Plan Change

Successfully killed a player. Gained 4 points, seized 1 point, and gained an additional 2 Agility.

Updated character sheet:

Ian: Strength 26, Agility 24, Willpower 2

Skills: Etiquette Basics, Common Tongue Literacy Basics, Swordsmanship Advanced, Riding Advanced, Lance Intermediate

Attribute Points: 0

Skill Points: 0

Points: 17

Ian walked out of the cellar with his blood-dripping sword, greedily breathing in the fresh air outside.

Although he was far more practiced than the first time he had killed someone, the moment Ian slit this unfamiliar player's throat, he still felt the urge to vomit.

He did not like that feeling.

He felt caught in a strange contradiction. On one side was the sense of accomplishment that came from being able to decide another person's life or death at will; on the other was his instinctive revulsion toward such behavior.

So this was what it meant to have it both ways. I really am hypocritical, Ian mocked himself inwardly.

"If killing makes you uncomfortable, I can handle it for you," Roar said, seeming to see through Ian's thoughts.

"No." Ian shook his head. "No, I have to do it myself." There would be many more things like this in the future.

For some reason, he thought of what Eddard Stark had once said—those who passed a death sentence should carry it out themselves. If you took a man's life, you should at least look into his eyes and hear his final words. If you could not do that, then perhaps he did not deserve to die. Once a ruler hid behind the scenes and paid executioners to do the deed, he would soon forget what death was.

The next moment, Ian laughed.

He was not doing it himself to remember what "death" was. He simply wanted the full kill reward.

After taking a deep breath, Ian prepared to sheathe his sword.

But Roar handed him a piece of linen. "Wipe the blood off the blade first. Otherwise, it will congeal inside the scabbard. Not only will it rust the sword, you might not even be able to draw it later," he reminded him.

Really? Killing someone and immediately sheathing the sword always looked pretty cool in movies. Ian gave an embarrassed laugh and committed the bit of common sense to memory. Then he took the linen Roar offered, carefully wiped the blood from the sword, and only then slid it back into its scabbard.

"Ser Lucian, you killed him?" Denzel, who had been waiting upstairs the entire time, finally had a chance to speak. "Wasn't he the prisoner you wanted?"

"He was, mate. But these scum do not need to be escorted back to King's Landing for trial. I have already sentenced them to death." Ian patted Denzel on the shoulder. "You did an excellent job. Come to my room later. I'll give you an extra reward of 10 Gold Dragons."

"That is nearly two-thirds of our commission this time, Ser. I don't know how to describe your generosity, but I assure you, you have earned our devotion."

It's money that earned your devotion.

"You don't know this, but that fellow you executed just now tried to turn us against you. We beat him senseless on the spot, and he behaved after that. What a joke! He wanted us to betray you? Even if the Seven themselves appeared before us, they'd still get that beating!"

At those words, Ian's eyes narrowed instantly. "Bring Ser Gransen and Dirty Joke to my room. I need to change the plan," he ordered Denzel.

Ian had noticed that Gransen did not think highly of Dorian, so he had only left Gransen's mercenaries behind with Dorian to help him reorganize the mercenary group, while bringing the traitor himself back.

After giving Denzel his orders, Ian returned to his new room, a luxurious single room at the end of the corridor.

Following the instructions Ian had given before leaving yesterday, Denzel and the others had bricked up the original door to the luxurious room, then opened a doorway in the wall it shared with the neighboring room.

Ian's arrangement was for himself to stay in the inner room, while Roar and Keith stayed in the outer one. That way, anyone who wanted to enter his room would first have to get past the two knights.

The advantage of this arrangement was that it guaranteed his absolute safety while sparing him from having to endure the two men's murderous snoring.

The renovations were extremely crude due to the lack of time, but Ian was already quite satisfied.

A few minutes later, Denzel and the other two entered Ian's room.

"Ser, I thought you would rest immediately." Ser Gransen spoke first. Ian had expected him to be dissatisfied about having his men left with Dorian, but he was still as respectful as before.

All he could say was that the man's ability to endure was truly suited to being a traitor. The nickname Ian had given him had not been wasted.

"You said earlier that you wanted to change the plan? Did something happen with the Black Falcon Mercenary Group?" Denzel still did not know what had happened at Black Falcon Mercenary Castle. He had just asked Ser Gransen, but Gransen had kept his mouth shut.

"It has nothing to do with that." Ian shook his head. He had decided to change the plan because of what Denzel had just reported—that player had tried to turn his mercenaries against him.

That was a very frightening matter.

The player just now had clearly not been much of a speaker, which was why his attempt had failed.

But what if a silver-tongued player showed up? Although Ian was ninety-nine percent certain that his mercenaries would not be swayed so long as he always offered three times the other party's price, he could not ignore Murphy's Law.

He would rather give up part of the profit than allow such a potential risk to grow in the cradle.

"I mean the plan I mentioned earlier for apprehending criminals." Ian looked at Denzel, the Dornishman. "You saw it earlier too. I do not intend to take these people back to King's Landing for trial. I only need to bring back their heads.

Besides, even those who are wrongly captured will ultimately be silenced by you. Since anyone you catch is doomed to die anyway, why add the extra step of having me identify them?"

"You mean we won't need to capture anyone in the future? If we find a suspicious target, we kill them on sight?" Denzel was somewhat surprised. He found Ser Lucian's attitude entirely different from before.

Ian said nothing and nodded, confirming Denzel's guess.

"Yes, Ser." What exactly happened at Black Falcon Castle yesterday? Denzel grew increasingly curious, but wisely did not ask.

"Since I have temporarily left the cavalry at the Black Falcon Mercenaries' castle, we still will not deploy along the Kingsroad this time. We only need to watch the inn and its surroundings." Ian swept his gaze across the three men before him, his current subordinates.

"Remember, better to kill the wrong person than let one go. Eliminate every suspicious person matching the characteristics I described." No more pretending to be righteous this time. I'm the fucking villain.

"Wouldn't that be making too big a move?" A trace of hesitation flashed through Gransen's eyes.

"After all, isn't every bad thing done by the Ghosts of White Wall City? How long have they been running rampant here?" Ian casually shifted the blame away.

"Oh, I understand what you mean."

"Go on, get to work." Ian yawned again. "I... hah... I can't hold on any longer."

PS: Three chapters today, 7,500 words.