I'm the Crazy One in the Family
Chapter 109: The Consideration of the Strong (3)

Chapter 109: The Consideration of the Strong (3)

Burgundy had been disguising himself as Garen, an Amantir-class mercenary. But when Keter called upon him, the look in his eyes changed.

Humans who possessed aura emitted a certain energy. This was different from mere presence, as it reflected the total amount and density of the aura one held. If left uncontrolled, this energy naturally leaked out, making one more noticeable. However, no one deliberately released their aura in such a wasteful manner—it would be an inefficient use of energy and an unnecessary way to attract attention.

Mercenaries, however, usually let their energy flow freely, flaunting their strength. It served as a warning that they were strong and that people should tread carefully and think twice before picking a fight.

Among the lower classes—Bronze, Silver, and Gold—this didn’t differ much, as they either lacked aura or possessed an amount too insignificant to be noticed. But from Platinum-class onward, the difference became overwhelming. One glance was enough to recognize their classes.

The energy of an Orichalcum-class mercenary, the highest class in the mercenary world, was unmistakable. Their aura, equivalent to a five-star knight, was impossible to ignore.

Burgundy, though an Orichalcum-class mercenary, had suppressed his aura, making it seem no stronger than that of an Amantir-class’. His goal was to infiltrate Sefira, analyze it, and gather intelligence while remaining unnoticed.

And yet, he had been caught almost instantly by Keter.

Before entering the mansion, all mercenaries had undergone identity verification at Sefira’s main gate, checked by the knights of the Order of the Galaxy, who were all three-star. Yet, none of them had realized Burgundy's true class, allowing him to pass without suspicion.

It wasn’t because the knights were careless. Rather, Burgundy’s aura suppression was so refined that they simply hadn't detected it. And yet, Keter had seen through it—a noble known only as a troublemaker from the Lawless City of Absinthe.

But what he had demonstrated today was unimaginable.

Charging fearlessly into a horde of mercenaries and taking them down with sheer martial prowess. His body was as unyielding as steel, his stamina formidable enough to outlast three Amantir-class mercenaries at once. Even though aura hadn’t been used, everyone could feel it—Keter was at least a four-star knight, equivalent to an Amantir-class mercenary.

Burgundy couldn’t understand how someone this strong was able to remain unknown. No matter how obscure Absinthe was, his name should have spread by now. That alone made Keter a dangerous wildcard. And yet, he made no effort to hide it. Instead, he carried himself openly, even going so far as to summon Burgundy for a private talk.

Inside the infirmary’s storage room, Keter shoved Burgundy forcefully against the wall, planting his palm beside him.

“Care to explain who exactly you are?”

“Bold of you. Even if you don’t know my identity, you must have realized I’m no mere Amantir-class, haven’t you?”

Burgundy grabbed Keter’s wrist.

Krrrrk.

Slowly but surely, Keter’s hand began to lift away from the wall. Bit by bit, Burgundy was pushing back with sheer strength, proving that he was Keter’s equal in raw physical power.

However, Keter’s hand soon started advancing forward again.

Burgundy’s eyes widened. If Keter had been using aura to enhance his strength, it would have made sense. But Burgundy could tell Keter wasn’t using aura at all.

Is he... getting stronger as we speak?

Still, Burgundy hadn’t gone all out yet. He exerted his full strength, pushing at one hundred percent.

Keter’s hand wavered, trembling slightly in midair—a sign that their strength was evenly matched. But it didn’t last long. Keter’s hand once again started pressing toward the wall.

“...”

Burgundy’s brow furrowed.

He had already been using his full strength. At this rate, he would have to use aura—yet Keter still wasn’t relying on his. The secret was in Heavenly Strength. At the third level, Keter’s raw physical power surpassed even Burgundy’s, despite the latter being an Orichalcum-class mercenary.

This is humiliating, but I refuse to let him completely overpower me.

Burgundy drew upon his aura. It coursed through his body, reinforcing his muscles and allowing him to push back. Keter’s hand, which had been pressing forward, started slowing down.

And just as Keter was being pushed back...

“...?!”

Keter overpowered Burgundy once more. Keter had reached the fourth level of Heavenly Strength, still not using aura.

Burgundy's cheeks started to quiver as his stamina was wearing out.

I’m using aura, and I’m still being overpowered? I wouldn’t lose in a contest of strength even against an ogre.

He increased the output of his aura. It was a strain even for him, but he felt compelled to see Keter finally use his aura.

Still smiling, Keter clenched his fist. He was now at the fifth level of Heavenly Strength.

Boom!

Keter’s palm crashed through the wall. The entire storage area shook, as did the infirmary itself.

Burgundy scoffed before speaking. A defeated man has no right to stay silent.

“...Burgundy, Deputy Director of Lillian Kingdom Regional Mercenary Headquarters.”

“Why do you only talk when the difference in strength is made clear, huh?”

Pulling his hand from the wall, Keter nonchalantly wiped the dust off on Burgundy’s clothes.

“Orichalcum-class?”

“That’s right.”

“Sending an Orichalcum-class mercenary without even being asked... Your company has great customer service.”

Even high nobles treated Orichalcum-class mercenaries with respect, but Keter, who had just turned eighteen, was naturally speaking to Burgundy without respect. However, Burgundy feels neither offense nor discomfort.

“If you’re uncomfortable, you can leave. But keep the other mercenaries hired as they are. They don’t know my identity. They took your request purely as a job.”

“You’re insane. You got caught, so now you’re just leaving? You think I’ll just let you go?”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“It’s not impossible. I have justification, don’t I?”

“...”

Keter was right; the justification was clear. Burgundy infiltrated Sefira under a false identity, so he deserved death.

“If you want something, just say it. If you’re looking for compensation, I’ll pay.”

“Good. Consider yourself hired for free. For one month, you will lead and control the mercenaries.”

“Hmm...”

Burgundy couldn’t quite grasp Keter’s intentions. On the surface, it seemed like a reasonable proposal, but...

“You’re saying I can freely look around Sefira? The world will find out that Sefira has risen from its slumber.”

“It’s not like you observing us is going to do anything. If I wanted to keep Sefira hidden, I wouldn’t have called mercenaries in the first place. Go ahead, take a good look around.”

“Hah, are you saying this was intentional? Why? Why go out of your way to reveal Sefira’s strength?”

“Because I decided to.”

“...!”

Burgundy would have scoffed if anyone else had said such words, thinking that they had no right to say that. But strangely, no such thought crossed his mind. Though he had only met Keter today for barely an hour, Keter was a man who had the right to say that.

“...I underestimated Sefira. I’ll pay the price for that. As you said, I’ll command the mercenaries for free for a month. But in exchange, let’s pretend my infiltration never happened.”

“No.”

“What?”

“You working for free is just the price of me sparing your life. I’ll charge separately for the infiltration.”

“Do you not understand the concept of compromise? With a single word from me, you’ll make enemies of all mercenaries in the Lillian Kingdom. Sefira will never be able to hire mercenaries again.”

“Compromise? That’s something the strong grant the weak out of pity. But why do you keep ordering me to compromise? Do you think Sefira—or I—am fucking beneath you?”

Keter never made empty threats; he always followed through. He was already holding Burgundy by the throat.

Even though he was right in front, Burgundy was caught off guard. His face went pale. If Keter applies force now, his neck would snap.

Am I really going to die so pathetically?

He had let his guard down. He never truly believed Keter would attack mid-conversation. Never thought he was serious about killing him. That carelessness has put his life on the line. Had he been at his prime, this wouldn’t have happened.

But he had spent five years as deputy director, handling paperwork instead of fighting. Even sparring against Amantir-class mercenaries wasn’t real combat. His instincts as a mercenary had weakened. But regrets, no matter how early, always came too late.

A flash of his life—his relentless climb to Orichalcum-class—ran through his mind.

Why did I become the deputy director again?

In the monotony of work, he had briefly forgotten.

Ah, right. I wanted to reach a higher level.

Most believed Orichalcum was the highest class for mercenaries, but it wasn’t. There was one more step beyond.

The Clear-class.

Mercenaries who learned aura and swordsmanship instinctively rather than through structured training had a natural ceiling: Orichalcum-class. They could become five-star knights, Masters, but never Grandmasters or Prime; it was a fundamental limit.

But Clear-class mercenaries broke that limit. There was a way for those who started from nothing to surpass human boundaries. Clear-class mercenaries did actually exist.

Across all the Mercenary Association headquarters in the empire, there were at least five Clear-class mercenaries. They were living proof that this was possible.

One day, Burgundy, who dreamed of a higher realm, received an offer.

“Work as the deputy director for ten years, and we will show you the path to Clear-class.”

The proposal came directly from the mercenary association headquarters in the empire.

Burgundy accepted, as he wanted to ascend. This was why he agreed to the tedious position of deputy director.

It was all pointless. Damn you, Marun. I’m dying because of you.

His thoughts ended. When he thought that all there was left for him was death...

Slap.

...what followed was not death but a faint sting on his cheek. Instead of breaking his neck, Keter lightly flicked him on the cheek.

“Don’t forget the feeling you just had. Conduct yourself wisely.”

Creak.

Keter walked out of the storage room.

Still kneeling, Burgundy absentmindedly touched his cheek.

“...So this is mercy.”

Burgundy fully understood it—the kindness that the strong bestowed upon the weak.

* * *

Burgundy was experienced.

After concluding his agreement with Keter, he revealed his identity to the mercenaries.

The mercenaries were shocked to learn that the deputy director of the regional headquarters had been among them all along, but upon hearing the reason, they more or less understood. It was an unprecedented request—never before had so many high-class mercenaries been hired at once. The fact that Keter had offered five times the usual commission, along with medical treatment and lodging, made it an irresistible proposition.

“To prevent any possible mishaps, I will be in charge of overseeing all of you as the deputy director. But honestly, I doubt anyone here will step out of line.”

Keter had already demonstrated his strength to the mercenaries through his fists. He had made it clear that he was not like other nobles. He communicated with his fists. If they didn’t like that, they had to fight Keter one-on-one. As he was unlike regular nobles, who relied solely on authority, the mercenaries had no reason to resist cooperation as long as they were treated fairly.

Before long, the treated mercenaries gathered again at the Seventh Training Ground. Keter laid out the details of the mission and schedule.

“You’ll be sparring with the participants of the Sword of the South Tournament. We’ll conduct both one-on-multiple and team battle mock fights, so follow my instructions and form your groups accordingly.”

Keter divided the eighty-two mercenaries into different squads. He formed ten Squad One units, each consisting of three Platinum-class mercenaries; ten Squad Two units, each with two Platinum-class and one Diamond-class mercenaries; two Squad Three units, each with four Platinum-class mercenaries; and two Squad Fours units with two Platinum-class and two Amantir-class mercenaries each.

The remaining mercenaries were kept on standby as reserves. Burgundy took charge of organizing them efficiently.

As Burgundy was forming the squads and organizing everyone in an orderly manner, Keter brought in two individuals—Anis and Taragon.

The moment they saw the assembled mercenaries, their eyes widened. Keter hadn’t told them anything in advance.

“Number Two, Number Three. To prepare for the team matches and multi-opponent battles in the Sword of the South Tournament, you will be sparring with these mercenaries. Treat it like a real battle, but avoid fatal strikes. That goes for you mercenaries as well—give it your all, but do not aim for lethal spots. As long as you don’t deal a fatal injury, I’ll make sure you stay alive.”

Of course, no one would take those words at face value. As such, Keter pulled out an elixir and shook it in front of them to ensure they believed him.

Even so, mercenaries wouldn’t easily wield their blades aggressively against nobles. The same went for Anis and Taragon, but that could be corrected over time.

Keter’s training had no time for mental preparation—it started immediately.

Number Three, already familiar with this, raised his hand before the session began.

“What is it, Number Three?”

“Instructor, is Number One not participating?”

Anis had been wondering the same thing. Among those gathered at the training ground, neither he nor Taragon could see Number One—Luke—who always trained with them.

Keter answered nonchalantly, “Number One has graduated.”