The Beast Tide

City Defense Headquarters.

The original guards had all been replaced by soldiers of the Shamsuddin Legion.

Compared to the soldiers on the city walls, the guards here were far better equipped, and even the squad leaders were at least low-tier combat professionals.

A group of City Defense soldiers returned, laughing and joking while carrying their spoils of war. To avoid running into the Legion, they specifically took a detour to the back, only to be intercepted the moment they stepped through the door.

"Pusfield..."

A young noble recognized the man blocking their path.

Pusfield crossed his arms over his chest, cast a sidelong glance at them, and said expressionlessly, "I truly thank you all for taking the trouble to leave the city and haul our spoils back for us..."

As he spoke, his companions reached out to grab the goods, and the latter resisted instinctively.

"Wait, I..."

A companion nearby tried to speak up to stop them.

Pusfield glared, a surge of pressure erupting from him, and the young noble was instantly rendered speechless.

Pusfield then grinned broadly, "You actually dare to resist! Get them..."

Immediately, several men swarmed forward, knocking the City Defense soldiers down in a few swift moves before picking up the loot and walking away triumphantly.

Watching their spoils being snatched, the men on the ground could only curse amidst their groans.

Those men had played dirty; although they hadn't dealt any lethal blows, the pain was excruciating—the kind that pierced to the bone. It felt as if their muscles and tendons had been crushed a dozen times over. Even for a professional, it would take half an hour to crawl back up, and for an ordinary person, it meant lying down for the entire day.

As for who had robbed them, it went without saying.

With that kind of strength and appearing in this location, it was undoubtedly the Legion Commander's personal guard.

They had no face to go and file a complaint, and the group guessed that even if they sought out their superiors, they wouldn't be able to get the items back.

Having their spoils snatched could only be blamed on their own lack of strength.

Besides, with the headquarters itself having been forcibly occupied, what use was there in complaining...

City Defense Hall.

At the head of the table sat a burly man with red hair, biting on a cigar with his feet propped up high.

Hussein.

Commander of the Shamsuddin Legion, a Genasi, and a Fire Genasi Sorcerer.

His flaming red hair was his signature mark.

"Commander, scouts have sent word that a large number of beasts and aberrations have appeared to the southwest and are continuously moving toward the main city. It is estimated that a massive beast tide will form within about 100 li!"

Hearing his subordinate's report, Hussein did not speak. He blew a smoke ring, picked up a purple, diamond-shaped potion with his left hand, and observed it closely.

"What were the casualties from last night?"

Hussein asked.

The young officer was stunned for a moment before immediately replying, "Seventon deployed 1,470 combat personnel. There were zero deaths. The total loss of ordnance and supplies..."

"Stop, don't mention the lost supplies. Just double—no, triple the amount and report it to the City Defense forces. Tell me about the personnel situation."

"Uh?... Yes. Twenty-seven seriously injured, one hundred and thirty-eight lightly injured. The seriously injured were handed over to the priests for treatment this morning and can return to combat after three days of rest. The lightly injured were adjusted this morning and can basically return to combat by the afternoon..."

"Hmph, with the city walls as cover, to have so many people injured while fighting a few aberrations—it seems the recent training has been lax. They're itching for a beating!"

"Uh... Commander, the injuries occurred because they ran outside to snatch combat merits, that's why they got hurt..."

"Ran outside?" Hussein widened his eyes and leaned in close to the officer, the smell of smoke from his mouth choking the man's face. "Are they all pigs? With the city walls for cover, they still ran out to fight head-on—are they brainless? Snatching, all they know is snatching combat merits! Pass down the order: those who are injured don't need to return to the front lines. Send them straight to logistics to haul supplies. Damn it all..."

The officer's mouth twitched. Only after the Commander sat back down did he say, "Commander, another factor is that we haven't trained for defensive warfare, nor do we have experience in siege defense. Also, also..."

"Also what? Spit it out!"

"Also, as you often say, the best offense is a good defense. Our Legion has too few archers. A bunch of them watched the marksmen 'picking up' combat... 'kills,' and they felt so stifled that they charged out."

Hussein's eyelids twitched. He looked up toward the upper diagonal, held the cigarette in his right hand, took a heavy drag, exhaled, and coughed twice. "The recovery was so fast this time; the City Defense food must be pretty good!"

"Yes! Commander," the young officer nodded in agreement. "The healing potions in this main city are also quite good!"

"Since they're good, purchase more for backup. The beast tide will consume a lot later. This glass container is nice; I heard it can even be drunk from. That's a clever design."

"Understood, Commander."

"Go, go, go. If the money isn't enough, find Tolmanov. Don't bother me. Tell him to bill the City Defense forces. Damn it, helping them defend the city—asking for a bit of labor pay isn't asking too much."

After dismissing his subordinate, Hussein let out a soft breath and rubbed his thumb gently against the mark on the bottle.

It was a mark similar to a gold coin, imprinted with a crescent moon symbol.

"An interesting little fellow. It seems that old guy really has a successor..."

The chaos brought by the beast tide arrived faster than expected.

The central streets of Seventon were bustling with traffic, and the snow was pressed into slush before it could even cover the ground. As refugees fled into Seventon, the news gradually spread. The first to react were the owners of the major merchant guilds and shops.

Prices continued to climb as if water had been injected into them. Just as the major guilds began preparing to hoard supplies, they discovered that most of the goods had already been booked in advance—and these were all military supplies involving salt, iron, and leather.

At this moment, not only were the shopkeepers dumbfounded, but every major trading company was shocked by Borne's maneuver. Those who had previously mocked Borne and the Lehman Trading Company were now having their faces slapped by reality.

Borne's astonishing business talent and foresight were, for the first time, revealed to the world.

Lehman hurried to find Borne. On one hand, he was amazed by his boss's predictions; on the other, he hadn't expected other merchants to be so sharp. Although Lehman had intercepted the majority of the supplies, many other companies still held significant stock, and the competitive pressure remained immense.

However, the Lehman Trading Company, despite holding a massive quantity of supplies, encountered a major problem.

They were unable to establish contact with the upper echelons of the Shamsuddin Legion. In fact, it wasn't just their company; everyone else was being turned away as well. Even when Baider tried to use the name of Ioulaum House, it proved useless.

The guards of the Shamsuddin Legion gave no one face, bluntly stating that if anyone wanted to see the Legion Commander, they should have their noble masters come in person.

A group of shop managers and agents were left stunned. As "tools," this was exactly what they were hired to do; if the bosses behind the scenes had to show up themselves, what use were they?

As it turned out, some people actually did go to invite their noble masters. The very next day, that particular trading company immediately replaced their president, while the previous one had mysteriously disappeared.

At this point, the presidents of the major trading companies realized that compared to being "disappeared," losing out on this business was clearly an acceptable alternative.

Moreover, with the war about to begin, they didn't believe the Shamsuddin Legion could truly be self-sufficient and have no need for ordnance and supplies. This caused prices in Seventon to change daily, rising to a point of madness.

Lehman pondered for a long time before finally gritting his teeth and seeking out Borne.

"Are the contracts all signed?"

"They're all signed. The funny thing is, half a month ago they were all smiles, but after only a few days, people started coming to my door one after another to cry poverty. Heh, I just pulled out the contracts and shoved them in their faces; in the end, they could only slink away..."

Lehman's current confidence stemmed from this batch of supplies. Even without securing the military supply line, just based on current market prices—after deducting the losses from acquiring High Yarrow—he could still make a huge profit.

The more this happened, the more he admired his boss's vision. His boss always said he had excellent business talent, but compared to his boss, his own little cleverness was nothing.

Borne didn't notice Lehman's expression, his eyes fixed intently on the alchemy bench as he said, "Having a contract isn't necessarily a guarantee. This method can only be used once; it might not work as well next time."

"This method is quite good, though. With a priest as a witness and a deity as a guarantor, how could they possibly go back on their word?" Lehman asked, puzzled.

"The ones best at playing with contracts are devils, and even devils have times when they slip up—let alone contracts drafted in human language..."

"???"

"Heh, you'll understand in the future. Now, which legion is currently stationed here for the rotation?"

"The Shamsuddin Legion! One of the ace legions of Netheril!"

Lehman said solemnly.

"It's actually them!"

Borne raised an eyebrow upon hearing this, feeling somewhat surprised.

Seeing Borne's expression, Lehman secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed his boss knew of this "eccentric" legion, which made things easier to explain. He then began to vent.

"This Shamsuddin Legion is practically a bunch of wild orcs; they are completely impervious to reason. Every visitor has been turned away, and the most ridiculous part is that those guards openly took bribes... and then didn't do a thing! Some people even took the matter to the City Guard barracks, only to be beaten up by the Shamsuddin men and tossed out..."

Lehman smiled bitterly. He had originally thought that by relying on the reputation of Ioulaum House, he could get a share of the military supplies. He hadn't expected them to not only ignore him but to hold absolutely no one in their eyes.

Borne was slightly stunned upon hearing this, then laughed. "It seems the plan needs to be changed..."

"Yeah, I think so too..."

"Increase the production of the new healing potion. Ensure enough for at least one legion, hmm... wait, maybe we'll need enough for two legions."

"..." Lehman: "Hmm???"

Borne didn't offer much explanation, walking to the side on his own and pulling back a curtain.

"???"

In an instant, Lehman's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He found that every time he came to see his boss, he received a new surprise (or shock)!

Inside a massive, transparent crystal, dense clusters of magical plants were being cultivated. Pipes extended from the top, connecting to unknown containers, and a bright red liquid shimmering with an enchanting purple hue dripped slowly down the pipes, to be absorbed by the magical plants below.

"This... what is this?"

"Magical Plant Incubator 1.0..."

Lehman: ...

Fine, the name said it all.

Just by hearing the name, he knew what it was—as simple and brutal as ever.

But judging by the name, it seemed there would be a 2.0, 3.0... His boss was really going all-out against the Arcane Garden.

"Eh?"

Lehman seemed to have discovered something. He pressed against the glass to look closely and said in disbelief, "Is this... is this 'Anvil Vine'?"

Anvil Vine was known as the weed of magical plants. It could adapt to almost any environment and had such strong reproductive and regenerative capabilities that even a single cutting stuck in the soil would grow into a new plant.

Yet, despite this tenacious vitality, Anvil Vine had always been criticized by spellcasters and treated as a weed. Not only would it crazily plunder the vitality of the land, causing other magical plants to die, but most importantly, it possessed an inert magical nature. It barely reacted with other magical potions and would even lower elemental activity—it was practically magical poison!

Lehman was all too familiar with this. Every time he took a task from the Arcane Garden, it was basically to clear out Anvil Vine.

Though called a vine, it was actually a type of creeping magical plant. The vine body was as hard as iron and difficult to cut. If you didn't pull it out by the roots during clearing, it would grow back before long. If the root system wasn't cleaned out thoroughly, it would sprout again, making it incredibly troublesome. It was one of the most unpopular tasks in the academy.

Lehman hadn't expected to see this thing here, and even more so, that his boss was using it to cultivate 'High Yarrow'.

"Grafting technology. The Anvil Vine's super-strong vitality not only greatly increases the survival rate of the High Yarrow, but its inert magical nature also significantly reduces the error rate of mutation and accelerates the mutation time..."

Borne rattled off a long explanation, leaving Lehman feeling completely overwhelmed.

This was Anvil Vine, hailed by the entire magical community as "magic poison." To think it could be used this way—many high-level mages were still racking their brains, desperately trying to figure out how to utilize the stuff. It was even rumored that Concinnio had studied it for a time, yet yielded no results.

He never expected his boss to have cracked it. While he didn't understand what "grafting technology" was, it at least proved that Anvil Vine was useful and no longer just "weeds."

Lehman took a slow breath, his gaze toward Borne shifting significantly.

As an Arcanist, Borne's powerful mental perception naturally picked up on the change in Lehman's eyes.

He was familiar with this look; it was the same expression his mentor had worn when demonstrating techniques back when he first started as a graduate student in his past life.

Is he being swayed by my powerful, exceptional knowledge?

Hmm, looks like I've got this in the bag...

Borne felt a bit embarrassed, but he soon let it go and began to feel proud. Although this world possessed a powerful magical civilization, the knowledge and technology from Earth were by no means useless. If one shifted their perspective, they remained highly practical!

Borne then handed a batch of pre-cultivated High Yarrow to Lehman. "You handle the critical mixing yourself. Delegate the other steps; I'm not feeding all those people just so they can eat for free. Don't worry about the formula leaking—as long as the mutation technology remains in our hands, others won't be able to stir up much trouble even if they get their hands on the recipe!"

"Yes, Boss."

"Also, transfer all the contracts. For the specifics on who to give them to, have Baird find the old butler; he will handle it."

"Understood, Boss."

If this were before, he certainly would have asked why. With prices skyrocketing and not yet at their peak, selling off these supplies now meant missing out on a massive profit.

But now, Lehman had no other distracting thoughts. His boss surely had his reasons for doing this.

Returning to the trading company, Lehman followed Borne's instructions and quickly organized his staff to begin mass-producing the new type of healing potion.

When a stack of contracts was handed to the old butler, even the usually composed man couldn't help but show a look of astonishment.

Borne's move to push forward an agent to establish an independent trading company and hype up High Yarrow was something the old butler was well aware of. He had even used "pre-orders" to lock up a large amount of supplies with minimal capital, a feat that had left many in awe. That crucial masterstroke—getting a Temple priest to act as a witness—had even earned praise from the Count; it was truly the finishing touch.

The delivery date for these supplies was only a few days away. With current prices rising for another ten days or half a month, no one would doubt the Lehman Trading Company's ability to complete the transaction.

These contracts were money; they were gold coins!

If Borne wanted to, he wouldn't even need to put up cash on the day of the trade. He could just take the contracts and resell them at the day's market price; there were plenty of people who would scramble to take them, even willing to pay a premium.

The value of this stack of contracts was enough to make even the old butler's heart race. Even with the current scale of the Ioulaum House, this sum of "money" was not insignificant. He couldn't help but sigh with emotion: he was truly the old master's grandson, having inherited not only outstanding magical talent but also a gift for business.

That same evening, these "invaluable" contracts were delivered to the Count's desk.

The Count looked over the contracts and immediately cursed, "This little brat, he's already starting to throw difficult problems my way..."

Despite his grumbling, the curve of his lips betrayed his delight.

A few days later, members of the Shamsuddin Legion sought out Lehman, stating that the Lehman Trading Company's new healing potion would be the designated medication for the upcoming battle.

This sudden military order acted as a shot of adrenaline for the entire company. Military supply contracts represented not only validation but also enormous profits.

How much could they really make from retail sales at the apothecary? Especially with the city under winter lockdown, it wasn't just a slow season—it was nearly impossible to move stock. Now, with the Legion's order, the Lehman Trading Company was set to rise!

Compared to the excited staff, Lehman was much more rational, though his trembling hands betrayed his inner turmoil. His reverence for his boss had reached a new height.

After respectfully seeing off the Legion representatives, Lehman waved his hand and shouted, "Prepare to start production!"

The first batch of potions required 10,000 units. The standard strength of the Legion was 4,200 men, each needing two doses initially, and as the battle intensified, the consumption would only grow.

This was Lehman's first time dealing with military supplies. If Borne hadn't had him start the preparations days in advance, they likely wouldn't have been able to meet the first delivery deadline.

It wasn't until Uncle Baird brought a group of people over to help that Lehman finally let out a sigh of relief.