Knows Too Much

Kloze brought Li Ang before a prisoner. He had apparently been a heavily armored infantryman, somewhat bald, but looked quite sturdy.

The poor fellow's face was pale, and one arm hung limply at his side—probably shattered in at least a comminuted fracture.

Perhaps it had even been ground to powder...

"Where did you get this helmet?"

Li Ang jabbed at the man's wound, drawing a cry of pain and a pleading look.

"...It hurts, it hurts... Please don't torture me, my lord. Young Master Foucher sponsored it half a month ago... The chainmail and weapons too."

The slightly balding infantryman confessed readily enough.

Naturally. There weren't that many tough men in the world. Even Meitengheim warriors had to bite down on pig trotters when getting treated for wounds, let alone a gang like the Crimson Brotherhood.

But Foucher again?

Had those pirates also been "sponsored" by Foucher?

No wonder those pirates had been roaming around on adventures instead of doing their proper business.

The Crimson Brotherhood, Gatu warlords, pirates—this bastard's business portfolio was quite broad!

Just what was this young master trying to do? Was he trying to unlock some kind of all-class villain achievement?

"So, you only came here half a month ago?"

Li Ang began making casual conversation, appearing approachable. He even tugged at the prisoner's collar and examined the wound on his shoulder before shaking his head sympathetically—the bone had been pulverized. That arm was beyond saving.

"Yes, my lord... I'm just an honest man. Please spare me. I'm willing to work for you..."

Seeing that Li Ang seemed to be "taking pity" on his injury, the slightly balding man's tone became respectful and humble.

"Mhm, mhm. When did you take those Gatu people to the village?"

Li Ang echoed his pleas while continuing to ask in an offhand manner, as though he were merely making conversation.

"About three or four days ago. A knight of the Horton Family took them there. We couldn't understand what those Gatu people were saying. My lord, can you let me go...?"

Li Ang smiled kindly. "Of course. I'll take you back to Long River Town in a while. Ansen! My doctor, come here..."

Ansen had been tending to several wounded Meitengheim people nearby. Hearing the call, he ran over, drenched in sweat.

"Ansen, take good care of them. Make sure none of them die."

Both Ansen and the slightly balding infantryman looked deeply reverent, as though neither had expected Li Ang to care so kindly about his prisoners.

The balding prisoner even began to feel that he might truly regain his freedom.

But then Li Ang began instructing Kloze beside him. "This fellow is very valuable now. Keep a close eye on him and don't let him run. If necessary, break his legs!"

Kloze nodded steadily and solemnly.

The poor prisoner's hopeful gaze instantly turned to despair...

Ansen shook his head with a sigh and returned to his work.

The Goddess really is watching over me, balding brother. You know too much!

Good thing I had Kloze and the others use hammers!

When Li Ang looked at the prisoners again, he already wore a calm and composed expression.

But his eyes had clearly lit up into the shape of gold coins—he had thought these prisoners were worthless, but now it seemed he could find buyers for them!

Originally, these Crimson Brotherhood men could not be sold to slave traders and could only waste food.

Even if they could be sold, they would not fetch much. None of them had particularly impressive skills or looks, and they were all disabled. Slave traders would not pay much for them—Meitengheim people were heavy-handed, and nearly every prisoner had a few broken bones.

But now, these prisoners seemed to have a buyer who would gladly purchase them at a high price—Earl Oden.

These prisoners knew about Duke Alma's collusion with the Gatu people. If they fell into Oden's hands, they should give the Earl a chance to bite back at Grand Duke Alma.

Although these Crimson Brotherhood scum were too insignificant to be presented in public, and their testimony might not be accepted officially, they could at least help Oden explain himself before the king and keep him from remaining so passive.

Li Ang felt that he could shear some wool again... Ahem, conduct another fair trade!

The prisoners were quickly sorted out. There were quite a few of them: eighteen in total.

In the system, a line had appeared under the "Prisoners" section of the party list—Lion Territory Civilian Captive (18).

As expected, the prisoner section only had half the functionality as well. Like the companion section, it had no convenient options at all. Anything he wanted to do had to follow real-world logic, such as releasing them or speaking with them.

Moreover, regardless of what troop type they had originally been, they now shared only one general designation, though they seemed to be divided by regional culture.

That was reasonable enough. These prisoners were now wearing only their underwear, making it impossible to tell what troop types they had once been—Kloze had stripped away all of their equipment.

Li Ang guessed that if he captured nobles from a particular kingdom, such as knights or knight attendants, they would probably only be listed as "Noble Prisoner of Such-and-Such Territory."

After the mercenaries gradually finished clearing the battlefield and regrouped, Li Ang began counting the casualties.

The army's overall losses were very small. Meitengheim heavy armor offered excellent protection. Although several burly men had been wounded during the charge, none of the Meitengheim Infantry had died.

Yet the Mercenary Crossbowmen, who should not have suffered any losses, had instead suffered a death.

Yes, war always brought casualties. Even in this battle, which had not been particularly intense, one unlucky fellow had still died.

The crossbowmen had remained in the rear and should not have been in danger, but this man had unfortunately been struck in the face by an enemy archer.

He had died without a sound.

It really was bad luck. The enemy only had a few archers, and they had been using crude wooden hunting bows. They were merely ordinary militiamen.

Furthermore, the enemy had been caught by surprise. Apart from the few heavily armored infantrymen who had blocked Li Ang when he began questioning them, the other enemies had not been fully prepared for battle.

But that was how battlefields were. A sudden volley of stray arrows—even an arrow that had missed another target—could end up taking your life.

Mercenaries lived by the blade and were accustomed to life and death, so naturally they would not mourn simply because someone had died.

Li Ang alone observed a brief moment of silence for the unfortunate crossbowman. Then he had the mercenaries properly prepare the dead man's body. He planned to have a carpenter make a coffin and give the fallen man a proper burial.

He felt somewhat guilty—he had not even noticed that someone had died. As a commander, that was unforgivable.

Of course, that was mainly because he had gone off halfway through to chase Juan.

After a brief silence, Li Ang set aside the crossbowman's belongings separately, intending to have Lesley's caravan send them back to the dead man's hometown in a few days.

Li Ang displayed unprecedented generosity at this moment—he declared that he would pay to bury any brothers who died in the future, and would provide substantial compensation to their families.

If anyone suffered an incurable disabling injury, he would also pay a sum of support money so that those who had fought for him could maintain a basic livelihood afterward.

What modern people considered only natural was immediately met with the gratitude of all his subordinates.