Outside Wind Tour Castle.
"Sir Busby, there’s really no need for you to personally see off."
"It’s only proper noble etiquette to escort a guest a little further. Forgive my lack of hospitality, but territorial affairs have been extrely busy lately. I simply don’t have the ti to accompany you hunting or sightseeing."
Phield guided his warhorse slowly across the castle drawbridge while Baron Busby rode beside him.
Both n were hiding thoughts of their own.
"My lord, uh..."
A soldier jogged over in small hurried steps. He wanted to speak, but after glancing nervously at Phield, he hesitated.
"If you have sothing to say, say it."
Busby frowned and lightly raised his riding whip, joking casually.
"Don’t tell a magical beast nest caught fire. If that’s the case, I’ll have to invite Phield over for roasted at."
"N-No, my lord. It’s... Baron Phield’s soldiers. They’re beating up Mister Kretch’s n."
"Oh?"
Both barons froze briefly.
"My soldiers would never cause trouble without reason. Perhaps there’s so misunderstanding."
Phield’s protective instincts imdiately surfaced. Regardless of who was right or wrong, he seized the initiative first.
"Let’s go take a look. If my soldiers are at fault, I’ll provide compensation."
"Hm. Since Sir Phield has already said so, let’s go."
Busby rolled his eyes internally. The man had already said both the good and bad parts himself, so what else could he even say?
The group soon arrived outside the wealthy rchant Kretch’s mansion.
Dust filled the air as two groups fought fiercely together. One side consisted of Nightfall Domain soldiers without armor but still maintaining proper military formations. The other side was Kretch’s vicious hired thugs.
Newte’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared wildly and ramd one thug aside with his shoulder. Before the staggering thug could regain his balance, a Nightfall Domain soldier grabbed him and dragged him into formation, where he was instantly surrounded and kicked violently.
Whoosh!
A stone grazed past Newte’s scalp, but he did not stop moving. He charged straight toward the thug who had thrown it and smashed a punch into the man’s face.
Crack!
The thug’s nose shattered instantly as blood and mucus burst out uncontrollably.
The two sides descended into complete chaos, but the Nightfall Domain soldiers quickly gained the upper hand through their nearly fanatical fighting spirit. Large numbers of thugs were pinned to the ground and beaten rcilessly.
"A bunch of useless trash."
Baron Busby’s face reddened with anger.
His own rcenaries and thugs were being overwhelmingly beaten by Baron Phield’s soldiers. As the territory’s lord, it was humiliating.
It was like a knightly duel organized by two kings. The losing side would beco a complete laughingstock.
"Enough. Stop fighting!"
Phield’s voice carried magical power as he roared loudly.
The magic-infused shout shook the air itself and instantly forced everyone in the brawl to stop.
"What happened?"
Phield looked toward Newte.
"Captain of Nightfall Domain First Army Second Squad, explain the situation."
"My lord, Kretch refused to release them."
The mont he saw his lord, Newte regained his composure sowhat. His voice sounded aggrieved.
"I was willing to pay, but Kretch refused to release my family."
"Yeah, the sa happened with our families."
Many of the Nightfall Domain soldiers had encountered the exact sa issue.
"Sothing’s wrong. Dead serfs are normal, but all of them being dead is strange."
Phield’s heart sank instantly as alarm bells rang in his mind.
"Serfs cost money. Wasting labor and money on this scale isn’t how qualified rchants or nobles operate."
Phield turned toward Baron Busby.
"Cough, cough. Why don’t you explain it to our guest personally?"
Busby sneered and directly pointed toward Kretch.
"Honorable barons, it’s like this."
Kretch reluctantly stepped forward with obvious disdain written across his face.
"That batch of slaves was overworked. They all died."
"What?!"
"That’s impossible. How could they all die so quickly?"
The Nightfall Domain soldiers exploded with outrage.
Baron Busby also wore an expression of regret.
"My apologies, Sir Phield, but that is simply the truth. There’s no need to make such a fuss over a few lowborn commoners. Back then, I never expected you to appoint livestock like them as soldiers, or even creatively grant them civilian status."
Hearing the mockery hidden within Busby’s words, Phield slowly lowered his eyelids.
"Who I choose to use as soldiers is none of anyone else’s concern."
"Of course. That is your freedom."
Busby smiled strangely.
"But on the battlefield, commoners are hardly reliable. At the very least, they’re much slower when looting spoils."
The man was not only insulting his subordinates. He was openly provoking Phield himself.
"Heh. Slowly looting spoils is what makes it enjoyable."
Phield forcibly suppressed the rage boiling inside him as his hands gripped the reins tightly.
"But I doubt you’ll ever get the chance to witness that scene."
"What do you an by that?"
"Silence. All of you, shut up."
Phield suddenly turned around and shouted at the soldiers, who looked ready to explode on the spot.
"Since Baron Busby has already given his explanation, we’re leaving."
"But..."
Newte still wanted to speak, but years of obedience forced him to straighten his posture and shout:
"Form ranks!"
"Heh, now that’s more appropriate."
Baron Busby nodded smugly while inwardly cursing like mad.
Get the hell out of my territory already and stop wandering around here.
The reason he had accompanied Phield the entire ti today was not hospitality at all. He had been terrified that Phield might uncover his secrets. When Phield’s soldiers caused trouble earlier, it had nearly scared him into a heart attack.
Looking at the soldiers whose expressions were so wronged they nearly wanted to cry, Phield spoke aningfully.
"Trust your lord."
He had no intention of letting this matter end here.
But he could not act imdiately yet. He needed complete preparation first. Otherwise, if even one witness escaped and had their mories searched as evidence, the Empire would no longer leave him any place to stand.
The troops ford orderly ranks and prepared to leave the city.
Out of the corner of his eye, Phield suddenly noticed a staggering figure pushing through the gathered crowd and running toward him.
"Help! My lord!"
Phield pulled on the reins and turned around, looking curiously at the bruised and battered Taz.
"Who are you?"
"Fuck!"
Baron Busby cursed viciously under his breath.
"Why does everything keep going wrong today? I’m definitely hanging two useless idiots for negligence later."
"I-I’m Taz! We t earlier at the city gate!"
Taz no longer cared about noble etiquette. Thinking about how his companion was about to be violated, he shouted anxiously.
"They’re prisoners from our territory."
Baron Busby drew his sword imdiately, looking ready to kill.
At that mont, a brilliant idea suddenly appeared inside Phield’s mind.
"I think you’ve rembered incorrectly, dear Sir Busby."
This ti, it was Phield’s turn to speak leisurely.
"There were three of them. They’re guides hired by my army. Surely you aren’t trying to say that the mont my guides entered your territory, they were killed by your people?"
"What is Wind Tour Territory supposed to be then? Hell itself? Enter and die imdiately?"
"You..."
Busby finally lost his composure and lowered his voice threateningly.
"Phield, don’t interfere in this matter."
"And yet at a ti like this, you’re still threatening ."
Phield’s expression darkened completely as he shouted each word coldly and clearly.
"Release them!"
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