Translator: Nox
Death Can’t Sleep
Chapter 25
Once the tents were properly packed and secured, she got onto her horse.
Several knights had suffered light injuries during the orc hunt the night before, so she insisted they use her carriage. They initially refused, saying it was inappropriate to ride in their lady’s carriage, but after seeing how spacious it was and how comfortable the satin seats looked, they reluctantly agreed.
That left her riding beside Sir Carlz.
“So in Madame’s opinion, His Highness is a dog.”
“I said a puppy.”
“That’s basically the same thing.”
She frowned at Carlz, a bit uneasy that he might have overheard something he shouldn’t have.
Her cheeks flushed, and she turned her gaze toward the dull scenery, pretending it was fascinating. She had told him about her conversation from that morning, but saying it out loud now made her feel embarrassed.
Carlz turned to Raoul with a serious tone.
“What titles does our great master, the Grand Duke, go by?”
“The Nightmare of the Continent, the Calamity of the Eastern Kingdom, the Black-Scaled Dragon, Walking Death…”
“And yet, to our madame, he’s a dog.”
“A puppy!”
She protested again, but neither of them paid attention.
Raoul stroked his chin dramatically.
“What an excellent expression. You’ve condensed all of his titles into a single word.”
Leonard coughed, trying to suppress his laughter.
Raoul continued,
“And it’s even more meaningful since it came from his wife. Aren’t most husbands rather insufferable?”
At that point, Carlz finally burst out laughing. The surrounding knights shook with quiet laughter as well.
She glared at them, her face burning red.
Honestly… she could never win against these people.
After some lighthearted chatter, they arrived at the next village.
Carlz guided his horse closer to hers and spoke apologetically.
“My apologies for teasing you, Madame. Your words were just… quite surprising.”
She narrowed her eyes at the red-haired knight. He complained that she was “starting to resemble His Highness,” then led the horses into the stable.
How could he joke about Victor in his current condition?
Shaking her head, she looked around the village.
It was lively.
The marketplace was large, and there were several inns—it seemed to be a well-established place.
They planned to rest early that day. She was still worn out from yesterday, and after camping for two consecutive nights, she longed dearly for a proper bed.
Diederick rented the cleanest inn available and herded the knights inside like a shepherd guiding sheep.
While they argued over who would bathe first, she quietly slipped out with her sword.
They would notice soon enough, but her anxiety wouldn’t allow her to sit still.
As expected, the cheapest tavern in the village had a rough atmosphere.
The hall was dim, filled with a stale odor, and packed with rugged-looking individuals. The moment she stepped in, all eyes turned toward her.
Should I have worn a cloak?
Keeping a cold expression, she surveyed the room.
In one corner sat two elderly figures drinking, while nearby, foreign travelers exhaled cigarette smoke. At the large central table, low-ranking soldiers were already drunk.
Her attention returned to the two older individuals near the entrance—a broad man with an axe and a tall woman clad in leather armor.
She approached them.
“I’ll buy you both a drink.”
They looked at her suspiciously.
She placed two gold coins on the table and ordered ale.
The woman smiled and tapped the coins.
“You know how to approach mercenaries. I thought you were just some wealthy lady. Business partner?”
“I used to be. I retired after getting married.”
She took a seat.
The man chuckled.
“So what brings you here?”
Instead of answering, she pulled out a worn leather pouch.
They eyed it with interest.
She explained briefly.
“Nightmare orc glands.”
Their expressions immediately hardened. They exchanged glances, then looked at her again.
“You hunted it yourself?”
She nodded.
Strictly speaking, she hadn’t killed it, but she had removed the glands after Victor defeated it. It wasn’t entirely a lie.
The man examined the pouch carefully.
“She’s right. Fresh, too. How’d you manage that?”
“I killed it on the plains last night.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
The woman narrowed her eyes.
“I’ve seen orcs recently too. They belong in the mountains—why would one come all the way down here?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know.”
Silence fell briefly.
She watched them anxiously.
Mercenaries understood monsters better than anyone. Large mercenary groups roamed the continent to prevent outbreaks, learning the habits of beasts firsthand.
There was a saying—ask a merchant about good places to live, and a mercenary about the dangerous ones.
After some conversation, they finally spoke openly.
“…There have been rumors lately. Monsters behaving oddly. Their numbers are increasing too.”
“We encountered several along the way.”
“They say the border defenses have weakened, but we don’t know the details.”
The woman added,
“Mercenary corps are already investigating.”
She nodded.
If mercenary units were involved, the matter would be thoroughly examined.
She pushed the pouch toward them.
“Thank you. You can take it.”
“That’s too much.”
“I don’t need the money.”
“What?”
The woman laughed and raised her drink in a toast.
She clinked glasses with them and drank.
“What the hell—if I could hunt an orc, I’d be rich. You quit because you married some bastard?”
“It’s just… well…”
She hid her face behind her cup.
She couldn’t exactly say her husband was one of the Empire’s most renowned knights and a powerful lord.
Seeing her blush, the man shook his head.
“Another one who left the mercenary life for love. The mercenary king would sigh at this.”
“Can you even retire for good? Or was the money not enough?”
They joked and laughed, while she responded absentmindedly, sipping her ale.
Their carefree tone reminded her of home.
She closed her eyes and swallowed the bitter drink.
She needed to finish it and return to the inn.
Then—
“Marion!”
A familiar voice cut through the noise.
She turned instinctively.
Victor stood there, bent slightly forward, catching his breath.
Her eyes widened.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
He walked over.
His hair was freshly washed, his bangs falling over his forehead, making him look much younger than usual.
He frowned, scanning the surroundings.
“I panicked when you disappeared. The innkeeper said you might be here. What’s going on?”
“There’s something I needed to ask…”
Then she suddenly remembered the mercenaries in front of her.
They were staring at her strangely.
“Is that your husband?”
She nodded awkwardly.
They began evaluating him.
“…A face like that…”
“Worth giving up a few bags of gold.”
“Where did you find someone like him? You haven’t even traveled the whole continent.”
She quickly stood up, blushing.
Victor muttered under his breath,
“What the hell?”
“Be careful, sister. If his money runs out, you should run too.”
“And if your beauty fades, same applies!”
“Let’s go, Victor!”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him away in a hurry.
The drunken mercenaries burst into loud laughter.
Victor narrowed his eyes, clearly wanting to say something, but she dragged him out regardless.
The woman called after them,
“Hey! We only work for what we’re paid. You paid too much, so I’ll tell you when the investigation’s done!”
She glanced back.
The woman grinned.
“Your man’s strong and well-built. Where do I find one like that?”
After a brief pause, she answered,
“The Morte estate!”
