Chapter 31: Deceptions

“Nio is injured!” This news made Zhanza feel his emotions boiling up.
“What to do after being injured? Recover! Where? The Swift Wind Team, who are in charge of perimeter security? The chances are slim!” Zhanza sat on a freshly cut tree stump, staring toward the valley dozens of meters away.
There, the thick smoke had dissipated, and the guards were clearing the corpses of the Red Ghosts. Many of them were laughing and joking loudly, sounds that Zhanza could hear clearly from afar. He understood perfectly why they were laughing so heartily. Victory? No, that was just the prerequisite; what mattered was the loot! According to the prior instructions, everyone would share in the small gains from the battlefield. Killing 500 Red Ghosts this time meant a substantial reward—after all, these creatures raided in the Erdrite territory, so how could there be no loot?
“Hmph! While the dead lie unburied and the wounded scream in pain, these Fray people here laugh and grin, greedy and heartless!” Zhanza curled his lips and continued pondering. He believed the Swift Wind Team wouldn’t bring the wounded with them. “Their tasks are too numerous and demanding!” Zhanza had already found out that while fighting here, the Swift Wind Team had also infiltrated Watzburg to try and catch the Red Ghosts off guard again.
Thinking about these successive victories, Zhanza admired the Swift Wind Team for planning, organizing, and executing these actions. “And that woman too!” Zhanza’s gaze lingered on Valentina, who stood motionless among the corpses. She dared to act boldly, using limited forces to manipulate the large number of Red Ghosts at will. The total number of slain had exceeded a thousand, including 9 centurions who were at least level 5. Additionally, a Red Ghost chief was injured, while the thousandth captain barely escaped. What an impressive record! If not for having witnessed it firsthand, who would believe it was achieved by a group of sergeants (level 4) and 2–3 professionals above level 5, leading no more than 300 militia?
This time, Zhanza came along with the team and was assigned the task of overseeing the valley’s defenses. It sounded like a nominal role, but in reality, it wasn’t easy—there were risks at least. At the thought of this, Zhanza wanted to call the Red Ghosts “stupid brutes with big muscles but small brains” again. “Four or five hundred of them, and not a single one who knows how to form a human ladder? I’d just kill them all!”
Forming human ladders and overseeing the valley’s defenses were meant to prevent exactly this. Unfortunately, the Red Ghosts panicked due to the surprise attack, and by the time they reacted, thick smoke had already risen—they hadn’t used nor thought of such a tactic at all.
What Zhanza wanted most was for the guard team to suffer heavy losses despite winning, but once again he was disappointed. Seven dead and 11 injured, including Nio—such casualties were negligible compared to their achievements and were entirely within the guard team’s capacity to handle.

Yet, Root’s visit was not entirely fruitless. First, he reaffirmed that there was indeed something suspicious about Neo. The ability to reduce a Red Ghost Centurion to ashes in just 30 seconds was so terrifying that it made Root shudder, and it also dissipated his plan to abduct Neo while he was injured. “This guy has too many secrets. If treated as an ordinary Level 4 professional, he would die in the most humiliating way possible,” Root analyzed and concluded about Neo. After all, he had seen for himself how quickly Neo stabilized his injuries and how bright his eyes remained.

The second gain was that he roughly determined the strength and number of members in the Gale Team. “The volume of construction work and the traces of tree felling are both sources of information. The core of the Gale Team is indeed a bunch of lowly sergeants! Manmoris is really willing to invest—according to Frey’s market rate, the daily hiring cost for an ordinary Level 4 non-magical professional is around 25–30 gold, with higher amounts for those with strong special skills or unique races.”

Of course, if Neo knew Root’s second judgment, he would be delighted to see Root continue down this wrong path. Neo + Van Rending = a Gale Team dominated by Level 4 professionals—a very profitable deal.

“Of course, it’s not just the Gale Team; there’s also the supply team! Otherwise, they wouldn’t have enough strength to carry out such a bold and reckless attack on Wurtzburg. Wait…” Thinking of the newly formed Gale Supply Team, Root had a sudden idea. He slapped his thigh. “That’s it! You bunch of battlefield cockroaches (a derogatory term for mercenaries who make a living with swords)—I know how you handle the wounded!”

Root realized this was an excellent opportunity. The Gale Team’s location was hard to pinpoint, they were highly unpredictable, and, as it stood, they were also highly exclusive. But the supply team should be easier to find. He wasn’t idle all the time; he knew at least half of the members of the supply team, who were mostly troublemakers with strong presences in the team, making them easy to investigate.

“The supply team often interacts with the migration group and carries wounded people—they can’t just wander around. Yes, that’s it. The opportunity has indeed arrived.” Root had already made up his mind: send an urgent report first to get his forces on standby, then, as soon as he gathered enough information, he could capture them all at once.

“Neo is injured and can’t escape, and the supply team’s strength is utterly insignificant!” Root clenched his fist tightly. He finally saw a glimmer of hope of leaving the migration group. To be honest, spending every day smiling at a bunch of uncultured, brutish countrymen had made Root feel stupid.

“Instructor, how poetic of you—reaping a great victory yet enjoying solitude here all by yourself…”

Hearing this coquettish voice, Root felt all the little passion and joy he had accumulated vanish instantly, replaced by an urge to explode, almost showing on his face. “Damn it! She’s back! This damned woman is really persistent!” he thought angrily, though his expression showed 30% surprise and 70% flattery. “Your Highness, your precious life…”

Unlike those who are rooted and cannot be attacked or cursed, Sarug is a killer who dares to murder. When it entered the territory of Edrith, it could bring over 2,000 subordinates with it, but now nearly 70% of them have been lost. Undoubtedly, from the perspective of surviving the winter through plundering, it has completely failed. Even if they had to eat their own kind to survive the winter, about 300 would be enough. Moreover, those who died were all the strong and able-bodied members of the tribe. With Morthok surrounded by enemies, weakness would lead to relentless attacks. It is said that this winter will be difficult, but judging by the current situation, it’s not just winter that will be tough. Or rather, for the Bone Clan, a crisis as severe as a winter will persist for a very long time. Just thinking about such a future makes Sarug worried. “It’s all because of those cunning and despicable humans!” Sarug roared in public. Simple scapegoating psychology played a role in its crude thinking, and Sarug could be considered intelligent among both humans and beasts. “Kill those cunning humans!” Most of the surviving centurions knew the situation wasn’t that simple, but the members of the Bone Clan never had the habit of admitting mistakes. Besides, their leader Sarug remained powerful. Under such circumstances, no one would dare to stand up for justice and criticize Sarug, as they all knew what consequences that would bring. Sarug turned to the human envoy who was being escorted. “Your plans and predictions have utterly failed. As a result, our brave people have lost their lives. Someone must bear the blame.” The human envoy, either out of boldness or believing he understood Sarug’s temperament, calmly said, “May I ask, Sarug Bi, what do you plan to do to me? Turn me into soup and share it?” Sarug placed his hands on the table, leaned forward, and showed his sharp white teeth. “Your suggestion isn’t bad!” “That would be a real shame! If you turn me into soup, you and your subordinates can only have a small spoonful each. But if I stay alive, even with only 500 warriors at your side, you can still sweep through Morthok after the winter.” “You’re lying!” The first to express anger was the centurion who had escaped. He knew very well the tribe’s rules: anger needed to be vented, and responsibility needed to be taken. If no suitable scapegoat could be found, he might also be sacrificed. “Bluffing!” “Without warriors, what do we have to sweep through Morthok?” … The remaining Red Ghost centurions also spoke up. In their minds, the most basic concept was that numbers made strength—500 warriors wasn’t even enough to start a proper war. “Hmph!” Sarug snorted and waved his hand to silence the noise from these Red Ghost leaders. He glared darkly at the human envoy. “Are you trying to deceive me with another set of lies?” The human envoy turned to look at the two Red Ghost guards escorting him. “Let me go, you fools! Are you worried I’ll grow wings and fly away? Or do you think I can escape in front of Sarug Bi?” The two Red Ghosts looked angry but dared not act, and could only look awkwardly at Sarug. Sarug raised his head, and the two Red Ghosts released the human envoy and stepped back.

The human envoy rubbed his aching arm, nodded to Sarug, then said, “Sarugbi, are you familiar with the Iron Cross Knights?”
The envoy’s question caused all the Red Demons in the hall, including Sarug, to frown. Among the alien races living in Monstoke, few had not heard of the Iron Cross Knights. Many preferred to call this human knight order the “Mowing Squad,” as if its existence was solely to reduce the population of the alien races in Monstoke. Every three to five years, they would invade Monstoke, causing heavy losses to the aliens. The barbaric alien races harbored deep hatred toward humans and their allies, largely due to the bloody atrocities committed by the Iron Cross Knights over time.
“Despicable humans! Are you trying to insult our Codim?” The centurion tried once again to stir up anger.
“Of course not. I’m saying that if you know anything about the Iron Cross Knights, you must be well aware of their heavy cavalry charges. The Warriors of Blood and Bone are fully capable of wearing such heavy armor, and I can provide that armor along with specialized trainers,” the human envoy said, turning back to Sarug. “Imagine, Sarugbi, what would happen if your heavy cavalry charged through the enemy’s ranks, breaking them apart and filling them with fear? The new generation of young warriors could easily carry out ambush missions, and you would secure victory after victory.”
The human envoy wasn’t completely bluffing. After all, in the wilderness of Monstoke, the most common form of combat between alien races and tribes was a head-on clash where the bravest won. Without any tricks, heavy cavalry could indeed break through any enemy formation, as proven time and again by the Iron Cross Knights.
Even if Sarug was slow to understand, he could still realize that if what the human envoy said was true, the Blood and Bone tribe could achieve great things when returning to Monstoke in the spring. Just one decisive victory by their heavy cavalry would be enough to intimidate their rival neighbors.
“That sounds good, but why should I believe you can do it?”
“The answer is simple,” the human envoy replied. “I’ll send an urgent message to our headquarters. We still have two deals to finalize, right? We can deliver the armor in two shipments. To be honest, we’ve long wanted to find a strong partner among the great Codim tribe. We’ve been working on custom heavy armor for Codim for nearly two years, and we already have a thousand sets. It won’t be difficult to allocate some of them. The brave Blood and Bone tribe is one of our top candidates. If you and your tribe can prove your worth, we’re willing to invest more to secure larger, mutually beneficial deals in the future.”
“A thousand sets! I want a thousand sets!” Sarug demanded boldly.

“Just kill me then!” the human envoy said frankly. “Your demands far exceed what I’m authorized to do. 500 sets—200 at first, 300 the second time—that’s already the limit. Sarugbi, please forgive my bluntness. Even to get those 500 sets, you’ll need to keep your subordinates in check and forbid them from revealing anything about the defeats in the two wars and the heavy casualties. As for why, I think you understand.”
“800 sets!” Sarug indeed understood what the human envoy was trying to say—strength meant power and bargaining chips. Yet he still wanted to fight hard, after all, a set of heavy armor cost at least 200 dinars, and it wasn’t just a matter of money.
“500 sets!”
“700 sets!” Sarug stepped back.
“500 sets!” The human envoy refused to budge.
“600 sets. Below that, I’d rather drink your broth.” Sarug gritted his teeth.
“Alright!” The human envoy compromised, saying helplessly, “Two transactions, 300 sets each. We’ll waive the transaction fee because we need to provide services like instructors, which are costly.”
“But you must deliver all the food and technology you promised!”
“Hmm, fine!” …
A new deal was struck. The human envoy saved himself. On his way back to his room after leaving the hall, one of his confidants asked, “We don’t have any heavy armor for humans or beasts at all.”
“Of course. Who would do such a tedious and unprofitable job? They think 1,000 sets is too much, even for just one set.”
“Then, my lord, you…”
The human envoy adjusted his single gold-rimmed glasses on his left eye and snorted coldly, “It’s proven that the Bone-Beast Orks are useless. During the transaction, let the Sandstone Orks take their place. I’m sure the Sandstone Orks will be happy to earn some food and extra money.”
Meanwhile, in the hall, the Red Ghost Centurion said, “Sarugbi, those cunning humans can’t be trusted. As you said before, our Bone-Beast race won’t abandon our heroic and fearless style to learn their schemes.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Sarug’s gaze swept over his subordinates. “One lesson is enough. I won’t be deceived by those cunning humans’ flattery again. In this transaction, we’ll kill their escorts, seize all their armor, then drive those flesh slaves away, taking our loot back to Morthok. Tell your men that those who show bravery will be eligible for heavy armor. Also, announce this news only on the way to the trading site. Understood?”
“Yes!”