Finally, before nightfall, the master of the caravan announced that they were going to set up camp and rest under Dean's signal.
Under the setting sun, Thales tried his best to help the mercenaries with things that he could, such as setting up tents and trying to make himself look less burdensome, even though he was clumsy because he had never done such things before. The only consolation was that Quick Rope, who had just joined the profession, was not much better than him.
After half an hour of not knowing what to do and making mistakes, Thales and Quick Rope, a layman and a newbie, finally set up three crooked tents for the mercenaries before the people on shift came back.
The mercenaries' tents were set up at the back of the slope.
Thales could tell that there was quite a gap between these warriors who worked for money and the people they wanted to protect.
While the merchants dismantled their goods, they subconsciously glanced at the mercenaries' weapons, as if they were afraid that they would pounce on them at any moment. They even set up camp far away from the mercenaries, which made the latter's tents stand out. But the fear of danger made these protected merchants not dare to be too far away from the warriors, so a funny thing happened. The mercenaries' tents were set up in one spot, while the other tents of the caravan surrounded the mercenaries. They maintained a certain distance and spread out in a fan shape, while the camels surrounded them again. If someone looked at these tents from the sand dune, they would definitely think that they looked like shells.
Thales, who was drenched in sweat from exhaustion, and Quick Rope, who was still in high spirits, were the first to sit down by the tent. They watched as Mickey, Hubert, and Dean started a fire in front of them, then sat down in the camp one after another.
"The nearest supply point should not be far away. The weather has been good for the past few months, and the water source has not been moved much. 'Breeze' is searching, we should be able to find it soon." The leader of the mercenaries, Louisa Dante, who had rushed back from the front of the group, sat down comfortably in the camp and untied her weapon.
Dean nodded.
"Tell everyone to be alert and sleep early tonight." Dean touched his smooth head and frowned as he thought about something. "I want to leave early tomorrow, just in case."
Louisa raised her eyebrows. "No problem."
She turned to the other mercenaries. "Did you hear that?"
Hubert and Mickey nodded, but did not speak.
"Of course, understood," Quick Rope responded quickly, beaming with joy. "Does Madam Dean have any other orders?"
The only reply he got was a kick of sand from the cold-faced Louisa.
"Awooo, Captain! I'm talking about Dean's' Madam '. That's the new nickname I gave him, not you! "
Quick Rope held his head pitifully.
Until a furious Louisa gave him a second kick of sand.
Thales watched the conversation between Louisa and Dean with a puzzled expression. Judging from the current situation, Dean's position in the group was quite high. Even Louisa listened to his suggestions seriously and carefully, almost to the point where she would listen to everything he said.
'Is it really as Quick Rope said? Louisa likes Dean, so …'
"But I'm still worried, Dean." Old Hammer frowned. He led his horse into the camp and settled it down. "That small camp today …"
Dean sighed. "I know. I told Tormorden that I'll talk to him again."
Old Hammer frowned. "But you know what kind of person Tormorden is. How are we supposed to negotiate with him?"
Dean shook his head. "Think of something."
Thales pretended to be absent-minded as he massaged his aching legs and feet while he listened to their conversation attentively.
At this moment …
"So …"
An oily voice traveled into their ears.
The mercenaries and Thales turned their heads around.
"What do you want to negotiate with me about?"
A man with glossy hair and gorgeous embroidered clothes approached them with a big belly. His eyes sparkled on his cheeks, making him look like a piglet.
His footsteps were a little pretentious, as if he was deliberately walking on a stage.
"Sep, Sep Tormorden," Dean sighed, and said to the greasy, stiff man, "We were just talking about you, our generous employer."
"What brings you to our camp?"
"Oh, my hardworking warriors." The master of the merchant group, Seth Tormorden, raised a pot in his right hand high with a hint of arrogance. He said with a firm accent, "Of course it's a reward.
A good knight will never let his steed go hungry, and a good general will never let his soldiers go hungry. "
Thales frowned. 'If I'm not wrong, Tormorden sounded like someone from Eternal Star City.'
The mercenaries looked at each other.
No one paid attention to the master of the merchant group.
Tormorden's smile was a little stiff. His raised arm was a little sore, and he could only put down the pot gently. He coughed and reminded everyone, "This is Sera Dukedom's wine. A small token of appreciation for your hard work over the past few days."
The mercenaries looked at Dean in unison.
"We're still working, Seth. We can't drink," the bald mercenary said politely and coldly.
Tormorden's expression froze for a moment.
"Very good, Dean. I'll tell my connections in Blade Fangs Camp about your professionalism. You know, I'm very familiar with all the major merchant groups, and I'll tell them that when the people in Blade Fangs Dune Camp want mercenaries, they should look for you. I'll also tell Baron Williams about your diligence."
The master of the merchant group maintained his faint smile and looked at Thales. "Oh, child, I'm glad to see that you've recovered. What's your name again?"
Thales, who was suddenly called, was slightly stunned.
He smiled unnaturally. "Erm, thank you, Master … Tormorden. I'm … I'm Wya."
Tormorden sighed. "Ah, Wya, what a good name. You know, a few days ago, I hesitated for a long time about whether I should save you … You know, child, I'm not a cold-hearted bad person, but I have to take care of this small merchant group that concerns more than ten families. Any decision I make might affect the livelihood and future of a certain family … Should I save a person who is unrelated to me, or should I put my other loyal friends in danger? This is a difficult decision. "
Tormorden closed his eyes and shook his head a little. "Haih, my great-grandfather was also a noble. You might not know this, but he worked under the King of Constellation. Mindis the Third always reminded my great-grandfather that as nobles, not only do we have to shoulder responsibilities, but we also have to be kind.
"This sentence became our family motto, and it was passed down from my great-grandfather to my grandfather. My grandfather always reminded my father, and my father always reminded me.
"So, in the end, I still decided to keep you in my group, child."
Tormorden looked at him with a serious expression. "You have to thank King Mindis the Third, child. Because of his teachings, I made this difficult decision, and you, who were in a difficult situation, obtained a new life."
As he stared at the indifferent Tormorden, Thales' face twitched. He nodded as if he understood. "Ha, ha, yes."
Behind him, Quick Rope made a vomiting gesture. "You speak as if they are very close."
Tormorden's ears twitched. "What?"
"Nothing, Master Tormorden!"
Quick Rope reacted quickly and smiled brightly. "As expected of the descendant of nobles, you're the best!"
Tormorden smiled and nodded in satisfaction.
Louisa could not help but giggle.
"So …" Dean sighed and interrupted the awkward conversation. "Seth, you don't need to bribe us with wine. Why don't you just say, 'What brings you here?'"
Tormorden furrowed his eyebrows a little, as if he was not satisfied with Dean calling him by his name.
The greasy merchant Tormorden clasped his hands together and raised his chin higher than his ears. "I'm thinking about what you said yesterday, Dean. What's going on? What do you mean by 'go back'? "
The mercenaries furrowed their eyebrows. They were surprised and bewildered.
Thales' curiosity was also piqued.
'Go back?
What's going on? '
"It's exactly what it means, Seth." Dean shrugged, as if he was not bothered by what Tormorden said. "You saw the camp in the morning and those corpses. We should give up on going to the Tower of Eradication to avoid potential danger, or at least take a detour."
Tormorden's lips twitched a little.
"Give up?"
He sucked in a deep breath.
"From what I know, Dean, and from what you've seen, it's just a small camp where a few desert bandits are hiding." Tormorden remained stern and arrogant, and he listened humbly. "Is there a need for that? This will seriously affect your reputation, and you also know that for us, some goods have a time limit — "
"You saw those camps, we all saw it," Dean interrupted him rudely. The bald mercenary glanced at his companions and furrowed his eyebrows. "The people inside, regardless of whether they are desert bandits or not, are all dead. They died not far away from us, and their bodies are covered in wounds caused by various weapons."
The mercenaries' expressions became terrible. Quick Rope even widened his eyes.
"This is not an isolated case. Along the way, from the Land of Fist Stone to Lizard Mouth, there have been no less than five places like this. There are not only desert bandits, but also small groups of unidentified people. I suspect that there are also merchant groups among them."
Dean turned to Thales. "And you've met Wya. According to him, there was no one on the road from the north. It was as if the desert bandits and exiles who had spread across the desert had all disappeared overnight." Thales nodded.
Thales thought of something.
'All … disappeared …'
Dean said faintly, "So … I sincerely suggest to you, no, I strongly suggest to you, Seth, that we stop moving forward."
Tormorden took a deep breath, as if he was trying to maintain the last of his poise.
In the next second, Tormorden raised his head abruptly and punched his own palm!
"I don't understand!
"Desert bandits, exiles … Isn't it better for these scum who bring disaster to the region and obstruct the trade route to die?!" Tormorden gritted his teeth.
"We have one less thing to worry about, and I have to congratulate all of you, Big Dean. Because of their deaths, your job has become much easier … Eliminating their threat, isn't that the reason why I hired you, the professional bodyguards? What do you think, honorable warriors …"
Tormorden turned to the others.
The mercenaries did not speak.
Dean heaved a long sigh. He looked as if he was exasperated that the mercenaries did not live up to his expectations.
"No, you don't understand what I mean, Seth." The bald mercenary gritted his teeth and said, "The desert bandits' corpses in the camp were all found not far away from the camp. This means that they were killed when they were fleeing the camp in a hurry. They ran into an enemy they could not defeat, so they did not even think about fighting back. Once they discovered the enemy, they could only run for their lives.
"But they did not run away," Dean said solemnly.
Dean said solemnly, "More than twenty armed, experienced, and merciless desert bandits."
"None of them ran away."
Tormorden was slightly stunned.
Dean raised his eyebrows and said, "Listen to me, Seth. Turn back and find another way to ensure our safety."
Master Tormorden's expression remained the same, but he kept rubbing his hands on the fabric of his clothes, revealing his emotions.
"He didn't tell you about the matter of us returning directly, right?" He turned to the female warrior. "Captain Dante, what do you say?"
"We'll say whatever Dean says," Louisa answered firmly. "He represents the entire team."
Thales could not help but notice that the other people's expressions were the same, as if they were used to this scene.
Tormorden could no longer maintain the indifferent expression on his face. He rubbed his hair in agony.
It was only then that Thales noticed that Tormorden's hair was sparse. He was bald.
He gritted his teeth and said, "Dean, tell me, why should I take the risk of being banished from Blade Fangs Dune on this trip?"
Dean shrugged.
"You want profits."
"Yes, profits!"
Tormorden seemed to have found a way to vent. He raised his index finger and said fiercely, "Damn profits!
"So many eloquent and calculative merchants have been buried in the desert, but we still come one after another, because this is the only thing that supports us to take the risk to step into the desert: profits, profits!"
He widened his eyes, as if he wanted to seek a consensus from everyone in his field of vision. "First, Eckstedt and the Alliance of Freedom are going to war. Second, Constellatiates want to seal off the desert. Do you know what this means? It means that the entire supply line has been cut off because the Northlanders are going to war or the Constellatiates are going to go crazy. The road from the Golden Passage to Eckstedt will be sealed off, and the passage from the desert to Constellation will also be blocked! "
Tormorden seemed exasperated. "Do you know, soon, a bag of two hundred ounces of marijuana produced in the Long Corridor Archipelago will be sold for five Tormonds in Constellation, and twenty Raikarus in Northland! Even after deducting the consumption of inferior currency and foreign exchange, we can still earn nearly seventy to eighty King Shawlon! A bottle of fine wine from Sera Hill is priced at forty-five Kailor in the Southland Market. If we walk some distance, we can sell it at the Tower of Eradication for a high price of eighty Shawlon silver coins. A fine velvet from Sword Lake is sold for twenty Tabiso in Alumbia, and in the north of the desert, we can sell it for dozens of Raikarus! A barrel of Eternal Oil, an Everlasting Lamp … All the goods you can imagine, as long as you come to the right place, you can earn a profit. What's the logic behind this? The supply and demand of the market! I dare to bet on the reputation of the Tormorden Family for generations that in the next month, the price of the goods in the south will increase in the north, and the goods in the east will be sold out in the west. Where else can you find such a good opportunity?!
"And now that we've come this far, you're suggesting that we turn around, return to Blade Fangs Dune, and obediently let the Constellatiates confiscate our goods?"
The mercenaries looked at each other.
Dean shook his head, unmoved. "If necessary, losing our goods is better than losing our heads."
Like a deflated balloon, Tormorden slumped down.
"As you said, Master Tormorden," Dean added, "This is a difficult decision."
Tormorden looked like a defeated rooster. His face drooped.
"Can someone tell me what's going on up ahead?
"Is it so serious that I have to give up the benefits of the entire merchant group?"
Dean shook his head. "I don't know.
If I have to say, there's someone in Seth. "
"Someone?"
Dean nodded. His gaze was extremely solemn. "'Someone'. Someone is in the desert where we are. They are hunting down all living things in a large area, in a large scale, and in an efficient manner.
"Even the sandstorm couldn't stop the massacre."
It's not far ahead of us. "
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