Bronn

It was done.

With tear tracks still unwashed from their faces.

More than twenty men stepped out from the crowd in silence and resolve, standing before Suleiman!

Suleiman felt a surge of excitement.

These men were his foundation!

Since arriving in this world.

Aside from Old Nicken, Lushen, and Roslyn.

These were the first people who truly belonged to him!

Of the remaining forty-plus people, although there were still a dozen or so men.

It was certainly not out of fear or cowardice.

He could see the anger and hatred these men held for the Wildlings.

But there were people in the group they were tethered to.

Wives, daughters, mothers.

They could not abandon them to take up swords and fight.

Suleiman did not intend to force them.

Letting them go to the territory.

They would still be an important reserve force!

While it wouldn't make the territory prosperous overnight.

At least there was hope for development.

Everything was full of promise!

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

"Brothers! Speed up the march!"

"Find a settlement! Welcome our new brothers!"

"A toast to their new lives!"

"A toast to the blood of the mountain Wildlings that is about to flow!"

"All expenses! I will pay!"

As the order was given, the atmosphere among the halted troops shifted instantly.

The soldiers' faces and eyes revealed a frantic sense of excitement and joy.

For days, they had been fighting a battle and then immediately galloping for a day and a night.

Before they could rest.

Every man carried enough Silver Stag to last half a lifetime, or even a whole lifetime without working.

Yet they had no way to spend it! Their hearts were itching with impatience! It felt like ten thousand ants were crawling and biting all over their bodies!

Especially after women appeared in the group, everyone had a fire burning in their hearts!

Unfortunately, they all knew Lord Suleiman's military orders were as firm as mountains; no one dared to cause a stir, so they could only meet in their dreams!

They had long been dying to enjoy themselves!

Six riders were ordered to gallop out to search for a settlement.

Six warhorses captured from the Wildlings, as small and stunted as goats.

It looked exactly like riding a dog!

Their appearance, as small as goats and ridden like dogs, was so ridiculous that no Warrior wanted to ride them.

They had suggested killing them for meat.

Suleiman had stopped them.

Regardless of anything else.

As long as they could run, they could be used.

They were still horses! Even if they were Wildling horses!

The column picked up speed, with Suleiman in the lead.

The soldiers ran with excitement, yet the formation remained intact.

Until dusk...

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

The path ahead remained empty, not a single shadow to be seen.

They had passed through two villages along the way, both reduced to broken walls and ruins, devoid of any human presence.

It was clearly the work of the Wildlings!

"Damn it! How is it that we can't even see a shadow of a person!" a soldier cursed in the ranks, gasping for air.

The soldiers kept their heads low, their expressions filled with sorrow, marked by obvious disappointment and agitation.

It felt like being in the middle of a desert with a cart full of gold.

Even Lushen relaxed his discipline, allowing the soldiers to vent their frustrations in hushed tones.

Suleiman pulled at the map, his brow furrowing as well.

There was a small town ahead; he prayed it hadn't been ravaged by Wildlings too.

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats echoed from up ahead.

A Goat Rider came stumbling into view.

The rider on the mount swayed unsteadily, as if he might fall off at any moment.

It was the scout sent to clear the path!

Suleiman's heart sank.

Don't let it be!

There was no other reason! They were simply too exhausted!

Not to mention the soldiers!

Even he was tired of riding!

Even Suleiman just wanted to enjoy some comfort!

When the rider galloped before Suleiman, he nearly tumbled from his mount.

Blood gushed from his nose, his face was bruised and swollen, his hair was disheveled, and his armor was twisted; he looked utterly wretched.

It was clear he had just been beaten severely.

"My Lord! Lord Suleiman!"

The rider's nosebleed flowed into his mouth, making his speech stutter and garbled with blood, his appearance miserable.

"Ahead... ahead... there is a town!"

"We... we... encountered... a Wildling inside!"

"But... but it feels... like... he might not be a Wildling!"

The rider realized he was stuttering, so he quickly tilted his head back and pinched his nose.

"The six of us prepared to take him down! We never expected his swordsmanship to be terrifyingly strong!"

"Five brothers were beaten down! Along with some villagers who tried to help! Only I managed to retreat in the chaos to report to you, My Lord!"

Suleiman was somewhat surprised and asked again:

"One person?"

The Mountain Clans usually moved in packs and rarely acted alone, let alone one person wreaking havoc in a town.

"Yes, My Lord! Just one! He doesn't look sturdy! He's actually quite thin! But he wields his longsword with incredible skill!" the rider gestured.

The soldiers heard the situation and were immediately enraged!

Every village along the way had been plagued by Wildlings!

And now, the small town they had finally found!

Was actually being terrorized by a Wildling!

Everyone looked at Suleiman with expectant eyes.

Lushen and Roslyn also rode forward, awaiting the orders of Lord Suleiman.

During this time, this troop had won battle after battle.

In their eyes, the Wildlings were no longer as powerful or fearsome as they once seemed.

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

"Everyone! Move out!"

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

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

Five injured soldiers lay on the ground.

A lean man with black hair, black eyes, messy stubble, and wearing animal skins.

He was rummaging through their belongings, taking their hard-earned money.

He stood there, momentarily stunned by the sheer amount of coin in the bags.

Then, he looked up and saw the crowd of people arriving.

Without the slightest hesitation, the man pointed the tip of the longsword in his hand downward, and with a crisp metallic sound—

"Clang."

—it was driven into the soil beside him.

The coin purse in his hand was also tossed aside carelessly.

It looked as if it were something the other party had simply dropped by accident.

He raised both hands high, signaling that he was harmless.

Yet, a flash of shrewdness and a barely perceptible trace of embarrassment flickered in his eyes.

At the same time, he shouted aloud, "I am no Wildling, my lord!"

"This is a misunderstanding!"

Suleiman spurred his horse forward, while the soldiers followed in front of the horse with their weapons raised.

Lushen and Roslyn rode on either side.

Suleiman pointed his hand toward the five soldiers lying on the ground, wailing and beaten to a pulp:

"This doesn't look like a misunderstanding, does it?"

He had some guesses about this man's identity, but he needed the man to confirm it himself.

The man pointed at the fallen soldiers, forcing a somewhat strained smile onto his face:

"It really is a misunderstanding, my lord!"

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

"The reason I am wearing animal skins is to pose as a Wildling so I could break through the lines to seek reinforcements!"

"During the fight, I shouted my identity at the top of my lungs!"

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

"Lord Suleiman, he did seem to be shouting something, but it was so chaotic at the time that I couldn't hear a thing," the rider reported truthfully, touching his injured cheek.

Seeing that the rider had verified the matter.

And this young nobleman had not ordered an attack.

"My lord! Your soldiers, the moment they saw me!"

"They charged right at me! As if they had spotted a fat sheep!"

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

Suleiman said nothing.

He spurred his horse to stand before the man, looking down at him from the side, "What is your name, mercenary?"

"My lord."

"My name is Bronn."