Chapter 117: Unease Among the People

Old John lifted his oak cup and gulped down a mouthful. The inferior mare’s milk wine was sharp and astringent, causing him to cough violently. Wiping his mouth carelessly, he forced a dry chuckle. “A hundred thousand ant men attacking the city! I never thought we’d face such a grand spectacle.”

“Looking for trouble where there’s none,” Barrett said coolly, glancing at Old John.

Old John smiled awkwardly. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

No one paid him any mind; they all drank silently. The atmosphere of war weighed heavily on most, but not on these battle-hardened veterans. Compared to ordinary farmers, mercenaries did not believe the ant men could capture Blackfort. The town’s thirty-meter-high walls were sturdy and thick, more than seventy thousand of its hundred thousand inhabitants had militia training, supplies were abundant, and there were farms and water sources nearby. As long as they didn’t venture out for guerrilla skirmishes, Blackfort was impregnable.

What truly unsettled the veterans was the absence of Captain Nelson, Lady Lilia, and Lord Victor. Victor’s people had fractured into three groups: the War Bear mercenaries and a small escort, Dean leading the Brick Kiln village folk, and the rest surrounding Chief Morin.

“Morale’s broken! The troops are hard to lead!” One-eyed Gru lamented.

Old John shot him a sidelong glance. “What’s that mean, Gru? Planning to step up and take charge?”

“I don’t have that ability! I just can’t stand those traitors! If it weren’t for us risking our lives to cover the retreat, would they be sitting here so comfortably?” Gru said bitterly.

The others were also disheartened. They hadn’t expected that just days after fleeing to Blackfort, these people would start playing their own games—especially Dean’s Brick Kiln villagers, who were receiving special treatment from the York family. Even a blind man could see the Yorks intended to absorb them.

“That’s not surprising; the lord’s foundation is still too shallow. Especially with him and Lilia absent, and that Nelson boy who nobody knows where he’s gone. But in a way, that's good—once the insect plague passes, those untrustworthy folk will be clearly exposed,” Barrett said calmly.

Unlike the villagers, the War Bear mercenaries were more loyal to Victor—not only because Lilia was his personal attendant, but because Victor’s insistence on covering the retreat had earned their respect and trust. For soldiers, the most important thing was to have comrades they could trust with their backs. Moreover, Victor, as lord, hadn’t treated them like cannon fodder, which moved the War Bears deeply.

Gru muttered, “I wonder how the captain is... could it be...”

“Nonsense! That bastard Nelson is probably hiding somewhere, carefree as ever. This isn’t the first time! Besides, if even a useless guy like you made it out, what could possibly have happened to Nelson?” Linda said fiercely, her eyes wide but betraying undeniable worry. Victor had already sent a message to Lilia through the Black Feather, and he was still wandering in the territory. Lilia had been escorted to Rose Manor by Nicole. Now, only Nelson’s whereabouts remained unknown. Though he had left the team before during missions to lure enemies away, no one really worried then.

Barrett pondered for a moment. “We only managed to escape thanks to the Dust Falcons guiding us. Nelson had two Dust Falcons with him. With his skills, he certainly wouldn’t come to harm.”

During the ant disaster, the War Bears miraculously retreated, losing only two members at the beacon tower. Their successful escape owed partly to their rich combat experience but mainly to the two Dust Falcons that led the way. The militia and ordinary guards who retreated first weren’t so lucky—they lost nearly half their men. Oddly enough, most women and children who lacked the ability to defend themselves survived.

Linda forced a smile. Now that was all they could do—wait. The York family had sealed Blackfort. Without their permission, no one could leave.

A frail little girl squeezed past Gru, eyes fixed intently on a plate of black beans.

Gru shouted, “Hey, little girl, what are you doing here? This isn’t a place for you. Go play somewhere else!”

“One-eyed Dragon, what are you yelling at her for?” Linda’s maternal instinct flared as she gently pulled the girl aside. “Are you hungry? Help yourself to these beans.”

The girl nodded, scooping a handful of black beans into her pocket. She even rubbed her small face against Linda’s cheek before hopping away.

Seeing the complexity in Linda’s expression, Old John sighed. “There are plenty of orphans like this now. Better let the church take her in.”

Linda glanced at Old John deeply, then at Barrett, and discreetly made a hand signal. The surrounding mercenaries immediately understood and nonchalantly resumed drinking and chatting.

After a while, Old John clapped Barrett’s shoulder and shouted, “Old Ghost, I need to take a leak. Give me a hand, will ya?”

“Go by yourself!”

“You bastard, I’ve got one leg.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink. Fine, I’ll walk with you.”

The two old mercenaries staggered off to a quiet corner. There, they saw a graying old farmer.

“I think I’ve seen you before. You’re from the fourth group of villagers,” Barrett squinted and said.

The farmer nodded. “My name’s Denver, Lord Barrett. I also have another name—Barol.”

“Barol! You—you were supposed to be dead!” Old John eyed him warily. He had seen Barol’s corpse before, and this man didn’t resemble him.

“I’m not dead! What you saw was my double. Now I serve under Lord Victor,” Barol grinned. He was looking for Barrett and had called Old John over to prove his identity since Old John knew him before.

Barrett glanced at Old John, who quietly explained Barol’s story.

“Who exactly are you? Why did that brat send for us?” Barrett asked coldly.

“I’m now a spy under Lord Victor. Only Victor, Lady Lilia, and Captain Nelson know my identity,” Barol said calmly. “We who managed to withdraw from Victor’s territory were all gathered together. None of us were conscripted into the militia. We’ve been living well, eating and drinking every day. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

Barrett and Old John exchanged looks. “What do you mean?”

“The area assigned to us is closed to outsiders. Most people around here work for the York family. We’re all under surveillance! And Lady Lilia is under house arrest!”

The old mercenaries stared at each other in shock. Barol’s words made them realize the area they were confined to was bordered by the city walls behind, the security office to the left, the barracks to the right, and a road in front. The sheriff had warned them: during wartime, wandering about was forbidden, punishable by military law. Such rules were reasonable given Blackfort’s overcrowding, but now it seemed the Yorks were intentionally isolating them.

“Why would the York family do this? Is Lilia in danger?” Barrett asked gravely.

“I don’t know!” Barol shook his head. “I don’t care. All I want is to inform Lord Victor of the situation here. I need your help!”

“Why should we trust you? How can we help?” Old John’s cold gaze roamed Barol like a ravenous wolf.

“You don’t have to trust me. The intelligence I bring must be passed to you. You decide whether to deliver it to Lord Victor,” Barol said. “As for how, I know you have the Dust Falcons trained by Lord Victor...”

“The Dust Falcons can fly back to the hill camp, but Lord Victor isn’t there. Your plan won’t work!” Barrett cut him off.

Sending Dust Falcons back to the hill camp was something Barrett could do. In fact, most War Bear mercenaries knew that command. They could even have the Falcons lead them to avoid the ants. But having the Falcons fly hundreds of kilometers to find Victor? Barrett hadn’t even considered it.

Barol hesitated, then said to Barrett, “I noticed that when Lady Lilia went to Rose Manor, Kane obeyed your orders. You could try contacting him.”

“You know a lot, don’t you?” Barrett frowned. Even he only had partial understanding of Kane’s identity. He hadn’t expected this self-proclaimed spy under Lord Victor to know more secrets than he did, which irked him somewhat.

Barol chuckled. He was among the first to know Victor’s men had death warriors and could tell the Falcons were trained. If even these death warriors couldn’t send out messages, then there was nothing more he could do. But no matter what, they had to try. Barol believed that since the Falcons could send messages to Lilia, they surely could to Lord Victor too—people just didn’t know how to control them.

“We don’t need to worry about Lord Victor. We only have to do what’s necessary. When Lady Lilia returns, you can verify my identity with her—if she’s willing to tell you,” Barol said, then relayed the intelligence he had gathered to the two old mercenaries.

“That’s it? You’re not messing with us, are you?!” Old John eyed Barol skeptically. The intelligence this so-called spy brought was all common knowledge. Shouldn’t a spy’s information be secret?

Barol rolled his eyes at the amateur. A spy’s job was to deliver accurate but ordinary information. Anything Lord Victor didn’t know was valuable intelligence.

“Don’t reveal my identity. Trust me—I’m very useful to the lord! Also, tell everyone to behave. As long as Lord Victor is here, Lady Lilia will be safe.”

Watching Barol’s figure disappear behind the tent, Old John asked Barrett, “What now? Should we trust him?”

“The intelligence is solid. Barol deserves one chance. He’s already put his life in our hands,” Barrett said solemnly.

Old John nodded in agreement. Even delivering a message so cautiously indicated that if Barol’s identity were exposed, the York family would surely eliminate him. Since Barol was willing to risk so much, he deserved their trust—at least this once.