Tradition

Renard rode his fine horse out of Saint Brieuc Fortress, heading straight northwest. The north wind howled, and he gasped for breath, the biting cold almost freezing his lungs solid.

About two miles from Saint Brieuc Fortress, he stopped to rest for a moment, looking around blankly. All he saw was desolation. Glancing back, the muddy road had long since disappeared, and the gray, dilapidated Saint Brieuc Fortress was merely a vague outline.

Leaving here, he felt no reluctance, no sadness. He was like a passerby. Perhaps many would rejoice at his departure, Renard thought with a bitter smile.

Of course, before he could completely bid farewell to the Barren Land, there was one person he needed to visit: the martial arts mentor of Scum Renard.

As the saying goes, even Qin Hui had three friends. Though the former Renard was scum, he still had someone he respected, and that was Sir Howard.

A man who earned his knighthood through his own strength, a man who fit the image of a hero in a novel.

Renard pulled on the reins and moved northwest. His strong warhorse tore through the thick fog, the icy wind lifting his brown hair to reveal a slightly immature face.

A strange curve formed on his lips, and he sneered inwardly, "Constantinople Academy, I'm coming back soon. I hope to give everyone a surprise."

The winter in the Barren Land was dry and cold, especially after a heavy snowfall.

However, this couldn't dampen the adventurers' enthusiasm for earning gold coins. Renard spurred his horse forward and soon saw three adventuring parties returning with their spoils.

The Barren Land was vast and sparsely populated, covering fifty thousand square kilometers with hundreds of towns and a total population of less than six hundred thousand. If not for the thousands of adventurers and criminals who came here to make a living every day, the Barren Land would likely be completely desolate within ten years.

Renard spotted an acquaintance among one of the adventuring parties, and the other party also noticed him. They greeted each other, "Honorable Young Master Renard, are you going hunting?"

The adventuring party before him called themselves the Twin Swords Mercenary Squad. Their captain was a Beginner Swordsman skilled in dual-wielding swords. Although they claimed to be mercenaries, they were actually a bunch of thugs and idle adventurers who had never registered with the Mercenary Guild.

For commoners like them, who struggled to make ends meet every day, the annual membership fee of ten silver coins was an astronomical sum.

Of course, impersonating mercenaries wasn't illegal. After all, being a mercenary wasn't a prestigious profession, so eighty percent of those who called themselves mercenaries were fakes.

They adopted a humble posture, while Renard replied indifferently, "Yes, it's the hunting season."

He certainly wouldn't reveal the truth to them, and hunting was the best excuse.

They showed understanding and respectfully asked, "Honorable Young Master Renard, when will Lord Hamilton be holding the winter hunt? My brothers are all short on cash right now; our families are waiting for money."

Winter hunt? Renard lazily raised an eyelid, appearing to ponder.

The winter hunt was the grandest festival in the entire Barren Land. Simply put, it was a competition to hunt monsters. Everyone, regardless of age or gender, was eligible to participate, and the rewards were quite generous.

However, as an extremely dangerous activity, its main participants were still adventurers and mercenaries who lived by the skin of their teeth. Ordinary people could only join in the fun.

The tradition of the winter hunt originated from the Olehols Dynasty and had continued in the Barren Land for hundreds of years. The initial purpose was to reduce monster populations and maintain peace and order in the Barren Land.

After all, the winters here were extremely harsh. While humans could survive on stored food, native creatures like kobolds and goblins had to resort to plundering to survive.

Therefore, every winter, those greenwood bandits would swarm out of the Ambrisset Mountains to raid surrounding towns. Although they wouldn't cause much damage to the territory, they still gave the local lords a considerable headache.

Thus, for their own benefit, the lords and nobles spontaneously organized hunting activities, which gradually evolved into a tradition over time.

However, the effectiveness of the hunting activities was not significant, as monsters reproduced quite rapidly. Faced with such troublesome opponents, many lords could only let nature take its course. After all, the losses caused by kobold and goblin bandits were much smaller than the cost of organizing a winter hunt.

However, Saint Brieuc Fortress was different from other cities. It was only about thirty miles from the Ambrisset Mountains. If those bandits wanted to raid, this place would be the first to bear the brunt.

For the stability of the territory and the safety of the people, at least that's what his father, Baron Hamilton, said. Saint Brieuc Fortress held a winter hunt every year, with the aim of crippling and intimidating the bandits before they arrived.

In the early days of the kingdom, to maintain border stability, the Barren Land was garrisoned by two regular cavalry regiments. Although these two cavalry regiments had been hollowed out to only a few hundred men, they still brought a long period of peace to the region. Unfortunately, they were eventually withdrawn.

This was because the Royal Army discovered that the Barren Land was a godforsaken place that no one coveted, making stationing two cavalry regiments there a huge waste.

This matter had troubled Renard's grandfather for a long time. After all, the combat power of cavalry was astonishing. At least during their garrison, Saint Brieuc Fortress had never been attacked by monsters.

If the Duncan Family could arm their own cavalry, even just twenty or thirty riders, it would be good.

Renard knew his idea was somewhat ridiculous. Baron Hamilton was currently struggling with the salaries of his dozens of subordinates, so how could he afford cavalry?

Even the most basic light cavalry required dozens of silver coins, and strong warhorses were outrageously expensive. With the current financial situation of the Duncan Family, ten warhorses were already the limit.

Because forming a cavalry unit not only involved purchasing horses and equipment, but also future issues like equipment maintenance, horse feed, and cavalry salaries were difficult to resolve.

If they truly managed to form two cavalry units, Baron Hamilton would likely be begging on the streets with a bowl within two or three years.

Thinking of that scene, Renard almost snorted with laughter. Then he noticed the adventurers' expectant faces. After a moment's thought, he said, "Let's go to town and see. Perhaps a notice has already been posted."

The adventurers were overjoyed and immediately wanted to go and check. Before leaving, they bowed humbly, "We wish you a safe journey, Young Master Renard."

With that, they eagerly rushed towards Saint Brieuc Fortress and soon disappeared into the wilderness.

Seeing this, Renard shook his head and gave a wry smile, muttering, "The old man is probably going to have a headache."

However, that was no longer his concern, at least not for now. When he returned from his studies, he might fulfill his responsibilities as a territory heir, provided that illegitimate son Gilbert didn't come looking for trouble.