Under the Tongue

Except for the Big Boss personally singled out by Sean, the remaining river bandit prisoners were roughly herded by the soldiers into the hold. The Big Boss, under the escort of two soldiers, changed into a clean set of clothes before being brought to Sean's cabin.

On the deck, Thor and Phil were leaning against the railing, gasping for air. As they calmed down from the guilt of their first kills, they gradually steadied themselves. Exchanging a glance, they rose and headed toward Sean's cabin.

After all, as Sean's squire and servant, they needed to stay by his side at all times, ready to receive his orders or fulfill their duty to protect his safety.

Soon they arrived outside Sean's cabin. Thor knocked first, and after Sean's "Come in," they pushed open the door. Inside, Sean was alone.

"Young Master, we're back." Thor and Phil bowed to Sean, and Thor spoke for them.

"How are you? Feeling alright?" Sean smiled as he looked them over, his tone gentle.

"Thank you, Young Master. We're fine now." Thor again spoke for both. Then he added, "Young Master, thank you for looking after us. We understand... Thank you, Young Master." Phil nodded in agreement.

"Good that you understand. It wasn't for nothing." Sean nodded slightly to Thor and Phil.

After all, one was his Knight Squire, the other a potential squire in training. Naturally, he needed them to see blood early and understand the cruelty of war.

"Sir, you seem to have some special thoughts about that bandit leader..." Phil, who had been standing behind Thor, suddenly stepped forward and asked respectfully, his tone carrying a hint of something unspoken.

"Hm." Sean nodded, about to explain, when a knock came at the cabin door. His expression sharpened briefly before returning to normal. "Come in..."

The door creaked open, and two soldiers escorted the Big Boss, now in clean clothes, waiting respectfully at the threshold.

Sean waved his hand, and the soldiers brought the Big Boss inside. They saluted Sean, and one said, "Sir, as ordered, the bandit leader has been brought."

"Good work. You can go rest." Sean said amiably.

"Yes, sir!" The soldiers saluted again and backed out of the cabin, leaving the nervous Big Boss behind. With a soft click, the door closed.

Now only Sean, Thor, Phil, and the Big Boss remained. The moment the door shut, the Big Boss could no longer hold himself together. His legs gave way, and he knelt before Sean.

"Death, or life?" Sean asked mildly, pleased to see the Big Boss wisely kneeling.

"S-Sir... I... I want to live..." Though Sean's tone was gentle, the words made the Big Boss tremble. His two subordinates had heard the same words on the deck, and their bodies weren't even cold yet. He dreaded hearing them again.

"Good. I like honest men... You understand." Sean smiled, his tone brooking no argument.

"Sir, I... I will be honest. Whatever you ask, I am at your service..." The Big Boss slowly overcame his fear, even adding a hint of flattery at the end.

"Then, as a good start, please introduce yourself..." Sean's tone was as if he were at a banquet, warmly and politely exchanging pleasantries with unfamiliar nobles.

"Sir, my name is Vinson. I'm a minor leader in the Gil River Bandit Group..." Vinson quickly introduced himself.

"Wait. Did you say the Gil River Bandit Group? The one bold enough to kidnap a Noble Cadet?" Sean interrupted, surprised.

"Y-Yes, sir..." Vinson replied awkwardly.

"Didn't you know the Garrison was sent to suppress you? Why walk into the trap?" Sean asked, puzzled.

"Sir, you don't know..." Vinson forced a bitter smile, reluctant. After a long hesitation, he explained, "Our boss... uh... Gil, the leader of the Gil River Bandit Group, he... he sent me to ambush the Garrison's Grain Ship, to... to cut off their supplies so he could buy time..."

When Vinson fell silent, Sean didn't press. Soon enough, Vinson laid out the reason. After hearing it, Sean found it both ridiculous and exasperating. Were they that naive, or did they think the Garrison commander was as stupid as they were?

A sudden idea struck Sean, and he smiled. "So, dear Mr. Vinson, it seems your leader—Gil, is it?" Vinson nodded. "He must really like you... so much that he wants you dead. How touching." Sean's face showed undisguised mockery as he watched Vinson's expression darken.

Thor and Phil couldn't hold back a snicker. They let out a strange laugh, looking at Vinson with pity. Only when Sean's gaze swept over them did they stifle their laughter.

Vinson felt terrible. He recalled the meeting in the hall. Gil and the other leaders had all unanimously pushed him for this mission, shamelessly claiming it was a sign of trust. Damn it, did they think he was an idiot?

"Sir, actually..." Vinson hesitated, wanting to say something. He knew the truth might make things worse, but then again, his life was no longer his own. What could be worse? He steeled himself. "Sir, the one who originally kidnapped the Noble Cadet... was me and my men..."

Sean's mouth fell open in surprise. Thor and Phil were stunned. They couldn't fathom such stupidity. In their view, challenging the noble class that ruled the empire was unthinkable.

Sean recovered and asked, half-laughing, "So this... uh... critically important mission fell to you?" He made an exaggerated expression, as if praising Vinson's luck.

"Yes, sir. Please... grant me a quick death." Vinson gritted his teeth, closing his eyes in resignation.

"If you satisfy me, I can grant that request. But first, tell me: is my unfortunate classmate still alive? If so, where is he?" Sean considered briefly and offered his terms.

"Sir, the Noble Cadet is alive, in the bandit camp..." Vinson answered promptly.

"Good. I also want you to tell me about your bandit group's specifics, the camp layout, and the guards watching my classmate. The more detail, the better." Sean finally voiced the idea that had flashed through his mind.

"Sir... our camp has about 400 bandits and over 600 women, children, and elderly..." Vinson paused after mentioning the non-combatants.

"Go on. I'll personally ask the commander to spare the women and children." Seeing Vinson's hesitation, Sean assured him. He could promise this because the Imperial Nobles looked down on those who slaughtered non-combatants—it marked a person as cruel.

"Thank you, sir! Thank you!" Vinson exclaimed gratefully. Urged by Sean, he continued without reservation. "The camp is in a hidden bend in the middle of the Lingnan River, with many outposts (abbreviated)... As for your classmate, he's in a cell at the camp's edge, guarded by 20 bandits rotating every six hours..." Vinson detailed everything.

"Strange... From what you say, your last raid was odd. Was there another purpose?" Sean, having gotten the intel, noticed something off and asked.

"Sir, that wasn't our raid. The Max Bandit Group from the Southern Wilderness Mountains paid our boss to kidnap an old blacksmith named Tack..." Vinson's tone carried regret and resentment.

"A blacksmith? Who is he?" Sean asked curiously. He'd heard of the Max Bandit Group—one of the largest in the Southern Wilderness Region. Their leader, Max, was said to be very strong. He was intrigued by a blacksmith who could interest Max.

"Sir, he's just an old blacksmith. Besides scrap metal, he's so poor I'd be embarrassed to rob him..." Vinson said what he knew.

Sean realized Vinson couldn't know more, so he changed the subject. "If you help us rescue the kidnapped Noble Cadet... uh... did he see you?" Sean suddenly thought of something and shifted the topic.

"Sir, you mean? Ah... no, he didn't see me. After being taken, he... fainted from fright..." Vinson replied, a mix of confusion and hope.

"Good. Then are you willing to help us rescue the Noble Cadet kidnapped by the bandit group—no, by the leader Gil?" Sean asked, a bit disappointed in his classmate but more confident Vinson would cooperate.

"Sir, you mean..." Vinson couldn't believe it. Sean was clearly pinning the kidnapping on his former boss, Gil. Hope for survival surged in his heart.

"Yes. If you wholeheartedly help us rescue the trapped noble, I can plead for leniency. Of course, that's on the condition that my classmate hasn't suffered irreversible harm..." Sean confirmed, laying out the terms.

Despite the conditions, Vinson eagerly agreed. "Sir, I... I'm willing. You... you are merciful..."

Vinson was almost incoherent with joy at the chance to live. He'd forgotten how Sean had casually executed his men on the deck, and how he'd cursed that demon in his heart.

Such is the fickleness of the world. The one you curse with all your being, wishing them dead, might become the lifeline that saves you the very next moment.