Knight Stine wiped the blood from his sword and sheathed it. He looked around to confirm there were no active enemies left in the clearing, then turned his gaze toward the pitch-black entrance of the lair.
The entrance was like a gaping maw, swallowing the midday sun within a few paces. There was neither light nor sound inside, as if the goblins they had just fought were the only defenders here.
But that was obviously impossible.
“Rest and recover on the spot. Count the casualties.”
Stine gave the order, his voice slightly hoarse after continuously commanding the battle. He then briefly wrote down the battle report on a piece of parchment and sent someone down the mountain to deliver it to the baron.
Roger walked over to the goblin spellsword's corpse and used 【Mana Siphon】 to absorb all the remaining mana that had not yet dissipated from its body.
This amount of mana was a drop in the bucket compared to what he had expended in the battle, but it was enough to replenish a small portion of the mana consumed by his earlier Chain Lightning.
He stood up, patted the dust off his hands, and went to treat the wounded as usual.
After treating all the seriously wounded, the experience bar for his Heal technique finally reached its maximum.
“Heal has been upgraded to Lv5.”
Roger stretched his shoulders, which had grown stiff from crouching for so long. After confirming that he had not missed any wounded who needed treatment, he finally turned and walked away.
Stine and Artley were talking not far away, clearly discussing their next course of action.
Roger did not try to eavesdrop. He found a spot far from the crowd and sat down against a watchtower, letting the shadow cast by the wooden stakes block out the blinding midday sun, before opening his system interface.
With his current balance at 4,800 points, he pulled out the goblin spellsword's rune sword and used appraisal.
【Name: Rune Magic Sword
Quality: Excellent
Description: A magic sword engraved with runes. The runes on the blade can conduct both Life Energy and mana. It originally belonged to an unknown human knight, but fell into the hands of the goblins after the knight was killed. It can be used for close combat or as a spellcasting medium.
Recycle Points: 1,200】
“This weapon is worth more than its user,” Roger muttered to himself after looking over the panel, recycling it to the system.
“Points +1,200, total balance 6,000.”
This was the wealthiest he had been since crossing over, but he was in no hurry to spend it.
His current skill set was comprehensive enough to handle the goblin defensive line, but no one knew what they would encounter further inside.
Rather than blowing most of his points now, it was better to wait until he actually needed something and make a targeted exchange.
For the rest of the day, they did not encounter any goblin attacks.
The entrance to the lair remained dark and quiet, as if whatever was inside was completely indifferent to their presence, or perhaps patiently waiting for them to walk right in.
...
In the camp down the mountain, inside Baron Raymond's tent.
The baron read through the battle report sent by Stine, then called for the attendant waiting outside his tent, instructing him to head to Count Nigel's main camp immediately to request an audience.
The attendant left quickly, and Raymond sat back down at his desk, beginning to organize the key points for his upcoming report.
About half an hour later, the attendant returned with a message, saying the count had summoned him.
Inside Count Nigel's main tent, several of his trusted advisors sat on either side of a long conference table.
Raymond bowed and presented the battle report to the count. The latter read it from beginning to end, his expression showing no obvious change. Once finished, he handed the report to his advisors to pass around.
As they passed the report around, the advisors whispered their thoughts to one another.
Once all the advisors had finished reading and placed the report back on the table, the count finally spoke:
“When I initially sent the commission letter to the Golden Falcon Group, I only valued their organizational capability. I wanted them to support us from the northern slope to take some pressure off our frontal assault. I didn't expect them to perform even better than I anticipated.”
The advisor sitting on the count's left took over the conversation:
“This mercenary group made quite a name for themselves in the north a few years ago. Judging by the description in the report, they are indeed far above the standard of ordinary mercenaries.”
“Since you have already commissioned them, my Lord, and the entrance to the lair is now open, we might as well continue with the current coordination model and include them in the next phase of the offensive plan.”
Another advisor raised a different view:
“They indeed took our money and completed their supporting mission; there is no issue with that. However, mercenaries are ultimately mercenaries. They are not bound by military law, nor do they have vassal obligations.”
“I believe that during coordination, their actions must be strictly restricted within the established plan. We cannot allow a mercenary group to act arbitrarily as they please.”
“If they find something valuable in the lair or do something beyond their authorized scope, we won't be able to control them, and they won't answer to us. If a dispute over the spoils arises after the battle, it will only make things difficult to resolve.”
Raymond waited for both advisors to finish before speaking in a calm, unhurried manner:
“My Lord, I hold no bias toward the Golden Falcon Group. However, from a tactical standpoint, the defense system at the main lair's entrance far exceeds our initial estimates.”
“Without the powerful breakthrough achieved by the Golden Falcon Group, relying solely on our forces for a frontal assault would have resulted in far higher casualties than we have now.”
His tone did not sound like he was refuting anyone; he was merely stating the actual facts he had received.
The baron paused briefly. After confirming that the count had no intention of interrupting him, he continued:
“I believe we should continue to have the Golden Falcon Group assist us in attacking the lair. However, before launching the final assault, I suggest sending a small team inside to scout, mapping out the layout of the internal tunnels and the defensive strength, before making further plans.”
“So your suggestion is to scout first, then attack,” Count Nigel summarized.
Raymond bowed slightly. “Yes, my Lord. While using human lives to pave the way is certainly a form of reconnaissance, the goblins' combat capability has exceeded our expectations. Most of our previous losses were incurred that way.”
Raymond did not directly mention the failed probing attacks from before, but his meaning was already perfectly clear.
“In comparison, sending in an elite team would yield higher reconnaissance efficiency and come at a much lower cost.”
The people present had various expressions. Some nodded slightly, while others averted their eyes from Raymond, clearly unwilling to take on this topic.
Count Nigel pondered for a moment before replying:
“Reconnaissance is fine, but we must have results within two days. After two days, regardless of the scouting outcome, the main force must launch the general offensive. We have already wasted too much time at the foot of this mountain. For every extra day we spend here, the pressure on our provisions and rear lines increases.”
“If we drag this out any longer, our own logistics will collapse before the goblins even need to lift a finger.”
Raymond nodded, committing the count's orders to heart. Without saying anything more, he bowed and took his leave.
Count Nigel watched him walk out of the tent with a meaningful gaze.
Upon returning to his tent, Raymond pulled out a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment, beginning to write a reply to Stine, briefly conveying the count's decision.
After finishing the letter, he tied the parchment with a thin hemp rope, dripped sealing wax onto it, pressed his signet ring into it, and handed it to the messenger waiting outside the tent.
The messenger took the letter, bowed, and quickly turned to head back up the mountain.
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