Chapter 6: Eastward

A new day—this was already the fourth day since Neo and the others had separated from the migration group. By rough estimation, the Gale Squad was still 80 kilometers behind them.

Early in the morning, Neo approached Mah, who was feeding the horses.
“How much forage is left?”
“Not including today, three days,” said Mah, brushing the horses’ coats.
“Hmm.” Neo stepped forward, patted one of the horses’ rumps, checked its manure, and finally focused on its legs. “Keep an eye on the weather. If it stays as cold as now this afternoon, put boots on the horses.”
“Okay.”
“Mah, aren’t you from the Frey people?”
Mah paused for a moment before continuing to brush the horse. “No.”
Neo smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to delve into your past. I’m only concerned about the present and the future.” He looked at Mah seriously. “I’m here to make a deal with you. I’ll pay for the goods first. As for what to give in return, you can take your time deciding.”

As he spoke, a new green glow appeared at the tip of Neo’s right finger.
“Power of Nature!?” Mah, clearly perceptive, immediately identified the source of Neo’s technique—something even Valentina couldn’t do.
“I can spot three internal injuries. If I’m wrong, point them out.” Neo pointed first at Mah’s right arm, then his left leg, and finally his back. All were Life Touches. The combined energy cost of these three techniques was slightly more than that of a single Life Wave, while the mental strain was almost double.

In less than two minutes, the treatment was over. Neo didn’t linger and turned toward the blacksmith’s shop.

“Your actions don’t seem like those of a mere squad leader,” Mah said suddenly, watching Neo’s retreating figure.
Neo stopped and turned back. “My ambition isn’t just to be a small squad leader.”
“A noble?”
“That’s a pack of dogs. I’m thinking of a pack of wolves.” This time, Neo didn’t look back and walked away.
“A pack of wolves…” Mah murmured. There were many ways to describe it—it could evoke freedom or wild bandits gathering together.

The blacksmithing work that morning was still heavy—20 short swords needed to be forged. With insufficient materials, Neo had melted down the members’ weapons the previous night.

Tracing back to the root of this issue, it all came down to Valentina. Poverty showed up in every aspect—shoemakers having no shoes to make wasn’t unusual. In the Land of Black Iron, lacking good weapons wasn’t just a shame for the Matthewa Knightdom. Valentina saw that Neo’s concept of short swords and spears designed for the Terres militia was good, so she used some of her authority to hand over inferior swords to the Gale Squad in exchange for a dozen short swords. In Neo’s eyes, those weapons were nothing but edged iron pieces, not even worth repairing. The only option was to melt them down, add materials, and forge them anew.

The biggest difference between these short swords of the Gale Squad and those used by the Thures militia lies in the hilt. The Thures militia used socketed hilts; by pushing the wooden rod at the back inward, it turned into a spear. Those of the Gale Squad, on the other hand, had a bare strip—essentially the original form without any wrapping—with two holes cut into it, used for inserting pins. When used as a sword, it served as a rivet; when used as a spear, it became a long pin. Once the strip was secured in the slot and the pin was inserted, it locked in place. Moreover, the blade guard was in the shape of an iron ring, fused in during forging.

As a result, although time was needed later to shape the hilt and to create iron slots at one end of the spear handle, the initial forging process was much less labor-intensive. To put it bluntly, what was produced at that stage were simply qualified iron strips that could be sharpened into short swords.

Apart from the active group of blacksmiths, the rest of the people were mainly involved in work related to leather and meat. Tanning leather was now in the latter half of the process, which wasn’t particularly complicated—following Nio’s instructions, it required only some labor and time.

Another type of leather came from the upper bodies of dead Cordimans, covered with numerous tattoo patterns. This leather was thicker than human skin but thinner than the leopard skin from their lower bodies. Previously, it hadn’t been processed due to a lack of suitable tools, but now that the tools were available, there was no reason to delay further.

One of the tasks this morning was to degrease and dry these leathers. Doing this work made members like Hagen and Tony, who didn’t have a rough temperament, feel uneasy once again. After all, these leathers were already quite similar to human skin. Thinking about how Nio would use them in the future made them feel strange, as if they themselves were becoming barbaric, like cannibals.

The third type of leather was rotten leather—small, unusable pieces obtained by disassembling the tattered leather armor the members originally wore. Nio ordered that all available tools, such as stone mills and rollers, be used to crush these pieces further, then combine them with crushed branches, a tree sap sticky like maltose, and some unknown powders to boil together.

The maltose-like tree sap and powders had been among the supplies since the beginning of the squad, while the branches were brought back by Nio that night in Winter Green Valley. At the time, the members didn’t know their purpose, nor did anyone care. Only now did they realize that everything was part of Nio’s plan—the work they were doing had already been included in his plans since the squad was formed.

The mixture resulting from this boiling process eventually had a terrible smell, like that of a stinky mud pond, with a sour, extremely pungent odor. It also looked disgusting—dark green in color, bubbling violently, just like the poisonous substances cooked in the cauldrons of old witches in legends.

After several hours of processing,Neo came to demonstrate how to use this material—spreading it evenly on a wooden surface, letting it cool slightly, and then rolling it with a wooden roller. Quian had all the necessary tools and space, so it wasn’t difficult to make. Once completely cooled, a substance called “rubber-like material” was formed—strong, durable, and resistant to deformation, but not as flexible as leather; it was stiff like hard armor leather, though it lacked luster. Some members said it resembled the rough and mottled bark of poplar trees.
“Will we have to wear armor made from this stuff? It looks too ugly!”
“Will it be uglier than the cotton armor you’re wearing now?”
“Well, I guess…”
This material was indeed suitable for making armor. With a shortage of iron and a lengthy and complex process for crafting iron armor, this material served as a substitute, eliminating many steps in armor production and allowing for reuse.Neo thought that, given the physical strength of his subordinates, wearing such armor in battle was already at the limit—except for Wittz, Barrit, and Mah.
To avoid a surplus of labor,Neo also initiated another project: bone removal. Still centered around humans and beasts, he ordered the bones to be extracted. Though it seemed simple, it required both strength and skill; otherwise, the workers would exhaust themselves without getting much done. Mah volunteered to lead the task, andNeo happily agreed. He knew their private deal had begun to take effect.
Neo had originally planned to work in the morning and travel in the afternoon, just as he had done the day before. But the arrival of 10 Mathuya militiamen delayed his plans slightly.
By then,Neo and his 14 subordinates had already eaten lunch and were slowly packing up to leave. That’s when they saw these 10 militiamen who, two days earlier, had vowed to make a living through hunting and prove themselves toNeo.
Unlike the previous six bandits, they didn’t look disheveled. Though they appeared worn out—with crooked armor and pale faces—they still retained some dignity. They didn’t gloat or bow at the sight ofNeo. The young man whomNeo had noticed even had the mood to tell a cold joke. He looked around and said, “Huh? We must have gotten lost and ended up in Croop!”
“No, you’re in Quian.”Neo scanned the militiamen one by one, pausing briefly on their two snow plows, where there were 4 or 5 animal skins. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out what the militiamen had caught over the past few days and how long it would last them.
His gaze finally settled on the young man who had clearly become the temporary leader. He had talked about this man with Bogleim and Barrit and learned his name was Bichir.

Nio said to Bichir, “If all you need are walls to shield against the cold, Quian certainly has those. Other things, like those large and heavy facilities and structures, might not be necessary. But what I want to emphasize is that we wiped out a squad of Cordim scouts from another tribe the night before. I have a feeling their style is more stubborn and persistent. They will come after us, and we’re getting further away from safety.”

At that moment, Witz strode over. “Boss, everything’s ready.”

The militia members looked at Witz in surprise. This man, who had seemed in terrible condition like a wounded person just battered by wind and rain, was now full of energy. How was that possible? Soon after, they saw Mah, who had regained his vigor, as well as Dick and the others, whose faces glowed with health, clearly living well. Even those bandits they had despised during the hunt now seemed presentable.

“What’s going on? Did they go not to Croop but to some place called Valley of Revival (a legendary secret realm)?”

Although they were all colleagues in name, feelings of envy still surged within them. A sense of despair spread among the militia, along with resentment and unwillingness.

“We’re confident we can take care of ourselves,” Bichir said. Though he was envious, he knew they shouldn’t lose face in battle; otherwise, their morale would collapse and they’d truly suffer defeat.

These bold words indeed restored some dignity to the Mathuya militia. They all raised their heads again, showing they were capable.

Nio nodded. It seemed the Mathuya militia had learned a lot about preserving pride from Valentina.

“Dignity and pride—since you’re willing to hold on, keep going.” Nio had initially considered recruiting them, but seeing their attitude, he realized he was being emotional. He was the last person who could afford to abandon others. Otherwise, how could he face those who came to him out of desperation?

Yet, balance was also important. It would be excessive to try to integrate everyone internally at the cost of killing them. After thinking for a few seconds, Nio said to the leader of the Mathuya militia, “If you have time, go check out the kitchen shelves in the Srod family’s stronghold; you’ll be surprised.” With that, he left with Witz.

Boglem and Barrit, who were nearby, also heard this. They gave the militia members meaningful looks before following the group away.

It’s easy to go up the mountain but hard to come down. Two heavily loaded sleds needed Nio’s control to slide down smoothly—a fact the militia members also realized deeply, though that was several hours later.

Watching Nio and his group leave, it would be nonsense to say the Mathuya militia felt no regret. They knew best how well they were doing. Over the past few days, they had struggled hard in the jungles of Winter Green Valley to catch enough prey, but their harvest wasn’t as abundant as they had hoped. Moreover, life couldn’t be sustained just with a few pieces of meat.

In fact, their condition was getting worse by the day—exhausted, tired, with aches all over their bodies. They couldn’t even properly fix the tears in their clothes during hunting, and many suffered from chilblains on their hands, feet, and even faces.

Besides personal problems, there were external issues as well. Due to their improper hunting methods, few medium and small animals ventured into this area, so hunting took longer and longer with ever fewer catches.

Once, due to human negligence and failure to follow certain precautions while cooking, a large brown bear was attracted, causing chaos as it chased after the group. The bear wasn’t killed, most of their arrows were wasted, and it even ate and took away all their captured food. The group was left clinging to trees, utterly helpless.

As Nio had predicted, even dead crows have stubborn tongues, and the pride of the Mathuya militia was no less stubborn.

No sooner had Nio left the mountain than someone stepped in to save face, imitating Nio’s tone and saying, “We already killed a squad of Cordim scouts… What’s there to boast about? Just killing a few Cordims? Miss Srod led us to kill over a hundred Cordims and later rescued the Thuresians from the Dark Claws. Yet she doesn’t start bragging as soon as she meets someone! And ‘I vaguely sense their style is stubborn and persistent. They’ll come after us; we’re getting further away from safety.’ How does she know that? Divine intuition? Oh! They had no problems staying put, but as soon as we arrived, danger crept in? Pfft!”

His companion said, “Hmph! The worst part is not even that. What I hate most is his act—pretending to be calm and detached, acting all superior, while probably being quite proud inside!”

Another added in agreement, “What kind of messy clothes are they wearing? They look so ugly, and they don’t even bring weapons. How dare they act so arrogantly! Boglem, they don’t even bother to talk to us!”

“What are they wearing? Dead people’s clothes!” another militia member drawled. “Have you forgotten what those brothers who returned from the Dark Claws extermination battle described? Think about the fabric on their clothes.”

“It’s not just dead people’s clothes; there are also corpse carts. Didn’t you see those chunks of meat on the two carts? They went to Croop—where did they get so much meat? From the Cordims! Those guys are as big as adult horses. Those four weak horses must have suffered a lot, not to mention that filthy fur-covered wolf and its werewolf comrades, who also didn’t escape when it was time to pull the carts!”

“Oh…” The group suddenly realized. “Damn it, corpse-eaters! Ugh! Just thinking about it is creepy. We eat animals—let them gnaw on corpses!”

Biel wasn’t so optimistic. His expression was gloomy, and he remained silent, pondering Nio’s last words.

“What surprises could there be in the kitchen? Could it be…”

Just as Nio had mentioned to Mah in the morning, the temperature dropped again. The snow on the fields even formed a hard crust on the surface, reflecting the sunlight like ice crystals. From afar, it looked smooth and shiny, making everyone grin. One member spat out thick breath and said, “Damn! What kind of weather is this? Is it even possible to live like this?”

“I’m worried about my mother. She already has arthritis and some asthma!”
His companion could only pat his shoulder silently to comfort him. Such weather was cruel to all life in the Erdrit lands.
Without wind, it was dry and freezing—purely cold, bitterly sharp. The horses wore leg guards, and thanks to proper care, they remained in good spirits. The team members didn’t feel too cold either. As per Nio’s instructions, their cotton armor was made relatively loose with air holes, which should have allowed cold air to seep in, but in reality, it kept them warm. As they moved, warmth flowed around their bodies. Some, not understanding the principle of insulation, were puzzled—Witz was one of them. He couldn’t hide his curiosity and asked Nio, “Boss, why are there holes in this coat, and why is it warmer than leather?”
“In the northern ice and snow tundra of Ord, there live the North Kalid people. They have a saying: ‘A three-layered skin tent is better than castle walls.’ It means that no matter how thick the walls are, the cold can still penetrate them, but if there’s space in between, the cold can’t get through. Also, have you ever noticed that when you sleep wearing clothes, you might wake up feeling cold, but if you sleep with clothes draped over you, it’s much better?”
Witz chuckled. “Yeah, I have! But no one knows why.”
With the first question came a second. Dick asked Nio, “Boss, how did you know those Cordim we fought against were a stubborn bunch? I saw those people from Bir looking confused; they probably didn’t even listen!”
“Do you remember their ornaments?”
“Yes, those colorful stones—not real gems. They wore them on their wrists, necks, and waists, and yet they didn’t seem bothered by the weight!”
Nio nodded and explained to Dick, as well as to everyone else. After all, they might have to deal with these alien races along the way, so knowing more about them couldn’t hurt.
“Ornaments are part of Cordim culture. It’s not as broad, diverse, or rich in content as human civilization. Many of their items have very straightforward symbolic meanings.”
Nio’s voice was steady, calm, and magnetic, and his articulate speech made everyone enjoy listening to him analyze things.
Nio continued, “The stones represent the style of this Cordim tribe. Have you noticed they’re pebbles?”
“Yeah, they are! I even kept two!” One of the team members said, pulling out two smooth, shiny stones with colored patterns and holding them up.
“Showoff, I have ones too!” a teammate teased.
Everyone laughed.
Nio smiled and said, “Do you know the meaning and symbolism of pebbles? It’s quite simple: they’ve been polished by the years, becoming smoother and more beautiful. That’s why stubbornness and persistence are the traits of these Cordim orcs. Such enemies are like turtles—they hold on tightly and won’t let go.”
Everyone laughed again.

“Stop smiling foolishly and pay attention,” Nio said. “Also, those Cordim that Miss Srod led her men to ambush wore ornaments made of bones. What does that mean? It’s easy to understand. They consider bloodshed and bravery as honors, keeping their enemies’ bones as a display of their valor. That’s the idea.”
Nio turned to Dick and continued, “So I guess the group of Cordim you followed Miss Srod in ambushing were extremely fierce. They didn’t retreat despite being caught in an ambush but charged forward. When they saw blood, they became even more ruthless. No one escaped except those who were sent to deliver messages.”
Dick nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly right. Although it was an ambush, we didn’t gain much advantage. Fortunately, the enemy didn’t wait for stronger professionals five levels or higher, and their leader was killed by Miss Srod right from the start. Miss Srod wouldn’t let us talk about the brutality of that battle, yet you guessed it all, Captain!”
Nio smiled. He could somewhat understand Valentina’s intentions. She had already been tempted by the idea of moving east since the night she met him, and many of her subsequent decisions revolved around one goal—highlighting her own advantages. This was also one of the key reasons why Mathuya wanted to cooperate with Tures. Valentina still had a somewhat simple mindset regarding fair exchanges.
After Dick’s explanation, the team members truly believed in Nio’s analysis.
“Captain, how do you know so much?”
“Some I learned from books, and some from what the veterans talked about in the taverns.”
“I thought what’s said in taverns is just nonsense or bragging!”
“Not entirely. It mainly depends on one’s ability to discern and choose.” Nio briefly ended the topic and added, “From now on, be aware that though the Cordim use all sorts of flashy decorations, they still have a dominant color scheme. Those who use stones prefer blue-gray, while those who use bones prefer blood-red. Now you know whether the enemy is good at fighting to the death or at prolonged battles, right?”
“Yes!” they replied in unison.
Borglem shouted, “When you see red devils fighting, know it’s fierce combat! When you see blue devils, it means they’re fighting to the death!”
Nio praised, “That’s exactly right.”
……
There was no wind, and both the people and the pack horses were in good condition. That afternoon, the team moved swiftly. Only Witz, who had just recovered from an injury, rode along a few times; the rest kept going at full speed. By sunset, they had covered 30 kilometers.
“Captain, about 5 miles further in that direction is Ratno,” Tony said, pointing southeast to remind Nio. He often traveled around Quian and was familiar with the area’s geography.
Ratno was a grape-growing region similar in scale to Croop, but it was directly under the lordship of Viscount Edrith. It was located at the tip of the viscount’s territory, shaped like a short musket. However, it only focused on cultivation, as the winemaking system had been moved away decades ago by the previous Viscount Edrith. So in this village, one couldn’t taste the famous Ratno champagne.
“Everyone, rest behind that small hill ahead. Stay alert. Barrit will act as my substitute. If Ratno is safe, I’ll send White Socks back alone to report. Do you all understand?”
“Understood!”

As the team members began to rest, Neo put on his full armor. Macken and Woodrow had helped repair the main parts, but Neo himself had fine-tuned the details, restoring it to its best condition. It was the first time Dick and the others had seen Neo fully armored.

“The captain’s armor is really stunning—it could even be a family heirloom,” one of the team members exclaimed.

Dick nodded in agreement. “Yeah, even Miss Srod’s armor can’t compare. This armor is truly impressive. The chest plate seems to be a different design from the arms, legs, and head pieces, but it’s still cool!”

“You don’t get it! That’s a Stone Lizard Scale chest plate—one of the rewards for the winner of the last arena battle. Compared to others, it’s the most valuable armor,” Boglem interjected.

Dick retorted, “I don’t think so. At least it doesn’t look as good as the brass set.”

Mah also spoke up for once. “In terms of craftsmanship, the brass set is indeed better, with intricate mechanisms. I heard the captain built this armor himself. That means he’s already a ‘Master Craftsman’.”

“Wow! I knew it! Such a young Master Craftsman! If he focuses on this field, he might be able to reach the level of ‘Hand of Creation’ by age 30. The captain should just switch careers!” Chebman chimed in. He spent most of his time thinking about profit and maximizing earnings, which earned him the nickname “the money freak.”

By then, Neo had inserted his twin swords into the slots on the back of his armor—click! He then removed the wolf-head helmet. His handsome appearance wasn’t ideal on the battlefield, as it lacked a sense of intimidation. That’s why Neo designed the wolf-head helmet—it wasn’t grotesque, but it had a fierce look.

Although he had three decent battle bows captured from Cordim, Neo still chose throwing knives. He mounted his mount, took up the gray spear, and headed straight for Ratno.

“I don’t think the captain is going on an exploration mission—he’s going to massacre the village,” Hagen said.

Tony agreed with Hagen. “Judging from what happened that night, if there aren’t many enemies, the captain could probably wipe them out alone.”

Barrett crossed his arms and watched Neo’s retreating figure. “The captain is taking on the lead now, but he’s not planning to act as a nanny forever. Look at those newly made short swords and leather armor materials—they’re not for show. Everyone should be aware of that.”

Boglem agreed with Barrett. “The captain is already being generous. He’s trying every means possible to improve our equipment. For that alone, we should also be serious—otherwise, it would be unmanly.”