Warhorse

After driving off the Bandits, they could not continue traveling today.

They simply found a place nearby to set up camp. The rest had nothing to do with Derek.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he gave the soldiers under his command another round of mental preparation.

After one battle, many people's fear of war had vanished.

The immaturity visible on their faces had faded away. Some were even extremely excited, eager to try again.

Only after finishing the mental preparation did Derek finally open the Panel.

Sure enough, all the soldiers' experience had risen by a stretch, anywhere from ten to twenty points.

This was the progress brought by replenished experience and improved mentality.

For Spearmen above level five, the improvement was already very slight.

After level seven or eight, it basically stopped moving.

Now that it had suddenly jumped by a stretch, it was no small amount.

However, opportunities like this probably would not come often, and each time would yield less than the last.

Then he looked at his own Panel data.

Von Derek

Class: Knight Level 7 (5/100)

Experience Pool: 0/100

Not bad. It had risen by three points as well.

Even his Knight Squire had reached level four.

And there was an unexpected discovery.

Derek opened an icon at the bottom. It was clearly not a person.

Warhorse (Unnamed)

Quality: Ordinary (46/100)

Experience Pool: 0/100

"Warhorses can join the Panel too?"

Derek immediately perked up. If the Arms Business was hugely profitable, then the Warhorse business was a monopoly.

Especially since the price range was enormous, and even if you had money, you might not be able to buy one.

A regular horse like his cost more than 10 Gold Coins.

A truly well-trained Warhorse started at several dozen Gold Coins.

Derek quickly considered what had caused the Warhorse to be included in the Panel.

Was it the battle just now?

Or obedience?

Judging by the examples of soldiers joining the Panel, he felt the latter was more likely. But if every horse had to be personally handled by him before the Panel would accept it, then this function would not be very useful.

Derek could only keep it in mind for now. Even if that was the case, he could at least continuously train several high-quality Warhorses.

That night, Steward Vincent paid a quiet Visit and promised to offer another reward after they returned to the city.

It would not be much, but there would definitely be something.

That was also the custom. After all, they had fought desperately; it could not simply be ignored.

Principles were principles, and sentiment was sentiment. That was the proper way of dealing with people.

At least Derek was satisfied, and future dealings would go more smoothly.

After a brief stop, the Caravan resumed its swaying journey.

There were not many Mountain Folk settlements left, and the Caravan was about to begin its return trip.

Steward Vincent prayed that nothing else would go wrong.

Though they had been attacked once, the Caravan had actually made a huge profit. This latter stretch of the journey had been especially lucrative.

The Mountain Folk were xenophobic. If not for the Goat Caravan, Derek would never have been able to enter their settlements so easily.

He also restrained his soldiers and told them to avoid causing conflicts whenever possible.

They merely guarded the convoy and watched the Mountain Folk come and go as they traded.

It seemed there was more than one settlement. Some Mountain Folk appeared to have come from nearby places after hearing of it.

Derek stood with his arms folded, his sharp eyes fixed on the crowd, intimidating any Mountain Folk with other ideas.

"Can't the Healing Salve be any cheaper? We only have these rabbit pelts."

"No. Those rabbit pelts can only be made into gloves, and they won't fetch much. This high-grade Healing Salve was prepared for my own use. I won't sell it cheaply."

A burst of arguing caught Derek's attention.

He turned to look and saw Steward Vincent arguing with a raggedly dressed Mountain Folk.

He walked over to prevent a conflict.

Upon seeing Derek, Steward Vincent became even more imposing.

There were people willing to do businesses that cost lives, but none willing to do businesses that lost money.

Though Steward Vincent appeared extremely restrained before Derek, he had not the slightest sympathy for these lowly Mountain Folk.

Making him take a loss was harder than cutting flesh from his body.

The Mountain Folk seemed about to make a move, but when he saw Derek, his neck shrank back and a trace of fear flashed through his eyes.

He seemed to want to leave, but when he thought of his eldest brother lying there, he held himself back.

"Steward, give me the Healing Salve. The next time I come, I'll bring you ten Wild Boar Hides."

Ten Wild Boar Hides were enough to make several Leather Armor sets. They were quite valuable.

Steward Vincent's eyes lit up, but when he saw the other man's tattered clothes, he curled his lip. "Next time? Try not to starve to death first. Get lost already. Don't block my way, or I won't be polite."

The veins on the Mountain Folk's arm bulged as though he were about to attack.

At that moment, Derek stepped forward and pressed a hand onto his shoulder.

"Friend, you look very familiar!"

The Mountain Folk was startled. He remembered where he had seen him before, and how formidable the man before him was.

He tried to struggle, but was pinned firmly in place.

Even his strength, which he took pride in, could not break free beneath Derek's hand.

Derek was actually surprised as well. That was no small amount of strength, greater than that of most strong men.

Not every ordinary Mountain Folk was built like a bull. Those born with such natural strength were still a minority.

Of course, Derek valued something else even more.

"I don't know you. Let me go already. This isn't a place where outsiders like you can run wild."

The Mountain Folk roared, drawing quite a bit of attention.

Even with the Goat Caravan's backing, they had to think carefully before making trouble here.

Derek ignored him and turned to order his squire, Simon. "Go fetch my Healing Salve."

Simon hurried back and soon came running over with a small package in his hands.

"Friend, I mean no harm. I'll take those ten Wild Boar Hides. This is Healing Salve I prepared for myself, and it is definitely better than what is sold on the market.

"Especially for... puncture wounds."

Derek stared into his eyes as though he had seen through his thoughts.

The Mountain Folk subconsciously turned his head away, not daring to meet his gaze.

He did not know whether the other man had recognized him, but his eldest brother's life... Gritting his teeth, he accepted the package.

"Outsider, I will definitely prepare ten Wild Boar Hides for you."

"Good. When the Caravan comes again, I'll wait for you... If I'm not here, you can give them to Steward Vincent."

The Mountain Folk took a few steps with the package, then suddenly turned back and asked stubbornly, "Knight, tell me your name."

"Von Derek!"

"My name is Wood. I will definitely bring you the Wild Boar Hides."

Only after watching the Mountain Folk stride away did Steward Vincent come over with a regretful expression.

"Knight Derek, your Healing Salve will probably go to waste. Those people... do not possess a knight's virtues."

"No, I think he is a warrior. I'm willing to give him a chance."

"How could you tell?"

Steward Vincent was curious, but Derek only smiled without answering.

How could he tell?

The few Bandits who had dared to charge were also the strongest fighters. Did that not make them warriors?

Had it been someone else, they might have been crushed by that charge.

A person like that was absolutely talent among the Mountain Folk and worth recruiting.

My things, Derek's things, were not so easy to take.