The Regressed SSS-Rank Water Mage Wants To Live a Calm Life-Chapter 40: How Does it Feel to Be Rich?
The hot rays of the afternoon sun had begun to mellow when Maxwell concluded his commissioned request for the day.
He wore a light, almost casual dress, one that definitely wasn’t made for fighting and beast massacre. It was a short-sleeve green shirt that contrasted with the black trousers. And as he walked through the streets, heading home, the sound of his black boots hitting the ground was muffled by the noise of the city.
Maxwell let out a soft exhale, looking skyward as he walked. He had his hands in his pockets and a calm smile on his lips.
’Just one more...’
It had been a full week since the day Maxwell cleared Red Valley with Vin.
After Maxwell took the next day off, learning to cook with Eithan, he took a commissioned request from a noble on the third day. And he completed it.
Word spread from that day that the latest S-rank mercenary, Maxwell, who cleared Red Valley, had begun taking commissions. And every day he went to the guild’s receptionist desk, the commission tab under his name was filled up. After all, apart from Gislow, he was the only active S-rank. One on his way to becoming a legend, as they saw it.
This pricked Maxwell the wrong way. Made him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t regress to the past to build a legend or anything of sorts; he was only in the mercenary business for the money.
And, as he had it, just two days ago, all his rewards were processed. All the corpses and crimson cores were sold in bulk, and the amount of profit Maxwell gained in gold coins, even when shared fifty-fifty with Vin, was no less than 75050gc. The amount was staggering. Even some entire noble houses didn’t have that much.
That amount could buy a small territory. Maybe a barony.
Maxwell chuckled. He had stored all the coins in his pocket dimension, while Vin... the man had to carry heavy bags filled with money to his house. Although Maxwell had escorted Vin home just in case any thieves got a funny idea.
See, with this amount of money, Maxwell was set for a long, long time. He didn’t even have to worry about money anymore.
How funny it was, his first official task after regressing would be his last.
Maxwell never took on any task after that. Same with Vin. Although Vin didn’t even need to anymore, because Gislow, having found out that Vin had miraculously become a 5th-core swordsman that even cleared the valley alongside Maxwell, gave Vin the executive position. The middle-aged man would be receiving a monthly salary now. There was no longer any need to grind every single day.
As for commissions... Well, Maxwell had resigned himself to taking only five commissions last week. The words gained more weight when the rewards from his task came.
After those five commissions were over, he’d immediately leave for the capital.
Maxwell, once more, sighed. He didn’t even have any need for the commissions. And so, it felt like he was doing them for the sake of doing them. And honestly, this feeling of his wasn’t wrong.
"Oh, well," Maxwell shrugged, breaking his stream of thoughts.
His eyes focused ahead, spotting the daylight slowly give way to the evening. The number of passersby in the streets was rapidly decreasing.
A horse neighed nearby. Maxwell gazed in the direction.
A horse-drawn carrier. It was one of the few rolling on the road, probably carrying people on their way home from work.
Maxwell smiled, facing forward. And he breathed in, the stale air of Ludia felt fresh. But...
Maxwell shrugged.
He’d just completed his fourth commission request. And he judged the nobleman who’d commissioned him lucky, because Maxwell chose to work on his request out of the possibly hundreds in his tab.
It was a simple one, really. The man had a farm where his servants worked. And for a while, about two weeks, there’d been some wild, non-violent beasts finding their way from the nearby bushes to his farm, destroying and eating his crops.
They were minor beasts. D-rank Pirantrophs. They resembled bulls, but larger, darker and surprisingly more meek. They did have violent tendencies, but only if they were provoked. To Maxwell, these beasts were less, and such was the reason he’d dressed lightly to eliminate them. Their cores were really small, almost negligible, signifying that it hadn’t been long since they began absorbing mana.
Exactly why Maxwell picked this request. It was simple. And the old nobleman’s pay was quite good. 75gc. But for the now stupidly rich Maxwell, this was a meager sum.
Anyway, just one more task and he’d leave for the capital.
Suddenly, he paused in the middle of the street. Realization hit him squarely.
Guildmaster Gislow had told Maxwell the other day, when they met at the guild entrance, to stop by at his office sometime. He told Maxwell that he wanted to discuss something very important with him.
Maxwell shrugged and continued walking. The old man would have to wait til tomorrow. There was no way Maxwell was going to that guild today. Or even tomorrow.
The place had grown more uncomfortable ever since Maxwell cleared the red valley. And it wasn’t because of the inconducive state of the lobby, or the wary looks of the other mercenaries... it was. No, wait. It was exactly because of the mercenaries.
Those ’wary’ looks of theirs had morphed into looks of reverence, and all the mercenaries began treating Maxwell like he was some kind of local idol or legend. Some days, mercenaries flocked to him the moment he entered the lobby, asking different questions that Maxwell couldn’t even make out.
Most even went as far as to request spars with him, asking him to guide them.
Max gulped. He’d noticed this, even the old noblenan that commissioned him today and his servants had treated him like some kind of highly exalted guest when he was just a mercenary.
