Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“Count Daggleton is preparing to invade us again, only this time he’ll be coming with the Silver Lion Mercenaries. As you all probably know, we don’t stand a chance with the men we have left after the last battle. So, if we were to fight them, we are going to have to bring out every last man we have in the territory,” Count Mollando said, showing his intention to retaliate against his counterpart.

“Are you considering going to another war, my lord?”

“Only if you think we stand a chance.”

A heavy silence fell in the room.

“Are the Silver Lions that strong? That’s a disgustingly cool name, though,” Urich said as he rested his chin on his fist. The other lieges frowned at his words.

“How could you not know of the Silver Lion Mercenaries? You’re a mercenary yourself.”

“Hey, what’s it to you? Who cares if I don’t know them? Have any of you even seen them yourselves? Aren’t you all just shaking at the stories you heard of them?”

Urich’s retort made Bachman flinch.

“Urich, the Silver Lions are strong. Very strong. No reputation in the mercenary world is made in vain.”

“Is that so? Count, are you going to fight, or not?” Urich looked at Mollando as he picked his ear.

“If we decide to go to another war, will you and your mercenaries join us once more?” Mollando asked the representative figures of Urich’s mercenaries. Their squad ran under democracy. The group acted on the opinion of the majority. The four influential figures were Urich, Bachman, Donovan, and Sven. The vote of the other mercenaries often, if not always, followed the vote of these four. If they were unanimous in a decision, the rest of the squad followed.

“I’m in. The Field awaits me,” Sven said quietly. The other mercenaries looked at him as if they already knew his vote before he even said so.

“I will follow Urich’s decision,” Bachman said.

“The Silver Lions are just as strong as a regular military. Going to war with them would be a terrible idea.” Donovan was an ex-military man. He was well aware of what a well-structured group of soldiers were capable of. Group battles were their specialty. Even though their individual combat abilities were similar to that of a gladiator, the advantage was theirs, especially the bigger the battle was.

“Haha, are you scared, Donovan? Are you going to be the only one who backs out?” Urich mocked him, and Donovan glared at him.

“If you don’t know when to quit, you’ll find yourself dead before you know it, you barbarian,” Donovan retorted as he glanced at both Sven and Urich.

‘Thick-skulled barbarian bastards.’

Donovan spent a portion of his military years as a barbarian exterminator. He knew that barbarians were warriors who refused to surrender even when their defeat was certain. They were warriors who fought on in the face of predestined death.

‘Horrible bastards.’

Even though he had joined forces with them for now, it was near impossible to erase his hatred toward barbarians that was embedded deep inside of him.

‘I-isn’t this just a group of scrubs?’

The other lieges looked at the mercenaries with concern. There would be no point in hiring them if they couldn’t come to a unanimous decision.

“Donovan, we signed the contract that states that we must follow the majority. That was our agreement from the beginning,” Bachman said, which almost sounded like a threat.

“I know, I know. You don’t have to nitpick our agreement.”

The mercenaries sorted out a list of agreements from the beginning of their mercenary careers, and while they didn’t always like each other, they believed that each and every man had the integrity to honor the agreements and their contracts.

“Then we’re in,” Urich said as he represented his squad.

“I see,” Mollando replied with visible relief on his face. The rest of the lieges in the room were also gradually leaning toward being in favor of retaliation.

“Let’s go on the defensive. We can hold them off if we set up a defensive line on the farmland. That should help us overcome the number difference,” the captain of the guards suggested. He was the one leading the twenty standing soldiers, who were the main force of Mollando’s territory.

“Bring in every single man who can hold a weapon. They’ll be compensated with my own treasury.”

Count Mollando had already made up his mind. He intended to protect this farmland, even if it meant spending all of the wealth that his family had accumulated over several generations.

Crash!

“I’m telling you that there is a spot, you son of a bitch,” Urich said to the captain as he grabbed him by his collar. The captain hiccupped and asked again, this time, with more caution.

“T-then, where is the spot?”

“The manure field.”

Urich brought the men to a place not too far away from the farmland.

“H-hmm, the s-smell is...” Mollando said as he plugged his nose.

“This is where the compost is dumped...”

The compost that hadn’t completely decomposed reeked of a terrible smell. It was a place where farmers collected and piled up all sorts of filth.

Pluck.

Urich took a step into the pile of filth. The other men stared in horror.

“It’s a bit shallow, but it’ll keep us hidden if we cover our backs with some mud and get down on our stomachs. The location is perfect for ambushing Daggleton and capturing him alive,” Urich said as he got on the ground himself to demonstrate the hiding position. The ones who were more squeamish than others gagged.

“He does have a point, Count Mollando. This spot indeed is a good hiding spot...”

“This will definitely do the trick, but...” Mollando murmured.

“Fine. Raise your hand if you would like to ambush with me. I’m sure the Count will promise you extra pay,” Urich asked the men as he stepped out of the waste pile. He was already drenched in the awful smell.

No one wanted to volunteer to immerse themselves in a pile of waste; even the mercenaries, who had seen plenty of unspeakable things in their gladiator lives.

“If you go in there, you’re definitely coming out with a skin disease,” Bachman said as he stepped back with a disgusted look.

“I’ll come with you,” Sven stepped forward, although he did not look too pleasant.

Sven’s words were followed by an uncomfortable silence.

“I want at least five—seven or eight would be ideal.”

Urich stared at the gladiators. Since the ambush was the crucial point to winning this battle, he did not want to leave this job to the conscripts.

“Fuck it, I’ll do it. Rallo, Bajorn, Giggs, get your asses up here, you sons of bitches!” Donovan yelled at his entourages.

“Shit, why me? I really don’t want to do this,” the ones who had their name called complained.

“They said we’re getting paid extra, so shut your mouth.”

“There’s some things you don’t do even if it’s for more money, fuck.”

It was a job that had to be done. The mercenaries that were named by Donovan cursed and complained, but they didn’t reject the order. Doing so would have put a dent in their reputation, especially since Urich and Sven volunteered themselves.

“I have to go in there? God dammit, who would have thought I’d be rolling in a pile of shit.”

“Your life is basically a pile of shit already, kek.”

Count Mollando’s army continued to prepare for a solid defensive war. They raised a dense fence around their perimeter and constructed watch towers for archers to position themselves on.

Two more days passed, and the scout returned from his distant patrol.

“Daggleton’s army is coming.”

After receiving the report, Mollando waved his hand with a bitter smile.

“Our defense begins now.”

Count Mollando’s army was already suppressed by the fame of their enemy even before their battle began. There were no pompous shouts—only a sense of unease.