The young imperial viscount was awakened from his sleep by his personal guards, and then an explosive piece of news entered his mind:
"Viscount's House... uh, Commander (not fully recruited) sir..."
"A scout squad sneaked into a sandcastle under cover of night, killed the fortress knights and many skeleton soldiers inside, stole a lot of weapons, and even nine skeleton horses!"
The viscount, who was annoyed at being woken up, paused in his face-wiping motion, then abruptly raised his head:
"Are you kidding me? How could ten Low Tier soldiers kill a single fortress knight?"
The viscount, who had just woken up, felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water and instantly became alert. However, because the matter was so outrageous, his first reaction was naturally to be suspicious.
Upon seeing the young master's attitude, the guard quickly explained:
"Those ten people came from the same village and were all hunters. They had fought many monsters in the mountains before, so although they were Low Tier, they had worked together well since childhood and were brave and daring to fight."
"And also... not all ten of them came back. One of them died over there, and we couldn't even retrieve his body."
"In addition, two others were seriously injured, and it's uncertain whether they can be saved. The rest were all wounded, and they might not have made it back if they hadn't stolen the Kuruma."
After explaining for a while, the guard remembered something else and quickly added:
"You've met the leader before; he was praised for his strong physique during recruitment."
Is that so?
The young viscount fell into deep thought.
He certainly knew about this, but the problem was that it had happened more than once, and quite frequently.
During the process of conscripting men, whenever he encountered a decent farmer, he would offer a compliment, since compliments didn't cost anything.
Unlike the rigidly hierarchical old nobles of the kingdom, the new nobles of the empire, who have been shackled by Stral, sometimes deliberately act approachable in an attempt to win people's hearts.
As for whether this was just acting...
Of course, there was an element of acting involved, but it was still better than the old kingdom's nobles not acting at all.
The phrase "What a brave warrior! Fight with me!" sounds much better than "Get out of here, you lowly commoner, don't get in my way!"
After thinking for a while without coming up with a specific image, the young viscount stopped thinking about it and continued to ask:
"This is a truly significant achievement. If we were to claim credit, would there be any concrete evidence?"
Of course!
The guards around him understood his personality and also understood what he meant.
Skeleton horses, weapons, and skeletons—in the end, they're all things you can get by simply killing a few skeleton riders.
Without concrete evidence, it remains uncertain whether this merit will ultimately be approved according to the empire's military merit system.
The guards, who were already prepared, immediately knelt on one knee, presented a mostly crystallized skull with both hands, and said with barely concealed excitement:
"Congratulations, Your Excellency, you can now report your merits!"
Staring at the crystal-clear skull before him, the young viscount remained stunned for a long while before murmuring in a low voice:
"It's actually real... it really is a Middle Tier bone..."
He quickly looked at his personal guards, his focus finally shifting from the magnitude of the merit to a specific individual:
"Which hundred-man squad does this meritorious scout team belong to?"
"Reporting to Your Excellency, it's the centurion's team [ Practice More If You're Bad ], and the scout deacon is named [ Howling Pothos ]."
"[ Howling Pothos ]? I vaguely remember it."
The viscount stroked the still-soft stubble on his chin:
I need to see both of them right now!
"Yes, sir!"
Soon, Centurion [ Practice More If You're Bad ] and Demeritman [ Howling Pothos ] were brought before the young Viscount.
The viscount looked [ Howling Pothos ] up and down, and felt that he had really struck gold that this country bumpkin had such skills.
"Okay, okay."
He offered a heartfelt compliment, then immediately noticed the wound that ran from the other person's shoulder down to their abdomen.
The wound that turned [ Howling Pothos ] into a ripped-out pig a few hours ago has now mostly healed, but there is still some bleeding and scab formation.
Looking at the wound, the young viscount couldn't help but feel puzzled:
"[ Howling Pothos ], right? What's your symbiotic animal?"
"Reporting to the Viscount!"
[ Howling Pothos ] immediately switched to the Big Head Soldier persona and began explaining its abilities.
Players who chose to participate in this large-scale event knew that even if they could be resurrected with a different face every time they died, some unique traits of the players would eventually be noticed by the NPCs of the Empire and the Alliance.
After all, these guys are far more intelligent than ordinary NPCs, and they won't ignore those particularly obvious bugs.
Therefore, [ Practice More If You're Bad ] and [ Howling Pothos ] had already discussed this before entering the camp:
"What I have are not symbiotic animals, but symbiotic plants."
As he spoke, he had already extended a tree branch from his sleeve and shown it to the young viscount in front of him.
Symbiotic plants?
The young viscount paused for a moment and asked:
Where is your hometown?
"Northern Territory of the Empire, Green Forest Territory."
"So that's where it was."
The viscount suddenly realized and muttered to himself:
"In the Green Forest Territory, which borders the Tree Worship Church Theocracy, I do recall some mountain people who choose to live in symbiosis with plants rather than animals."
He looked at [ Howling Pothos ] again. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but this time, staring at [ Howling Pothos ]'s face, he actually felt that the other person's appearance was quite different from that of a normal Imperial person.
"Since that's the case..."
The Viscount pondered for a moment and said:
"Then you definitely can't write."
Without waiting for [ Howling Pothos ]'s response, the Viscount had already looked at [ Practice More If You're Bad ]:
"Centurion, after all, it was your subordinate who performed meritorious service. Write a report of merit, and I will have my personal guard deliver it to my father."
Standing in front of the Viscount, [ Howling Pothos ] took a deep breath and somewhat understood what the other party meant.
He asked [ Practice More If You're Bad ] in the chat box:
"Are they treating me like I'm illiterate?"
"It's even worse than that. In his eyes, you're basically a savage now, equivalent to the Wuhuan or the Bandun Man."
"Not a buddy..."
"It's alright, the savages are quite nice too. They can save us a lot of delicate work—who would be so foolish as to assign delicate tasks to savages?"
[ Practice More If You're Bad ] responded to [ Howling Pothos ] while accepting the task assigned by the young viscount. He found a table in the tent and immediately began to write.
At the same time, he didn't forget to reply to the other person in the chat, thus ending the game completely:
"May I call you Shamoke from now on?"
"..."
Although [ Howling Pothos ] was furious, he had nothing else to do, so he stood next to [ Practice More If You're Bad ] and watched this veteran who had been in the empire longer than him write a commendation document.
Just then, he suddenly heard the young viscount's voice:
"[ Howling Pothos ], right? Come here and tell me about your actions tonight."