Lucian turned to Lord As, who had been watching him silently,, "What's wrong?"
Lord Ashtor shook his head, lost in thoughts.
He was probably thinking about how Lucian made it sound like the merchant guild had been causing him a great deal of trouble, but it was the other way around.
Lucian was the one who had been causing trouble for his rivals, not the other way around.
The merchant guild hadn't done much to him, besides halthing his sea trade, poaching a few of his employees here and there, trying to obscure his southern trade influence, but nothing to the scale of what Lucian had done.
Lucian had destroyed their caravans, ruined their reputation, robbed their supply lines, took over their warehouses, sabotaged their south business, and now he had the audacity to claim that he was the victim of the merchant guild's hostility.
There were only two outcomes for Glory after this. It would either die with its founder, or it would become even greater than it was now.
He hoped it was the latter.
Lucian was using the warehouse's ambushes as a fear and intimidation tool against his rivals, making them look weaker.
It would definitely catch unwanted attention from the bigger players. The nobility, specifically.
Lucian had received another pile of marriage proposals and requests for his presence. He was more useful alive than dead for most of them.
However, some were not pleased by Lucian's growing influence, the church and the merchant guild, but they were being held at bay. While they made one step, Lucian had made two, and he was not slowing down.
"Boss, can I kneel and kiss your boot?" Lord Ashtor suddenly asked.
Lucian walked away without a response, leaving his new Vice behind.
"Boss?"
"You're not worthy of kissing my boot," Lucian responded when Lord Ashtor continued to follow him around, "And you'll never be."
"..." Lord Ashtor was left in a state of disbelief, "Boss...I thought you were a gentleman of class and manners."
"Only to those who deserve it."
"..." Lord Ashtor wiped a fake tear away, raising his fist in the air, "I'll be worthy of kissing Boss' boot someday!" he declared with pride.
"..." The odd gazes from the enemy mercenaries were ignored by the new Vice.
Lord As had thick skin, shameless was his second name and his middle name was death seeker.
If someone got killed first, it would be Lord As. The bets had already started, and the odds were not in his favor.
──────────────────────────
The guards, who called for help, watched how they were being abandoned and left behind. Their days of slacking were coming to an end. Their new employers were not a fan of wasting human resources. "..."
"Well," Lord As turned to one of the hostages, "Would you be nice enough to show my men around? Trade routes, lists of supplies, and other information would be of great help."
A similar situation happened in three other warehouses, where the guards were tied together, and the workers and clerks were being questioned.
Leaf and Roland, Fishbone and Goblin, Cansan and Jax, they all split up to take care of their own part of the plan. Taking over a business they had experience in running allowed them to work in an organized manner.
They met up after a week, traveling towards the Gold Mines, and sharing their results over a campfire.
Their funds were being drained soon, so it was a race against time (like always).
Having a personal army now definitely made them feel invisible and on top of the world, until Lucian stomped their egos down with a single comment, "I want to retire already."
"Boss, you aren't even twenty! What retirement?!" Goblin couldn't help but laugh, "You have a long career ahead of you!"
Lucian, the man who made his Vices' lives hell with his demands, had the audacity to say he wanted to retire already. He was too ambitious. There was no way he would be satisfied with the status quo.
"My hair will be grey by the end of the month. I'm turning into an old bald man," Lucian complained, removing his hood as they sat around the fire.
The cool man his Vices came to respect was not acting cool at all, and they were starting to feel embarrassed for him.
"It's just dust. Your hair is not turning grey," Leaf corrected his boss.
"You don't have to worry about growing bald, Boss," Fishbone assured him, "Your hairline is still strong and intact."
"Are you sure?" Lucian asked, showing them his head.
They all looked at the spot and confirmed that it was fine. Their Boss had more hair than a lion's mane, yet he kept fussing about his looks. In fact, he had too much of them. They thought it was time for a haircut.
"You're just paranoid, Boss," Leaf said, handing him a spoon and a bowl of stew.
Lucian thanked Leaf before digging into his meal, "Do you know how many times the world almost ended because of some silly prophecy?"
"Someone had predicted the Spiritual Rot age before it happened," Cansan spoke up what he had learned in the royal academy before he dropped out.
Spiritual Rot Age was an age where the first shackleds started to appear, bringing the world into the brink of destruction.
It was an age where diamond knights were a normal occurrence and were not considered a rarity, like nowadays.
People were powerful enough to shake the earth and the heavens, and were able to make miracles happen.
It was an era of prosperity and wealth, and the people's lives were better than they could have ever imagined, until the Spiritual Rot spread through the world, killing the strongest, the most talented.
The world fell into chaos, triggering a Loom period, an era of total war.
The strongest of the strong perished, and with them, their bloodline and legacy.
The current people were the descendants of the weak, the commoners, and the civilians.
The strongest people from that age would look at the current strongest knights and laugh, calling them children who hadn't even seen the true power of their own kind.
People were still suffering from the aftermath of Spiritual Rot age. The hay heads.
"Boss must be a new generation of hay heads, then," Goblin as he listened to the old folk tale.
All people used to carry the same sickness in them, but over time the sickness became weaker and more tolerable for each hair color.
Other kingdom's hay heads have all died out, only the North's hay heads managed to survive, thanks to the church's medicine that managed to prolong their life.
They continued to discuss the topic while finishing their meal.
Roland's scouts soon interrupted their meeting, reporting back to Lucian with the information regarding the ferals, sharing how much longer without Lucian they would go before rebelling this time.