Encounter

Outpost County covered a very small area, only several dozen square kilometers. It was intermittently enclosed by crumbling brick walls less than two meters high, with only two entrances and exits. The southern gate led toward the heartland of the Kingdom of Locke, while the narrow northern gate, barely wide enough for a single carriage, led toward the Great Wilderness and Fierce Beast Forest.

The stars glittered overhead, while a crescent moon in the sky gave off an eerie crimson glow.

Big Babylon and Little Zack swaggered in through the small northern gate. The two security officers on watch lay snoring atop haystacks. Little Zack quietly approached them and casually pulled the boots off the two lazy bastards.

The boots looked terribly ill-fitting on Big Babylon's enormous feet, which had to be at least size forty-eight, but he still gave Little Zack a thumbs-up.

Little Zack was not little at all. Though he was only twelve that year, he was tall and powerfully built. Strong muscles were exposed beneath his short animal-hide shirt, an awkward match for his childish face. The two streams of snot hanging beneath his nose made him look especially scruffy.

It was the first time the two had seen a human town. There were not many pedestrians on the streets, but they all glanced sideways at the two brawny fellows and whispered among themselves.

"They're built like beasts. Looking at what they're wearing, could they be barbarians from the wilderness?"

"Probably not. How could the border troops let those barbarians cross the border?"

"Who knows? Still, aside from being big, they don't seem that scary."

The two turned a deaf ear to the pointing and gossip around them. They looked here, then there, utterly unconcerned. Whether it was the low grass huts or the ponies pulling carriages, everything left them clicking their tongues in amazement.

As they neared the market, their eyes were no longer enough. Though the crescent moon hung overhead, many small vendors in Outpost County were still pushing handcarts and calling out their wares.

The aroma of roasted Shalu Beast meat mixed with the scent of cheap ale, making both of them swallow continuously.

Little Zack pointed at a vendor selling roasted meat and said pitifully, "Big Babylon, I'm so hungry. I want to eat that. I remember the Great Elder said human things can't be traded for; they can only be bought with money. Do we have money?"

Big Babylon was, after all, an elite barbarian warrior hardened by countless battles. He suppressed the craving in his stomach and said sternly, "Buy what? All you ever think about is eating. Have you forgotten what we came here for? Remember this place. Once we finish our business, we'll come back and trade with him!"

"Trade with what?"

Big Babylon gave a sinister chuckle. "Our fists!"

Little Zack nodded excitedly and secretly memorized the roasted-meat vendor's appearance.

Big Babylon pulled a crude map from his clothes, stuck out his broad backside, and lay flat on the ground to carefully determine their direction, drawing a burst of laughter from the passersby.

Little Zack looked at the commoners walking back and forth in long shirts and trousers, then at his own patched animal-hide skirt and short shirt. His face reddened in embarrassment.

"They must all be rich people from the human lands. They actually use so much cloth to make clothes." Little Zack said enviously, "Their lives are so prosperous."

Big Babylon gave Little Zack a contemptuous look and said flatly, "Rich people? Them? Impossible. They must be nobles. Don't you see they all have shoes?"

Little Zack deeply agreed. "There are so many nobles. You can't even see a single commoner!"

After staring at the map with his backside raised for ages, Big Babylon slowly got to his feet. He nodded at Little Zack and declared resolutely, "I've finished looking. I'm certain of it. We're lost!"

Little Zack was dumbfounded. He asked anxiously, "What do we do then? You can't read maps. How did you find prey when you went hunting before?"

"Luck!"

"No wonder everyone in the tribe is always starving. What do we do now?"

Big Babylon spread his hands. "No idea!"

"Then let's hurry back the way we came and find my father and the others."

Big Babylon put away the map and shook his head with a look of disdain.

Little Zack was so anxious he was nearly crying. Left with no choice, he said helplessly, "It's fine. At worst, when we go back, you can pin everything on me. No one will blame you."

"Didn't you hear me say we were lost?" Big Babylon sighed and continued, "I mean, I can't find the way back either."

Little Zack viciously kicked him. Big Babylon instinctively rubbed his shin, his eyes staring blankly into the distance as though he had lost his soul.

Little Zack followed his gaze and saw a young man in an extravagant evening suit, walking with an exaggerated swagger like a crab. Whenever people encountered him, they hurriedly stepped aside, then lowered their heads in a hurried salute.

The young man wore a wicked grin and occasionally whistled frivolously at young women passing by. His restless eyes darted around like those of a petty thief. Anyone swept by his gaze avoided him as though fleeing a plague, giving him a perfunctory salute before running off with their heads down. This made the young man throw back his head and laugh extravagantly.

Allen strutted like a giant crab, taking up the entire street by himself.

"Dina, what do you think of Second Young Master's acting? Does it suit my identity as a Good-for-nothing Lord?" After saying that, Allen walked over to a roasted-meat stall and kicked over its grill.

"Second Young Master is the best. Whatever you say goes." Dina praised him, grabbed a handful of roasted meat, and waved her casserole-sized fist at the pitiful vendor.

"Of course, hehe." Allen stroked his chin as his wicked eyes swept over the surroundings.

Just before sunset, Yorkshire had personally handed Allen a Magic Letter. It was written by Allen's nominal mother, the Grand Duchess. There was no unnecessary nonsense in it; the entire letter revolved around one central theme: giving birth to Allen had been worse than giving birth to a pig.

The letter ended with a few brief words of warning. The general meaning was that Allen had been doing too many proper things lately, and many unknown forces had their eyes on him. It also did not suit his identity as a Good-for-nothing Lord. From now on, he needed to keep a high profile. Ideally, he should do nothing but eat and sleep every day. If he had nothing better to do, bullying a few commoners was acceptable too. He needed to strive to become a top-tier useless noble.

Allen was not stupid. He understood his nominal mother's painstaking intentions.

And as if Sakre were deliberately trying to make things worse for Allen, he specifically told him that in two days, Princess Hathaway, the jewel of the Duchy of Rothel, would arrive in Outpost County as a member of the Duchy of Rothel's mage delegation and take part in the campaign against the heretics.

Beneath the calm surface of little Outpost County, storms were brewing. The current situation was extremely complicated.

The Earth Dragon Legion stationed several kilometers away was Xiulunte's direct force. That old enemy might have been racking his brains every day, preparing to teach Allen a lesson and get revenge.

Within Outpost County, the major merchant guilds and auction houses representing other nations had recently halted all caravan activity as well. No one knew what they were plotting.

Wood, the old fox and local diocesan bishop who harbored evil intentions, was no good either.

Then there was the Southwestern Cardinal Archbishop, who would soon arrive to personally receive Dina. A Cardinal Archbishop was one of the Holy See's highest-ranking figures, with an incomparably exalted status.

And on top of that, there was Hathaway's Armed Team of nearly a thousand people.

With so many important figures, each with their own schemes, Allen did not want to become the center of the storm. He only wanted to stay as far away as possible. Unfortunately, Outpost County was only so large, and the Old Castle was rooted there and could not grow legs. Since Allen had no way to leave, he could only reluctantly heed his nominal mother's advice and play a profligate noble constantly waiting to be humiliated.

That was why, for once, he had not stayed in the Old Castle sleeping, eating, and waiting for death. Instead, he had come out to wreak havoc on the people of Outpost County.

Having watched many gangster films, Allen had perfectly copied the exaggerated mannerisms of the villainous street punks in them.

With arrogance written on his left cheek and tyranny stamped across his right, Allen acted as though he feared people would not realize he was a profligate. Like a drunk city inspector, he looked at everyone sideways and found them all displeasing. Whenever he saw a stall, he kicked it over. The force of his kicks, paired with his arrogant laughter and a deliberately displayed hint of smug satisfaction, made him look exactly like a minor villain waiting to get slapped in the face.

Unfortunately, in tiny Outpost County, Allen was practically known by everyone. So long as they operated in Outpost County, not only the ordinary residents but even the major forces lurking in the shadows could not be bothered to pay him any attention. They merely played the roles they were supposed to play.

Everyone had long since grown accustomed to this Good-for-nothing Lord who changed by the day.

Many people even thought with relief, This Good-for-nothing Lord has finally started doing something proper—oppressing honest folk.

No one in Outpost County wanted to pay attention to Allen, but that did not mean the two muscle-brained barbarians found him pleasing to the eye.

Little Zack looked at Allen in the distance and said enviously, "That's amazing!"

Big Babylon, meanwhile, stared straight at Dina. He pulled out a portrait scroll from his animal-hide skirt, compared the two, and smiled.

While Big Babylon watched Dina, Allen was also watching the two barbarians whose attire was clearly different from everyone else's.

Animal-hide skirts, patched short shirts, bulging muscles, and wild, overbearing gazes—Allen immediately recognized them as Dina's tribesmen, the wilderness barbarians who had once made the Holy See suffer a crushing setback.

Allen smiled and casually snapped his fingers.

Sakre and four Armored Warriors emerged from the shadows. Eight Faith Guardian Knights from the local diocese came running from behind Little Zack, greatswords in hand.

"Do you have a temporary residence permit? Have you paid social insurance? And you dare come to Outpost County looking for trouble?" Allen sneered at Big Babylon. "What did you eat to grow that big, kid? Don't tell me you eat Hormones and protein powder every day."

Big Babylon, like an upgraded Schwarzenegger, ignored the warriors gradually surrounding him. He smashed his fists together and looked provocatively at Allen.

Like some big shot, Allen forcefully waved his hand and shouted, "Lackeys, get him!"

The warriors who had just formed an encirclement exchanged bitter smiles.