"Not familiar with it."
When questioned by Ducare and Qaisatusta, Scar Eye crossed his arms and gave a very straightforward answer.
"But I've heard that this team has taken on a large number of highly difficult manhunt missions. Judging from the speed at which they complete these missions, it would be impossible without reliable intelligence support."
Qaisatusta's face still wore that same smile, or rather, it had never changed.
"As the head of the Scar Market, does Mr. Scar Eye have anything to say?"
"Can I stop someone from taking on a mission?" Scar Eye retorted without any politeness.
"If you really have something to say... when asking for help, you should at least use polite language."
Qaisatusta squinted:
"I see. Then... 'Please,' Scar Eye, inform us of their whereabouts."
"I refuse."
The crisp refusal silenced the two men. Ducare observed the Scar Eye with great interest.
"Interesting. What gives you this confidence? The mysterious leader of that squad?"
[Golden Storm]--
This medium-sized mercenary group of fifty men appeared out of nowhere in Kazdel, only taking on the most difficult wanted orders.
Legend has it that they arrived with thunderous roars, unleashing a golden storm that crushed all enemies in their path.
The official leader is a mercenary named Hedley, but a little investigation reveals that Hedley was far less powerful when he operated in Kazdel in the past.
Ducare didn't investigate further; there was only one reason that piqued his interest.
"Have you heard the rumor that Blood Butcher died in Catastrophe?"
Ducare's tone was playful as the bloodline silently snaked around Scar Eye's neck.
"A powerful Vampire, ironically, died in Catastrophe after someone accepted his arrest warrant."
Scar Eye seemed oblivious to the chill on his neck, Qaisatusta took a half-step back without making a sound.
"It's probably just a coincidence," Scar Eye retorted, his tone flawless.
"Or... do you suspect that the Catastrophe was man-made?"
Ducare, of course, didn't believe it—if he truly possessed such power, why would he need to be a mercenary?
However, he knew Blood Butcher's strength; his combat power wasn't top-tier. It was that interesting Originium Arts that was the reason he spared Blood Butcher's life in the first place.
Having accumulated so much over time, Blood Butcher should have gathered quite a few "companions" around him.
The fact that he was killed by Catastrophe means that the opponent must have possessed the power to drive Blood Butcher into a desperate situation even when surrounded by multiple skilled opponents.
"If you really want to recruit them, you might as well wait a while longer," Scar Eye continued, as if nothing had happened.
"At their pace, they'll soon complete all the objectives and return to the Scar Market to submit the mission. We'll meet then."
Ducare withdrew the bloodline, walked past Scar Eye, and sat down in the seat behind him.
"Then I'll wait here, is that alright?"
Watching the other person effortlessly rummage through his wine bottles, Scar Eye's voice was deep:
"Of course, I will arrange accommodations for you. However... my stock of treasures from Victoria is also running low."
"It's alright," Ducare said, swirling the bright red liquid in his glass. "We can use blood instead."
"... I will try my best to purchase them."
Scar Eye turned around and looked at Qaisatusta, who had been silently observing:
"I know your goal; they are not in one place. If you wish to find her, go to..."
"Scar Eye is as efficient as ever."
Having received his answer, Qaisatusta turned and left without lingering.
Scar Eye stared coldly at his retreating figure, and Ducare's voice drifted out:
"Are you lying to him?"
"Of course not," Scar Eye said frankly. "As long as you do as I say, Lord Qaisatusta will surely meet the 'target' he is looking for."
Ducare remained noncommittal, as if it were just a casual question. Scar Eye followed up with:
"General Theresis is about to depart, and I still have many matters concerning the allocation of supplies to attend to. Would Your Majesty like to come along?"
As expected, he was rejected and Scar Eye to escape.
After changing directions several times in the intricate alleyways, Scar Eye finally slipped into an inconspicuous shop and pushed open the door.
A polite greeting won't delay the conversation, while a sudden intrusion will only make me see you as an enemy and cause unnecessary conflict. (Translation: Remember to knock before you come in)
Upon entering, he was met with a barrage of words that struck him directly in the face, giving Scar Eye a headache.
"If you really don't want to get into that trouble," he sighed, slamming the door shut behind him.
"In the first place, we should never have stepped into this place of trouble."
That's why I've stayed here and haven't left.
Kal'tsit's voice was steady, but Scar Eye's tone was unfriendly:
"You should stay put. Although I don't know how you survived General Theresis's sword, if he can kill you once, he can do it again."
"My life is irrelevant."
Kal'tsit was not annoyed, and responded calmly:
"Use it only where necessary."
"So what brings you here this time?"
"I invited her."
A gentle voice came from behind. Theresa appeared, looking at Scar Eye with a hint of apology in her eyes.
"I had intended to invite Kal'tsit to the meeting as well," Theresa explained softly.
"But I never expected that my brother would gather so many members of the Royal Court."
Scar Eye rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
To this day, he still finds it hard to understand how His Highness became such a close friend of this "enemy" who once led the army to attack Kazdel.
He sighed deeply and turned to the two of them:
"The Vampire Demon Lord is still lingering here. To be on the safe side, I've prepared an evacuation route, but..." He glanced at the Banshee playing with Bone Pen by the door.
"It seems you two no longer need it."
Theresa nodded slightly. Kal'tsit, however, cut straight to the point, turning her gaze to Logos:
"What are the topics of discussion among the assembled rulers of the Royal Court?"
"A Great Yan is heading towards Kazdel." Logos's voice was calm and unwavering.
The issue is: whether or not to be His enemy.
Kal'tsit's ever-present expression showed a very slight hint of surprise, which quickly returned to normal.
Theresa teased softly:
"Even Kal'tsit can be unaware of something?"
Ignoring her friend's teasing, Kal'tsit pressed on:
"In conclusion?"
Logos looked at Theresa, who sighed softly:
"My brother has decided... to lead the people away from Kazdel."
"And what about you?" Kal'tsit's gaze was fixed on Theresa. Knowing her friend as she did, the answer was undoubtedly...
"I want to contact Him."
Theresa's voice was gentle yet firm. Kal'tsit closed her eyes and did not refute.
Naive? Of course, naive.
But it was this almost stubborn light of idealism that attracted Kal'tsit, and countless others willing to fight for her.
She didn't dwell on it; her mind raced, analyzing the chain reaction this series of decisions would trigger. She turned to Scar Eye:
Will the Scar Market also withdraw?
"We will leave some staff behind to maintain basic operations."
Kal'tsit frowned. Leaving some behind meant the main force would leave.
The Babel Tower currently relies heavily on the Scar Market for most of its supplies. If the Scar Market were to withdraw, even the most basic food supplies could become unsustainable.
Theresa clearly realized this as well, and her eyes showed worry.
Noticing His Highness's gaze, Scar Eye raised his hands:
"Spare me, Your Highness. The Scar Market cannot remain neutral forever."
Theresa understood this perfectly well. The foundation of the Scar Market was mercenaries, and Theresis would never abandon this force if she were to embark on a long journey.
"What about the supply channels?" Kal'tsit pressed Scar Eye. "Now that the main force has left, you don't need so many channels anymore."
"You really think you can buy those supplies from outside just with money?" Scar Eye retorted sarcastically.
"What do you think all these mercenaries under our command do on a daily basis?"
The reality is harsh. Few forces are willing to trade with the Sarkaz, let alone with those behind the scenes with Kazdel.
Every time a large volume of goods is traded, the Scar Market pays not only with money, but also with the hidden cost of mobilizing mercenaries to "clear obstacles" for the other party.
Such a price is naturally unacceptable to the Babel Tower, which advocates for peace.
Kal'tsit's expression remained unchanged, but she had already begun to sift through a list of "old acquaintances" in her mind who could temporarily provide assistance.
Just as the leaders of Babel Tower were struggling with the future shortage of supplies, on the other side of Kazdel—
Wow! New equipment!
The mercenaries stared wide-eyed at the neatly stacked black standard armor on the ground.
A mercenary stepped forward, tapped the surface of the armor, and his eyes lit up—it was more sturdy and heavy than he had expected.
Everyone involuntarily looked at Vera, who stood quietly to the side, their eyes filled with anticipation.
"Stop looking, try it on to see if it fits."
"Long live the boss!"
The mercenaries swarmed forward, carefully selecting their armor despite its uniformity.
Those slaves who had been rescued and integrated into the ranks now joined in with calm expressions.
They had already said too many words of gratitude, and after Vera made it clear that she was fed up, they unanimously decided to prove their loyalty with actions.
As Hedley brushed his mount's fur, he glanced at Vera out of the corner of his eye.
Her figure flickered slightly from time to time, and after each flicker, several weapons or supplies would appear in the open space of the camp.
The mercenaries quickly changed their clothes.
Covered entirely in black armor, with only their eyebrows and eyes visible beneath the menacing horned helmets, the entire camp exuded a chilling atmosphere.
In a corner of the camp, Liz and the children gazed enviously at the group of newly transformed warriors.
They were explicitly told not to participate in combat, and therefore did not need to be equipped with armor.
Shining gently combed Liz's smooth, long hair, sensing her emotions:
"Don't worry, Liz. Your power isn't meant for this."
"I know, but..."
Liz looked down at her pale but limp hands, her voice dazed.
"Do you all... really need my power?"
Since joining the team, she has never had a moment to use that ability.
The mercenaries rarely got injured, and even if they did suffer minor injuries, those miraculous potions could restore them to full health with just one application.
Despite everyone's exceptional care for her and repeated emphasis on her importance, the girl still couldn't help but waver about whether she could live up to those expectations.
"In that case, take good care of your health."
A familiar voice came from the side. Shining took two steps back, making way.
Vera crouched down and gently pressed Liz's calf:
"How are you feeling? Can you stand up straight now?"
"Yes, thanks to your medicine."
Liz answered softly, her unease stemming not only from her own "uselessness" but also from this excessive concern.
She receives a whole bottle of those precious potions every day, even though each official mercenary is only given one.
She held onto Vera's arm, her body trembling slightly as she straightened up, her blonde hair swaying gently with the movement.
The girl raised her head and looked at Vera hopefully:
"Please let me do something, at least..."
Before she could finish speaking, Vera reached out and ruffled her soft hair, interrupting her plea.
"So what can you do now?"
Liz lowered her head in disappointment. Vera looked at her and sighed inwardly.
Can you sing?
"Sing?" Liz paused, taken aback.
"Hmm. Camp life is too monotonous. A little music during meals would make it much better."
The girl's eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed again.
"But... I don't know how..."
"Ines."
Vera raised her voice, Ines, who was checking equipment not far away, came over upon hearing it.
Can you sing?
Ines paused for a moment, then nodded—it would be abnormal for someone from Leithanien not to know anything about music.
"You teach her."
Seeing the expectant look Liz suddenly gave her, Ines hadn't planned to refuse, but she was still a little confused:
Why me?
Vera silently raised her hand and pointed to the group of mercenaries who were excitedly testing each other's armor sturdiness, making a clattering sound.
"You're counting on them?"
"... Understood."
Vera then ruffled the hair of the children next to her, before turning to Hedley to discuss the details of the final mission objective.
Seeing her leave, W, who had been watching from the side with his arms crossed, swayed over.
Ines glanced at her sideways as she walked straight toward Liz.
"That..."
Liz looked at the Sarkaz who was always somewhat enigmatic, with a hint of doubt.
"Ms. W, is there anything I can help you with?"
"Your hair," W said bluntly.
"Huh?"
Under the curious gazes of several people around him, W clicked his tongue and added:
"Let me touch your hair."
"Um... okay." Although confused, Liz obediently lowered her head slightly.
W reached out and grabbed a strand of soft, golden hair, twirling it between her fingertips and then kneading it.
The silky smooth touch made her thoughtful—could it be that Vera liked to rub this child's head because of this feel?
Ines saw through her thoughts and scoffed without any politeness:
"Don't even think about it, that's just how other people are born. As for yours—ha."
W's temple throbbed, he glared at Ines, and with a slightly stiff "Thank you" in a low voice, he turned and left.
"So she can say thank you."
The children whispered in amazement behind them.
W, who had already taken a few steps, stumbled, then quickened his pace, moving away from the group.
In the distance, Hedley stopped what he was doing when he saw Vera approaching.
The Berserk Boar grunted in dissatisfaction, but immediately fell silent upon spotting Vera.
During this time, it has seen many of its disobedient kin turn into sizzling chunks of meat on the campfire.
How many targets are left on the list?
"The last one."
Hedley pulled out the list and crossed out the previous name with a charcoal pencil.
Vera nodded. With the last objective achieved, this trip should come to an end.
Thinking of this, she casually asked:
What are your plans after the mission is over?
The surrounding noise instantly subsided, Hedley could feel many eyes focused on him.
"Would you... mind if we continued to follow you?"
The gaze softened, Hedley secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
"Follow?" Vera frowned slightly.
"I will not take away what I have given you. After the deed is done, each of you will receive a generous reward, enough for you to do whatever you want."
"If it were before, I might have found a place to become a teacher, or opened a small shop..."
Hedley's gaze involuntarily drifted to Ines not far away, then quickly returned.
"And now?"
"Still the same."
"Then why...?"
"But I think we can do more now." Hedley met Vera's gaze frankly.
"Not just for myself."
"... I don't understand."
Vera turned her face away and didn't mention breaking up again.
During this time, seeing her brothers gradually interact with the locals, especially Gorth who gathered so many refugees, her resentment towards leading mercenaries did indeed lessen considerably.
At worst, we can go back and discuss it with them, gather our respective men together, and then we can look out for each other.
A weight lifted from her heart, and she nodded.
"It's up to you. If you really have nowhere to go, I can recommend a few options."
The atmosphere in the camp seemed to instantly lighten, and even the air seemed to circulate more freely.
Once everyone was familiar with the new armor, Vera gathered the team again and dropped another bombshell:
"You can put the crossbows away now; you have a new toy."
"There's more?!" The mercenaries clicked their tongues in astonishment.
Just how wealthy is this gang leader? Food, medicine, armor, weapons... she buys them all like they're free.
Is it really zero cost?
Despite their inner complaints, everyone's eyes lit up with anticipation.
However, when Vera's figure flashed again, dropping the hideous weapon on the ground, the anticipation instantly turned into silence.
"This is... a gun?" someone asked hesitantly.
The rugged, massive bronze fuselage, with six rotating gun barrels gleaming with a dark red sheen... it looked as if six standard firearms had been crudely fused together.
What's even more chilling is that there were dozens of these weapons lying on the ground.
"Which Laterano army did the boss mob up?"
One mercenary muttered to himself, while another, looking troubled, scratched his head and stepped forward:
"I'm sorry, boss, I might... have to disappoint you." His tone was bitter.
"I have very low adaptability to firearms, so there's a high chance I won't be able to use them."
(Note: Laterano guns are essentially more like "gun-shaped staves" and require Originium Arts to activate.)
Many mercenaries also showed expressions of disappointment.
"Who told you this is a 'gun'?"
Amidst the bewildered gazes of the crowd, Vera casually picked up a rifle, aimed it at the distant rock face, and pulled the trigger.
Buzz--!
A barrage of crimson bullets bombarded the open space, shattering everyone's worldview along with the rocks.
The mercenaries looked on as if they'd seen a ghost, many glancing at the crossbows in their hands and then at the weapons on the ground.
Isn't this equipment upgrade a bit too drastic?
"Don't worry, it just looks like a gun."
Seeing that no one believed her, Vera shoved the weapon into the hand of the mercenary who said he wasn't used to it.
"Fire."
"Huh? But I..."
"I'm telling you to fire."
Vera remained expressionless. The mercenary swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.
Buzz--!!
The same crimson storm swept out again, tearing open another patch of ground. The mercenary stared wide-eyed at the carnage before him:
"This... this is something I did?"
"Do you believe me now?"
The crowd nodded blankly, their movements perfectly synchronized.
The mercenary hesitated before pulling the trigger again, but this time there was no response.
Vera pointed to an inconspicuous dark red fleshy structure on the side of the weapon:
"Do you see that?"
Only then did everyone look closely and notice the anomaly. Shining frowned slightly:
"This is... biological tissue?"
"That's right."
Vera was somewhat surprised by her keen insight and readily admitted it.
"This weapon doesn't rely on Originium Arts; its energy source is this flesh and blood. When it runs out of energy, this is what we do—"
As she spoke, she punched the dark red mass of tissue.
Pfft
The tissue twitched, and the energy patterns on the weapon hummed.
The mercenaries' expressions became very strange, as if they wanted to say something but hesitated.
Vera asked in confusion, "What's wrong? Is there a problem?"
"Did you make all of these?" a mercenary asked cautiously.
"No." Vera shook her head.
Everyone visibly breathed a sigh of relief.
"It was my family who made it."
Everyone's faces were blank. Rice raised his hand:
"Boss... your family members aren't Vampire, are they?"
How did you know?
The crowd squinted, silently observing the flesh and blood on the weapon.
Besides Vampire, whose art style would be like this?!
After the initial shock came overwhelming joy. Everyone picked up their weapons, and many Sarkaz kissed and caressed them like lovers.
In Kazdel, weapons are a second life, and that's no joke.
Ines hesitated, looking at the rough weapon, while W moved closer.
"You don't want it?"
Ines hesitated before nodding, but W snatched it away.
"Then I'll take two."
Some were immersed in joy, while others were thinking more deeply.
A mercenary whispered to his companion beside him.
"You said the boss is distributing armor and weapons... could it be that she's planning something big?"
"You mean..."
His companion's face turned serious, and the surrounding mercenaries pricked up their ears.
"Haven't Babita and the Military Commission been quite quiet lately...?"
Hiss--!
Before the mercenary could finish speaking, everyone gasped.
What are you talking about?
Vera looked over in confusion, and the others exchanged glances.
"Boss, who are you going to kill!"
Vera: "???"
Vera was a little confused. Seeing everyone's excited expressions, she thought they wanted to test the weapon, so she announced the name of the next target.
"Oh, is this it..."
The mercenaries' tone immediately turned disappointed. Shining stepped forward and whispered to Vera.
I will clear all obstacles for you.
The mercenaries' eyes sharpened instantly. "You newbie, trying to run away?!"
"Me too!"
"Offering a heart to the boss!"
"Uh... me too!"
The mercenaries eagerly expressed their loyalty, Vera waved them away impatiently.
"Alright, alright, I know you're all excited."
Turning to Hedley, the man wielding a greatsword, he too was now lovingly caressing his weapon.
"Let's organize some training, so we don't hurt our own people in the fighting."
Hedley nodded, then stood up and asked:
"What is the name of this weapon?"
Vera tilted her head, looking at the people's hideous attire, and a name slipped out.
"[Butcher]"