Chapter 150: Act 83 – The Story of Turbulence and Fish (5)
“Did he really say that?”
Although the Gray Wolf Mercenary Group had to abandon their camp and retreat south due to a surprise night raid, caught between the incessant onslaught of the black fire cultists and enemy mercenaries, ‘Maned Wolf’ Makarolo remained calm and composed. He directed the retreat with poise, even managing to reorganize his men during the process and restore their fighting capability. Simply for this trait, he could be regarded as a great general of his time.
In the forest—
As usual, he was with Bud, dressed in a bright red military uniform—this uniform had been a relic of the former king’s royal guard cavalry. Makarolo had previously served as the captain of the royal guard cavalry, and this outfit had been his signature since then, though after being persecuted and leaving the military, it was now devoid of shoulder insignia, tassels, and emblems.
He held his sword—a model specifically designed for the commander’s use of the 35-type cavalry sword, which had been a favorite weapon among 30-40 level swordsmen in past games. While it was not exceptionally powerful, it was a weapon with high cost-effectiveness, offering great attributes among the magical longswords labeled ‘Bronze’ or below. Its widespread availability in the market had made it quite popular.
Yet at that moment, Makarolo did not seem worried by the impending threats. On the contrary, he slightly raised his eyebrows, his expression calm. It was only when he heard Yula’s words that he raised his brows and asked.
Seeing Yula nod, Makarolo turned to Bud and asked, “To the east, it seems that a young man named Brendel is quite confident. Should we follow him?”
“Wait,” Leidi interjected urgently—though this white-haired young man was part of the mercenary group, he had much more freedom than the others. Otherwise, ordinary folks wouldn’t dare interrupt so boldly: “Captain, our opponents are Druids! Shouldn’t we retreat first and seek a more comprehensive plan? Given their flashy approach, they must have come prepared. If we stay here and engage them, isn’t that playing right into their hands?”
His voice was anxious and abrupt, but Makarolo and Bud were used to this young man’s personality, so they paid no mind. Suddenly recalling something, Leidi quickly asked, “Right, Aike is still in town. Is he safe?”
Makarolo glanced at the young man and nodded, “You’re right, Leidi, but no one can guarantee that the Gray Wolf Mercenary Group will be safe upon retreating to Shubli.” He noticed Yula lowering her head, understanding that the girl was worried about her beloved, and sighed, “In fact, the deputy and I anticipated that Conrad might not be so simple. However, since we dare to draw him here, we are prepared. Aike… I don’t know what he has discovered, but it’s fine for him to stay in town. Kabute is there to protect him, so don’t worry.”
Bud remained silent, but the tall swordsman suddenly looked up at the forest—immediately, a blinding flash appeared in that direction, followed by a deafening boom from behind the woods. The faces of those present changed drastically; just as Leidi was about to say something, someone within the mercenaries exclaimed:
“Seventh String, Thunderous Sound!”
“Xi is in trouble!”
Bud unsheathed the great sword from his back with a sharp sound, but he quickly released it, his expression grave as he stared intently in that direction: “The battle is over.”
“Xi…” Yula’s face turned pale.
“I’ll go save her!” Leidi seemed to finally react, drawing his longsword and attempting to rush towards that direction. But Makarolo seized his shoulder, immobilizing the young man.
“Stop.”
“Captain…?”
Makarolo remained silent, for the first time furrowing his brow, his expression serious as he looked towards the forest. In a short moment, shadowy figures began to appear within the woods. A couple of distant cries erupted, resembling the wails of humans or perhaps other beasts—mercenaries at the forest’s edge quickly gasped and began to retreat.
Because to the south, southwest, hordes of black fire cultists suddenly emerged, their heavy chains clanking against the ground and brushing through the underbrush, creating an eerily quiet sound in the tranquil woods.
The northern front was merely a feint; the enemy lay in ambush to the south—
This clear thought crossed everyone’s mind, but unfortunately, their response seemed a bit late. The two squads, Xi and Loluole, had evidently already encountered failure, yet these mercenaries had no time to mourn their fallen companions, as they now found themselves in the same perilous situation. They were all experienced warriors, and upon a quick glance, it was clear that their enemies numbered at least three times more than their own.
Leidi gulped nervously; though he was not afraid of death, he still felt suffocated facing such a situation.
Meanwhile, Yula, though blind, understood the danger of their present predicament.
“Conrad.”
Bud spoke up, his voice deep and powerful.
“Oh?” A flippant voice immediately responded from the forest, sounding like a young man: “Mr. Bud, you know me, but should I call you Cross-Hand Bud, or refer to you as Duke Lantonrand or the Grand Duke of Luun’s personal guard captain?”
This revelation shocked the members of the Gray Wolf Mercenary Group, who could not help but turn to their deputy with astonished expressions. Though they did not truly believe the words of the enemy, human curiosity is hard to suppress. Yet Bud and Makarolo remained unperturbed; the latter stretched out a hand to stop Bud while also interjecting, “I didn’t expect the ‘Playing Cards’ Mercenary Group to be mingling with the infamous Druids. It won’t sound good if word gets out?”
The forest fell silent at once.
Many knew of the black fire cultists, yet few were aware of the connection between them and the Druids. The young man named Conrad clearly did not anticipate Makarolo knowing this in detail. He paused for a moment before mockingly continuing, “As expected of the past cunning fox, you know quite a bit.”
Indeed.
Makarolo frowned; he was confirming Brendel’s words. However, he was not worried that it would affect morale. Mercenaries were different from most regular soldiers; they were a group of risk-takers, generally valuing life and death less than ordinary people. Thus, even though skilled mercenaries often lacked the individual strength, equipment, and discipline compared to regular troops, they remained a formidable force.
“Well then, Mr. Makarolo,” Conrad said cheerfully, “Actually, I came specifically to confirm whether the sole heir of the Grand Duke of Luun is currently with you.”
The members of the Gray Wolf Mercenary Group were stunned again as they couldn’t help but glance at their captain—what was it again with a duke? In their eyes, that was someone unattainable.
Makarolo sneered, “What a joke; let’s not talk about how I don’t even understand what you’re saying. Even if I did know, do you think I have any obligation to answer your questions as opposing sides?”
He couldn’t help but mock.
But the young man in the forest shook his head: “That’s not the point. Can you bear to watch so many of your old subordinates, who have followed you for over ten years, die here?” He quickly nodded, “But of course, compared to your original identity, they wouldn’t count for much. It’s only natural to discard these cannon fodder for your mission.”
Bud grunted.
“Alright, Conrad. We’re all mercenaries here; do you really think such provoking words can affect us?” Makarolo shook his head, “You might as well show what you can do. In our profession, the worst possible outcome is just death; it’s hardly anything.”
Makarolo’s words sparked a series of low chuckles among the mercenaries, for they had long since come to terms with life and death. Seeing someone like Conrad, who hesitated to talk for so long before war, was, in their opinion, quite ridiculous. Mercenaries have their own code of conduct, and their loyalty to a group differs fundamentally from that of regular soldiers, so they found the opponent’s attempts at sowing discord amusing.
As if to represent their thoughts, the mercenaries drew their swords, readying for battle, and the forest echoed with the sound of clashing metal.
…
On the other side, in the dark woods where the starlight was obscured.
“Damn old man,” the young man named Conrad cursed, his face grim. He glanced at the red-haired girl lying injured at his feet, unable to suppress a cold snort of disdain: “Makarolo, that old fox, is indeed not easy to deal with. Too bad our target isn’t him; otherwise, I wouldn’t bother talking so much nonsense with this royalist hardliner.”
“Honestly, it would be better to just charge in and kill them, knowing full well the enemy won’t spill the beans.” A man cloaked entirely in black murmured, his voice deep. When he raised his hand, two red edges could be seen at the cuffs. If Brendel were to see this characteristic, he would likely turn and run—this was a lower-ranking priest of the black fire cult, a significant step above the high-ranking cultists.
“Originally, we could. But the Gray Wolf Mercenary Group still has two teams whose whereabouts are unknown; we cannot afford to be careless. This Makarolo guy is famous for his cunning.” The youth said with a grim expression, tapping against the tree trunk beside him, “He left a team in Shubli, along with that young man named Aike, making the act seem genuine, but I believe it’s meant to distract us.”
“False plays can sometimes end up being the real deal.” The black fire cultist responded.
“Rest assured, for safety’s sake I’ve left behind a mid-level golden swordsman. Though Kabute has concealed his abilities, his true level is not that impressive.”
“Then what are you worried about, Messenger?”
Conrad sneered derisively, squatting down and grabbing the girl’s light red hair, pulling her head up. Blood instantly flowed from the girl’s pale forehead down her cheek, and Xi winced softly in pain, half-closing her eyes that were crusted with blood, trying to see who was in front of her—but as the young man exerted force, she curled her entire body in agony.
“Ugh—”
The young man grinned maliciously: “Of course, I’m referring to another team of those missing mercenaries, though that team consisted of twelve mercenaries, a young man claiming to be a merchant, and two women, all of whom were said to have joined the Gray Wolf Mercenary Group mid-way. But such a degree of lies, how could I believe it? Makarolo must have made arrangements, but if I can’t pry the truth from him, he can’t guarantee every member of his mercenary team will be as tough as he is.”
“Is that so,” he looked at the barely conscious girl and asked, “Young lady.”
At that moment, Xi seemed to finally understand her situation; she gritted her teeth and turned her head away. (To be continued. To know what happens next, please log in for more chapters and support the author for legal reading!)
