Each One's Troubles

Creak~ The dust-covered door bolt was pulled open, and the sealed gates were pushed wide. The travel-weary Flaming Fist squad had finally returned to their long-absent base.

The training grounds they had missed were still as familiar as ever, though now they were covered in fallen leaves. A few uninvited jackdaws strutted around the courtyard, brazenly pacing as though it were their own nest. Every so often, they let out a few somewhat raucous cries, adding a touch of life to the desolate courtyard.

With everyone's return, the once-dead-silent base seemed to come alive all at once. The laughter and chatter of the past, the sounds of scuffles and curses, the footsteps of people coming and going, the clinking of colliding wine cups, and the celebratory toasts at this feast finally rang out here once more.

Unfortunately, one of the most important notes was missing from this joyous melody.

Just as everyone had gathered to celebrate the end of the mission and compensate themselves for the hardships of the journey with fine food and wine, the Flaming Fist captain, Skar, stood before Grand Duke Iltan.

"These are all the facts currently known. Both we and Nashkel were deceived by the other party. This faction possesses its own armed forces, and the bandits robbing the ore caravans were probably being controlled by them from behind the scenes. Their goal is likely the entire iron-mining industry."

Skar reported every detail of the mission to the grand duke, then concluded, "I'm certain the true mastermind is the Iron Throne. Only they possess the ambition and ability to do something like this."

"I believe your deduction. However, speculation cannot serve as evidence—at least, not enough evidence to put this rabble of maggots on trial." The grand duke narrowed his eyes slightly. Compared to usual, they held a little less authority and a little more solemnity.

"The bandits' headquarters are in Sharp Tooth Forest. We can simply wipe out those scum, then search for evidence of their collusion." Skar grew agitated, and his voice rose by two degrees.

"Skar, the Flaming Fist's power is indeed formidable, but it isn't infinite. We're responsible for the order and safety of Baldur's Gate, and even the entire Sword Coast. That's precisely why we must use our strength cautiously." Looking at his stubborn subordinate, Iltan felt somewhat helpless, but he continued in a gentle yet unquestionable tone:

"Have you considered this? If we commit our already-insufficient forces to such a vast region as Sharp Tooth Forest just to search for a group of bandits whose whereabouts are uncertain, then leaving the results aside, what will we do about our other regions? What will we do about Baldur's Gate?"

"We don't need to search the entire forest. Once we have their exact location, we can organize an elite force and eliminate the target before the situation grows any worse." Skar's cheeks flushed, and the blue veins on his forehead bulged faintly, becoming even more conspicuous against his reddened skin.

Iltan's clenched fist pressed hard against the tabletop, almost leaving a dent. He had to admit that Skar's proposal had some merit. If they could truly pinpoint those bandits, it would indeed be a good opportunity to teach the Iron Throne a lesson.

"I want to know what method you plan to use to drag those rats out of Sharp Tooth Forest."

Realizing that the grand duke had been somewhat swayed, Skar perked up. Perhaps this time, he really could convince the grand duke to approve his plan.

"Sharp Tooth Forest is indeed vast beyond measure, but it can't block the power of magic. With the help of Divination magic, determining their location shouldn't be difficult."

"This is the method you were talking about?" Iltan was almost laughing from anger. "I've been the grand duke of Baldur's Gate for so many years. How is it that I never knew our city had a master diviner?"

Skar suddenly grew awkward, and his momentum weakened considerably. "That was the suggestion of our squad's mage. He's certain that the other party is a true diviner."

"Just because your mage said so, and based on the monkey tricks of some so-called diviner, you dared to take your Flaming Fist comrades into that hellhole called Sharp Tooth Forest?" All expectation had vanished from Iltan's face, leaving only disappointment. He wasn't merely dissatisfied with Skar's proposal; he felt he might have expected too much from him.

This boy still doesn't seem to have truly regarded himself as a leader. Iltan sighed inwardly, then said aloud:

"Come. We need to have a proper discussion with Grand Duke Belth as well."

By the time Skar returned from headquarters, the gathering at the squad's base was already nearing its end. Skar's return naturally ignited the final climax of the celebration.

However, everyone gradually noticed that something was wrong with Skar. Their captain seemed distracted during what should have been a joyous feast.

Sorey didn't notice anything at all, eating and drinking as usual. Steve, however, was getting restless. Skar's state after returning from the grand duke could only mean one thing.

"Did the grand duke reject our proposal?" Unable to hold back any longer, Steve went straight to Skar.

Skar shook his head. "You can't really say he rejected it. But we don't have evidence that can convince the grand duke, and he doesn't believe a diviner can locate the bandits' camp."

"Everything is still uncertain. We won't know until tomorrow, after Charnem has met that diviner. Besides, it's a fact that the transportation of iron ore has been blocked. If we don't deal with the bandits, how are those industries supposed to keep operating?"

"The grand duke mentioned that future ore shipments will be escorted jointly by the merchants' guild guards and our Flaming Fist." Skar was helpless as well.

"But wouldn't that thin out our forces even further?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"Yes, but that was Duke Belth's suggestion. He believes it's the safest approach for now—at least safer than blindly searching for the bandits' hideout in Sharp Tooth Forest."

The feast began in revelry but ended in a strange atmosphere. Zhang Yuan, however, didn't take it to heart. After cleaning himself up, he lay down on his own bed. Having returned to his home base and finally relaxed completely, he at last had the mood to look back on his long journey.

What had left the deepest impression on him was naturally the battles along the way. All kinds of monsters, vicious and cunning enemies, dazzling spells, and phantom-like illusions flashed before his eyes one after another.

The sound of steel cutting through flesh when he swung his sword, the roars while charging into battle, the suppressed groans of the wounded, and the desperate wails of the dying lingered in his ears, like a curse or perhaps a whisper.

He remembered his first encounter with a monster: that huge green bug covered from head to toe in green. Running into such a massive creature in his very first battle had terrified him senseless. Fortunately, the big man Minsc had charged forward. Thinking about how helpless he had been back then made him laugh. But who hadn't gone through an inexperienced rookie phase?

He then thought of those poor hobgoblins and kobolds. With their advantages in numbers and terrain, they hadn't been without a chance to fight back. Unfortunately, they had encountered Xiaoxiao, such a special summoned creature, and hadn't been able to display their strength at all. They had died in the most frustrating way possible.

The corners of someone's mouth unconsciously lifted, filled with the pride of being a mage (cheater).

Then he recalled that bloody massacre. His brows knitted into a deep frown as he remembered the bandits' ruthless slaughter. They were opponents the Flaming Fist had to deal with, and targets he was currently plotting against with all his might. He wasn't afraid of them, but his chest felt heavy, and even his breathing stopped for a brief moment.

As he thought about it, he remembered those damnable, disgusting, hideous, foul-smelling gnolls! His hand unconsciously moved to the wound on his back, rubbing it through the bandages. The wound had yet to heal completely, and it still throbbed faintly.