Bronn

It had worked.

With tears still streaking their faces,

more than twenty men silently and resolutely

stepped out from the crowd and stood before Suleiman!

Suleiman was thrilled.

These men would be his own people!

Since arriving in this world,

aside from Old Nicken, Lushen, and Roslyn,

they were the first people who truly belonged to him!

Of the forty-odd others, more than a dozen were men,

but they hadn't held back out of fear.

He could see their anger and hatred toward the Wildlings.

But they had loved ones in the group.

Wives, daughters, mothers.

They couldn't leave them behind to take up their swords and fight.

Suleiman had no intention of forcing them.

Sending them to his domain

would also give him a vital new source of manpower!

It might not make the domain prosperous overnight,

but at least there was hope for its growth.

There was so much they could accomplish!

Suleiman drew his sword, spurred his horse forward, and shouted to the soldiers standing nearby:

"Brothers! Pick up the pace!"

"Find the settlement! Let's welcome our new brothers!"

"To their new lives!"

"To the blood of the Mountain Clans that will soon flow!"

"I'll pay for everything!"

At his command, the mood among the halted troops changed in an instant.

The soldiers' faces and eyes lit up with wild excitement and joy.

After every battle these past few days, they had to race onward for a whole day and night

before they could rest.

Every man carried enough Silver Stags to live without working for half his life, maybe even all of it.

But they couldn't spend any of it! It was driving them mad! It felt as if ten thousand ants were crawling all over them, biting and itching!

Especially after women had joined the group. Every man had a fire smoldering inside him!

But they all knew Lord Suleiman's orders were ironclad. None of them dared act out, and could only meet their desires in their dreams!

They'd been longing to enjoy themselves!

Six riders were dispatched to ride ahead and search for a settlement.

They rode six warhorses captured from the Wildlings—short, goatlike mounts.

They looked for all the world as if their riders were sitting on dogs!

They were as short as goats, and riding them was like riding a dog. Not a single Warrior wanted to ride one.

Some had suggested slaughtering them for meat.

Suleiman had stopped them.

No matter what,

if it could run, it could be put to use.

It was still a horse! Even if it belonged to the Wildlings!

The troops picked up speed, with Suleiman riding at the head.

The soldiers charged ahead eagerly, but kept their formation.

Until dusk...

The sun sank halfway below the horizon, its last rays falling in the distance.

The road ahead remained empty. They couldn't see a single person.

They had passed two villages along the way. Both were reduced to rubble and devoid of people.

It was obvious the Wildlings had raided them!

"Damn it! Why can't we see a single soul?" one soldier panted, cursing from within the ranks.

The soldiers lowered their heads, sorrowful expressions on their faces, their disappointment and anxiety plain to see.

It felt like being in a desert with a wagon full of gold.

Even Lushen had loosened his grip on discipline, letting the soldiers quietly vent their frustration.

Suleiman studied the map, frowning a little.

There was a small town up ahead. He just hoped it hadn't been raided by Wildlings too.

Just then, the urgent clatter of hooves came from up ahead.

A "Goat Rider" lurched into view.

The rider swayed in the saddle, as if he might fall off at any moment.

It was one of the scouts!

Suleiman's heart sank.

Don't tell me—

It was no wonder. They were exhausted!

The soldiers weren't the only ones!

Even riding was exhausting!

Suleiman himself wanted to enjoy himself too!

As the rider galloped up to Suleiman, he nearly toppled out of the saddle.

Blood streamed from his nose. His face was swollen and bruised, his hair disheveled, and his armor twisted. He looked utterly battered.

He had clearly just taken a brutal beating.

"My lord! Lord Suleiman!"

Blood ran from the rider's nose into his mouth, making his words come out in broken, halting bursts. He looked wretched.

"Up ahead... up ahead... there's a town!"

"We... we... ran into... a Wildling... in there!"

"But... but he didn't... seem... like a Wildling!"

Realizing how badly he was stammering, the rider quickly tilted his head back and pinched his nose.

The six of us tried to take him down! We never expected him to be so terrifyingly skilled with a longsword!

He knocked down five of my brothers! Some villagers helped him, too! I was the only one who managed to slip away in the chaos and bring you word!"

Suleiman was taken aback. He asked again:

"One man?"

The Mountain Clans usually traveled in groups and rarely acted alone. And one man was causing a commotion in a town?

"Yes, my lord! Just one! He wasn't big—not at all. In fact, he was very thin! But he's incredibly skilled with a longsword!" The rider gestured as he spoke.

When the soldiers heard what had happened, they were instantly enraged!

Every village along the way had been raided by Wildlings!

And now, the small town they had finally found

was being raided by Wildlings too!

Everyone looked at Suleiman expectantly.

Lushen and Roslyn also rode forward, awaiting Lord Suleiman's orders.

The troops had won battle after battle lately.

The Wildlings no longer seemed so powerful or frightening to them.

Suleiman looked at the soldiers and swept his right hand forward.

"Everyone! Move out!"

"Yes!" the soldiers shouted, charging toward the town.

As soon as Suleiman and his soldiers entered the town, they saw the man.

Five wounded soldiers lay on the ground.

A lean man with black hair, black eyes, and a scruffy beard, dressed in furs,

was rummaging through their belongings, taking the money they had earned with their lives.

But when he saw how much money was in the bag, he froze.

Then he saw all the people arriving.

Without the slightest hesitation, he turned his longsword point-down and let it fall with a clear metallic clang.

"Clang!"

It sank into the dirt beside him.

He casually tossed away the purse in his hand, too,

as if it had simply slipped from someone else's grasp.

He raised both hands high to show that he meant no harm.

Only a glint of shrewdness and the faintest hint of embarrassment flickered in his eyes.

Then he shouted, "I'm not a Wildling, my lord!"

"This is a misunderstanding!"

Suleiman rode forward, with the soldiers following in front of his horse, their weapons raised.

Lushen and Roslyn rode at his sides.

Suleiman pointed at the five soldiers sprawled on the ground, groaning and badly beaten.

"This doesn't look much like a misunderstanding."

He had some idea who the man was, but needed him to confirm it himself.

The man pointed at the fallen soldiers, forcing a somewhat awkward smile.

"It really is a misunderstanding, my lord!"

"My lord, I'm a mercenary, hired by Valleydeep Town!"

"I'm wearing furs because I disguised myself as a Wildling to break through and get help!"

"During the fight, I shouted out who I was!"

Suleiman frowned and looked at the wounded scout who had brought the report.

"Lord Suleiman, I think he really was shouting something, but it was chaos at the time. I couldn't make out what he said," the rider reported honestly, touching his injured face.

Once the rider had confirmed what happened,

and the young nobleman still hadn't ordered his men to attack,

the man continued.

"My lord! The moment your soldiers saw me,

they rushed right at me! Like they'd spotted a fat sheep!"

"I thought they were bandits!" The man looked at Suleiman with an innocent expression.

Suleiman said nothing.

He rode up to the man, turning his horse sideways as he studied him. "What's your name, mercenary?"

"My lord."

"My name is Bronn."