CH 130

Shuuack!

Wolfslaughter cut through the air and flew forward as if it wanted to mutilate everything in its path. Pythamoras came to see death for the first time in his life.

Fwoosh!

However, Wolfslaughter came to a stop right under his nose.

“...!”

Pythamoras stared at the deadly blade with his mouth agape.

“I won,” Eugene stated.

“...” Pythamoras flinched, then stared into Eugene’s red eyes before breathing a long sigh. “I see. You won. I lost.” The druid declared his defeat.

Kwwooooooo!!

The faces of the mercenaries turned pale, and the beowulf warriors roared with joy. Eugene turned to the mercenaries.

“Surrender? Or will you fight?” he asked.

The mercenaries looked alternatingly at Eugene and the beowulf warriors before simultaneously throwing away their weapons.

“S-surrender! We surrender!”

“Sir! Please have mercy!” the mercenaries shouted.

“Collect the weapons. Tie them all up. The supply depot. Take care of it,” Eugene said.

“Got it,” the beowulfs answered. They had been anxious to beat and kill the mercenaries, so they felt disappointed at Eugene’s orders. However, they faithfully followed the instructions of their employer. Baron Riwad’s soldiers attempted to fight back, but eventually, the supply corps and the supply depot raised the white flag in less than thirty minutes.

In the first place, it was impossible for regular soldiers to face the full force of heavily armed beowulf warriors without the assistance of magic.

“I trust that you will keep your promise,” Eugene said. Pythamoras was standing with a grim expression.

The druid responded, “I will. But what is it that you want from me?”

“The same thing you wanted from me. Work by my side for three years,” Eugene replied.

“...?!” Pythamoras’s eyes filled with astonishment.

He asked. “By your side? Not under you, but by your side?”

“As far as I know, there is no one in Brantia who can force druids to serve under them,” Eugene responded.

“Huh! That is true, but aren’t you from the continent? Moreover, you are a high-ranking noble of the Dark Clan,” Pythamoras stated.

“I have a lot of work to do in Brantia,” Eugene responded.

“Hmm.” Pythamoras examined Eugene with calm eyes for a moment before nodding.

“You want to unify Brantia. Are you after the throne?” Pythamoras asked.

The druid was quite perceptive, as expected of a wise sage. Eugene felt rather impressed that Pythamoras managed to almost see through his purpose in an instant. As such, he responded, “Well, let’s say it’s something similar. Anyway, will you keep your promise?”

“I like to be respected, and the best way to continue garnering the people’s respect is to always keep my word,” Pythamoras replied. He smacked his lips together regrettably, then continued solemnly. “I swear before the spirits of mana who bend the heavens and the seas, mountains and fields, rivers and lakes. I, Pythamoras of Mount Robtimo, will stay by your side, Jan Eugene, for the next three years and support you with my wisdom and ability.”

“Thank you.” Eugene nodded. He felt even better than when he acquired Romari. Although both of them were wizards, druids held a unique position in Brantia. To gain Pythamoras’s support was incomparable to simply hiring a wizard. Druids were beings that could bring more than just powerful magic and spells to the table.

“S-sir Eugene, and Master Pythamoras. What will happen to us?” the leader of the depot merchants asked with an awkward smile. He had surrendered long before the soldiers and mercenaries.

Eugene turned his cold eyes toward the merchant. Then, he turned toward Pythamoras and asked, “I would like to borrow your wisdom. What should I do?”

Eugene already had a plan in mind, but he asked anyway. Eugene knew that he would save Pythamoras face and pride if he asked for advice as soon as they became allies.

“Hooh! To think you would trust me like this. I am thankful.” Pythamoras smiled satisfactorily as if he had understood Eugene’s unspoken intentions. He turned toward the merchant and spoke, “What are the terms and conditions of your contract with Lord Riwad?”

“Quite regular. W-would you like to see the contract?” the merchant responded.

“Sure.”

Pythamoras closely scrutinized the contract before turning toward Eugene and speaking in the language of the Caylor Kingdom, “There are two options here. First, you could exercise your right as the victor to seize all the goods from the depot. In addition, you could take all the personnel as prisoners and either release them for a ransom or enslave them. I’m not sure about the mercenaries and the workers, but the leader of the depot will fetch you a good price.”

“Hmm. And what about the other option?” Eugene asked. The first option was what Eugene had originally planned to do.

Pythamoras continued. “Take the goods as trophies but sign a new contract with the mercenaries and the depot before releasing them.”

“And how would that benefit me?” Eugene asked.

“They will be moved by your mercy. Although they are driven by money, they know when to be grateful. After experiencing your incredible skills and boundless mercy, they will become more than simple mercenaries. They will move as your army.” Pythamoras explained.

“...!”

Eugene showed surprise, and Pythamoras continued with a smile. “In the past and even now, all those who took the throne had an army harmonized by money and loyalty. This is my advice.”

Eugene was genuinely impressed. In addition, he finally understood why the powerful figures of Brantia didn’t want to turn against the druids.

Eugene asked, “I’m curious. Do the self-proclaimed kings of Brantia all have a druid like yourself by their sides?”

“Ehem! Of course not. The druids will accept requests as long as we get what we want, but we do not belong to anyone. Even if you unite this land, those who follow the spirits of mana are the people of this land, not your people,” Pythamoras responded.

Druids belonged to Brantia, but not to any particular family or royalty. Pythamoras’s explanation surprised Eugene, but at the same time, it also allowed him to better understand the identity of the druids.

“Merchant,” Eugene spoke.

“Yes, yes. Please speak, sir.” the merchant leader responded politely. He didn’t know what the two figures had talked about, but judging from Pythamoras’s smile, perhaps things weren’t so bad.

“All the goods. I will take them. Victor’s rights. Do you have any complaints?” Eugene asked.

“None.” the merchant leader responded almost immediately. He had always been prepared for such a situation as the leader of a military depot.

“And. I want to sign a new contract with you.” Eugene continued.

“What?”

“All of the people. Unconditional release. But sign a contract with me,” Eugene said.

“B-by contract, what could you mean…?” the merchant asked.

“Same thing as Baron Riwad. However, we need lots of meat,” Eugene stated.

“...?!”

The merchant was surprised, but they also realized the reason behind Eugene’s peculiar request. The beowulfs looked very proud after capturing the mercenaries and the soldiers. In addition, it was common knowledge that beowulfs had an extreme preference for meat.

‘Is he planning to stay with the beowulfs all the way until the end? Huh? Then could that mean…?’

The merchant had been rather puzzled at Eugene’s decision to hire the beowulfs since they cost a fortune and other lords only employed them for short durations in emergencies. But he suddenly came to a realization...

‘The throne! He is after the throne of Brantia!’

“I will do my best to support you, Sir Eugene! If you leave it to us, the Odd Company, I will make sure that…” the merchant declared.

Eugene interrupted him. “Enough. Are you going to sign the contract?”

“Naturally,” the merchant said with a bright smile, then searched his bag before taking out a parchment and drafting a contract.

“Hmm. There aren’t any problems. You can go ahead with it,” Pythamoras said after reviewing the contract.

Eugene and the merchant leader stamped their seals on the approved contract, and the merchant, Odd, broke into a wide grin. He may have lost the supplies he had for Baron Riwad’s army, but it was nothing compared to the gains he would make in the future from following Eugene.

“Bring me the mercenary captain,” Eugene told the beowulfs after signing the contract. Soon, the beowulf warriors dragged two mercenary captains forward.

“Sir, if you spare our lives, I will gladly serve you as a faithful slave.”

“I will make sure to get you the ransom, so please…” The two begged while kowtowing.

Eugene interrupted. “Quiet.”

Eugene continued in a solemn voice. “Serve me. Fight for me for a year. I will get rid of the ransom.”

“...!”

The mercenary captains displayed similar reactions to the merchant leader. They immediately knelt down before shouting.

“I will serve you with my life!”

The mercenaries had surrendered themselves, unlike the rich merchants. After all, they saw no possibility of them being enslaved when there were almost a hundred of them. Feeding them alone would be an arduous task, and they knew that they wouldn’t be useful even as a meat shield for fear of betrayal.

Even so, Eugene was making a proposal for them.

‘Material for the king.’

‘I’m certain he will make his name known in all of Brantia.’

The mercenary captains had encountered quite a few nobles and lords over the years since they led 40-50 men each. In other words, they had good pairs of eyes that could distinguish good lords and employers. The man they saw in Eugene was incomparably generous and remarkable compared to other lords, who were usually condescending and arrogant. Of course, this included their former employer, Baron Riwad.

“What!? Dark Lord! So we’re just going to let them go?”

“Our brothers and sisters were beaten quite badly!” The beowulfs complained.

Eugene responded with a cold gaze, “Who were the ones that disobeyed my orders and attacked?”

“Uh…” The beowulfs promptly closed their lips.

“You broke your promise. However, I will keep mine. Regardless, we won,” Eugene said.

“What?” the beowulfs responded with large eyes. Eugene turned and pointed toward the white flag of the supply depot and declared.

“Meat party. I will give it to you.”

Kwuoooooooo!!!

The dog-pigs, or rather, pig-dogs cheered in unison.

“Ehem. As expected of a figure fit to be king. By the way, Sir Eugene, could you spare me some monster materials as well?” Pythamoras asked.

“Consult with my wizard,” Eugene responded.

“Oooh! Truly fit to be a king! A king!” Pythamoras exclaimed. The druid, who wasn’t necessarily without greed, was satisfied.

***

Eugene didn’t immediately hold a meat party. He was still concerned about the pursuit of Baron Riwad’s army. As such, he led the mercenaries and the supply depot to Patos.

There was no need to worry about a pursuit with the presence of beowulfs. They were promised a meat party as soon as they arrived at the castle, and as such, they replaced the workers and pulled the carts as fast as they could. The mercenaries also pushed themselves and reduced their sleeping hours due to the threats and encouragement from their new employer, and eventually, the group successfully reduced the trip from five days to three days.

As such, the distance between Eugene’s group and Baron Riwad’s army widened by a huge margin. Baron Riwad’s troops were completely exhausted from crossing Baylin Forest without resting or sleeping, and they ran out of the emergency supplies which were only meant to last them three days.

“My lord, the mercenaries will desert at this rate before we even see the enemy. We will have to plunder any nearby villages,” one of the knights said.

“Keugh! There’s no helping it,” Baron Riwad responded. He knew very well that he couldn’t feed all the soldiers even with plundering, but he had no other choice. Baron Riwad ordered the knights and mercenaries to storm a nearby village.

The troops had already starved for half a day. They squeezed the final vestiges of their strengths and entered through the wooden fence of a village.

However…

“Sirs! T-there’s no one here!” a mercenary shouted after hurried running back.

“What?” a knight shouted in shock.

The mercenary continued. “I can’t even see a single rat, let alone the residents!”

“There is no grain or livestock either! They must have taken it and escaped already!”

“Dammit!”

Baron Riwad’s knights were greatly flustered, but they understood what was going on. Count Crawlmarine had concentrated all his forces in Patos and had emptied the villages located near Patos to prevent any plundering.

‘At this rate…’

As knights, they knew what to fear the most in a war. A great army? An enraged monster? A skilled enemy general?

No…

The most terrifying thing in a war was to have one’s supplies severed.

‘We might just starve to death before we could even fight.’

And right now, that was exactly the situation they found themselves in.