Warlord of Chaos Chapter 107: Who's The Real Fool?

Legends are interesting, because the bards knew the preferences and habitual instincts of the audience and would adopt unique tips such as shortening the time span of years into days. Doing so even though the stories themselves were based on real history resulted in stories that had no life.

For example, when the Abyssal Race was still rampant on the continent, the living space of all the species on the ground was greatly narrowed. The enormous underground city under Holy Crown City was one of their masterpieces, and the evil creatures such as vampires and black ravens were what was left of them.

Just when the sentient races on the ground were pressed out of breath, the God of War, Abraham, a supremely powerful twelfth-grade professional, appeared out of nowhere and shook the continent. He played an irreplaceable role in several critical battles that determined the survival of the sentient races, and drove the Abyssal Race back underground.

In the legendary stories, the heroic deeds of Abraham had been deified. In the stories, one day he would demonstrate his brilliance by shattering the Abyssal Race's invasion, and by the next day he would have already launched an all-out counterattack, making it seem as if all the miracles had happened in merely several days. However, the truth was that the war between Abraham and the Abyssal Race had lasted for a total of seventeen years!

If Reg was eligible to become the main character of his own legendary story, his deed of killing Thomas, the mayor of Tenth Town, would also be described as a magnificent feat or a brilliant starting point by the bards. Reg himself would then be portrayed as a young man possessed with power not inferior to the four castellans. By the next chapter, Han Jin's team would probably have become the true rulers of Betiman.

However, the facts were not so desirable. Both open strifes and veiled struggles needed time to serve as stepping stones. After the event, Ronning had sent many different letters to the leaders and generals of the Riptide Regiment. For those under the direct command of Regimental Commander Conrad, he had expressed Reg's grief and determination. For those who had once been appreciated and promoted by Conrad, he emphasized how the remains of Knight Conrad were humiliated by Rudolph, while also extending an invitation to them regarding the new funeral that would be held. As for those who were neutral and could be either friend or foe, Ronning spent a large part denouncing the shameless behaviors of Rudolph and strongly criticized the maladministration of the four castellans who were constantly plotting against each other.

Ronning didn't waste any energy on those who were bound to be their enemies. This was not a game played amongst children. Political conflicts could not be simply distinguished between good and evil, just like how Knight Conrad's enemies wouldn't care about what kind of a person he was on the battlefield; they would simply do what their duties commanded.

Ronning's letters would take at least seven or eight days to reach the generals, and it would take the generals a few days to consider before they made their reply, which meant that the first step of Reg's plan to wrestle for political power would take at least a month of preparation.

Han Jin and his team lived contently during this time. In Moxinke's words, they now had someone powerful backing them up! Reg was respectfully addressed as 'Young Marshal', and was the uncrowned king of Ninth Town. Moxinke often walked out with Reg shoulder to shoulder as good friends. At least in Ninth Town, there was no one that he needed to fear!

Thus, Moxinke thought that he had the right to indulge himself. He ate the best food, drank the best wine, and flirted with the most beautiful barmaids. Unfortunately, Sylner seemed to have an almost magic instinct. No matter how much Moxinke drank, she would never appear, but as soon as he indulged himself in flirting with the barmaids, she would be there, standing behind him and giving him an icy stare. Such a miraculous instinct distressed Moxinke very much.

When it came to a situation like this, women had their reasons, and men had theirs. It's no use to argue about it.

Gradually, Moxinke finally learned from his lessons. He would still drink, but would never flirt with the barmaids.

This day, Han Jin and Moxinke again went together into a bar in town. Han Jin only wanted to have a breath of fresh air and relax. Thus, he went back after a short rest, while Moxinke stayed in the bar, having not enjoyed himself to the fullest yet.

There were very few mercenaries in Ninth Town. Most of the guests in the bar were officers, of all levels, from Riptide Regiment. Besides, there weren't many local residents, and competition among the bars was intensified due to the lack of guests. Thus they racked their wits to attract guests by offering all kinds of services.

Now, several barmaids were standing on the tables, twisting their waists, and lifting up their skirts from time to time to seduce the officers below them. This did successfully attract a burst of yelling and laughter from them.

Though Riptide Regiment had strict military disciplines, such kinds of consensual deals was not prohibited. The fundamental human desire must be vented, otherwise it would cause even greater harm. Those who forced others to eliminate their desires in the name of justice and righteousness were always the most despicable ones. They only demanded others to abide by their virtues, while they themselves rarely did.

Moxinke gulped down his last drink and put ten-odd silver coins on the table. He still needed to practice his sword the next day and had to go back to rest now.

Just then, an ordinarily-looking, commonly-dressed, middle-aged man appeared in front of Moxinke and showed a flattering smile. "Excuse me, are you Lord Moxinke?"

"I am. May I help you?" Moxinke looked the stranger up and down.

"May I sit down?"

"Yes, go ahead." Moxinke waved his hand.

The middle-aged man sat down. "I heard that you are a straightforward man, so... I will not bother with small talk."

"Of course." Moxinke said with a smile.

"I have a batch of goods which need to be delivered to Twelfth Town, but I haven't found the right mercenary yet." The middle-aged man paused. "Could you do me a favor? Rest assured that compensation is no problem. Simply name a price, and if we can afford it, we will pay it."

"I just need to name my price? How audacious of you." Moxinke grinned.

"Of course. I trust the Lord to not make life difficult for a commoner like me," the middle-aged man said with a smile.

"Before we talk about business, don't you think you should introduce yourself first?" Moxinke said in a low voice.

"My name is Justin, the person in charge of the Betiman branch of Morgan Commercial Corp."

"Mor... Morgan Commercial Corp?" Moxinke almost bit his own tongue in surprise.

"Yes. What's wrong with that?" Justin asked confusedly.

"Nothing." Moxinke snapped his fingers, indicating for the barmaids to bring him some more ale. He quietly stared at Justin as he drank.

Justin patiently waited there, also looking at Moxinke.

"To deliver your goods from here to Twelfth Town, you say?"

"Yes."

Moxinke pondered for a while. "It's more than fifty kilometers. Two hundred gold coins. No bargaining."

Justin paused for a while and forced a smile. "My Lord, I just want to insure safe travel. There are, in fact, very few robbers along the way. The price you offered is a bit high, don't you think?"

"Do you think I care about this small amount of money?" Moxinke pointed his thumb toward himself. "I'm simply bored and want to have a walk outside. If I really were short of money, I could ask for as much as I wanted from Reg."

"I know, I know." Justin looked a bit awkward. He really wanted to accept the deal on the spot, if it were not for the high price. Though Moxinke looked silly and easy to fool, he would still be suspicious of this when he sobered up.

"If you agree, we can sign a contract now. Otherwise, please find another seat and don't disturb me from watching the show!" Moxinke said carelessly.

"My Lord, in fact... you don't have to escort the goods to Twelfth Town. All you need to do is to escort them to Merlin New Village."

"Merlin New Village? It's only thirty kilometers from Ninth Town, right?"

"Yes, yes."

"If so, I did ask to much." Moxinke paused. "One hundred gold coins!"

Justin opened his mouth but swallowed his words. He smiled bitterly. "Deal. But I have to make it clear that this money is for you only. No matter how many people you take with you, I will only pay you one hundred gold coins!"

"Such a trivial thing. Do you think I need help? Besides, one hundred gold coins is nowhere near enough for me to split. Just myself would do."

"Good, good." Justin took out a cloth bag from his arms, looked around, and carefully counted out fifty golden coins. "This is the down payment for you. I will pay the remaining to you after the task is done."

"We can sign a contract now," Moxinke said while searching for something from his robe.

"No need. No need..." Justin said with an ingratiating smile.

"No contract?" Moxinke exclaimed. "Don't you at least need a receipt?"

"Haha, I trust you. A great man like you would not care about this small amount of money! Besides, we still have many opportunities to cooperate with each other in the future." Justin laughed.

"All... right."

"Then it's a deal." Justin stood up. "My goods will leave tomorrow morning. Where... shall we meet?"

"So quickly? Which city gate are you going to pass through?"

"Of course, the south gate."

"Okay, I will meet you at the south gate tomorrow morning," Moxinke said while yawning.

"Well, see you then." Justin nodded and said some more polite formulas before leaving.

Moxinke put the golden coins into his pocket and held up a cup of ale. He covered the rear of the cup with one hand and looked at his own image reflected on the cup, muttering in an extremely low voice, "The great Moxinke, do you really look so stupid?"

Chapter end