"The Thunder God Mercenary Corps disbanded not long after arriving on the Western Continent. For an organization like a mercenary corps to survive, it either needed to build an extensive network of connections, have a powerful backer, or possess formidable strength itself—with at least a Knight in command. Unfortunately, the newly arrived Thunder God Mercenary Corps had none of those three things on the Western Continent, and we were squeezed out by our peers as well. Naturally, it was hard for us to gain a foothold. After holding on for a year, the corps was set up to accept a money-losing mission. The corps commander was severely wounded during it, and a quarter of our mid- and upper-level backbone was lost in one blow. We also had to pay out a huge sum of money. After that, the Thunder God Mercenary Corps never recovered and eventually disbanded, with everyone going their separate ways..."
The three men sat around the table in the room. Reunited after so long apart, they naturally had to drink heartily. Cup after cup of the tavern's ten-year-aged peach blossom wine went down, and Jerome and Captain Colin's faces reddened. Their tongues loosened as they poured out their experiences of the past few years to Zhang Tie.
In those chaotic times, how many people driven from their homes could truly thrive like fish in water in a foreign land? Jerome and Captain Colin's experiences on the Western Continent were the very portrait of the fate of those low- and mid-level Warriors tossed about in the raging torrent of the Holy War.
Seeing the extra trace of hardship etched upon their faces, Zhang Tie sighed inwardly and drained the wine in his cup. "What happened afterward? Where did you go?"
"After leaving the Thunder God Mercenary Corps, Colin