An Unexpected Meeting

Days passed, and the chaos in the wilderness showed no signs of abating, only intensifying.

A large tribe moving south was like dropping a twenty-pound dogtooth characin into a half-acre pond for the surrounding three-acre area; the entire ecosystem of the pond would undergo a massive reshuffle.

Until stable relationships could re-form, confusion and turbulence would be the prevailing theme here.

Even the gentle breeze wafting from High Mountain Keep seemed to carry a sense of alarm and disquiet.

Wandering bandits in groups of three to five became increasingly common, sometimes even gathering to attempt an attack on High Mountain Keep. Such attempts, of course, were futile, like striking a stone with an egg, and they were mowed down by the warriors. But the escalating tension was an unspoken consensus among everyone.

Richard personally cut open the stomach of a dead bandit. Inside, it was no longer just indigestible grass seeds and tree bark, but raw meat and a few unchewed fingers.

This discovery sent shivers down the spines of everyone present.

"Did you see their red eyes? Cannibalism causes red-eye madness, which ultimately leads to death," Richard said, rinsing his fingertips with clean water, then imposed a gag order on the warriors present.

It was better not to let the common folk know such news. The more volatile the situation, the more High Mountain Keep needed to maintain internal stability.

There were even vicious incidents of herders being robbed and killed while pasturing their livestock, with their animals completely plundered, which once caused widespread panic among the populace. Compared to his usual self, Richard was exceptionally silent that day, setting out with the Centaurs before sunset and not returning until noon the next day.

They were covered in blood, their clothes soaked with sweat, and weariness was evident on their faces, yet each of them carried several Gnoll heads whose eyes had remained wide open in death.

These heads were impaled on the pointed stakes around them, serving as a warning to bandits, their eyes still holding the terror of their last moments until pecked out by crows or withered by the wind.

The common folk made no comment, simply and silently shrinking their living areas and beginning to spontaneously organize watch duties or help the Centaur blacksmiths forge weaponry.

They were actually very afraid, afraid that their Lord would choose to temporarily withdraw to Corin, because they were all natives of the wilderness and it was impossible for the Pompey Empire to accept them, even temporarily. And once abandoned… they simply didn't have the courage to imagine such a result.

What the common folk didn't know was that a few days prior, Richard had received a message delivered by carrier pigeon from Noble's Estate.

The weight a carrier pigeon could carry over long distances was very limited, so the length of letters was precious. How to convey as much information as possible within a limited space was a subject worth studying for scribes.

And that bunch of scoundrels at Noble's Estate were as unreliable as ever, using three full lines for salutations and formatting, with the main content being only two lines.

It was generally a warning of risk to the pioneering nobles stationed abroad, urging them to return to Pompeii territory as soon as possible.

The carrier pigeon ate some shredded meat and then soared back into the sky, its wooden leg tube empty. High Mountain Keep remained High Mountain Keep, with daily patrols, training, herding, and fishing, unshaken by this small interlude.

For a Pioneering Noble, retreating into Pompeii territory to avoid disaster would mean the failure of their pioneering efforts, something Richard could absolutely not accept.

The advantage of converting the wooden building into an Earth Dwelling became apparent at this time. The part exposed above ground was very low, and with the addition of transplanted man-high clumps of grass for concealment, from a distance it simply looked like an ordinary barren hill.

In this season where every bush seemed to hide a soldier, Richard never expected to see Annie.

"What are you doing here?" Annie was in a leather hunting outfit, riding a tall horse, her hair wrapped in a linen turban, and a slender rapier at her waist, looking dashing and capable.

Behind her was a mercenary team of over a hundred people, complete with infantry, cavalry, and archers. Their formation was neat and their demeanor solemn; they could practically be considered a small army.

"What do you mean, 'What am I doing here?' That's what I should be asking you. High Mountain Keep is my territory," Richard said, utterly bewildered.

"We were passing through here and planned to rest. I didn't expect you to still be here; didn't Noble's Estate notify you to return to Corin?" Annie had the large force behind her halt, then slowly rode her warhorse towards Richard.

"They did, but I didn't want to," Richard waved his hand. "There's no need. Those bandits who dare to come are just asking for it."

His voice was loud, and as soon as he spoke, the mercenaries couldn't help but burst into laughter. But the warriors and common folk of High Mountain Keep did not; they looked at the mercenaries with pity, as if they were simple-minded.

"Lord Richard, you might be the last Pioneering Noble in the entire Northeastern Province still holding onto their territory." Annie's expression had been quite somber, but after hearing this arrogant man's words, she couldn't help but curve her lips. "I'm wondering if you're truly that brave, or if your information channels are just too isolated."

After she finished speaking, she extended her small hand to Richard. The Lord also very gallantly raised his hand to support hers, helping her dismount from the horse.

"Do you know what's been happening recently?" Annie asked.

"I heard it's because a large Bearfolk tribe is moving south," Richard said, a hint of hesitation in his own voice.

He had heard this news from the Voya Merchant Guild mercenaries, and Annie must have known about it long ago. But as far as Richard knew, there were at least a dozen pioneering territories in the Northeastern Province. If it were just the threat of one tribe, it shouldn't be enough to make all of them scurry away like rats in the street.

"No one probably knows the full story better than I do. I dare say you're completely unaware of the truth," Annie sighed, her heavy mood evident even to a blind man.

"I'm all ears," Richard immediately seized the opportunity.

Merchant guilds often had extensive connections, and in terms of intelligence gathering capabilities, ordinary minor nobles couldn't even compare.

"This used to involve our guild's top secret, but now there's nothing left, so there's no harm in talking about it."

Annie and Richard walked into the Lord's Hall and sat across from each other. Richard waved his hand, telling Gunther and Hert to leave and close the door. Annie was only accompanied by one female swordswoman.

An outdated secret was still a secret; the fewer people who knew, the better.

"This building you designed is really practical," Annie said, looking up at the log-paneled ceiling. "It's very cool and easy to conceal. My scouts were completely fooled. However, its appearance could still be improved."

Before she left last time, Richard had mentioned he would be implementing a new, uniquely designed building, which he named "Earth Dwelling," boasting about it endlessly. At the time, Annie firmly believed in the elven maxim "the more one flaunts, the more one lacks," and didn't take it seriously at all, never expecting that she herself would be the first to experience its effectiveness.

"Get to the point," Richard said impatiently, picking up the teapot and refilling her cup.

Elves were known to enjoy discussing architecture and art, and Annie was clearly deeply influenced by her elven heritage in this regard, something the Lord had long come to realize.