Chapter 81: Bloodhand Mercenary Corps

“Haha, don’t be so tense. If he truly had any strength, I wouldn’t have come personally.” The red-robed mage smiled. “And don’t pretend to be law-abiding citizens. You’ve murdered nobles before—like at Wolfhowl Keep… heh.”

“I was only testing your real intention. If the price is right, my brothers and I would even dare to rape the Empress.”

Bloodhand laughed instead of getting angry, sheathing his blade as he stepped forward and slung an arm around the mage’s shoulders.

“You just need to do the job.” The red-robed mage slapped the hand away, sneering endlessly.

Mercenaries had little concept of morality or discipline. They were among the few who dared to assassinate nobles—or even attempt usurpation.

“The target is Baron Phield. Ask around if you want—he’s a cowardly, useless waste. Hardly any soldiers under him, maybe none at all. Find him first, then kill him. The bounty is five hundred gold coins. Everything he carries belongs to you.”

“Oh? A noble without soldiers?” Bloodhand tilted his head, puzzled.

“Then he’s trash!”

The mercenaries burst into laughter.

“I can’t wait to strip the baron’s wife or daughter bare like little lambs and hold them in my arms.”

“Come on, anyone heading to Maple Leaf City probably doesn’t even have a wife. They’re here looking for women themselves.”

“Hahaha!”

“Enough.” The mage cut them off and added, “I’ll assist you the whole time. I’m a second-tier fire mage.”

A second-tier fire mage was practically artillery in this era—devastatingly lethal.

“Having a mage’s support is great,” Bloodhand said, a greedy curve forming at the corner of his mouth. “But we won’t charge in blindly. Give us time—we’ll verify your claims. If things aren’t as you said, then it’s a different price.”

The Bloodhand Mercenary Company extinguished their torches and vanished into the darkness.

…

The moment Phield stepped into Maple Leaf Fortress, cheers erupted around him.

“See? I told you he’d make it back alive!” A gate guard laughed loudly as he cranked the winch. “Welcome to the fortress, honorable baron! We’ve got hot soup and olive wine—come in and have a drink!”

Soldiers along the walls cheered loudly.

Where some rejoiced, others despaired—several soldiers hung their heads, mourning their lost wagers.

“Unbelievable… someone actually came back a second time. Damn it, I lost all my money.”

A soldier who had won stepped forward eagerly. “You’re our hero! Come have a drink. We’ve got beds ready too. You really came back from the Northlands a second time—goddess bless!”

Damn, they actually used me for gambling. Still… being welcomed like this did lift his mood.

“I’ll pass on the wine, but thank you for the kindness.” Phield glanced around. As expected, once inside Maple Leaf territory, even the atmosphere felt different—soldiers were relaxed and unruly, gambling and drinking openly.

He was in a good mood. As for the betting, he wouldn’t hold it against them.

The journey had been easy—perhaps because of their small numbers: five infantry, five cavalry, fifteen slaves, and the maid Nina. With the help of the mini-map and the Divine Chosen, they reached the border fortress effortlessly.

It was worth noting that Maple Leaf Territory’s border fortress was not the private property of the Maple Leaf baron. It was jointly owned by the Empire and the baron, with the Empire holding the greater share. Maintaining a massive fortress and endless walls was beyond even the wealthy Baron Simon.

“Wow… it’s been so long since I’ve seen the world of the living. So dazzling… I want to destroy it, want to kill everyone.”

Unlike Ashina, who was still catching up on sleep, Rosalia—hidden within the greatsword—chattered endlessly in Phield’s ear.

“Don’t get discovered,” Phield whispered.

“This lady will be careful.”

“My lord, be cautious. I sense hostile intent drifting from that hill.” Ashina lifted the curtain, yawning as she pointed toward a direction.

“Hostility? Understood.” Phield glanced at the distant hill, surrounded by dense forest, impossible to see clearly.

Escorted by the fortress soldiers’ cheers, Phield led his party toward Maple Leaf City, arriving the next day.

Maple Leaf City looked the same as ever—a three-meter-high wall that seemed more decorative than defensive, draped with fine silk and flowers.

But one thing had changed: the number of vagrants had multiplied dozens of times.

Filthy, hollow-eyed people huddled together—at least a thousand at a glance, packed tightly. Even carefree Maple Leaf City had deployed troops and officials to maintain order.

“So many vagrants?” Phield was genuinely startled.

“Heh.” A pleasant feminine laugh sounded beside him. “You must have come from the moon.”

Phield turned toward the voice. A stunning older woman stood there, dressed in caravan linen with a headscarf. She looked like a married woman, yet carried the lively air of a young girl.

Phield winked at her. “Would you enlighten me?”

“They’re refugees—from the Purple Gold Empire, from Itavon Province, and of course, some real drifters.” She shrugged, disgust flashing in her eyes. “War is always like this. Despicable people chase short-term gains while harming ordinary folk who simply love life.”

“You’re right.” Phield smiled. “What exactly happened?”

“The Purple Gold Empire has already fallen. The Heretics continue their western advance. The Kingdom of Valaia, Taloria’s Trade Alliance, the Papal State, and the Hungarian Empire—called the Shield of Holy Light—have formed the Divine Punishment Army. They should be able to defeat the Heretics.”

“As for Itavon Province, a civil war broke out. Cultists seized a missing fifth-tier divine artifact, the Eye of Ancient Vows, and raised an army of tens of thousands overnight. The governor has begun rallying the major nobles to suppress the rebellion. Without a doubt, Itavon Province is finished this time.”

“The situation changes fast.” Phield showed no alarm, only a faint sigh. “Whether an empire prospers or falls, the ones who suffer most are always the common people.”

“Oh? You actually see things that way?” The woman looked surprised.

Phield gave a lazy smile.

He smelled opportunity.

Only in times of upheaval could immense profit be seized.

“I hope you’re not someone who loves war and slaughter.” She raised an eyebrow and left with her caravan.

Phield waved. “Of course not. Thank you for the information.”

The moment she left, Phield clenched his fist, excitement blazing across his face.

“A viscounty in Itavon rebelling? Haha, that’s perfect.” Phield sneered. “Wind Orchid City is right next door.”

He still remembered his younger brother’s mocking grin.

“Wind Orchid City is famous for goats and beer.”

Heh… goats, huh? Beer, huh?

Phield licked his lips, greed flashing in his eyes.

When I arrive, you’d better still be smiling. I’ll slap that grin off your face—turn it into a slave’s piss pot.

What he had said earlier—”Whether an empire prospers or falls, the common people suffer most”—was a genuine reflection. He was willing to treat his own subjects well. But when it came to enemies… he was nothing less than a warmonger.

Cold sweat ran down Sam and the others’ backs. Their lord’s expression was terrifying.

“Ahem. Ashina, take everyone to rest. And gather more intelligence.” Phield handed her a pouch of gold coins. “Buy good food for the cavalry and my maid—they’ve worked hard. You too, eat something nice.”

Ashina smiled and nodded. “As you command.”

“Thank you, Lord Baron!”

The group nearly knelt on the spot.

“Sam, I haven’t forgotten what I promised. You’re free men now—go enjoy yourselves.” Phield handed the guards five gold coins and several vials of Vigor Elixir. “Don’t forget to show the real strength of Nightfall Domain men. These coins are an advance on your pay.”

“As long as you don’t die, go all out. If anyone asks, say it’s a divine medicine granted by your lord—an offering from the Goddess of Love. You can share some with them. Understood?”

Sam and the others accepted the items, thrilled. “Understood!”

Phield needed them to spread the word for him.

That very night, Phield didn’t even visit Baron Simon. The moment Ironhammer returned, Simon’s invitation followed immediately.

The inn door was knocked upon. A maid informed Phield that Simon’s Divine Chosen had come personally, warmly inviting him to stay at the manor.

“So formal? It’s midnight, isn’t it? Seems someone can’t wait.” Phield yawned. Things were moving even faster than he had expected. “If a Divine Chosen came personally, I should give him face.”

“I’m coming too.” Rosalia, who had been staring into the darkness, turned around with her hands on her hips in protest. “From now on, no one gets to break the link between us!”

Phield was speechless. What kind of ’link’ was that supposed to be? It sounded strange.

Next time I’ll pin you to the bed for being so arrogant.

Still, there was no rush. Rosalia often made outrageous remarks, yet she herself maintained the reserved dignity of a noble lady. When idle, she preferred reading, drinking tea, or occasionally playing chess alone.

Phield patted her head reassuringly. “Just stay hidden in the shadows. I’ll go to the manor alone.”

“But…” Rosalia’s eyes filled with worry. Knowing Phield never went back on his word, she finally nodded. “If there’s danger, call me. I’ll stay hidden outside the manor.”

“I know how to handle it.”

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