As her negative emotions slowly faded and reason reclaimed the high ground, Annie revealed the qualities of an excellent merchant. She was intelligent and perceptive.
So she quickly noticed that something was wrong with High Mountain Keep.
It started the night before, when the scouts reported that the lord of High Mountain Keep had taken his guards and spent the entire night clearing out and driving away the bandits nearby. They did not return until well into the latter half of the night.
By the following day, when she entered the High Mountain Keep camp, she discovered that even the few remaining wagons had been dismantled into planks to construct crude defensive fortifications.
When Annie asked why they were doing this, the residents dismantling the wagons refused to say anything at first. After she questioned them repeatedly, they reluctantly admitted that they were simply following the lord's orders.
All these facts pointed very clearly to one conclusion, and Annie found that conclusion difficult to believe.
"Are you not planning to return to Koren?" When Annie found Richard, he was busy directing the residents in using blades of grass as camouflage.
The lush grass concealed the entrances to the earth dwellings, making it difficult to spot that anyone lived inside unless one approached closely. Judging by the amount of grass they had prepared, they intended to hide every building in High Mountain Keep.
"I'm not going back. I think that business you mentioned sounds pretty good, so I'm planning to seize the iron mine." Richard smiled at Annie, his tone as casual as if he were saying he was going to order two extra eggs with his noodles that afternoon.
The previous night, he had taken several men and captured a few bandits, then tortured them for confessions. Their testimony had basically confirmed the information Annie had provided.
The female attendant who had been walking beside Annie had adhered firmly to the principle that silence was golden, remaining cold and stern. But now she suddenly lowered her head and covered her face with her armguard, letting out a string of coughs as if she had choked on water.
"Lord Richard, you do love to joke." Annie seemed convinced that she had seen through his bluff. She nodded and smiled smugly. "But I'm not some little girl who's easy to deceive."
"I wasn't joking." The lord was deeply frustrated. He had always believed he embodied the classic lord archetype—serious and dignified. Why did people still think he enjoyed making silly jokes?
Richard stared into Annie's eyes. "So many factions are eyeing the iron mine. What's strange about adding one more? If the monks can get their hands on it, why can't I?"
"Are you insane?" Annie could tell that Richard's tone and emotions were not those of someone joking. He was being utterly, absolutely serious.
"In a battle of that scale, throwing in a few dozen people wouldn't even make a ripple. You won't even see the real enemy before everyone in High Mountain Keep is dead!"
"Taking the chestnut from the fire isn't a contest of arm wrestling. What use is brute strength? The key is finesse and precision." Richard rolled his eyes innocently, as if Annie were the one being unreasonable.
"Also, Miss Annie, I have to correct you. What do you mean, 'the few people High Mountain Keep has'? Every one of them is an elite capable of taking on a hundred. You can insult me... Hmm, no, you can't. You can neither insult me nor my subordinates."
It had to be admitted that, in the face of such an extreme disparity in strength, his confidence—entirely groundless yet somehow perfectly justified—was especially convincing in these turbulent times.
For a moment, Annie was dazed. Had she already fallen behind the times? Was it really only natural for seventy or eighty people to win a battle involving seven or eight thousand?
"What is your plan?" she asked, doing her best to probe the source of his confidence.
Even if he had told her at that moment that he was actually a Golden Dragon Rider who had remained hidden for many years, that becoming a lord in the wilderness was merely a hobby, and that he was about to summon a dragon and sweep through everything, she might have managed to accept it.
"I'm planning to ally with the strongest dwarven tribe and use a strategy of blossoming from the center." The moment Richard opened his mouth, however, he began spouting empty boasts.
The last person who had loved making such empty boasts while holding himself in high regard had died years ago at Menglianggu.
"Then how will you get through the other tribes' blockade?" Annie continued asking unwillingly.
"That is temporarily a military secret."
"And how will you evade the hunting falcons pursuing you?"
Richard coughed twice to clear his throat. Just as Annie prepared to listen closely, he said, "That is also temporarily a military secret."
Annie's fingers suddenly clenched into fists, and her white teeth ground together with a creak. Half-Elves were famed for their quiet elegance, but that only applied under normal circumstances. When truly angered, they could have tempers no milder than humans.
"Faster! Faster! Faster!"
Several barbarians shouted a cadence as they hurried past the two of them to join the High Mountain Keep guards assembling, dragging Annie's gaze along with them.
The Highland Barbarians and centaurs were gradually forming orderly ranks under the command of their respective minor leaders. Besides them, two burly figures standing three blades tall and wearing dark-blue hooded robes were particularly eye-catching.
The two stood there in silence, calm and steady. Even though the weather had grown somewhat hot, their robes remained wrapped tightly around them, not revealing the slightest bit of flesh beneath. They looked extremely mysterious.
Not far away, a short fellow in the same style of hooded robe had removed his hood, revealing a furry dog-like face. He crouched in the shadow of his towering companions, panting "huff, huff" as he cooled off. Whenever his companions moved even slightly, he hurriedly scrambled out of the way to avoid being accidentally crushed to death.
Annie blinked twice. She recognized Nehru and knew that he was the Kobold Shaman who had been captured not long ago.
If Nehru was a shaman, then the two large men wearing the same clothes were most likely shamans as well. How did High Mountain Keep have so many spellcasters?
"My Spell Consultant group." Richard noticed Annie's gaze and smiled faintly, as calm and effortless as drifting clouds and flowing water. "It's very small and still in its early stages. Please don't laugh."
Annie and her attendants leaned together and drew in a sharp breath. Guessing was one thing; having that guess confirmed was another.
This tiny pioneering territory actually had three spellcasters. It was far too outrageous, far too extravagant! Annie was given a solid shock and had no choice but to reassess and reevaluate High Mountain Keep's strength.
She had to admit that Richard's arrogance had a foundation.
The High Mountain Keep guards were pitifully few, but not a single person among them was unnecessary. Just look at them—the Highland Barbarians, the centaurs, the Shaman Wizards. Every one of them belonged to a powerful race.
Which of them was not a dominant force in their respective field? Which of them had not proven their strength through illustrious renown? Which of them could not frighten a whole crowd to tears merely by announcing their name?
This lineup was enough to make any commander jealous to the point of madness. It was in no way inferior to Pompeii's elite legions—no, it was even three parts superior. For all of them to gather in a wilderness lord's guard force in some impoverished backwater was simply a waste. A colossal waste.
Rather than question whether they possessed the ability to create a miracle, it would be more accurate to say that this guard force's very existence was a miracle!
If they had been born for miracles, then why question them?
Before you continue