Entering the Transfer Station
Alex was very annoyed by Victor's constant changes to the plan.
"Victor, do you mean we shouldn't set fire to the city and create chaos, then take the opportunity to steal horses from the transit station?"
Victor nodded.
"Look at the unprecedentedly small number of defenders in Haiden City, while our team of 120 men are all elites, plus 80 caravan guards under Steward Salos. Even if we face these 400 men head-on, I am not afraid at all, not to mention that they have not yet gathered together. Let's just make our move. After killing these people, we can more easily search for Roman pies and supplies."
"That's not right. If you let the caravan guards participate in the battle, what will happen to them? If they are recognized, my caravan will be ruined."
"How could anyone recognize them? Kill them all, and there won't be any hidden dangers. If you're worried that these guards might give themselves away later, Chief Salos, you must have some good ideas!"
"I don't have a good idea, but I do have a solution. I can send this group of guards directly to other trading posts, either in the east or the south, and then transfer another team of guards from the Chamber of Commerce headquarters."
After hearing Salos's answer, Victor looked at Alex.
"Alright, whatever you say. Salos this operation is over, you can take the entire trading post to the east and set up a new trading post in Essex County. While you're at it, gather intelligence on the garrison. I'll then notify the local chamber of commerce to contact you."
"Young Master Alex, I understand." Salos was overjoyed. In any case, the supplies and horses of the York County trading post had been robbed by the Second Legion, and he had to take responsibility. He had been so proactive in offering advice and participating in the operation in order to atone for his crime. Now, there was finally a good result, and Salos was finally relieved.
Since the plan had been changed, Victor, together with Alex and Salos, devised an action plan based on the situation at the transfer station.
Inside a tent at the Haiden City transfer station, Battalion Commander Evans was sleeping when someone knocked on the door, waking him up.
Evans, who was dreaming of promotion and a noble title, was very unhappy. He simply put on a coat and walked out of the tent, grumbling.
Seeing the orderly standing at the door, Evans asked, "What's going on? Why are you bothering me in the middle of the night? If it's not important, you're as good as dead."
"Uncle, you can't blame me for this. Manager Salos of the Jesk Merchant Caravan is here. It seems he has something important to discuss with Regiment Commander Lassos and you."
Evans kicked him, saying, "How many times have I told you, this is a military camp. Use your rank, or I'll slap you."
"Yes, Captain Evans, do you want to see him?"
"Of course we'll meet. After all, Manager Salos has always taken good care of us. But we'll just meet him once. If he wants to take back the goods and horses from the trading post, that won't do."
After saying that, Evans walked toward the entrance of the transfer station, with the orderly following behind him.
Outside the transfer station gate, the convoy's guards had begun dismantling the vehicles and horses, with Salos directing from the side.
When Evans walked out the door and saw this scene, he was very puzzled. It didn't look like they were there to pick up something, but rather to deliver something.
He walked straight to Salos, followed by a dozen soldiers. "Steward Salos, what brings you to the transfer station so late? Is there something important?"
Upon hearing the voice, Salos turned around and saw Evans. "Captain Evans, it's indeed an urgent matter. Regiment Commander Lassos isn't here, so I can only ask you for help."
"Oh, Steward Salos, you're too kind. What help can a mere Battalion Commander like me offer? As long as it doesn't violate any principles, I will do my best to assist you."
"I'm glad you said that. I'm sure you can help with this, and you'll get your share of the benefits." With that, Salos pulled a money pouch from his pocket and handed it to Evans.
Evans took the money bag, weighed it in his hand, and felt that it wasn't very heavy, only about eight ounces. He was a little unhappy. "This manager, Salos, spoke so solemnly. I thought it was some great benefit. It's only about 130 Silver Coin. Is this enough to feed a beggar?"
As the Battalion Commander of the directly subordinate legion, he received a monthly allowance of 1 gold. With the addition of drinking soldiers' blood and reselling some supplies, he could easily make 4 or 5 gold. 130 Silver Coin would only amount to a little over 5 gold.
He casually opened the bag and looked inside, then froze. He quickly sealed the bag, put it in his pocket, and said to Salos, "Steward Salos, whatever your orders are, I will do my best to fulfill them."
As for why Evans suddenly became so flexible, it's simple: he discovered that the bag was full of gold coins, a full 80 gold coins.
He couldn't earn this much in two or three years. After all, he had to give the meager amount he earned each month to Regiment Commander Lassos and take care of his own trusted subordinates. He could only keep a maximum of 3 gold coins a month. Even if he didn't eat or drink, it would take him three years. This amount of money was truly too generous.
Evans felt a little uneasy. "What if he wants to take the supplies away from the transfer station? Should I agree or not?"
Salos smiled and said, "Captain Evans, it definitely won't violate any principles. Don't worry, you're my friend, and I would never let a friend suffer a loss."
"Here's the thing, you know that the supplies and horses in the trading post have been requisitioned. I couldn't protect these things, so I'll definitely be punished by the merchant guild. I can only try to find a way to resolve this. Now there's a solution that can help me get rid of this trouble."
Evans wiped the sweat from his brow. "What method are you going to use? Stop keeping me in suspense."
"Look, I have some supplies and horses. Here they are," Salos said, pointing to the convoy.
"Evans, the transshipment station has a logbook of supplies, right? You just need to add all these items to the logbook to prove that they were requisitioned from our trading post."
Evans was completely bewildered; he simply couldn't understand what was going on.
When he looked at the horses pulling the carts, which were noticeably shorter than normal Wind Howler Horse, he asked Salos, "What kind of horses are these, Salos, the manager? Why are they so short?"
Salos smiled at him, "Captain Evans, it seems I really disturbed your rest last night. Your eyesight has deteriorated. These are five hundred standard warhorses with an average shoulder height of 1.7 meters, each worth 5 gold!"
Evans's mind went blank for a moment. Looking at the mere 200-odd ponies, he instantly understood what Salos was up to. He cursed inwardly, "What a rip-off! What a damn rip-off! I don't know where he got these crippled horses from. Even the worst draft horses are bigger than these. They'd be lucky to sell for 15 silver, let alone be worth 5 gold. This guy is trying to use the pretext of military requisition to cover his bad debts!"