Chapter 22: Armed Forces

Bamoli was filled with curiosity about the group that had arrived today. Seven people who had managed to break through the swarm of monsters was no small feat. Although two of them were renowned Ramah knights, he knew that this lord from the Caucasus was no easy opponent either. He had heard this man had a rather notorious reputation in Cyprus—even the grand duke’s most beloved princess had dared to target him. Though such actions were typical of nobles, it depended on whom they were directed at. It seemed no one in the Homer region had ever dared provoke the grand duke, not even his son, the treasurer. Yet this man seemed to have escaped punishment—provided he could successfully reach the Caucasus and survive there.

“Lord Baron, it seems you intend to stay in Bruce for some time?” His polite question demonstrated the humility befitting a knight.

“Oh, Commander, that’s indeed my plan. I heard the region around Leon isn’t very safe, so I thought I’d find some companions and stay here a few more days,” Kommer replied with a smile. There was nothing to hide. Since the other party had rejected his request, Kommer was worried they might be acting under the grand duke’s orders. But at the moment, he could do nothing but rely on fate.

“Heh, I’m afraid that will disappoint you. Few people travel from Bruce to the Darman Pass—only a handful a year. South of the Darman Pass, your territory is vast, but the population is sparse. Most people live self-sufficiently and rarely go to Leon, let alone here. Caravans only make a few trips a year, and they always travel in groups. It’s unlikely you’ll find one now,” Bamoli said, also smiling as he met his gaze. The baron’s dark eyes appeared somewhat sinister in the twilight—perhaps it was just his own perception, Bamoli thought.

“Is that so? Then we’ll have to wait a couple of days. If we can’t find companions, we’ll have to set off on our own,” Kommer said with a harmless, warm smile.

“Your men have bought quite a few slaves. What are your plans?” Bamoli cautiously tried to gauge the other party’s intentions.

“Well, I thought that after arriving in the Caucasus, I might need a few people to assist me in collecting taxes. The market area outside your castle is the most concentrated hub of human resources, making it convenient to recruit people. So I ordered them to select some and bring them back to the Caucasus, where they can be trained first so they can be put to use once we arrive,” Kommer replied calmly, though he was carefully analyzing the other party’s intentions.

“Oh, I see. I noticed your butler bought quite a lot of weapons and armor. I thought you were planning to train them as knights, hahaha,” Bhamori said with a joyful smile.

“Hehe, Commander, you’re joking. If warriors could be trained in just one or two days, they wouldn’t be real warriors but puppet warriors. You should know this better than I do,” Kommer replied calmly with a faint smile.

Puppet warriors? Bhamori was shocked. After observing Kommer’s expression carefully, he said, “It seems Lord Baron has some knowledge of magic? Do you also understand puppet warriors?”

“No, no, Commander, you’ve misunderstood. I’ve only heard about these terrifying puppet warriors from others. It is said that by carving or crafting them from special materials and endowing them with magic through certain powers, they can become puppet warriors stronger than real warriors. I just mentioned it casually earlier.” Ignoring the other party’s probing gaze, Kommer strolled along the castle walls. He had noticed that this commander seemed very interested in his group, paying close attention to every move he made, including his itinerary. This made him wary. He subtly tried to figure out whether the commander had learned about his magic skills from the two Rema knights. It seemed the Rema knights had hidden this fact, which gave him some relief.

Bhamori felt a bit more at ease. It was better not to ask too many detailed questions about certain things. Just like those two Rema knights, they also had many secrets hidden from others. But Bhamori didn’t want to know about them. He just wanted to sit in this position as commander as peacefully as possible, stay for a few more years, accumulate more wealth, and hope to return as a magistrate at the end of his next term.

After receiving the report from the weary Knight Mare, Kent asked detailed questions before sending the knight to rest, remaining alone in his room in deep thought. Though he did not know the specifics of the previous mission, he knew the Archbishop was very concerned about it and had sent Lord Jiaye twice to inquire about progress. Although there was no tone of blame in their words, Kent could sense the questioning gaze from Lord Jiaye each time, which put him under some pressure. Could a thief really have stolen something important from the Holy See? But why hadn’t the Archbishop or the Inquisitor mentioned it when he accepted the mission? Kent had pondered this question several times, but he could only keep these doubts to himself. For now, all he needed to do was track down the man who took the body; everything else didn’t require his concern.

Marco. This is the location of the Holy Light Church, home to one of the three famous churches of the Light Church—the Great Basilica of Pericle.

“Oh? Commander Kent, are you saying your suspect is a noble from Nicomedia? And a magician as well?” The dim Confession Room was very quiet. The simple, solemn stained glass kept the sunlight out, allowing only a little light to penetrate. The wrinkles on the old man’s rosy, thin cheeks seemed to bear the marks of decades of hardships. His clear and pure gaze met Kent’s, like a mountain spring, calming Kent’s heart and dispelling even the slightest doubts.

“Yes, Archbishop. This man is the younger son of the treasurer of Grand Duke Philip of Cyprus. He once had an emotional involvement with Grand Duke Philip’s youngest daughter, Princess Tracy, but things escalated out of control, forcing him into exile for three years before he returned. Now he has been granted lands in the Caucasus. The timing coincides with when we were on mission, but it seems he has little to do with the necromancers, so further investigation is needed. However, Knights Green and Mare have made some progress during this time; they’ve discovered that he seems to hide deep talents and even possesses the potential to become a mage. But according to our investigations, he was just a dissolute youth three years ago with no magical aptitude at all. Yet three years later, he became a mage and used advanced fire magic in a battle against the Grey Wolves—this is rather unreasonable. No other suspicious points have been found yet, so I have arranged for Knight Jep to go to the Caucasus to continue monitoring him alongside Knight Green.” Kent calmly recounted what he had investigated.

“Hmm, Commander Kent, you and your knights have done well. You may have many questions, but many things are not yet ready to be revealed. I hope you can understand. This matter is extremely important. Although there are no other suspicious points about this man yet, becoming a mage in just three years—yes, a mage, not just a magic user—if true, this would be an astonishing news story on the continent. It’s been a long time since such a magical genius appeared. I hope you and your knights will take this very seriously and thoroughly investigate whether he is involved in this matter.” A barely noticeable shadow passed over the old man in white robes, who then smiled and said, “The Caucasus is no ordinary place; it holds many unknown secrets. Commander Kent, you and your knights need to be careful. If necessary, Lord Jiaye can also assist you.”

“Thank you for your concern, Archbishop. Kent understands. I also ask for Lord Jiaye’s guidance,” Commander Kent said politely, nodding at the mysterious figure who had been standing behind the old man in white robes, completely covered except for his eyes.

Bamori was growing worried. It had been almost a week, yet there was still no sign that the guy would leave. Instead, his men were busy organizing training sessions on basic common sense in a “civilized society” for those wretched slaves. According to the sentries, early every morning, two of the baron’s servants along with his friends would take these slaves of mixed backgrounds to the edge of the forest to teach them daily etiquette and common sense, so that they wouldn’t lack manners in a sophisticated civilization and tarnish the baron’s reputation.

Bamori simply couldn’t believe it. Could those messy slaves really become free people? Did they really need to be trained in etiquette and common sense in a remote, uninhabited place? He was sure the baron must also sense the danger and was probably trying to rely on these rudely behaved, uncultured slaves armed with weapons to protect them. It was a complete joke. How could a few days turn a group of slaves who had never held a weapon and only had brute strength into warriors? Such “warriors” seemed far too lowly in status.

Bamori only hoped they would leave soon so that he could finish his mission and enjoy peaceful days in tranquility.

“Advance, strike! Thrust! Block! Good, do it again!”

“Advance, thrust! Retract, then thrust again! Good, pay attention to the angle. Keep repeating this. Your task is to thrust, thrust, and thrust until you knock the enemy down!”

On the open ground by the forest, Fran and Baoling meticulously instructed the sweat-soaked slaves to repeat each movement. This had gone on for days now. The slaves could barely follow Fran and Baoling’s commands and execute each action to standard, but it was clearly impossible to reach the desired level. At first glance, the fully armed slaves resembled a regular army, with their thick iron-encased oak shields swinging dramatically, giving them a formidable appearance. Yet after repeating the same movements endlessly, it was clear they were still far from being proper soldiers.

The hard training of the two archers didn’t yield much results either. The half-bloods with elven bloodlines showed innate talent for archery, and the high-quality oak shortbows purchased by Pube were fully utilized. But the other mortal archer disappointed everyone greatly. While the half-elf archer named Cobbit could shoot five arrows in a minute, he could only shoot one. But time didn’t allow Cohmer and the others to wait any longer.

“Lord, do you plan to set off?” Fran asked softly from behind Komer.
“Hmm, we can’t stay here either. One of those two Rema knights has already left, and the other is waiting here for news. Who knows what schemes they have in mind? Anyway, they don’t want to travel with us.” Komer didn’t turn around, still carefully observing the training of the slaves.
“Then when do you plan to set off?” Fran asked hesitantly. “I don’t know what your plans are, but if you expect these dozen or so people to act as mercenaries or bodyguards, they might disappoint you.”
“Fran, I understand what you mean, but some things aren’t as simple as you think. Hiring mercenaries or bodyguards might bring us more trouble. There are many things you don’t know about, so your judgment is based on common sense. Bandits are rampant in the Leon region, but from what I know, most of their members are escaped slaves and vagrants. Their groups aren’t large, and they never dare to attack mines guarded by larger private armies. I think we have to take a risk. But since we were able to survive among the magical beasts and those mad fallen knights, perhaps the gods of fate are on our side.” Komer turned around, a mysterious smile on his lips. “Many things only become clear after they happen.”