Chapter 23: Williams Won’t Do, We Must Go to Oak Town

Reed was soaked with the dampness of the forest, yet his spirits were surprisingly high.

He strode into the gloomy hall of the Morgan Family Castle with his deputy in tow.

Carlisle Morgan, the temporary acting lord of Williams Territory, was leisurely savoring a glass of deep red wine.

When he saw the Gray Wolves return so quickly, his brows instantly twisted into a knot.

“Captain Reed.”

Carlisle’s tone carried a cold hiss, like a snake flicking its tongue. “Back so soon?”

“Heh, it seems the task I assigned wasn’t taken very seriously by your people.”

“Or perhaps that forest was too vast—you got dizzy, lost your way, and decided to stroll around before coming back?”

He set down his wine glass, fingers lightly tapping the table, his eyes gleaming with a sinister chill, as though he could devour Reed whole.

Reed sneered inwardly but wore that mercenary’s trademark mix of roughness and forced respect on his face.

“Lord Carlisle, that’s quite the accusation against us Gray Wolves.”

“We’ve been to the very gates of hell and back!”

As he spoke, he drew from his coat a cloth bundle stained with mud and dark brown blotches, and handed it over with both hands.

“The magician Porter you were looking for… and his cavalry squad—we found them!”

Carlisle took the bundle with a trace of suspicion and untied the cord.

Inside lay a silver clasp engraved with the Morgan family crest, half of a staff’s head set with a cracked crystal shard, and a leather magic pouch almost completely soaked in foul blood.

Carlisle’s face changed in an instant.

That pretense of composure vanished entirely.

“Just these? Where are the men?”

“Gone,” Reed spread his hands, his tone filled with lingering fear.

“All gone! That place… tsk, tsk—it’s like a slaughterhouse!”

“The ground was littered with bones gnawed clean, fragments of torn leather armor everywhere.”

“Not even a chunk of flesh left—just these pitiful scraps.”

“But at least it proves they really died there.”

The hall fell into a dead silence.

Carlisle stared into the bundle, the muscles on his face twitching.

He hadn’t expected it—this cavalry scouting team he’d sent out was actually found by these mud-caked mercenaries.

And they had come out of that Mistwood Forest so quickly.

They did have some real skill, after all.

“Tsk…”

Carlisle let out a faint, unreadable sound from his throat, tossed the silver clasp back into the bundle, and muttered, “Useless trash. Couldn’t even handle a few ghouls—what a waste of the family’s resources.”

He waved his hand.

A servant at his side immediately stepped forward, presenting a heavy pouch of coins.

“Take it. Your pay. You’ve handled the matter… adequately.”

Reed accepted the pouch.

Its reassuring weight steadied his heart, and he forced a smile. “Much obliged, my lord! Then… we won’t trouble you further?”

“Wait.”

Carlisle suddenly stopped him just as he turned to leave.

Leaning back against the thick furs draped over his chair, he said, “Captain Reed, during your time in the forest—besides finding Porter’s belongings—did you come across anything else?”

“For instance… some ancient stone structures? Or perhaps, unusual energy fluctuations?”

Reed’s heart skipped a beat.

Damn it, this old fox really did have another agenda!

Could he be looking for some ancient ruins?

The image of Holy Light Town flashed in his mind, but he quickly replied with a smooth grin, “You jest, my lord.”

“That forest has nothing but trees, ghouls, mud, and rot—where would any stone buildings come from?”

“As for energy fluctuations,”

“We rough men can barely tell when a ghoul’s stench and chill hit us—anything else, we can’t sense at all.”

“To make it out alive and bring back what you asked for—that’s a blessing from the heavens!”

“You don’t know, my lord—the ghouls deep in that forest are everywhere!”

“My brothers and I nearly didn’t make it out!”

He deliberately exaggerated the number and danger of the ghouls, even putting on a frightened look.

His deputy lowered his head at the right moment, playing along with a suitably fearful expression.

Carlisle stared at Reed for several seconds, as if trying to catch a hint of deceit in his face.

But in the end, he withdrew his gaze.

“Is that so… seems that place truly is cursed.”

“Fine, you may go.” He waved his hand, sounding a little disinterested.

Reed let out a deep sigh of relief, hurriedly bowed, and led his men out of that oppressive hall.

Only after stepping through the castle’s heavy gates and feeling the cold wind outside did he notice the chill of sweat down his back.

“Boss, about what that man asked at the end…”

The deputy came closer, lowering his voice with a wary glance around.

“Shut it!” Reed snapped quietly.

He scanned the surroundings carefully.

Only after they returned to the inn and regrouped with their own men did he speak again.

“That venomous snake’s got something brewing in his gut—but whatever it is, it’s none of our business!”

“As for that look in his eyes—”

“Obviously, he wants us to keep risking our necks exploring for him, but he’s also afraid we’ll find something valuable and keep it for ourselves!”

“Hmph, these noble lords—more disgusting than a ghoul’s entrails!”

“Forget him. We’ve got more important business now!”

Reed hefted the money pouch, then patted the precious vial of Holy Water hidden close to his chest, feeling a surge of excitement.

“This Holy Water trade—that’s where the real profit is!”

“But we can’t sell it here in Williams!”

“Why not? There’re lots of people here!” a young mercenary asked, puzzled. “This place is one of the more prosperous parts of the barony.”

“Too many eyes and ears!” Reed glared at him.

“That snake Carlisle has a nose sharper than a hound’s!”

“If we start selling Holy Water right after leaving his castle, and even claim it comes from some angel-blessed town in the Mistwood—”

“You think he won’t notice something’s off?”

“The moment he catches a whiff, this business won’t be ours anymore!”

“Best case, he forces us into a deal. Worst case… heh, have you forgotten what happened to those refugees at the camp outside the city?”

The mercenaries shuddered, recalling the grim rumors they’d heard on the road.

These noble lords… their hearts were blacker than tar.

“So where are we headed?” the deputy asked.

“To Oak Town!” Reed swung himself onto his horse.

“I’ve thought it through.”

“That place is smaller than Williams, sure—but it’s got everything we need, and trade’s livelier there.”

“Blacksmiths, general stores, cloth shops—everything Lady Liz might need can be gathered there.”

“And the lord of Oak Town, old John—stingy, yes, but fair. He’s not like the Morgans, who devour men and spit out their bones!”

“Let’s move! If we hurry, we can set camp near the town before nightfall!”

At his command, the Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps sprang into action—leading packhorses, driving wagons, and swiftly departing from Williams.

They took the road leading toward Oak Town.

Reed rode at the front, glancing back at the distant walls of Williams.

His mind spun with thoughts of supply lists and the Holy Water’s worth, and his lips curled into a grin.

Holy Light Town…

What a fine name!

If he could spread the fame of this Holy Water and the legend of Holy Light Town—drawing desperate souls there…

Then he, Reed—

Wouldn’t just be the captain of the Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps anymore.

He might well become the biggest Holy Water supplier in the entire region!

Far better than licking blood from a blade for coin!

The more he imagined it, the brighter his grin grew, as if he could already see gold coins pouring in like a river.

However—

Lost in his daydream, Reed didn’t notice that not long after their convoy left Williams’s gates, another horse slipped quietly from the castle’s side entrance.

It trailed them from afar.

The rider, cloaked in dark fabric with the brim of the hood pulled low, revealed only a pair of sharp, wary eyes—

Eyes fixed firmly on the dust rising from the Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps’ departing caravan.

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