The Wind Rises

When negative emotions slowly receded and reason regained control, Annie, in fact, possessed the qualities of an excellent merchant, being both intelligent and perceptive.

So, she quickly noticed something unusual about High Mountain Keep.

First, the night before, scouts reported that High Mountain Keep's lord had led his guard, clearing out and expelling bandits in the surrounding area overnight, only returning to camp in the dead of night.

The next day, when she entered the High Mountain Keep camp, she discovered that even the few remaining carriages had been dismantled into planks to construct makeshift fortifications.

Annie asked them why they were doing this. The commoners dismantling the carriages initially refused to say anything, but under her repeated questioning, they reluctantly explained that it was by the lord's command.

All these facts clearly pointed to one conclusion, a conclusion Annie found hard to believe.

"Are you not planning to return to Corin?" Annie asked when she found Richard, who was busy directing commoners to make camouflage out of grass and leaves.

The lush grass and leaves concealed the entrance to the dugout, making it difficult to spot any inhabitants from a distance. The amount of grass and leaves they were preparing suggested they intended to hide all the buildings in High Mountain Keep.

"No, I'm not going back. I think the business you mentioned is good, and I'm going to seize the iron mine," Richard said to Annie with a smile, his tone as casual as if he were discussing adding two more eggs to his noodles for lunch.

Last night, he had taken people to capture and interrogate several bandits overnight. The confessions he obtained essentially confirmed the information Annie had provided.

The female attendant, who had been silently following Annie, usually adhered to the principle that silence was golden, maintaining a very cold and severe demeanor. At this moment, she suddenly lowered her head, covering her face with her arm guard, and let out a series of coughs as if choking on water.

"Lord Richard, you always love to joke," Annie said, seemingly convinced she had seen through his bluster, nodding with a self-satisfied smile. "But I'm not some little girl who's easily fooled."

"I'm not joking." The lord was utterly exasperated. He had always believed himself to be a serious and authoritative classic lord figure. Why did anyone still think he liked to mess around?

Richard stared into Annie's eyes. "So many factions are eyeing the iron mine. What's so strange about one more? If monks can touch it, why can't I?"

"Are you crazy?" Annie could sense that Richard's tone and emotions at the moment were not those of a joke; he was absolutely serious.

"In a chaotic battle of that scale, a few dozen people wouldn't even make a ripple. You wouldn't even see the main force, and everyone in High Mountain Keep would be dead!"

"Plucking chestnuts from the fire isn't a arm-wrestling contest. What good is brute strength? The key is skill and precision." Richard rolled his eyes innocently, as if Annie were being unreasonable.

"Furthermore, Miss Annie, I must remind you, what do you mean, 'everyone in High Mountain Keep'? They are all elites, capable of fighting a hundred. You can insult me... well, no, you can't insult me, nor can you insult my subordinates."

It had to be admitted—faced with such an extreme disparity, his baseless yet seemingly justified confidence was indeed particularly convincing in this turbulent time.

For a moment, Annie couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment—Had she fallen behind the times? Should seventy or eighty people participating in a chaotic battle of seven or eight thousand naturally achieve victory?

"What's your plan?" She desperately tried to uncover the source of his confidence.

Even if he were to say at this moment that he was actually a Golden Dragon Rider who had been hidden for a long time, and that being a lord in the wilderness was purely a hobby, and he was about to summon dragons to sweep through everything, she might still grudgingly accept it.

"I'm going to ally with the strongest dwarf tribe and use a central flowering tactic." However, the moment Richard opened his mouth, he was spouting nonsense.

The last person who loved to spout such nonsense and thought highly of himself had died many years ago at Menglianggu.

"Then how will you get through the blockade of the other tribes?" Annie pressed on, unwilling to give up.

"That's a military secret for now."

"What's the method to evade the pursuit of the falcons?"

Richard cleared his throat with two coughs, and just as she was ready to listen intently, he said, "That's also a military secret for now."

Annie's fingers suddenly clenched into a fist, her teeth grinding audibly. Half-Elves had a reputation for being quiet and elegant, but that was usually the case. When truly enraged, their temper was no less than a human's.

"Quick! Quick! Quick!"

Several Barbarians shouted slogans as they hurried past them, joining the assembling High Mountain Keep guard, pulling Annie's gaze along with them.

Highland Barbarians and Centaurs were gradually lining up under the command of their respective small leaders. Besides them, there were two bulky figures, standing three ren tall, wearing dark blue cloaks and hoods, that were particularly eye-catching in the ranks.

The two stood there, quiet and steady. Even though the weather was getting a bit warm, their cloaks were still wrapped tightly, not revealing an inch of skin, making them seem very mysterious.

Not far away, a small, short figure wearing the same style of cloak and hood had taken off its hood, revealing a furry dog face, and was squatting in the shadow of its tall companions, panting with its tongue hanging out to cool off. Whenever its companions moved slightly, it would quickly and clumsily dodge to avoid being accidentally stepped on.

Annie blinked twice. She recognized Nehru and knew he was the Kobold Shaman who had been captured not long ago.

If Nehru was a Shaman, then the two tall figures wearing the same clothes were very likely Shamans as well. Where did High Mountain Keep get so many spellcasters?

"My magic advisory team." Richard noticed Annie's gaze and smiled faintly, without a hint of arrogance. "It's a very small scale, still in its early stages. Please excuse the humble beginnings."

Annie and her attendant gasped together. Guessing was one thing; having a guess confirmed was another.

This small pioneer territory actually had three spellcasters; it was too exaggerated and extravagant! While it genuinely startled Annie, she had to re-evaluate High Mountain Keep's strength.

She had to admit that Richard's arrogance had a basis.

The High Mountain Keep guard was indeed pitifully small in number, but truly no one was superfluous. Look—Highland Barbarians, Centaurs, Shaman Wizards, all powerful races.

Which one wasn't a powerhouse in their respective fields? Which one hadn't proven their strength with a formidable reputation? Which one couldn't scare people just by uttering their name?

This configuration was enough to drive any commander mad with envy; it was even superior to Pompeii's elite legions—no, it was three points better. Their collective presence in a rural lord's guard in the desolate wilderness was a waste, a tremendous waste.

Rather than questioning their ability to create miracles, it was more accurate to say that the very existence of this guard was a miracle!

If it was born for miracles, why question it?