The women screamed at the top of their lungs. Those eager to watch the spectacle pushed inward, while the timid fled outward. The street, already cluttered with junk and rubbish, instantly dissolved into chaos. The corners of Field's mouth lifted, and he nodded to Iron Hammer.
Relying on their armor, Iron Hammer and the others swaggered into the crowd and led away the bearded man's horse, laden with goods.
Lance's eyes widened, their whites bloodshot as he stared at everything in disbelief. Everything had been going according to his plan. How had it suddenly turned out like this?
That stupid baron! Damn him!
"Damn it, the money and goods!"
Lance realized what Field was after, and cold sweat immediately ran down his back. The worst part was that the sum he had embezzled was far from small, and now Field had taken it all! Once Baron Adrian found out, he would surely skin him alive.
Lance muttered to himself, "I was only messing with him. No, it wasn't even that. This was nothing more than legitimate business competition! How could he resort to such despicable methods?"
Amid the chaotic crowd, Lance spotted Field standing on the steps.
"Having fun?" Field mouthed, then made a blade of his hand and drew it across his neck twice. Leaving Lance staring in stunned disbelief, he turned and strode away.
"Come on. Forget buying supplies for now. We're heading outside the city. Also, have someone keep an eye on Cooch."
Field stretched luxuriously, inwardly ecstatic. Today was a good day. He had pocketed nearly another two thousand gold coins. Sure enough, once he cast off the shackles of conventional morality, gold coins came pouring in like a tide.
You little punk. You actually dared to mess with me.
Time to give him a little taste of real corporate warfare.
Corporate warfare in the imagination: business elites relying on wisdom and strategy to engage in brilliant contests of wits.
Corporate warfare in reality: spend a little money and solve the problem through physical force.
"My lord, that was Pockface just now. It cost eight gold coins in all. I swear by the goddess that I followed your instructions to the letter and never once mentioned your name." With an ingratiating smile, the guard handed over the remaining coins.
"Very well done." Field rewarded him with two silver coins.
The other guards looked on enviously. Two silver coins just for delivering a message! From now on, they would have to make sure the baron noticed them more often.
The next day, at the outskirts of Mapleleaf City.
Cooch's caravan moved swiftly, its wagons loaded with valuable goods. Hooves rang pleasantly against the flagstone road, while the supernatural knight Gareth rode a handsome black Northern Tournament Horse.
"So many potions. Baron Adrian is far too rich." Gareth eyed the wagons enviously, almost able to hear the clinking of the crystal potion bottles. "If I had a chest of potions, I could easily advance to a third-tier knight."
He had been stuck at the peak of the second tier for two years. With wars so scarce in recent years, however, he had no opportunity to make serious money and could only while away his days guarding caravans.
"You bastard!" A curse suddenly came from inside the carriage. Gareth jumped and stared at it for a long while. Once he was sure Cooch was not coming out, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had thought his muttering had been overheard.
Cooch's face was ashen as he snarled, "Why did you provoke the baron?"
"Then why do we have to leave Mapleleaf City immediately?" Rather than answer directly, Lance wore a defiant expression.
"Because this is Baron Simon's territory! What else do you want to do? Go and mess with Baron Simon?"
"Uh, I'm sorry, Father, but we should report this to Baron Simon and have Field arrested." Lance seethed with indignation. "Besides, he killed Big Nose. I saw it with my own eyes. If necessary, I can testify."
"Forget Big Nose. To a noble, what's the difference between a dead commoner and a dead rat?"
"And another thing, you fool. Do you know what happens to someone who falsely accuses a noble? There wouldn't be a place for us anywhere on the continent. Even if the accusation isn't false, the nobles will automatically treat it as such." Cooch sucked in a cold breath and clutched his head, which throbbed and buzzed. "I never imagined you were this stupid. It seems years of pampered living have made you think you're above everyone, to the point that you even dare consider yourself part of the nobility."
Nobles excelled at closing ranks. They might fight one another tooth and nail in ordinary circumstances, but when faced with an attack from the lower classes, they became remarkably united.
Only after crushing the lower classes with warhorses and lances would they greedily resume their infighting over the spoils.
Their class interests dictated it.
If Field could be brought down by someone from the lower classes, the authority of every other noble would immediately suffer. A second and third noble brought down by commoners would soon follow.
Unlike the disorganized lower classes, nobles genuinely helped one another when trouble came!
That was also why, even when Field had nothing, no slave or servant had mocked him. At most, his steward had dared to grumble.
Cooch looked as though he had aged thirty years. "I may throw my weight around in front of the servants, and other merchants may respect me, but one word from Baron Adrian would have me hanged that very day. They wouldn't even wait until morning. You're no different. If you really reported Field, you would be the first person Baron Simon killed. Then he would go to Adrian and Field to discuss what he stood to gain."
Lance went cold all over. "Then what do we do?" he asked fearfully.
"First, we return to Fulan City and tell the baron that Field is still alive. Baron Adrian will deal with him. As for the two-thousand-gold-coin shortfall, I'll have to think carefully about whether to cook the books or say Field sent men to rob us."
"Rob us? Field couldn't possibly have the strength to rob us, and Sir Gareth wouldn't give false testimony for us either." Lance remained indignant. "Field is just a treacherous little bastard."
"If you hadn't sworn by the goddess, I would still have thought Field was a coward. I never imagined he could kill someone." Even Cooch thought that excuse was far too implausible. Everyone knew Field had no power base. "You were the fool who thought himself clever enough to mess with him."
Rumble, rumble!
"What's that sound?"
Before either of them could lean out of the carriage, they heard the supernatural knight Gareth say, "Some bandits are trying to raid our Fulan City caravan. They really have a death wish. Don't they know I'm here?"
Cooch stepped out of the carriage and immediately spotted twenty medium-armored cavalrymen ranging along the caravan's right flank, their bodies wrapped in black robes and assault lances in their hands. Fierce winds howled, occasionally revealing gleaming scale and lamellar armor beneath their robes. They looked just like the Ringwraiths from The Lord of the Rings.
Evil, cold, and steeped in an aura of slaughter.
You call these fucking bandits? Cooch instinctively wanted to curse, but Gareth's unconcerned expression immediately put him at ease. "Whew, I panicked. With a second-tier Battle Aura Knight here, there's nothing to worry about."
Against supernatural power, ordinary cavalry really were no different from bandits. They would die at the first clash.
Before you continue