Savage Ascension: Starting with God-Tier Plunder Ability-Chapter 100: Keep Them Thirsty

News that the Tracking Mercenary Group had been mobilized for the subjugation campaign spread everywhere through Senior Soldier Bulsheben. Of course, War Merchant Panfanel was able to hear it too.

"Phew."

He breathed a sigh of relief. Panfanel had deliberated so long over one gold coin that it had taken serious thought. Giving a gold coin to a mercenary group whose income was mostly silver coins was something that made you think that hard. How much money he had wasn't the basis for judgment.

If it were, everyone would be walking around with gold coins.

Only narrow-minded and selfish greed could lower someone else's value. Even if it meant throwing in a haunch of salted venison as a sweetener, loosening the purse strings for subordinates wasn't the right call. Once they feel satisfied, they start getting other ideas.

It was a ruthless way of thinking, but thirst was the best method for managing people.

'Almost would've been in big trouble if I hadn't given it.'

If he'd just been mobilized, he'd have let it go, but Bulsheben had told him that Rowan had been given word he'd be taking on a fairly important role, and that made Panfanel uneasy. The fortunate thing was that he'd met Rowan's demand.

'Almost paid dearly trying not to give one gold coin.'

His influence over the military looked set to grow considerably. He couldn't cause real damage, but he'd still have to spend some uncomfortable days. For Panfanel, who'd already become part of the established order, that was hard to tolerate.

People who enjoy solitude take it in stride, but those who don't can be so afraid of it they'd cut their own wrists in isolation.

At least in the subjugation campaign, the mere fact that Rowan was given an important role meant he was securing influence. If real resentment had built up, he would've done something reckless to butt heads with Panfanel.

Naturally, Commander Gesilian wouldn't side with the war merchant on the eve of battle. He was young, capable, and ambitious. Just hinting to Bulsheben that the mercenaries were fairly important would've already sealed the judgment.

Because of this background, Panfanel went to find Rowan himself.

"My, what brings you here?"

Rowan was surprised by the unexpected visitor. With four people the military tent was cramped, so Espin, catching Rowan's pointed look, grabbed Doren and headed out.

"I'll go confirm the subjugation campaign information again with the soldiers."

"Yes. Please do."

Espin, who'd dealt with older guys plenty of times, caught on right away. Two of Panfanel's employees placed a large leather sack inside the tent. They bowed deeply to Rowan and slipped out.

Rowan's gaze naturally drifted that way. Anticipation bubbled up. Thanks to that, the atmosphere was warm from the start.

"I heard you'll be taking on a fairly important mission in this subjugation campaign."

Rowan wanted to punch Panfanel right in his beaming face, but held back. Practical progress was more important than the raw thrill of the moment.

"You really can't say anything easily around here."

The connection between Panfanel and Bulsheben was enough to know every piece of information at the Kingdom Camp. At Rowan's complaint, Panfanel laughed it off. Rowan had also handled quite a bit of information through him, and here he was saying something like that.

'How are you and I any different?'

Panfanel snickered inwardly and then opened the leather sack his subordinate had brought. Inside was high-quality armor.

"Our relationship isn't something that started yesterday, is it?"

As soon as Rowan saw the high-quality leather armor, he smiled and fired right back.

"And it's a relationship that'll continue tomorrow, isn't it?"

Laughter spilled out of the military tent.

"I prepared exactly three sets. These are things you'd have a hard time finding on the market—took real effort."

"Mind if I take a look at how good they are?"

At that, Panfanel smiled with his eyes.

'Now we're talking.'

"Ahem! Do you have any liquor?"

"Three guys living in a military tent—of course we do."

Only after having a drink did Panfanel explain the armor. The pieces were a full set covering the upper body, lower body, shoulders and arms, boots that came up to the knee, and leather gloves. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"First, let me lay it all out..."

It was a fairly large leather sack since two employees had carried it. The glossy leather armor was different right from the surface. The product quality was outstanding.

'The look of it...'

It was like an apple washed with detergent and shining. While Panfanel carefully took out the leather armor and stacked it neatly, Rowan smiled.

'He came running with his tail between his legs just to bring a bribe. He really is scared of Commander Gesilian.'

A three-man mercenary group with little foundation like Rowan's could ditch their foundation and make a fresh start in another region at any time, but Panfanel couldn't. The foundation he'd built was concentrated in the Medio region. So it was Panfanel who had to come knocking.

It was no different from a complete reversal of fortunes.

"Inside the leather armor there's a very thin iron plate. You can see where the stitching was erased here, but you'll still see the marks."

On the inside of the shoulder guard, specifically on the side, there were indeed stitching marks. Some kind of unknown adhesive was hardened there.

'Even sanded it down smooth.'

You could naturally confirm the effort put in, and since it was sewn into the inner side of the shoulder guard near the neck—where it was hardest to strike—there was no worry of it bursting. It was a spot where a sword could slip through, but unless it pierced the neck, stabbing was impossible.

'This was made by someone with real know-how making leather armor.'

Of course it would be expensive. And you wouldn't be able to find it. The value had gone up because so many wanted it, and there'd naturally be monopoly competition through power struggles.

"Impressive. Is there iron plate everywhere?"

"Yes, of course. But it's a little heavier than regular leather armor. Because of the leather."

"How many kilograms?"

Before giving the weight, Panfanel said he'd explain the leather first. It was like a peddler pitching the advantages first to stoke a buyer's desire.

"The leather is from an animal called a hoop rhinoceros. It's an herbivore that even hundred-beasts supposedly can't mess with carelessly. They say it eats meat when hungry, but that's hard to believe... haha."

Rowan was interested. It was an animal name he'd never heard before.

"Its body is as big as a large boulder. It has something like round iron on its front and hind legs, which makes it very hard to aim for the underbelly or throat—so it's extremely difficult to catch, and getting undamaged leather from it is just as hard."

You could naturally picture it. An absolutely brute-force defense.

"How do you catch it?"

"Usually you can't. It's safe to say it has almost no natural predators. That's why even I don't know the details."

Rowan groaned. He'd built up all this atmosphere and then said he didn't know either.

"Feel it. It's glossy because it's been oiled, but the thickness is substantial. Even so, it's lighter than you'd expect."

"Hmm, really. I'm not sure why they even needed to add iron plates."

At that, Panfanel felt a pang. It was actually true—this was an item from an imperial workshop that had made its way to him. The flaw, as Rowan correctly identified, was in the weight.

"The leather itself is heavy, so the total weight is around ten kilograms."

Rowan's expression changed.

"Wait, leather armor at seven kilograms would already be..."

Even as total weight, that was heavy.

"Yes. It's practically on par with a breastplate."

It was outrageous armor.

"Still, the defense is excellent."

Rowan wasn't thrilled, but since it was a gift, he figured he shouldn't show too much displeasure.

"Still, the defensive capability is exceptional, so it's definitely top-grade."

"Yes..."

He figured it was like thinking of wearing chain mail. But thinking of it that way made it look even worse. Unlike chain mail, which protected the whole body like clothing, leather armor had many gaps.

'Can't use this on Espin or Doren right now.'

Rowan, who'd eaten the undead knight's remnants, had such exceptional physical strength he could wear it and climb mountain hills without problem—but the two of them were different. They still had a long way to go in conditioning.

Rowan, having taken the bribe, even packed up the leather sack.

"I'll give it to my members, but they can't use it yet..."

Ditching familiar weight and switching to new armor took time to get used to. Switching right before the subjugation campaign wasn't a good choice. And since the two might be disgruntled, it wasn't good for Rowan to use it immediately either.

'It's not without drawbacks, but it's worth using.'

It also sparked some interesting ideas. The armor's drawbacks were actually interesting elements for Rowan, who was planning arrangements for his secret techniques.

The two men didn't say much. They acted as if they'd forgotten about the whole thing. Panfanel was able to confirm Rowan's goodwill once more, and Rowan developed more favorable feelings toward Panfanel through his gesture.

At least on the surface, that's how the results looked.

In the meantime, the previously established subjugation plan was being completely revised. It was a round table meeting attended by veteran soldiers, Senior Soldier Bulsheben, and Commander Gesilian Faerun.

It was by no means an equal round table meeting. There were clearly different levels, and the top and bottom seats were visually distinct.

"Since three mercenaries brought in thirty-one robbers, we should properly make use of them this time around."

Since the soldiers' revolt, formal condescension wasn't practiced in the Southern Kingdom's military hierarchy. The awareness that respect between soldiers and officers had to at least be shown on the outside had spread minimally. Of course, there were many commanders who didn't care about that.

Commander Gesilian showed respect in round table meetings, but mixed in informal speech outside of them. He was aware he should, but his fundamental core was that of a noble. He'd end up slipping into casual speech from time to time.

"The Tracking Mercenary Group has a small number of people. If we use them, scouting is the right fit."

"Most of our soldiers are heavy infantry—what good does scouting do? If thirty-one robbers have already been taken down, the robbers' alertness will be up."

"These are people who live day to day without a thought. Does there need to be such a careful approach?"

Opinions on the robbers' level were all different.

"Aren't you overestimating the mercenary group's level? Not a single one of them is twenty years old."

On that point, Gesilian cut it off sharply.

"There's no need to doubt the Tracking Mercenary Group's abilities, so please refrain from that topic."

"Yes..."

There was no fool who'd ask why.

Rowan's characteristic calluses—those who knew, knew. Not many, but still. Of course, since it was something that had to be kept hidden on the surface, no veteran soldier blabbed carelessly. If word got around that he was a knight...

'Just imagining it is horrifying.'

Everyone would whisper among themselves, but saying it in an official setting was another matter, and recklessly running your mouth everywhere wasn't good either. The quieter your mouth, the more virtuous it was, and the basics were sharing information only among close acquaintances while building camaraderie.

"If we send out scouts, we need to see major results. It may look like a subjugation campaign, but ambush and surprise attack should be the main approach."

It meant not subjugating all the robbers but approaching it differently.

"We need to find a robber hideout with at least thirty people."

The round table was heated. Many soldiers were trying to appeal to Commander Gesilian by any means. He wasn't just any noble—he was a noble with a family. They were willing to dance even if their achievements ended up sliding right into his mouth.