Chapter 318: The Comrades’ Home

The Rivers Territory was currently the easternmost barony within the Northern Kingdom that had not yet fallen under the control of the power of Annihilation.

And this barony was also the Northern noble land closest to Rod City in Greenwood.

For Bishop Jeven of Rod City, the Rivers Territory, though only a barony, was just the right counterpart to engage in some exchanges.

After all, any Northern noble who considered himself to have a bit of strength would never mind plundering a convoy of Greenwood cowards.

But since the Rivers Territory had no real commercial value, only Aen’s convoy—escorted by Bishop Jeven’s Virtue Knights—would pass through and interact here.

So, after Jeven had the Virtue Knights escort Aen and personally exchanged a few cordial words with Baron Giles Rivers, Giles obediently began trading with Aen.

In the back-and-forth of trade, Giles and Aen even developed a semblance of friendship.

What else could Giles do? His territory was already marked by the western marquises as a battlefield. No matter how deeply the Northern blood ran in his veins, there were always moments when his hot head cooled.

And when it cooled, he had to consider the matter of future shelter.

For example, when war began, he might have to flee to Greenwood.

Because of this, Giles intentionally or unintentionally learned a little about Greenwood’s system.

Thus, when Hode revealed that they were a mercenary company called the Comrades Group, Giles felt slightly at ease.

He was not unfamiliar with Greenwood mercenaries.

After all, whenever Aen came, he would mention stories of Greenwood’s Eastern Crusade, and currently the most renowned was the Bloodaxe Mercenary Company, boasting nearly a hundred men, including three Fourth-Rank Knights.

He had also heard of Northern mercenaries. The King of the North permitted the establishment of mercenary taverns and allowed vagrants to be recognized as mercenaries.

But his territory was too small, too far east, and so no one from Greenwood had come to open a mercenary tavern here.

Of course, Giles himself also resisted the idea of opening a mercenary tavern in his town.

The trouble to the west—spread by bard apprentices—was no secret to him.

In his eyes, the advantage of a mercenary tavern lay in gathering unruly vagrants of the territory, making them a force.

But the drawback was just as clear: if he failed to control them, that very force would threaten his position.

Though Baron Giles was himself a Northern Warrior, he was well aware he did not have the ability to rein in so many wild mercenaries.

So, when faced with the choice, he chose not to build.

For that reason, he decided to turn a blind eye to the Comrades Group, letting them trade and resupply as they pleased.

However, while Giles pretended not to see them, the Comrades Group came to find him.

“No, absolutely not!” Giles slammed his chair and stood up, glaring furiously at Zeke, the speaker.

But just after he said this, Hode, standing beside Zeke, glanced at him.

At once, Giles calmed down.

This man was the one who, with a single axe swing, could behead a baron—and that baron had just slain a viscount moments earlier.

Recalling the way Aen spoke during their conversations, Giles shifted his tone.

He said, “Absolutely not in my territory may a mercenary tavern be built for the Comrades Group to station. You are the pride of the North, and my place is but a small, poor, and remote barony. How could a land like mine possibly be worthy of hosting the pride of the North?”

Zeke said, “Precisely because we are the pride of the North, we must stand against, even drive out, those Fiends. That is why our Comrades Group must be stationed on the very frontlines.”

“And besides, it is not a mercenary tavern, but a Comrades’ Home.”

Zeke emphasized this.

Giles was somewhat unconvinced. What difference was there between this and a mercenary tavern? Yet judging by the look on Zeke’s face, if he refused, they might invoke Northern tradition.

Giles cast a glance at Hode, noting his leather armor, sturdy muscles, and calm eyes.

He gave in. Two days later, Zeke and Hode returned, this time announcing they had chosen a site for the Comrades’ Home. They also brought Giles a chest of gold coins.

Three thousand gold coins—the very price Giles had heard Western nobles paid to establish mercenary taverns.

Suddenly, Giles felt fortunate he had not refused. For these mercenaries to casually produce so much gold, their backing was certainly no simple matter.

“Now our gold reserves are nearly depleted,” Hode remarked while standing on a rise, watching the construction site.

Behind him, Zeke said, “This gold is enough.”

Hode’s gaze turned west, toward the Hoover Territory, where a thick black cloud loomed.

He asked, “Is it enough just to build a Comrades’ Home here?”

Zeke said, “The New Year is nearly upon us. Let everyone relax for a while. Afterward, we will begin hunting Fiends. Greenwood will pay a fine price for Fiend corpses. By then, our coffers will be full again.”

Hode turned back, staring at Zeke. “The Fiends annihilated Hoover Territory in an instant. Can the Comrades Group, as we are now, really contend with them?”

Zeke replied, “We are the Comrades Group, not a war legion. We need not fight them head-on. We hunt.”

Hode asked, “What if we provoke them into a full-scale assault on the North?”

Zeke said, “Greenwood will not stand idly by, nor will the Western nobles watch the Fiends seize more of the North. The west is already crowded.”

Hode pressed, “And what of the West? Are we to ignore them? There are no more warriors here to expand the Comrades Group.”

Zeke answered, “The West is tangled in gladiator affairs. It is chaotic. The Comrades Group should not meddle in such filth. For now, these men are enough. We need time to bind their hearts together.”

Hode asked, “Like Richard’s Oath Knights?”

Zeke said, “Not the same, but not too different either.”

Hode fell silent, gazing at the distant clouds.

Zeke lowered his eyes, feeling a faint pressure upon him.

Then Hode asked suddenly, “Zeke, do you mean for the Comrades Group to become the Oath Knights of the North?”

Zeke froze, hesitated, then finally said, “The Comrades Group is the Comrades Group. The North needs no knights. The North only needs us.”

…

The Comrades’ Home was built just outside Rivers Town. Giles had men watching its construction closely. Only after he saw that they used timber alone, without raising stone walls, did he breathe a little easier.

If they had built with both stone and heavy timber, then truly a fortress would be rising beside his bedchamber.

But since they used only timber, the Comrades’ Home was completed three days before the New Year.

The men of the Comrades Group cheered—it was their home.

Most of them were born as vagrants. Even those who were not had lived in ramshackle huts. Now, a massive, rough yet bold building stood, crafted by their own hands. It would be their shared home.

At that moment, they seemed to understand the meaning of “comrade.”

When Aen’s convoy arrived, he happened to hear their cheer.

He glanced at the oddly shaped wooden house—so crudely pieced together that he doubted it would stand through the night without collapsing.

Then he looked at the shouting men, who seemed more like a troop of monkeys, and shook his head.

“Savages of the North indeed.”

But the Virtue Knights escorting his convoy—Odysseus and the other three—wore grave expressions as they cast their eyes upon the Comrades’ warriors.

Hode, the two deputy leaders, two prospective Ring members, and two ordinary Fourth-Rank warriors.

Aen noticed Odysseus’s expression. He leaned in carefully and asked, “Trouble?”

Odysseus nodded. “Trouble. But do not worry. I sense no malice in them.”

Aen nodded, thought for a moment, and summoned a man. After whispering a few words, the man drove a cart of goods toward the Comrades’ Home.

The man was quickly stopped. But when the warriors saw the flour and turkeys on the cart, he was welcomed like an honored guest.

Soon, the man returned, carrying a crude wolf-head emblem. He handed it to Aen, saying, “They call themselves the Comrades Group. They said this is the symbol of friendship. When you carry this emblem into the Comrades’ Home, you are their honored guest. They will do one thing for you, unconditionally, anything.”

Aen found it amusing. The goods had been worth just over thirty gold coins. To buy the friendship of a group Odysseus considered troublesome—for merely thirty gold—what merchant would not envy him?

“But… the Comrades Group, huh…” Aen murmured. As a merchant, he naturally kept his ear to the ground. Though not serving Councilor Bevan but directly under the Diocese of Rod, he still knew of the Comrades Group of the North.

After some thought, he ordered another cart brought over, this time filled with beer—the Northern folk’s favorite.

“And tell them this: since we are friends, of course I must treat them to a drink. Only, I have pressing business now, so I will not visit in person,” Aen instructed.

The man departed, and soon after, just as he left the Comrades’ Home and entered Rivers Territory, he saw above the Home a blood-red wolf-head banner waved vigorously.

Aen chuckled softly and looked no more, leading his convoy into town.

“Dear Brother Aen.” At their meeting, Giles’s enthusiasm almost made Aen feel as if the man truly were his brother.

But when Aen glanced at Giles’s rugged face, full beard, and fur cloak that carried a strange odor, he quickly dismissed that frightening thought.

“Did you see those men of the Comrades Group outside the town?” Giles asked.

Aen nodded. “Of course, they are a friendly bunch.”

Giles gave an awkward smile. “Of course, I know they are good men. They are the pride of the North—the Comrades Group.”

He coughed twice, then said, “Look at their numbers. Each of them even wears well-made leather armor, and all of them wield sharp iron weapons. They are so strong—stronger than any warrior under my command.”

Aen understood. Giles was afraid, and had likely witnessed Aen’s interactions with them.

If it were only Aen, Giles would not be concerned—after all, Aen was merely a Greenwood merchant.

If it were only the Comrades Group, Giles would be afraid, but not overly so. He was no pushover.

Besides, the frozen earth of the North could crush a man if hurled hard enough.

But with Aen and the Comrades Group together, Giles truly began to worry.

The Comrades had men, while Aen had supplies and political backing.

Combined, they could easily raise an independent noble power here in the North.

Giles was not afraid of chaos before the North returned under the rule of the Supreme King—but he was afraid of losing his head.

Understanding Giles’s fear amused Aen, though outwardly he said, “Sir Giles, if you need such equipment, I can check the channels in Greenwood. Perhaps next time, I could bring you some.”

Though Greenwood itself was still updating its own arms, and it would be difficult for him to obtain gear equal to the Comrades Group’s, he was a merchant. And merchants naturally traded in the future.

Giles froze, then instinctively nodded. “That would be wonderful. As long as Brother Aen can bring it, I do not lack gold coins.”

Aen nearly laughed aloud.

“Barbarians of the North” was how nobles insulted them, but merchants like him preferred the term “paupers of the North.”

Still, he did not say it aloud. What if Giles truly had gathered some gold?

Aen said, “You are my dear Brother Giles. Gold is a trivial matter. We have been partners for more than half a year. Of course I will bring any fine goods for my Brother Giles.”

Relief flickered across Giles’s face.

Seeing this, Aen continued, “Just like this time, I have come on a mission from the Senate.”

Giles’s expression immediately turned serious.

Aen explained, “The New Year is near. Greenwood has recently received a miracle of the Lord—an extra harvest of wheat. So the Senate has decided to give everyone a share of the Lord’s New Year Gifts. Giles, you are my dearest brother, so I personally pleaded with Bishop Jeven to secure a share for your territory as well.”

Giles’s eyes reddened at once.

Not from gratitude—just as nobles never believed another noble’s words, Giles knew from long dealings with Aen that nothing from his mouth but trade was even half true. Everything else was not worth a syllable.

No, his eyes were red with envy. Greenwood’s extra harvest meant so much food, enough to feed so many mouths.

But recalling Aen’s words, he unconsciously rubbed his fingers together and asked, “So, this gift…”

Aen smiled. “Every person in your territory will receive a small bag of flour, half a turkey, and a bottle of beer.”

Giles’s face froze. As if confirming, he asked, “Every person?”

Aen confirmed, “Yes, every person. You included. This is the Lord’s gift. May none of His children go hungry in the New Year.”

As Aen spoke, he deliberately revealed the silver cross on his chest, clasped it in his hand, closed his eyes, and bowed his head devoutly like a pious believer.

Giles’s smile grew stiff. He glanced at the four Virtue Knights behind Aen—each one had beaten him before.

So his smile softened into something more natural. “Yes, truly merciful is the Lord.”

Opening his eyes, Aen said, “Indeed. So, I would ask Sir Giles to help distribute these gifts to every person.”

Giles looked troubled. “But I have too few men, and the territory is rather… unsettled. My warriors must increase their patrols.”

Poverty mixed with aggression meant that Giles’s territory was nearly abandoned, yet still safe enough to walk at night.

In truth, he simply saw no benefit to himself in helping.

Aen, of course, knew what Giles was thinking. He had even prepared gold beforehand to pay for his cooperation.

This was standard procedure from the Senate—without a lord’s approval, merchants could not distribute anything.

But now, Aen changed his mind.

Feigning surprise, Aen said, “Your territory is unsettled lately?”

Giles nodded. “The western North is in chaos, as you know. Refugees displaced by war have come here.”

Aen nodded thoughtfully, frowning. “Then these supplies will be difficult to deliver. Only three days remain until the New Year.”

He sighed. “If only you had a mercenary tavern here, Brother Giles. Then I could hire mercenaries to handle it.”

Giles replied casually, “Isn’t the Comrades Group mercenaries as well? Even if they call their residence the Comrades’ Home, it doesn’t change what they are.”

Aen’s eyes lit up, and he grasped Giles’s hand gratefully. “I nearly forgot them. Thank you, Brother Giles. If I fail to distribute the gifts before the New Year, then I will have committed the sin of Sloth.”

Giles said, “If you truly wish to thank me, perhaps you could give me a better discount on your goods this time. Say… half price.”

Aen’s face stiffened. He had not expected a Northern lord to know how to haggle.

But gritting his teeth, he said, “Half… Half it is. Sir Giles is my good brother, and you are helping me greatly. Even if I suffer losses, I cannot let Brother Giles be disappointed.”

Yes, a loss indeed. He had expected to earn two thousand gold coins, and now would only earn one thousand.

At last Giles smiled genuinely. “So, Brother Aen, how many goods have you brought this time?”

Aen composed himself, pretending to calculate. “Around two thousand gold worth.”

Giles waved his hand. “Half price makes one thousand gold. I’ll take it all.”

Aen glanced sideways. It seemed Giles truly had come into wealth.

…

After the deal, Aen said he had urgent matters and would head to the Comrades’ Home at once.

Giles was now cautious, and Aen did not wish to provoke him further.

When Aen reached the Comrades’ Home, he discovered the source of Giles’s sudden wealth.

“With the one thousand I just earned, plus another five hundred, I want to hire you for a task,” Aen told Hode.

The five hundred had been issued by the Senate. No merchant dared pocket it—it was meant for this work.

But Hode ignored him, staring instead at the four Virtue Knights standing tall in armor.

“One thousand five hundred gold coins. That is a fine job,” Zeke said, drawing Aen’s gaze.

Seeing Zeke’s look, Aen understood: unlike him, the others were pure Northerners.

Aen said, “It isn’t difficult, just troublesome.”

Then he explained about distributing the New Year Gifts.

At once, every Comrades Group warrior in the Home turned their eyes from the Virtue Knights to Aen.

Being stared at by so many half-naked, muscle-bound men made Aen falter for a moment.

He hurriedly added, “Of course, everyone in the Comrades Group will also receive their share of the gifts.”

The Comrades’ Home roared with cheers and the stench of beer.

Though the gifts were only enough to feast for a day or two, no one cared. They were already drunk, and this good news sent them into raucous celebration.

Except for two—Zeke and Hode.

Hode’s eyes darkened as he recalled the Church’s traditions. Though he had not lived it himself, he knew the New Year Gift was indeed a practice.

Zeke turned to him and asked, “Commander, do you think we should take this task? The Rivers Territory has three villages and one town, with a population of around eight thousand. As Mr. Aen said, the task is not hard—just troublesome. Especially with the gentry involved.”

The lord might dismiss the gifts, thanks to Aen, but the gentry would not be so generous.

Hode asked, “What do you think?”

Zeke replied, “For one thousand five hundred York gold coins, each comrade will receive at least fifteen. It is a worthwhile task. Perhaps ending the year with this will be a good omen.”

Hode asked, “And the gentry?”

Zeke said, “Perhaps you and the Ring members could speak with them.”

Hode asked, “And the lord?”

Both turned to Aen.

Aen said, “The lord is my friend. He too praises the Lord’s mercy. His castle has already received the gifts.”

Hode said, “Then the Comrades Group will take this task.”

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