Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

Author: Pintoa

Summary:

The barbarian from East Inassus sat on a throne that did not belong to him. The mercenary who was paid for the job turned a coin between his fingers. The side with the bust of Reslaufer turned over, and together with the king's supporter, he looked down at the downtrodden nobles who came to meet him.

"Let me ask you, are you my next Majesty?"

Chapter 1 Jealousy and Greed

Hard and cold metal discs kept slipping from his fingertips, colliding with each other and falling back into the purse that contained them.

Leslaufer left the last one with two fingers, raised it and held it to his icy blue eyes for closer inspection.

This is a "new coin" gold coin, with a bust of the young emperor of the Matter dynasty on the obverse, surrounded by the initials "Our Lord Richard VII" and "The Empire Lives Forever". The reverse is the scales symbol of the Matter royal family and the mark of the mint that struck it, as well as a prominent face value "1" in the lower center.

This was one-ninety-sixth of Reslaufer's salary from last month. In the past—just seven years ago, in fact—the value of one Imperial gold coin was quite stable, and could be exchanged for a full ten kilograms of wheat or seventeen kilograms of barley. Even an apprentice shieldman could support a large family on a monthly salary of ten gold coins. But after the ascension of His Majesty Richard, the man on the coin, a gold coin with his portrait on it could hardly exchange for even ten kilograms of barley. As for the one he held now, it was said to be the recently issued "new coin"...

"One gold coin for one kilogram of wheat? That's almost the same as ten silver coins," Leslaufer chuckled. "Our Emperor has done nothing but reign for seven years, and this gold coin is now only a third of its original value."

Or a quarter? The gold coin in his hand was so fragile that he felt he could bend it if he wasn't careful. Calling it a bad coin was an insult to the word "bad coin". Raslau had never received such a reward in Inassus, Haidong, or even in the northernmost Ampiri.

The people there were uniformly and contemptuously called barbarians by the Matt Dynasty, and the coins they minted, imitating the Matt Dynasty's currency, were also called counterfeit coins. But since at least seven years ago, those barbarian counterfeit coins have become more popular than the imperial gold coins.

At least they would not claim that a "half gold coin" or even a "quarter gold coin" could be exchanged for gold of the same weight as a full gold coin. This "new rule" guaranteed by so-called credibility was considered by most people, including Reslaufer, to be no different from robbery and fraud.

But Reslaufer still stood here, among the mercenaries hired by the nobles who served His Majesty the Emperor, helping the royal family of the Matt Empire fight against the endless rebels and rebellious parties that emerged due to the implementation of the new currency system.

This kind of "loyalty" and "honor" has its own price. The salaries of the mercenaries have generally increased by 10 to 50 percent, but Leslaufer would rather not have such a salary increase. If he can settle with gold coins printed with the portrait of the former king, he is willing to pay half the amount.

But now was not the time to reminisce about the past. Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. He calmly tossed the gold coins back into his purse, tied the rope tightly, and turned slightly to the side. Several gazes that had been fixed on him since a while ago were quickly traced back to their source.

They were three mercenaries from the same faction as him but from different organizations. Judging from their attire, they should be a light cavalry unit from the eastern part of the empire. Although to Reslaufer they were imperial citizens just like the nobles here, to the local residents here, they were also outsiders.

The difference was that these light cavalry seemed to have been hired a year or two ago, and Raslaufer had been here less than two months ago.

Benjamin Russo had no idea that the indignation of his two seniors had been noticed by them. His boots trampled the sand on the ground again and again like horse hooves, and his brown eyes looked from time to time at the back of the mercenary who was about thirty years old. In his field of vision, the gray-white cloak fixed on the left side of Reslaufer was even more eye-catching than silver.

Thinking of how he and his companions were treated like barbarians when they first arrived in the central part of the empire, the young mercenary couldn't help but grumble:

"He's just a barbarian, why are you showing off... Do you really think that just because you have a blanket like this, you're a Magparesian?"

Magpales was the capital of the Maartian Dynasty, also located in the center of the empire. It is said that both commoners and nobles there liked to wear such a cloak over their clothes as decoration to show that they were superior to residents of other areas.

If he could get so much money, he would also get a cape like this to show off - and this is the most important thing - why does this mercenary get so much money?!

"Using the old Imperial gold coins, trainee shieldmen make about ten gold coins a month, full-fledged soldiers thirteen, spearmen seventeen, crossbowmen a little over twenty, and longbowmen another ten gold coins. Even the elven longbowmen to the east only make ten more than that," an old soldier beside Benjamin muttered quietly. "And us 'four-legged men,' even new recruits can earn thirty gold coins a month."

"We get forty, and the captain gets double that. That's what cavalry is, ha!" another veteran added. "But look at this guy. Tsk, tsk, he probably gets even more than our captain, doesn't he?"

"More than that!" The veteran, who had been counting his wages like the back of his hand, waved his hands furiously. His flushed face and neck made him look drunk. "I'd say that barbarian took at least ninety! Didn't you hear the rustling of those gold coins just now?"

"Really?" Benjamin's eyes widened immediately. He had never seen so much money!

The young rider had only heard that nobles and wealthy merchants would use a fake currency called "gold pounds" to keep accounts. One gold pound could be converted into about one hundred or one hundred and twenty gold coins. Doesn't that mean...

That mercenary can earn nearly this amount in a month?

"Why should he?!"

"Tsk, young man," the seemingly sober veteran glared at Benjamin with a look of having seen it all, seeming a little displeased with his outburst, yet also somewhat pleased with his reluctance. "We're in a bloody business, and there are plenty of people earning more. I heard there's a captain in the regiment that went to war with our Emperor who earns 200 gold coins a month!"

"But you're right about one thing—the one I'm talking about is the captain of a 25-man heavy cavalry unit. What right does such a barbarian have?"

"I don't accept it either!" The drunken veteran patted Benjamin's shoulder. "Boy, we've witnessed such an unfair thing today. Can you swallow this?"

Benjamin’s eyes suddenly lit up. He might not have much experience, but he was not a fool. How could he not know what these two seniors meant?

"You mean-"

"This place is outside our camp, and outside their infantry camp, and it's only a short distance from the military market." The red-faced old soldier's eyes flashed cunningly as he pointed to a bustling group of tents not far away. "No one is armed or armored. If we fight here, no one can help us, and we have three of us."

"Blind him, pin him to the ground, beat him to vent his anger, then steal his money bag and rush into the market. He has no choice but to suffer this loss even if he doesn't want to!"

Chapter 2 Collapse at the First Touch

"Good idea!" another veteran immediately agreed. "Let's send one of us out first to distract him, and the remaining two will attack from behind, one on each side. He's definitely going to take this loss today!"

"Benjamin boy, what do you think of this idea?"

The two veterans stared at him with their green eyes, only to find that the young man's eyes were even brighter than theirs.

"And we rob him like this every month?"

"Hiss--" The old soldiers looked at each other and couldn't help but take a breath: This kid is a treasure!

"I advise you not to do this," the seemingly drunken man said quickly. "This kind of thing only works the first time. Who doesn't have a few friends? It would be bad if you got caught again. This is the only time."

"The stolen money..."

"You're the kid, you take 40%, and we two old guys each take 30%," another veteran decided. "Hey, what a fat sheep! It's enough to cover our wages for most of half a month!"

"Benjamin, who do you want to take charge of? Talk to him and attract his attention, or follow me to attack from behind?" asked the red-faced veteran.

"Don't blame me for not warning you. Talking to him may not seem like a physically demanding task, but if he actually complains to his superiors, you might be identified and even get a beating."

The beating will not be light, because the person who carries out the punishment is most likely the unlucky one who was robbed; but the punishment cannot be said to be severe either, because out of the more than ninety gold coins, they will only spit out those that are "unspent".

No one would expect their fellow mercenaries to be ascetic monks, right?

As for possible retaliation, no one thought that far ahead. After all, if the war hadn't lasted for years, they wouldn't have gathered together. Who knew who would fall on which battlefield at any time? Perhaps they would be the unlucky ones who got robbed, or perhaps they would arrive but never have time to spend all their gold.

Benjamin Russo nodded. "It's just a whipping. I'm young, so of course I'll do it."

As he spoke, the young cavalryman walked towards Reslaufer. When he was almost close, he deliberately patted the cloth on his body to attract the other party's attention, so as to avoid the two seniors who were skilled in hiding their figures from being noticed.

"Hello, the weather is really nice today. Are you going to the market?"

Reslaufer hurriedly put the heavy purse on the belt on his left hand side, and at the same time deliberately pulled the cloak forward on his shoulders, as if to cover the purse. "Ah, hello, young friend, I am just going to the market to take a look, just to take a look."

Reslaufer's blatant attempts to conceal his intentions clearly failed to dispel Benjamin's interest. He walked up to Reslaufer's side with a familiar air, motioning for the man, who was perhaps ten years his senior, to join him. "Come on, uncle, no one goes to the market just to look. Those merchants accompanying the army are shrewder than foxes. Why don't you tell me what you want to buy? Maybe I can introduce you to someone I know!"

"You?" Reslaufer looked at Benjamin as he walked, a look of disbelief in his eyes. "I'm not saying anything, young man, you might be..."

"Too young?" Benjamin laughed. "Uncle, I've been here two years, longer than most people! Age alone doesn't count!"

Leslaufer nodded involuntarily, but his eyes glanced to the side and rear, where a red-faced cavalryman was crouching down, walking lightly, and slowly approaching them.

In the other direction, without even looking at Raslaufer, he knew there was another cavalryman standing parallel to his companion, that is, at the same distance from him as the fellow on this side.

"You're right. Okay, I'm convinced by you. Do you know where I can buy 'laughing flowers'?" Leslough also laughed along with Benjamin. He pronounced the words he needed very heavily, and mixed them with a little accent from other places.

"Laughing Flower? Is that a herb?" Benjamin frowned slightly. "I really don't know about that, but I know an alchemist—"

"Oh, no, no, this isn't for making tincture," Leslaufer quickly raised his right hand and waved it. "It's just a very fragrant flower. I loved the smell when I was serving in Haidong, so I wanted to see if I could get a pot of it."

"Haidong?" Benjamin raised his voice in surprise. His two companions were quite close, and he needed to drown out the slight noise they made. "That's quite far away! You've actually been there?"

Reslaufer puffed out his chest proudly. "Of course! I've been to many places, including the lowlands east of the sea, the plains and forests of Inassus, and the mountains and hills of Ampiri! You may not have been to the north of the empire, right? What about the peninsulas and archipelagos in the west? The great desert in the south has its own unique charm! And the east, oh, that's the homeland of the elves, and it's completely different from ours!"

Benjamin was stunned. He listened to Reslaufer talking to himself, completely forgetting to cover his teammates - but the man's voice was loud enough. Benjamin listened attentively to Reslaufer talking about the customs and people of what seemed to him like another world, and he couldn't help but feel a little intoxicated.

This person has been to so many places...

Benjamin had no intention of interrupting Leslough. He just hoped that the man would speak faster so that he could hear more of the story before beating him up. But unfortunately, the two veterans had already touched each other's backs.

But it was not his comrade who woke Benjamin up, but this middle-aged infantryman who was talking nonsense!

"I haven't told you about the West Side story yet, have I? The people there admire a strange sword technique. It's said that if you master it to the highest level, even the most powerful magician can't defeat you. Unfortunately, I didn't stay there for long, so I only learned the basics."

Reslaufer suddenly raised his left hand, which had been hidden under his cloak, in a state of excitement. He swung the gray cloak back, just enough to cover the head of the unsuspecting cavalryman. "Just like this!"

Benjamin was shocked, and even the two veterans who were obviously not doing this for the first time were shocked. However, Leslough did not give them time to gasp. With the help of his powerful arm, his right fist as big as a sandbag hit the other veteran's red nose hard. His left hand turned into an iron clamp to strangle the back of the neck of the veteran with his head and face covered, and with the inertia of his right arm, he easily brought the head to Benjamin's chest.

The weight of an adult man gathered on the skull and hit Benjamin's chest which was not protected by leather armor. It was definitely not inferior to any blunt weapon!

Benjamin was immediately knocked backwards to the ground. The veteran, whose head and face were covered and who had completely lost his vision, pressed on him, and even wanted to attack him with his claws and teeth bared. The red-faced veteran who was hit on the nose rushed up again, but only three or five seconds later, Benjamin heard his cry of pain and saw that the "unlucky guy" who had been robbed was kicked to his knees on the ground, and his arms were locked so that he could not move!

What did I do? What did he do?!

Chapter 3 Okay

Benjamin saw the pair of ice-blue eyes looking at him with a mocking smile, and he, who was frantically trying to help his companions untie the restraints, looked more like the one being robbed - or the whole scene was more like the three of them being robbed by one person!

This is not right, this is not right!

"Behave yourself. Your skills are not good enough, but at least you can understand my expression, right?" Leslough freed one hand and slapped the red-faced man who was restrained under him on the cheek. The latter immediately stopped struggling and shrank his neck obediently.

"Hey man, loosen up, loosen up a little, I give up, I can't breathe."

Red Face and his companion were considered quite brave in the cavalry, but in front of this barbarian who had only been there for two months, he didn't even have the face to say that this was a fight - so what were he waiting for if he didn't admit defeat?

"Tsk," a disdainful voice came from the barbarian above. "Matt Light Cavalry, right? Don't be so quick to deny it. Your prices are the lowest among cavalrymen both inside and outside the Empire. In the west, even the Empire's crossbowmen get more than you."

"Then you must be talking about the Highland Crossbowmen in the north..." Red Face retorted dejectedly, his words lacking any confidence. "So you really have been to many places... Who are you?"

"He's a 'Doppler,' you idiots."

As a woman's cold voice suddenly rang out, Benjamin was easily separated and pulled up by two slender arms. The veteran now had the opportunity to tear off the cloak on his head with countless ropes sewn on the back - if these fancy decorations had not entangled his arms during his first struggle and then became more and more tangled, he should have been able to get rid of it earlier.

The three pairs of eyes of the cavalrymen all looked at the figure that appeared here at some unknown time. It was an elf, whose age was impossible to judge. He wore an emerald green robe embroidered with delicate silver lace. His gray-gold hair was tied up behind his head, revealing his eye-catching ears.

The reason it was so eye-catching wasn't because of the pointed ear on the right side, which looked like an ordinary elf's. The cavalrymen all came from the eastern part of the empire. While not on the border, they did have more opportunities to see elves. What set this elf apart from the others was her left ear: the top of the ear on this side was flat, as if it had been cut off by a sharp weapon.

That part had indeed been severed by a sharp weapon. To be more precise, it was the enemy's halberd—which nearly sliced off half of her head.

"One-Ear Amantha!" Benjamin Russo's eyes widened immediately and he couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh my God, is it you? I won't make a mistake. I grew up listening to your legendary stories!"

"Although the word 'legend' is debatable, you can even die listening to my story - if you are no longer blind and follow these two old rogues to provoke a 'Doppler'." The elf waved his hand and repeated the strange title.

Leslaufer released the veteran from under him. He was sure that the other party would not be stupid enough to resist in front of a captain, even if Amansha was not his direct superior.

"You're finally here," he walked forward and patted the elf's shoulder, which was level with his own, in a friendly manner. "I never thought that I would be robbed as a newcomer one day. If you had come any later, I would have come to you crying!"

"Are you crying about how you were so careless and accidentally killed three people with your bare hands?" The elf, nicknamed "One-Eared" Amantha by Benjamin, didn't even look at the old man she had personally recruited. She turned to the two veterans and raised her chin. "Go explain what Doppler is to that new guy, or don't you know either?"

"I know, of course I know." The red-faced veteran, who had been released by Reslaufer, finally realized who he had provoked. He immediately nodded and bowed awkwardly, walked to his two companions, and apologized to Reslaufer and Amantha awkwardly. "We were reckless. If we had known that this was East Inassus's 'double-paid mercenary', we would never have had such unreasonable thoughts..."

"Double-paid mercenaries?" Benjamin looked at his senior, somewhat bewildered. The young man had clearly not recovered from the shock of confronting a legend. So this was what Doppler meant?

It doesn't sound like an honorific or intimidating title...

"Double-paid mercenaries, transliterated as 'Doppler,'" another veteran respectfully picked up the cloak he had thrown on the ground, folded it, and then handed it back to Leslaufer with both hands. "Literally, they can get double the pay."

Benjamin blinked, he still wanted to ask the original question: Why.

"A charging cavalryman's horse won't die suddenly, nor will a spearman's weapon break on its own," the red-faced old soldier whispered. "If we don't want to sacrifice human lives, we need people like this to do it. Our empire doesn't have this kind of specialized division of labor, but in East Inassus, these people are 'Dopplers.' The most skilled, the most dangerous missions, the highest rewards."

The red-faced veteran looked at Leslaufer, his eyes half respectful and half confused. "But generally speaking, a Doppler of your age is usually more..."

"More powerful? Surrounded by followers? Knighted, or at least captain?" A smile crossed Reslaufer's lips. He knew what the other person was thinking. Many people asked him this question. "Of course it's for the reward. People like her get paid less than I do."

He stretched out his hand and tried to put his arm around Amantha's shoulders, but she rolled her eyes and turned away. However, her attitude of not refuting also confirmed that what Lesloff said was true.

Classified as heavy infantry, without bows and horses to maintain, Reslaufer's basic salary was not much higher than those of ordinary infantrymen. However, as a veteran, he could receive double the pay, and his status as a "double-paid mercenary" could double that number. As the captain of the infantry, Amantha only received twice as much as the ordinary soldiers. Her identity as an elf did not bring her any more benefits in this regard.

Reslaufer didn't pursue the offense of the three unfortunate men. To him, neither apology nor compensation meant anything. Amantha's arrival prevented him from demanding more, so he decided to let them go. He was more interested in the news brought by the elf who had tricked him into joining the "Emperor's Army."

He was familiar with Amantha. This elf, like most of her compatriots, looked down on the entertainment of the human world and would only spend the money she earned here in the east. Her sudden appearance here was definitely not to go to the market.

"There might be a fierce battle tomorrow," Amantha said, as expected. After watching the three cavalrymen disappear from sight, she looked away and said, "Originally, we had an agreement with the other side that this time they would feign defeat and we would achieve a complete victory. But according to the information sent back by the informant, they may very well break the agreement."

"Interesting," Reslaufer shrugged. The mercenary warbands were usually fought by another group of mercenaries. If Amantha hadn't come to him and told him the price was higher, Reslaufer would have been on the other side. "Then let's fight."

The renowned elven mercenary gave him a speechless look, but he knew he wouldn't dwell on such a question. "...So we have to prepare for both scenarios. The team in pursuit can't get too deeply involved. If they do, a small team will have to block the enemy's rapidly closing 'pocket' to buy time for the other teams."

"The main people in charge this time are several veterans, including you and me. In return, we can receive an extra month's salary after we return. This is clearly written in the contract terms."

"Can you promise?" Raslough looked into Amantha's brown eyes.

"Don't worry," the elf said, knowing the other party wasn't asking about salary. "Your position is on the front left wing. If the other party breaks the contract, they will definitely counterattack from that side, cutting off the people in the front and the main force. It's definitely the most dangerous position."

The double-paid mercenary grinned broadly, his mouth tilted upwards to both sides: "Okay."

Chapter 4 Where Have All the Cavalry Gone?

Leslaufer was satisfied, but in a large camp farthest from the battlefield, a young noble with black shoulder-length hair was pacing back and forth in the tent in a restless manner. In front of him, a middle-aged man, dressed similarly to Benjamin and the others, but more expensively, stood there, watching with interest the master who was talking to him, who was running around like an ant on a hot pan.

"Stop looking at me like that!" Finally, the black-haired noble couldn't help himself. He stopped angrily and turned to glare at the leader of one of the several mercenary groups he hired. "This is your fault, yours! Not mine!"