Setting Out

"Richard, are you sure about this?" Annie's voice trembled, sweat beading along both sides of her delicate nose.

"I wouldn't dare claim ten out of ten, but I've got a thirty percent chance." Richard never needed to prepare his boasting in advance. Preparing it would only lower the quality and interfere with a master's true performance.

Annie pressed a hand to her forehead. High Mountain Keep's Lord always made her feel that he had a deep gambling streak, but actually... wasn't she just as fond of making a risky investment for a huge return?

Or perhaps that was simply a merchant's nature. As long as there was enough profit to be made, one couldn't afford to worry about the risks.

"Richard, I'll represent Voya Merchant Guild and join this operation." Annie knew that her state of mind at this moment was twisted, greedy—a natural embodiment of the saying that men would die for wealth.

She hesitated, but soon felt relieved. Merchants pursued profit just as warriors pursued honor. It was perfectly proper and beyond reproach.

With his back to Annie, Lord looked into the distance, leaving behind a calm and composed silhouette. "Pleasure doing business with you."

He had to turn around, because if he didn't, Annie would see the smug, scheming smile on his face.

Everyone from High Mountain Keep had put on a wholehearted performance all morning, and the fish had finally taken the bait. There had never been only one kind of miracle in this world: success that came naturally after making every possible preparation.

For Lord, bringing Voya Merchant Guild into the operation was of great significance. The mercenary force of more than a hundred people was an important reason, but it was still secondary. The truly indispensable factor was Annie—

"If we don't coax her over, how are we supposed to get in touch with the dwarves?" Before setting out, Richard had secretly summoned all the commanders, large and small, of the territory guard for a regular meeting. It was meant to brief them before the great battle and unify their thinking.

The guard commanders sitting in a circle around the table hurriedly nodded with all their might, putting on looks of sudden realization.

"Everyone needs to understand this clearly. What's our objective?" Richard sat on the table, his gaze sweeping across each of their faces.

"Seize the mine." Gunther quickly showed that he knew.

"Then what do you think of this idea?" The Earth Dwelling was rather dimly lit. Lord lowered his head and poured himself a cup of tea.

His head was bowed so low that the others couldn't see Lord's expression at all.

The barbarians seized the chance to lavishly flatter him. The centaurs were initially too reserved, but they soon followed suit, showing every sign of overtaking their predecessors.

Some said he had "the cunning of a Snow Fox and the strength of an ice bear." Others claimed he possessed "Napoleon's decisiveness and Frederick's strategies." Still others praised his "far-reaching vision, unique wisdom, and foresight." The Earth Dwelling was filled with a lively atmosphere.

Lord held his teacup and listened to half an hour of endless flattery, thoroughly enjoying himself. Then he rewarded each of the flatterers with a kick.

"You bunch of stupid donkeys!" Richard slammed the cup onto the table, sending tea splashing everywhere.

"You think every one of you has been possessed by the God of War? You're going to seize a mine? Look at how capable you think you are. If we threw all of High Mountain Keep into this, what odds would we have of winning?" Before they could answer, Lord raised one finger and wagged it.

"Ten percent. At most ten percent, and possibly even less!"

After that storm of abuse, the guard commanders fell collectively silent.

They weren't fools. Of course they knew that throwing their own forces into a meat grinder of a battle would be an understatement if it were described as fighting at a massive disadvantage.

The reason they had appeared so confident all along was that they firmly believed their undefeated Lord must have a solution. Now that Lord himself had punctured that soap bubble, they couldn't help feeling weighed down.

Hert was still the best at reading the situation. He picked up the conversation at just the right moment. "My lord, if we have so few people, why are we still going?"

"Strategic vision. I've emphasized strategic vision many times." Richard took the opportunity to lecture these future officers. "It's precisely because we have so few people that we have no choice but to wade into these muddy waters. If High Mountain Keep had a thousand warriors, we could sit on the mountain and watch the tigers fight. But the truth is that we only have a hundred, so we have no choice but to go in ourselves."

"I told Gunther before that when a large tribe moves south, it's like throwing a dog carp into a pond. The small tribes will have to reshuffle. And that was only their movement south." Richard patted Gunther on the shoulder. Gunther was rubbing the back of his head with a bewildered look.

"My lord did say that." Hert's expression was convincing at a glance. Without making a sound, he pulled Gunther's hand down from behind his back.

"Once they have an iron mine, any tribe that isn't full of idiots will expand rapidly, as if it had grown wings." Richard folded his arms across his chest. His eyes seemed almost to glow in the dark room. "And they'll be far too close to us."

"The dwarves, who like to shut their doors and live their own lives, would be one thing. But if it's a brutal tribe like the Bearfolk and they begin expanding, how would that differ from casting a net that leaves no fish in the pond? How are we supposed to survive?"

Richard's gaze swept across each face. The commanders straightened their backs and clenched their fists.

The stronger someone was, the stronger their sense of territory. As it happened, every one of them was strong.

Confronted with a sudden threat, their first reaction would absolutely be to smash through the wall in front of them, not retreat and seek another solution.

"Whether High Mountain Keep can seize the mine doesn't matter. What matters is that we can't let them win too easily." Richard pounded his chest hard, every word ringing out with force. "I'll be honest with you: this time, we're going to be a turd-stirrer—a loud and imposing turd-stirrer! We'll stir these muddy waters until they're turned upside down!"

Richard's voice was nearly a roar. "No matter who wants to take the iron mine, I'll make them bleed their last drop! Make them suffer to the depths of their hearts! They won't recover from it for twenty years!"

"Yes, my lord!"

They rose in unison. Tables and chairs overturned amid a great clatter, and the commanders answered with a thunderous roar.

"Set out!"

The High Mountain Keep guard had already assembled outside, their equipment in order and ready to march at any moment.

They had little time. If they couldn't arrive before the dwarf tribe was destroyed, all their tactical plans would become meaningless.

"Annie, you only need to come with us." Richard pointed toward the mercenaries. "Have your people protect the civilians on the hills. Just make sure no bandits get in."

The mercenaries, who had been on edge, collectively breathed a sigh of relief. They were merely earning money to make a living. Many of them were waiting to go home and get married after the battle. They had no desire to take part in some kind of reckless gamble.

"Richard, every bit of manpower is precious at a time like this." Annie herself was carrying a soft bow and a quiver of light arrows.

However, if her target was the Bearfolk, who were famous for their thick hides and flesh, it was easy to predict that the combination of a soft bow and light arrows wouldn't pose the slightest threat.

"The manpower has been calculated precisely. At most, we can bring you. Not one more person." Richard didn't explain exactly how precise this precise calculation was.

In any case, judging by how serious he looked, Annie could only believe that it was precise down to the last person.

"So now we're grasshoppers tied to the same rope?" The Half-Elf held out her hand to Richard. "This is truly a special bond. Let's get acquainted again. My name is Annie Margaret. I'm the descendant of Mr. Lynch, the owner of Voya Merchant Guild, and Ms. Leah, a Prairie Elf."

Richard shook her hand.

Just considering the various magical items and holy water she had produced earlier, he had already felt that Annie's identity had to be more complicated than that of a mere caravan manager. He hadn't expected her to really be the second generation of a merchant guild.