There's Honor Among Thieves

Half the potato field had been dug up. The farm guards were sleeping soundly in a shelter from the wind, with only the lumps on the backs of their heads—still not completely gone—telling the story of what had happened to them.

They had been knocked unconscious, not simply fallen asleep from exhaustion.

In the shelter, there was also an equivalent amount of money and a certain quantity of smoked meat.

There was honor among thieves. Medivh had not slaughtered the drifters who kept to their own corner and governed themselves, nor had he stolen all the potatoes they depended on to survive.

The drifters had never provoked him. It wasn't worth killing people just to steal some potatoes.

He had left money to pay for the potatoes and given the Drifter Stronghold a batch of smoked meat to improve their meals.

In any case, Medivh had agreed to the deal. Whether the drifters were willing or not made no difference.

The Drifter Stronghold's leader could understand why someone had stolen part of their potato field. Odyssey was in the middle of a famine, after all, and crazed bandits and aliens came by from time to time to steal and rob.

What he couldn't understand was why anyone would dig up only some of the potatoes, spare the guards, and leave behind money and smoked meat.

That was so unlike Odyssey!

Medivh wasn't a native of Odyssey and had his own code of conduct, so it was only natural that the Drifter Stronghold's leader couldn't make sense of it.

When the farm guards, who had been knocked out with clubs, were woken up, they had no idea who had struck them and couldn't provide any useful information.

The mysterious thief had left no clues.

The Drifter Stronghold hadn't suffered much from the incident, but having someone break in and steal from them was hardly cause for celebration.

The leader immediately assigned more guards to watch over the remaining potato fields.

At noon that day, the Drifter Stronghold used the smoked meat Medivh had given them to make several huge pots of meat stew with potatoes.

The aroma of meat wafted through the air, and the drifters, who hadn't tasted meat in ages, couldn't stop swallowing.

The Drifter Stronghold's meals had improved.

Meals had improved in Kurd City, too. Audrey was devouring the mashed potatoes, pan-fried baby potatoes, and potato stew with monster meat that Medivh had cooked himself.

The Drifter Stronghold had too little meat, while the people in Kurd City had eaten so much meat they were tired of it and needed a change.

"Fish is still the best!"

After tasting the mashed potatoes, Suixiang and the other Cat-girls made it clear that, because of their people's dietary habits, they preferred meat—especially fish.

Their favorite dish was Potato Stewed Fish. The rich fish broth and the potatoes soaked in it were a perfect match.

Since Medivh had gone to the trouble of cooking himself, Audrey and the Alien Maids were enthusiastically devouring the food and enjoying the honor.

The skeletons didn't need to eat. Some were patrolling, some were building the city walls, and others were carrying potatoes to a cool, damp place so they could sprout.

Once the potatoes sprouted, they could be cut into pieces and planted in the tilled fields. Kurd City's agriculture was beginning to develop.

Agriculture depended heavily on water conservancy. From mid-to-late June until mid-July each year, the Odyssey Region entered its rainy season, with frequent downpours.

The Farmland District needed a complete drainage system to ensure that rainwater wouldn't flood the potato fields.

Drainage and irrigation went hand in hand. During drier seasons, water could be diverted from the neighboring Reservoir District to irrigate the fields.

"Medivh, you haven't let me down!"

At the Hobarton Family estate in Loran City, Wester's expression darkened as he received a message from the intermediary.

Back when Medivh had suddenly faced exile, a broken engagement, and a string of other events, he had remained far too calm. Wester had suspected the boy was no simpleton, so he'd paid to prepare a little surprise for him.

Medivh had proved him right, cleverly avoiding his plan to have him eliminated by not going to the Pioneer Territory.

"Lord Wester, those bandits refuse to admit they failed to complete the original job. They're asking you to pay for an additional mission."

The Blood Crow Mercenary Group had sent the message to get Wester to pay for an additional mission.

Without payment, they weren't going to search the Wilderness for Medivh.

Wester's butler was furious with the bandits for refusing to honor their agreement.

But the Blood Crow Mercenary Group was in Odyssey, beyond their reach. They couldn't punish the group.

"Pay them. An uncle should always look after his nephew!"

Wester clenched his fist until it cracked. There wasn't a trace of familial warmth in his words.

As long as Medivh was alive, he might still turn the tables. Wester wasn't about to let him reclaim the family standing Wester had worked so hard to gain.

If the Blood Crow Mercenary Group could kill Medivh, Wester was willing to pay.

If he hadn't had people watching him and needed to maintain appearances, Wester wouldn't have let Medivh pass through Winter Fortress.

But Medivh held the title of Pioneer, and assassinating him within the Gewalt Federation would look very bad.

If the assassination came to light, the Hobarton Family's political enemies would make a huge fuss. Wester's rivals would seize the chance to drag him down from his position as the leading heir.

But his fears were unfounded. Medivh had no interest whatsoever in the title of Earl Hobarton.

He had long wanted to escape his cage and build something of his own.

By scheming to exile him to Odyssey, Wester had, to some extent, helped Medivh achieve his goal.

Of course, Medivh wouldn't thank him. He knew Wester wanted him dead.

Medivh would remember this grudge. When the time came, he would make Wester pay in blood.

"Would you look at that? Wester really is looking after his nephew!"

The Blood Crow Mercenary Group had demanded a hefty price, and the Blood Crow Captain was surprised to receive Wester's additional payment so quickly.

He was almost curious about the story between Wester and Medivh. What had made Wester relentlessly pursue his nephew even after he'd been exiled to Odyssey?

The thought passed in an instant, of course. The Blood Crow Captain had no interest in the sordid affairs of noble families.

"White Crow, take some men and find that Necromancer. Kill him before our client gets impatient."

This time, the Blood Crow Captain didn't play any tricks. He was counting on making money from the noble families of the Gewalt Federation, so he needed to maintain his reputation.

He sent out his right-hand man, White Crow, the deputy captain of the Blood Crow Mercenary Group, to hunt down the Necromancer in the Wilderness.

Whether that Necromancer was Medivh didn't matter at all.

If they said it was him, then it was him. Whoever the Necromancer was, they would kill him and present him as Medivh.

Just as they had previously accepted that Medivh was dead, if a Necromancer suspected of being Medivh died, then Medivh was dead.

Once they killed that Necromancer, Wester's additional mission would be over.

If someone else later turned up claiming to be Medivh, that would be a separate matter.

"No wonder Wester is so eager to kill his nephew!"

The place where the Skeleton Assassin had been discovered wasn't far from Kurd City.

Kurd Nine-Grid was already taking shape. Sprawling across ten square kilometers, Kurd City stood out on the barren plain, and it didn't take long for the Blood Crow Mercenary Group to find it.

After discovering Kurd City, White Crow and the other mercenaries understood why Wester wanted to get rid of Medivh as quickly as possible.

This Necromancer Apprentice sure knew how to make trouble. He had built a sizable stronghold in just one year.

Give him a few more years to develop, and he might really become a force to be reckoned with.

But that wasn't going to happen now. Medivh would die by his greatsword, and the Blood Crow Mercenary Group would gladly take the stronghold off his hands.

White Crow was thrilled. He hadn't expected such an unexpected bonus.