"I don't quite understand what you mean. Brother, now that you've eaten, you should head back."
[ Practice More If You're Bad ] He insisted that the other party had simply misheard, rather than that there was anything good waiting for them, and completely disregarded the centurion, treating him like a child.
The centurion was annoyed by the attitude of " the Practice More If You're Bad "
The outline of yesterday's arson plan resurfaced in his mind, and fueled by hatred and jealousy, the wicked idea began to sprout and grow like bamboo shoots after a spring rain.
"Brother, listen to my advice—"
"The waters here are very deep; you can't handle it."
The centurion put his arm around [ Practice More If You're Bad ]'s shoulder, even though the other man was tall and strong, more than half a head taller than him.
"It is true that you have a hundred men, but the Viscount has already given military orders requiring us to act with caution."
"He doesn't have many men to begin with, and he practically has to split each one in half to make the most of them, so he can't send them all out at once."
"Really."
[ Practice More If You're Bad ] His expression was somewhat unpleasant:
But we can do it a few more times.
"Bro, do you even believe that yourself?"
The centurion narrowed his eyes, as if he could see through the thoughts of the Soul Returner:
Will a sandcastle remain empty for a long time? Will no one want the good stuff inside?
"You send some troops, I'll send some troops, and we can try to bring them all back at once. Isn't that much better than your plan?"
"Even if new skeletons have already garrisoned the sandcastle, with our two elite hundred-man squads combined, we can definitely take it down again."
As he spoke, he looked at [ the Practice More If You're Bad "]:
"After it's done, I'll take a small loss; you get 60% and I get 40%, right?"
"I have quite a few old buddies here, their weapons are practically unused for ages..."
"..."
After a moment of silence, [ Practice More If You're Bad ] seemed to have made up his mind:
"I get seven, you get three."
"Make a deal!"
A pair of large hands clasped tightly together, making a crisp sound.
Despite the Spread hatred in his heart, the centurion still displayed the qualities expected of a veteran scoundrel from the Empire.
Even if he's about to stab someone in the next second, he can still show that expression he only displays in front of his brothers who have risked their lives for him.
After much pleading and cajoling, [ Practice More If You're Bad ] finally reluctantly agreed to the centurion's request.
The time for the surprise attack was also set accordingly—tonight.
Although he felt it was a bit rushed, time was of the essence, which was the centurion's initial reason, so he naturally couldn't refute the arrangement of " Practice More If You're Bad," otherwise he would be contradicting himself.
A day passed quickly, and as darkness gradually fell, the centurion grew increasingly anxious.
He was already fully armed, dressed in the imperial standard armor, pacing back and forth in his tent.
The centurion was wide awake tonight, though he shouldn't have been sleeping at all.
His team was assigned to night watch, which was why he was somewhat reluctant to send troops out tonight.
However, having been stationed here for more than half a month, the Skeleton Alliance's sentry cavalry have indeed rarely been able to get close to the vicinity, let alone launch a night raid, which has never happened before.
So, diverting a few people out of the way won't cause any problems...
Is that right?
"Centurion."
Guard Xiuyi Aluode opens the tent flap:
"[ Practice More If You're Bad ] The master's messenger has arrived."
"Let him in."
The centurion's heart skipped a beat, and soon a young mountain dweller with darting eyes appeared:
"Centurion Atli, [ Practice More If You're Bad ], my lord sent me to inform you that you may depart. Our troops are waiting for you on the dry riverbed three miles to the east."
"Good!"
Centurion Atli, who had finally received good news, waved his hand dismissively:
" Aluode, gather the brothers, let's go! It's time to get everyone some new gear!"
"Yes!"
The two guards, one having completed his task and the other having received his orders, turned and left one after the other.
After walking a dozen or so steps, the Soul Returner in front deliberately slowed their pace.
When Xiuyi Aluode came to within two body lengths of him, he suddenly whispered:
"The centurion ([ Practice More If You're Bad ]) asked me to tell you—if you encounter danger, move closer to our ranks."
Upon hearing this promise of protection, which sounded like a blessing, Xiuyi instantly became radiant.
Tonight's operation was destined to be dangerous, but he knew that as long as he could get through this hurdle, he could successfully complete the jump-off.
"Tonight it was Atli's 100-man squad's turn to keep watch, but he actually took more than half of them to divide the spoils?"
"Although our thousand-man team only has six hundred men, and our scouts have never made a mistake, that's no excuse for him to let his guard down, is it?"
I really didn't think he would be that stupid.
The young Viscount Alfonso Lange, wiping his knight's sword, asked Saili beside him:
"Old man, are all the people around my brother like this?"
The middle-aged guard standing to the side—no, he should now be called a middle-aged knight—shaked his head.
"That's not true. Such fools are extremely rare, even among the old Marquis's men."
"And so it was assigned to me."
The viscount flipped the knight's sword over and continued wiping it.
"Anyone who didn't know better would think it was a gift from my old man."
You can understand it that way too.
Saili said:
"Aren't you just unwrapping a gift right now?"
That's true.
The Viscount nodded:
"I didn't realize you had such eloquence, Saili. It seems you were hiding your talent all along."
The middle-aged knight did not deny it, but indirectly agreed with the viscount's statement in another way:
"My lord—this body, this heart, this sword, all are offered to you with unwavering loyalty."
"Okay, let's not talk about this anymore."
The young viscount sheathed his cleaned knight's sword.
"A false weakness is still a weakness. Have the guards on high alert to prevent any unforeseen events."
"Yes, sir."
Saili bowed respectfully, then walked out of the tent.
"Hey bro, what's going on over there?"
"This is terrible luck. Sandcastle has a new garrison, and they've even raised their flags."
Are you sure that's not the previous flag?
"Of course not. We destroyed the original flag long before we took the sandcastle, and you can see obvious signs of repair on the walls."
"Looks like we're a step too late, you shitty skeleton."
After passing a sand dune, Centurion Atli was in a bad mood.
I finally felt a spark, but I never expected to lose so completely.
After walking for two hours, the dozens of elite soldiers finally arrived at a point less than five miles from the sandcastle, only to find that the fortress already had a new garrison and had even been renovated.
Why is fate treating me like this?
"Alright, let's pack up and go back then."
Atli said somewhat dejectedly to [ Practice More If You're Bad ]:
Looks like I'm just unlucky.
He turned his head to look at the young centurion, who was his equal, and saw that the man had already drawn his weapon from his waist.
Damn it!