After the award ceremony ended, what remained in Iden's hand was a single document.
Thick parchment, a crest intricately engraved on the edge, and the Official Wintel Recommendation Letter made with a seal.
This single document wasn't a Genie's magic lamp, but within the Northern Territory, there would be no more turning away at the door.
The fact that he received a plaque of appreciation from the ruler alone was practically the same as obtaining a part of the North.
Iden carefully folded the recommendation letter and put it inside his coat.
That night, the party was held at a banquet hall prepared by the Wintel family solely for the Blue Wolf Corps.
The ceiling was high, and a crystal chandelier scattered soft light.
Marble floors, silver tableware, and a neatly set long table.
To anyone's eyes, it was a space for nobles, but just for today, it was a seat solely for one mercenary corps.
And into that space, the Blue Wolf Corps entered.
Some stopped at the splendor they were seeing for the first time, and some cleared their throats and adjusted their clothes due to pointless pressure.
The results of entering the banquet hall were varied.
Brock was wearing a tailcoat that didn't fit his body. Because the shoulders were tight and the buttons were taut, he made an uncomfortable expression every time he inhaled.
"This... is much more suffocating than heavy armor."
Dantel was the exact opposite.
He wore an excessively flashy coat with gold buttons hanging all over, looking like someone who had stepped onto a theater stage.
He spread his arms and laughed.
"How is it? Today, I am Duke Dantel."
Celina was dressed most plainly.
It was a simple red dress with lightly rolled-up hair, but the solid physique of a mercenary was not hidden.
She looked around and shrugged her shoulders.
"Clothes like this aren't meant to be worn for long."
Of course, the corners of everyone's mouths were hung on their cheekbones despite the grumbling.
Besides that, there were those wearing ties inside out, those who entered the banquet hall with decorative swords on their waists, and even those trying to pick up glasses without taking off their gloves.
The Blue Wolf Corps didn't fit this space one and all, but no one made an issue of it.
Because today's banquet existed for them.
At that moment, Iden appeared.
As soon as the door opened, cheers burst out.
"Iden!"
"Here he is!"
"The protagonist has arrived!"
Applause and laughter filled the banquet hall. The number one contributor to capturing the Barbarian Chief alive; no one denied that fact. Dantel approached holding a glass.
"Congratulations. Really."
He spoke with a sincere face.
"Frankly speaking, if we had dragged back a corpse, we wouldn't have received even half of the current reward."
Brock clinked glasses.
"No, if Iden had lost the duel with the Chieftain in the first place, we would have become corpses."
Celina nodded briefly.
"I agree."
Iden laughed awkwardly.
Such hospitality was not yet familiar.
But he couldn't hide the fact that he felt good.
The first opportunity was definitely in his hands.
Renting out a noble's banquet hall entirely, mercenaries in ridiculous outfits were laughing and chatting.
And in the middle of it, Iden realized.
That now, he was no longer an existence standing on the periphery.
No, that he was becoming a Northerner.
The banquet hall didn't last long.
The neat tables soon lost the meaning of seating arrangements, and meat and bread crumbs were scattered haphazardly on the silver tableware.
Someone pulled up a chair and sat with their feet up, and someone pointed at the chandelier and made a useless bet on how much it would cost.
Laughter rang through the ceiling, and the sound of clinking glasses was as loud as a neighborhood tavern.
"Hey, this alcohol... does it actually taste expensive?"
"Don't know, but it sure is strong!"
"Cheeky nobles, enjoying such good-tasting alcohol only among themselves!"
Brock's face was already flushed red, and Dantel shouted impromptu toasts several times in the middle of the banquet hall.
Celina shook her head pathetically watching that sight, but eventually burst into laughter.
The high-class banquet hall was completely occupied.
Today, this place was not a noble's space, but the Blue Wolf Corps' drinking party.
Iden was in the middle of that commotion.
It was awkward to be handed glasses, patted on the back, and hear laughter-mixed curses and congratulations simultaneously, but he didn't dislike it.
No, he had to admit that it was quite enjoyable.
Then, around the time the atmosphere was sufficiently ripe.
The Captain stood up on his chair.
He raised his glass without a word.
Just with that appearance, the commotion in the banquet hall gradually subsided. Laughter decreased, and the sound of dragging chairs stopped.
One by one, the members stopped what they were doing and raised their glasses.
The Captain looked at Iden.
A short silence.
"For Iden's future!"
The lead chant was simple and unadorned.
However, the meaning contained in that one phrase was heavy.
Glasses clashed simultaneously, making a loud sound.
"For!"
Alcohol went down. The Captain put down his glass, caught his breath, and opened his mouth again.
The atmosphere changed subtly.
"Official Wintel Recommendation Letter."
Since the Captain was also quite drunk just for today, he didn't seem to care about the coherence of his words.
"That also means you no longer need to roll around with us."
Low breaths leaked out from among the members.
No one argued or questioned the Captain's words.
A mercenary corps was that kind of place.
A place that neither blocks those who come nor holds those who go.
Furthermore, Captain Felbicion had turned the credit for leading the mission successfully to Iden.
More than ten years leading the mercenary corps.
It was visible in the eyes of him, a veteran among veterans.
Iden, who grew dazzlingly over 2 years.
That the place where that talent and effort were trying to climb was not as an elite soldier of a mere mercenary corps.
That's why Felbicion opened a new path for Iden.
He had expected such a day to come someday, and the current toast was his own way of farewell.
Even if a bit cold, even if somewhat crude.
Without leaving a handful of regret, it was like sending his cub, who was playing in a seemingly small pond, to a wide lake.
In Felbicion's voice, who was prepared, there was rather only joy.
"Where will you go."
Captain Felbicion's final question fell.
Iden hesitated for a moment.
Strength entered the hand holding the glass.
He had imagined this moment in advance, but it wasn't easy to actually say it.
After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"I will go to the west of the Northern Territory."
West of the Northern Territory.
At Iden's declaration that he would abandon the comfort in the capital and go to the shunned area bordering the national border, the banquet hall becomes quiet.
And in that silence, Iden's new path was opening quietly.
Iden, with a slightly flushed face, came out of the banquet hall.
The air became much calmer and cooler.
Laughter and singing still leaked out from afar. Iden leaned against the railing for a moment, catching his breath and cooling his intoxication.
He knew it would be a farewell party, but he didn't know it would be this fast.
"Here you were."
It was then.
Along with the sound of clinking glasses, Celina approached.
Two wine glasses held in one hand twinkled softly receiving the light of the outdoor lamp.
The undisturbed mercenary movements were still there, but today's outfit was different.
Under the dress revealing the shoulder line, a firm line connected naturally, and even the scars likely from the battlefield drew the eye strangely.
Rough like a mercenary, but at the same time, she exuded a beauty that seemed unreachable.
"Want a drink?"
She held out a glass.
As Iden accepted the glass, she also leaned against the railing and let out a small sigh.
"It's a shame."
Iden had been with Celina since joining.
Although she was 3 years older, she was closer to a friend than an older sister, and she was someone he had built quite a strong camaraderie with while doing many missions together.
But those who leave are silent.
As he nodded in silence, Celina added with a laugh.
"Maybe... today might be the last?"
The end of her sentence flowed lightly, but her gaze lingered long. As if intoxicated, she used the wind that blew once as an excuse to come one step closer.
"The night wind is chilly."
Shoulders brushed.
It was an intentional distance.
"The party is a mess."
Celina spoke low.
Her voice contained an allure he hadn't heard until now.
"Not here, shall we have one more drink somewhere else?"
The temptation wasn't blatant.
So it was clearer.
That it was a good night for the reason this world was created to begin.
But Iden was silent for a moment.
Looking down at the glass, he rolled a calculator in his head.
Tomorrow's schedule, the validity of the recommendation letter, the road leading to the west, and even what the current single step could delay.
In his head were solely plans for the second opportunity.
Iden emptied the glass and spoke quietly.
"It's okay. I intend to go to the accommodation quietly soon."
Celina's eyebrows rose slightly.
It looked like she hadn't had high expectations.
The boy named Iden she saw 2 years ago was a boy sprinting solely towards one goal, and the eyes of him who had become a man were also not different from then.
Celina liked those eyes.
The honest eyes of a man running solely towards the front without leaking to a side path.
Strong eyes unshaken by any temptation or obstacle.
Celina smirked.
"I knew you'd say that."
Iden didn't turn his gaze.
A moment of silence.
After refreshingly emptying the wine in the glass, Celina shook the wine glass on the ground like a beer mug.
It was a truly her-like and mercenary-like appearance.
"If we meet later, don't pretend not to know me. Or else I won't let it slide."
"Don't worry. That won't happen."
Celina, who stroked Iden's shoulder once, turned back first, and Iden remained at the railing.
The night wind brushed again.
Iden did not know that the reason for this worldview's existence, which visited after 2 years, had flown away riding that night wind.
Because to him, who was now going to film a war movie, it was just an ordinary and common night wind he would have experienced tens of thousands of times.
Whoosh—
"...Damn, it's a bit cold."
Iden, fastening his clothes, left the glass on the railing and began to step towards the accommodation.
He had to sleep even a little.
Because there was a mountain of things to pack and do starting from the early dawn when the sun rises.
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