too far.
That distance between them had now closed to within 5km.
It was because the gang's forces were gradually advancing.
At this rate, it was estimated that it would only be a few days before the tips of their spears reached our chins.
'It overlaps perfectly with the request deadline.'
The Python Mercenary Corps only had to hold the front line until then.
It was a cunning trick, just like the guys who were thorough about their own gains.
Their discipline was lax, but they were thorough in this regard.
"What will you do?"
"Well."
In this situation, turning the tables and launching an offensive was impossible.
Looking at the discipline of the reserves here, I couldn't guarantee they would do more than act as meat shields if thrown into the front line.
'The standard method is to move the troops as if in a war.'
Unfortunately, that was beyond my capabilities.
Even in my multiple playthroughs, I had never acted as a commander.
It was also impossible to ask for help from a Sylvester strategist.
There would be no such person here, and the head office wouldn't allow personnel to be dispatched.
'If an offensive is impossible, there's only one thing to do.'
It was also a clever plan to incite the mercenary corps to fight with their lives on the line.
"Find out if Percival has woken up."
"Just a moment... Not yet, they say."
"Wake him up in five minutes."
He's not even a single bone broken, yet he's being so dramatic.
"You have to keep a promise."
They say to strike while the iron is hot.
I had no intention of dragging out the request for long.
***
"Are you awake?"
Percival was lying on a temporary sickbed made of gathered tables.
His hair was wet, looking like they had splashed water on him to wake him up in a hurry.
His eyes, looking up at me, trembled finely.
He spoke in a trembling voice, filled with fear.
"Th-thank you."
"For what?"
"Thank you for saving my life. I failed to recognize a great person and acted rudely."
He bowed his head first, as if he didn't even remember the first conversation where he had come on so strong.
It was an act that made one doubt if he had any pride, but this was normal.
"I'm glad you're not being unnecessarily stiff."
"..."
"It would have been a waste to have kept you alive otherwise, wouldn't it?"
Cold sweat trickled down Percival's neck.
I could have suddenly changed my mind and ended his life.
They say it's better to be alive, even if you have to roll in a dog-poop field.
He was acting wisely to survive.
"You haven't forgotten what you said, have you?"
"What...?"
"That you would cooperate as I say."
"Of course, sir."
The mercenary corps executives who were present also had no complaints.
"I will select the elite from my subordinates and open a path to the gang's headquarters."
"There's no need for that."
"...?"
"If they were worth defeating by selecting the elite, the fight would have ended early on."
They didn't avoid battle out of concern for casualties, but because they lacked the capability.
Since the Race Lizard gang's specialty was said to be traps using the terrain, leading troops to their base was a suicidal act.
"Then what are you planning to do..."
"Call back all the personnel who are out fighting in front."
"Excuse me?"
Not only Percival, but everyone present expressed their confusion.
"Retreat. I'm not saying anything difficult, am I?"
It meant exactly what it said.
But it was also a statement that directly shattered the request for cooperation they had expected.
"Then they will come rushing in."
"That's the idea."
"...!"
By now, the intention should have been conveyed sufficiently.
The crowd's eyes widened.
"It's foolish to fight on their home ground where we're at a disadvantage."
The opponent was the master of the house who reigned like a king in District 16.
It would be a different story if our forces were superior, but insisting on a head-on confrontation in a state of rough parity was just playing into their hands.
If we were to fight, it had to be in a place where we had the advantage.
"I-if we do that, even the Sylvester employees will be threatened by the gang!"
"Aren't you guys here to prevent that?"
I remembered it clearly.
The request the Python Mercenary Corps received was the subjugation of the gang, and if that was not feasible, the protection of the employees.
Percival, who was mulling over my words, let his jaw drop.
"Don't tell me...!"
"You said you'd complete your request even if you just sat on your hands here, right? Now it's the opposite."
My request conditions did not include the life or death of the Sylvester employees.
I just needed to finish cleaning up the gang.
The protection of the employees was the mercenary corps' share.
"We complete the request by each doing our own job. Clean, isn't it?"
There would be no one slacking off or not being tense.
Because if they did, their own lives would be on the line.
"The employees will protest..."
"Whether you force it or persuade them, that's also your job."
"..."
"I believe I told you."
This is an ultimatum.
"This isn't a proposal."
As I lowered my voice, Percival dropped his head and washed his dry face with his hands.
Soon, the order was given.
"...Call them all back."
He had no choice.
(End of Chapter)