Chapter 23: The Gale

“What do you think of this?” Neio asked as they were already in the large tent. Neio had roasted meat with sauce prepared by Hagen, while the team members tasted strong sour fruit wine—a part of the Migration Team’s repayment for the contributions of the Gale Squad. As the captain, Neio didn’t forbid the team members from drinking, with only one requirement: moderation.

“We can’t hide forever; we can’t rely on luck,” Boglem spoke first. As the recognized smartest person in the squad, many trusted Boglem’s wisdom, especially those from Mathuya.

“The most important thing is time. The Migration Team has already wasted far more time than planned on the road,” Barret added. “While we stay idle, the barbarian aliens keep moving. Now that Wurzburg has been taken, I think they’ve completed the sweep of the main routes and are now targeting gaps and remote areas.”

The team members nodded again—this possibility was indeed high. They finished eating the fattiest pieces of meat, still craving more, unwilling to let go.

Boglem continued, “I believe that as time goes by, more and more aliens will be freed up to move toward the northern and southern edges of the Erdrit Domain. The longer we delay, the more dangerous the Migration Team will be.”

Barret and Boglem’s analysis weighed heavily on everyone, making the atmosphere in the tent somewhat oppressive. Limited by their knowledge and experience, most of the team members lacked a broad perspective and in-depth analytical skills in areas outside their expertise. Moreover, lacking proper training, they were easily influenced by their teammates’ emotions—a common issue among second-tier forces, such as local troops and militias.

Neio continued to savor the food slowly, taking a sip of the sour fruit wine. He smiled and said, “Is there anyone else who wants to share their opinion? Speak freely. What, are you too shy to speak like a girl? Oh, right, that little iron rod won’t appear at this moment.”

“Hehe…” The laughter noticeably lightened the mood.

Amidst the laughter, Dick said, “It seems we’ve overlooked a very important group: the Alliance troops and the duchy armies.”

“Mm, good point,” Neio said, stopping mid-bite as he looked at everyone. “I think Dick’s words represent many people’s thoughts. I interpret them as a question: If the Eagles and West Winds have fallen into a trap and the Erdrit Domain is in trouble, where are the duchies and the Alliance? Even for the sake of black iron products and wine, they should help us out, right?”

The team members laughed again. After laughing, they reflected on Neio’s words—indeed, that was exactly the case. In Frey, the connection between life and money was far more severe than in the other two camps, and the concept of trade was deeply ingrained in the Frey people’s minds.

Neio continued, “Speaking of the Alliance and duchy armies, let’s first hear what Vitz has to say. By the way, I’d like to share my personal view: those who know you best are often your long-term rivals. So once you’ve taken them down, don’t rush to kill them.”

Boglem and the others pondered. Neio’s words made sense.

“The boss told me to speak, so I’ll say a few words!” Vitz downed a big gulp of his drink—a so-called secret brew made with fireweed and several other herbs—extremely harsh, its intensity comparable to high-proof liquor. Wiping the droplets of alcohol from his beard, Vitz shouted, “Bandits and soldiers are natural enemies, especially non-local armies. When they come, they really mean to suppress us, no holding back. But they’re persistent—not in the sense of delaying on the road, but in lingering in their bases. I remember once we got word that the duchy was sending troops to suppress us; everyone was very nervous. My old boss, Black Tooth, suggested we hide for a while to avoid attention. But we fucking hid for over half a year with no sign of them coming. People couldn’t hold back any longer and came out of the forests. When they arrived, we wiped them out.”

Borglem asked, “Could it be they arrived late out of strategic considerations?”

“Yes, exactly!” In the members’ memories, Vitz always seemed a bit dim-witted, so they found Borglem’s speculation more plausible.

Vitz spat dismissively and said, “You really think highly of them. Some bullshit strategy. Later, someone specifically inquired. The real reason was that a few leaders of that army got into a fight with another group of young nobles over prostitutes and ended up injured, bedridden for over half a year.”

“No way! That’s acceptable?”

“Damn, is that true?”

“You could replace the commanders or even switch to another army.”

Nio raised his hand to silence everyone. “Vitz is looking from the opposing side. Next, let’s hear from Mah to get a different perspective.”

Mah wasn’t shy. After thinking for a moment, he said, “As far as I know, the allied forces will appear when those above think it’s time, and they’ll win when it’s time to win.”

“What does that mean?” Many members were confused.

“Politics, interests,” Mah explained. “Take this incident as an example. The current Grand Duke of Ensbass is ambitious, but Viscount Erdrit doesn’t support using his territory as a bridgehead to advance westward into Monstoke.” Mah spoke with confidence, without the involuntary hesitation common among commoners when talking about powerful nobles.

“Shh!” Borglem whistled. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mah, but he hadn’t expected Mah to know such high-level secrets.

Barrett, who was warming himself by the fire, asked doubtfully, “Once the duchy takes Monstoke, Erdrit will become a secondary safe territory like Hilfanis did before—more secure, able to attract more business investment and settlers, and able to drastically cut expenses on local defense forces. Isn’t that good?”

Mah smiled. “Erdrit’s territory has always followed the special policies promised by the previous Grand Duke of Ensbass for remote areas. It also has several major gray deals with the alien tribes in Monstoke. More money, less tax—what’s the harm in taking a little risk? Don’t forget where the Oliviers’ true focus lies. Growing a few fields inland and running some mediocre businesses might suffice to cover the Oliviers’ expenses, but it’s far from enough to reach higher levels.”

Reaching higher levels involves costly activities such as bribery, recruitment, and maintaining an army—things that ordinary families simply cannot afford. For most of the members involved, politics and interests are overwhelming concepts; their natural lack of interest and confidence leads them to focus only on simple outcomes. For example, Viscount Edderit certainly doesn’t want his territory to become a peaceful backwater, which is something everyone can understand. Only a few people can grasp all the complexities involved right away—people like Boglem, Barret, Chebman, Bichir, and Dick can barely manage it, while Nio observes and remembers everything.

“Edderit is tied to the Oliver family’s finances, so they should take active action, right? The famous Black Scorpion Mercenary Group is backed by the Oliver family—it’s an open secret.” Dick, who had wandered in many places in his youth, had seen quite a bit.

Mach said, “Edderit isn’t just the Oliver family’s source of income. Moreover, aristocratic families like the Olivers hold many advantages and can employ various strategies. In the face of emergencies, they won’t just react passively but will first consider whether to use the situation to achieve goals that would otherwise be unattainable.”

She then listed them one by one: “One of the Oliver family’s sources of wealth is winemaking. The core isn’t in Edderit territory; they only need the grapes from the southern part of Edderit. But the main competitors in winemaking are the barons and lords of Edderit territory, whose wealth lies here—including workshops, equipment, technicians, and storage facilities. This creates a clear distinction between large merchants and small traders: some can afford losses, while others can’t.”

“Oh…” Now everyone understood.

Mach continued, “In the northern mining areas of Edderit territory, the Olivers own three of the best hematite deposits. Not only is the ore of high quality with various accompanying minerals, but the terrain is favorable, infrastructure is well-developed, and defense capabilities are top-notch. I think everyone knows this. There are also some things you might not know: within just two years, the Olivers made four large investments in these three mining areas. Veterans from the Black Scorpion Mercenary Group train the local militia, and commanders above the squad leader level go on missions with the mercenaries to gain combat experience. Though they’re called militia, their overall armament is no less than that of first-class regular armies. Moreover, in the largest mining town, Canvis, there’s a secondary air route.”

Hearing this, almost all the members were deeply impressed. Dick said, “When problems arise in Edderit territory, the Black Scorpion Mercenary Group can be dropped in Canvis at the fastest speed.”

Boglem added, “With such a hidden fortress that can rival Solis City, Viscount Edderit won’t flee to another place like others would.”

Bichir continued, “Viscount Edderit will wait in Canvis for the opportunity to launch a major counterattack.”

Barrett continued his analysis along this line: “After that, he will condemn those lords who failed in their duties with evidence at hand and take back their territories. He will also criticize the alliance and duchy for inadequate rescue efforts and demand more compensation and favorable policies after the disaster.”
Borglem added, “It’s possible the Olivier family has already made plans—on one hand, to delay the arrival of the allied forces, and on the other, to secretly deal with the barbarian tribes, staging a show for the world at the right time.”
Mach nodded. “They could even go further—such as providing maps and intelligence to the tribes, then secretly bidding to buy people at low prices. They might also stage a false war with the tribes; while the tribes kick open the doors of other mining towns, they arrive as saviors, rescuing the people from dire straits, before taking over and settling the miners properly.”
Many members were stunned, some incredulous, and asked weakly, “Would those barbarian tribes cooperate that much?”
Mach replied, “Barbarians also have wisdom, ideals, and long-term plans. They don’t just like dried human flesh—they also enjoy delicious food and want to master skills like metallurgy, leatherworking, and textiles. With enough food, warm clothing, sharp weapons, and sturdy armor, their tribes become stronger…”
“Damn, if that’s really the case, this family is absolutely vile!” Many members couldn’t help cursing.
Vitz chuckled. “My old boss once said that the difference between rulers and bandits is that rulers dress better, have darker hearts, and are even more shameless.”
Borglem said meaningfully, “It seems Mach is just a codename.”
Mach raised his eyebrows. “A person’s name is originally just a codename.”
Nio stuffed the last piece of sausage into his mouth, raised his hand, and drew everyone’s attention. “Alright, there are things we can’t change with our strength, so we shouldn’t worry too much about them. What we need is pragmatism, not resentment.”
That remark amused everyone again.
Raising his right index finger, Nio emphasized loudly, “I’ve said it many times: We don’t expect pity or charity. We get what we want on our own—just like what we eat, wear, and use now all comes from our own hands, and in the future, it will also be shaped by these hands!”
This statement was familiar to everyone. Frey’s ancestors had upheld similar ideals, striving forward and building their homeland with their own hands to create a better future…
First, there was no resistance; second, they were all young people with passion to realize their own value. Moreover, the tangible achievements in food, clothing, shelter, and transportation over the past few days had greatly boosted the members’ confidence. So, with Nio’s clever encouragement, they all responded, “On our own, on our own!”
What Nio wanted wasn’t just a sense of self-reliance but also willingness to fight alongside him. By taking action step by step, these young people had experienced the daily life of a professional over the past few days. Although Nio still thought they were a bit inexperienced, facing the upcoming battle, he knew it was time to clarify some principles for them.

“Brothers, what’s our slogan every morning now?”
“We are carnivores!” the members replied in unison.
“And what do you shout before going to bed at night?”
“Neo is our leader!” they answered without hesitation.
“Hmm!” Neo met their eyes one by one and declared loudly, “Carnivores is our goal, and I am the means to achieve it. Follow me, and let’s shape our own future together. This future might not look as fancy as what we have now, but it will be more comfortable and better suited to us. Are you interested?”
Neo continued, “Think it over first; there’s no need to answer right away. To eat meat means seeing blood—either the enemy’s or our own. Once you make a choice, a life of hardship, suffering, injury, and even death awaits you. Those who just want to be ordinary people and live a simple life can refuse now—no one will look down on you.”
“I’m not good at much other than fighting to the death. I’ll follow the leader!” Vitz was the first to speak up.
“I want to become a true professional. It’s more manly to die on the battlefield than in a hospital bed,” said Barret.
“I’ve run enough.” A dagger danced in Mah’s right hand. Most people could hardly imagine that the hand usually seen holding a brush to brush large animals could be so agile.
“I think I’ve known what I wanted from the start. Meat!” Boglem said lazily, resting his hands behind his head.
Dick had no attachments, Chebman felt following Neo was a better investment, Chiel admired Neo’s character and methods, while Tony and Hagen were grateful for Neo’s recognition… One after another, the members expressed their willingness to follow Neo. In the end, not a single one chose to back out.
Neo smiled at the members. “Now, you’re truly a family with shared ideals. There are a few things I need to make clear here. Our choice isn’t simply about putting down hoes and plows to pick up swords; from now on, we’re breaking away from our old affiliations. We no longer belong to Edrith—we belong to ourselves, to this small team, Storm.”
Upon hearing Neo’s words, Boglem and a few others showed an air of knowing it all along, while the rest were shocked by the implications—freedom could be so absolute, and the well-known Storm Squad was actually these people right here.
“That’s right. You all guessed correctly. Storm didn’t exist before, but from today onward, it is born. Now, let me announce Storm’s basic principles.”

Nio said loudly, “Firstly, we are free. We are a small mercenary group. Our relationship with Tures and Mathuya is one of employment, of transaction. Some of you might say that your families are still in the migration group. That’s true, but they belong to us. They are merely staying with the migration group, and everything they need—food, drink—comes from what we earn. That’s the reward for our hard work. As the leader, I swear on what matters most to me: your families are my families. If I have meat to eat, they won’t go hungry. Whether my brothers have returned to the embrace of the earth or not. This oath is one that anyone in our group must take when becoming a leader. If they fail to keep it, everyone has the right to overthrow them.”

Nio continued, “Our group adheres to ‘absolute competition.’ All positions, including mine, are open to those who are capable of challenging them…”

Nio had been prepared for this moment. The basic rules consisted of three main parts: survival, struggle, and the group. There wasn’t much content, and it could all be summarized in concise words—these were the group’s principles. Eventually, they were signed by everyone, becoming an actual charter that all members had to remember and follow.

“Boss, this path isn’t easy. It’s nothing like before, when you said something and we just followed…”

Nio smiled at Boglem. “I understand what you mean. No path is easy. The key is whether one is willing to face it. If they are, then even death is meaningful.” Saying this, he raised his cup and said to everyone, “Come on, brothers, raise your cups! A man is praised for being bold while alive, and for dying meaningfully after death. I think such a life is without regret. For this sake of having no regrets, let’s drink!”

“Drink!”