Everyone sat around the bonfire, the firelight dancing on Hake's rough face, reflecting the relief of surviving a disaster.
"I almost thought I was dead," Lucien's voice was still hoarse from gasping, only exhaustion remaining after the thrilling excitement.
"So, the ones who truly rejected Lord Arthur's grace are those bastards called the High Mountain Brotherhood?"
Hake nodded vigorously, spitting a mouthful of saliva. "It's them! That bunch of Mad Dog! A group of desperate mercenaries and fugitives!"
"Originally, they were going to surrender too! I don't know why they changed their minds! They imprisoned those among them who wanted to surrender! And they intercepted anyone who wanted to surrender everywhere!"
A person next to Hake also chimed in, "They said they had the backing of a powerful figure, and that land was nothing. As long as they opposed Lord Arthur, they would gain even more!"
Hake looked at Lucien, his posture very low, speaking humbly, "Lord! The misunderstanding has been cleared! Please lead us down the mountain now!"
"We are willing to pledge our loyalty to Lord Arthur!"
The bandits following him stirred in agreement, the desire to go home overriding everything. They were originally farmers, only becoming bandits to survive.
Lucien looked at them, but did not nod immediately. In his eyes, which always seemed simple and honest, a strange, thoughtful light now flickered. Even he himself felt surprised that he was actually thinking.
Lucien slowly stood up and walked, his gaze sweeping over the three soldiers watching him, as well as Hake and his ragged bandits. He stopped, a strange arc forming on his lips:
"Going down the mountain, just like this, at most you'll be a group of bandits who were spared. Lord Arthur is merciful; he will give you land and let you live."
Hake was stunned and hastily spoke, "Lord, this... this is already a tremendous grace for us."
Lucien's voice lowered, husky and calm, yet possessing a captivating ability: "Do you want to achieve a truly great deed? To make Lord Arthur look highly upon you, to be granted the best public land, and even... to own your own private land, becoming important people to him?"
The air seemed to solidify. Private land! These two words were like a red-hot iron, branding the hearts of every bandit. They were rootless drifters; public land meant farming for the lord, with most of the harvest taken away, spending their entire lives toiling for others. They had never imagined owning land truly their own.
Hake's breathing grew heavy, as did his brothers'. Their eyes flickered with greed and ambition: "Lord... are you suggesting?"
Lucien grinned, looking at everyone, showing his teeth: "Let's do something big with me!"
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the forest, casting dappled white light.
Eight figures moved swiftly along the rugged mountain path, led by Hake. Behind him closely followed Lucien and his three soldiers, as well as Hake's three brothers.
They quickly arrived at the High Mountain Brotherhood's lair, a camp built into a natural mountain hollow, much larger than Hake's camp and easy to defend but difficult to attack.
A bandit with a coarse face stopped them, his tone unfriendly: "Hake! You spineless coward, you actually dare to come back!"
Hake strode forward, punching the man in the chest, and laughed loudly: "I've thought it through! Rather than going down the mountain to farm the land! To be someone who kneels and bows! It's better to gamble with Mad Dog!"
Soon, they were led to a simple wooden house at the back of the camp.
The house reeked of alcohol. An exceptionally burly man sat on the ground. Lucien's eyes constantly and discreetly observed the other party. He had a fierce scar on his face, extending from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were like a hungry wolf. This was undoubtedly Mad Dog, the leader of the High Mountain Brotherhood.
Mad Dog scrutinized Hake, his eyes full of assessment: "You said you've thought it through?"
Hake straightened his body: "I've thought it through! Arthur's mercy is fake! I saw his people dividing land down the mountain with my own eyes! They were all rocky lands! Rather than farming such land! It's better to take a chance with you!!!"
Mad Dog let out a low chuckle, and clapped his hands: "Welcome, Hake! My friend! I will definitely not disappoint you!"
Lucien had been secretly observing, and he noticed that Mad Dog's gaze always inadvertently drifted towards a person in the corner of the room.
That person was dressed in clean, respectable fine linen clothes, completely out of place with the surrounding filth and coarseness. He sat quietly, holding a cup of ale, looking leisurely, as if he were not in a bandit's lair, but in a nobleman's living room.
When Mad Dog's eyes met that person's, they even held a hint of subtle flattery.
This discovery made Lucien's heart stir. A bandit leader and a well-dressed person—this was absolutely not normal. It seemed that this person was the reason for their sudden change of mind and unwillingness to surrender.
The feast soon began. Mad Dog loudly announced the addition of Hake and his seven men. They now had over thirty people, a strong force, no weaker than any other power in High Mountain. As long as they continued to harass Arthur's lands, they would gain even more. The atmosphere became lively.
Lucien sat to one side, picking up his wine cup and pretending to drink, but in reality, he was secretly observing. The High Mountain Brotherhood's refusal to surrender was probably not because they were stubborn, but because they had a bigger backer and more tempting promises behind them.
Late at night, everything was silent. The campfires were reduced to scattered sparks, and most of the bandits were sound asleep, numbed by alcohol.
Lucien, his three soldiers, and Hake with a few of his trusted men gathered stealthily in the shadows of the camp.
Hake whispered, "That messenger is arranged in a separate tent to the east, guarded by two people."
Lucien touched the longsword at his waist, his voice cold: "We must act simultaneously. I'll take my men to deal with Mad Dog."
"Hake, you take your men to capture that messenger, alive!"
"Then you go and release the people they've detained! Let them pick up weapons! Create chaos!"
Hake warned, "Mad Dog is very strong; he's a deserter."
Lucien's voice remained unchanged. He looked at the three soldiers beside him and grinned: "We are veterans!"
The three soldiers grinned simultaneously, exchanging smiles.
The operation began. Four shadowy figures moved through the darkness, silently approaching Mad Dog's wooden house.
The two bandits outside the wooden house were dozing against the wall. Lucien made a gesture, and two personal guards outflanked them from the left and right.
Two faint thuds, the sound of blades cutting through flesh, rang out. The two bandits didn't even have time to grunt. Their throats were slit, their mouths covered, and they were helped to softly fall to the ground.
Lucien carefully opened the door. A strong smell of alcohol and sweat assailed them. However, what they didn't expect was that such a slight sound would instantly awaken Mad Dog.
Mad Dog had been extremely cautious during his life as a hunted deserter; the slightest disturbance could wake him, and his weapon was never far from him.
"What are you doing!!!" He roared like an enraged beast, like a true Mad Dog, throwing a chair at Lucien and drawing his longsword.
The wooden chair came whistling through the air. Lucien dodged sideways, and the chair smashed to pieces on the ground. At the same time, Lucien's three soldiers had already pounced from three directions.
It was a raw and bloody struggle, without rules. One soldier's arm was struck by Mad Dog's backhanded swing, half-stuck in the bone of his arm, but the soldier endured the sharp pain and brought his longsword down on Mad Dog's thigh.
Mad Dog roared in pain, turned and kicked the soldier flying. In that instant of opening, Lucien pressed forward and slashed his upper shoulder with a sword.
Blood splattered throughout the room from the five people. Mad Dog was indeed far stronger than the four of them in combat and physique, but his weak, unwilling-to-fight-to-the-death character was so fatal at this moment.
"Someone!" Mad Dog kept roaring furiously, constantly disturbing his own mind, "Hurry, someone!"
"Hurry, someone!!!"
But no one came. Almost at the same time, shouts of battle erupted on the east side of the camp. Hake and his men successfully rushed into the messenger's tent and captured him, while the released bandits took up weapons, setting fires everywhere in the camp and shouting: "Mad Dog is dead! Surrender or die!"
"Damn it!!!!" Mad Dog was terrified, looking at the four blood-stained figures. Were they the Mad Dogs, or was he?
Giving up the fight, he turned to flee. The heavily wounded Lucien and the three soldiers pounced. Mad Dog finally fell.
The hungover High Mountain Brotherhood bandits were awakened by numerous chaotic noises. They stumbled to their feet, only to see a scene that struck terror into their hearts.
On a wooden pole, a bloody head was impaled high. It was their leader—Mad Dog. His dead eyes stared blankly at the sky.
Lucien and Hake stood side by side beneath the head-pole. Lucien's body was covered in blood, with wounds all over.
"Mad Dog is dead!!!!" Hake roared with all his might, "Lord Arthur's army has surrounded the valley!!! Lay down your weapons!! Kneel and surrender!! It's your only way to live!!!"
At the edge of the forest, Hake's men shouted with all their might, banging pots and pans, as if a thousand armies were gathering.
Having lost their leader and facing an overwhelming army, the psychological defenses of this disorganized mob completely collapsed.
Someone, it's unclear who, was the first to drop their weapon. Then, the sound of weapons hitting the ground echoed one after another. They knelt down, bowing their heads, not daring to look at the grim head on the pole anymore.
On the mountain path, Arthur was galloping with over a dozen riders. Fortunately, this path was not steep, at least there was a path, otherwise they would have to walk.
Just as they finally reached Hake's original camp, Arthur's eyes widened.
Lucien and Hake, leading over thirty people, slowly emerged from the depths of the valley. Lucien even had a human head tied to his waist.
"Lord Arthur!!" Lucien, seeing Arthur arrive, ran excitedly, constantly shouting "Lord," until he reached Arthur's horse. A simple yet triumphant smile spread across his blood-stained and dusty face.
His scarred and bleeding body knelt on one knee, holding the head high to offer to Arthur, his voice like a booming bell.
"Lord Arthur!!! Lucien did not disgrace you!!!"
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