Chapter 71: I Call the Shots on Your Turf Too

The reason Rox was impressed by Jan was precisely because of his remark, “That bunch of idiots will only get themselves killed for nothing and attract monsters from the Underdark to cause trouble.” Although at first glance this statement might seem irrational, Rox understood all too well that Jan had hit the nail on the head.

Back when Rox and his group first began scouring the Underdark, they proceeded with extreme caution, taking every step with care to avoid unnecessary trouble. After all, it was their first time venturing into the Underdark, and they feared provoking anything best left alone. At that stage, they were relatively safe—aside from an attack on their outpost by some unknown group, the paladins didn’t suffer much harassment from the local monsters.

But the moment those mercenaries arrived, everything changed completely. Not only did they run around courting death, they also drew in droves of Underdark monsters. Based on surface experience, when humans gather in large numbers, the wild beasts usually flee the area. Yet these fools clearly underestimated the harshness of the Underdark. Perhaps on the surface they could hunt a few beasts for a meal, but here, in the depths of the earth, they themselves became the feast for the monsters.

This was a world of scarcity and harsh survival, where a sudden influx of so much food sent the monsters into a frenzy—if they didn’t gorge themselves now, who could say when the next bounty would come? If only these humans bred like goblins, the monsters mused, there would be an endless supply…

Driven by hunger, the monsters became almost mad, launching relentless attacks on anyone who entered their domain. At first, the mercenaries dismissed these threats, treating the creatures as mere lions or tigers. By the time they realized their mistake, it was far too late. They lost scores of their own and continued to be hunted—every few days, someone would be caught and devoured. Even the patrols of the Holy Order were not spared; several times, they had barely left the outpost before being driven back by the monsters.

It was no wonder—the Underdark was nothing like the surface. Even powerful races such as the drow and mind flayers kept to their cities and never sought to colonize unknown regions. Yet these humans blundered about as if the Underdark were their backyard.

Of course, Jan would never admit to Rox that his own beloved aberrations had enjoyed their share of these feasts.

It was said you could tell a master by a single move—others might hear Jan’s words and think him arrogant, but Rox felt they resonated with his own frustrations. Were it not for these idiot mercenaries running around drawing attention, would so many monsters have fixated on their outpost? Now, even routine patrols were a problem! And those mercenaries, still oblivious, had the gall to demand he send the knights to eliminate the monsters… Damn it, why should he clean up the mess they brought upon themselves?

This was why Rox believed that young noble Jan, to speak so insightfully, must either be well-informed or have genuine experience. So he decided to entrust Jan with the task of clearing the surrounding monsters—a win-win situation. If Jan was as competent as he claimed, the problem would be solved. Only then would Rox consider giving him greater responsibility.

Jan, naturally, understood all this. Rox, as Grand Master of the Paladins, was certainly no fool. Had he fawned over Jan upon their first meeting, Jan would have suspected ulterior motives. This arrangement suited Jan perfectly… Rox wished to use him, and Jan, in turn, sought to make use of Rox.

So many free hands at his disposal…

Naturally, Rox would not send only Jan and Elise to handle the situation, but neither would he sacrifice his own paladins. Instead, under the authority of the Holy Church, he assembled a group—mostly mercenaries and down-on-their-luck nobles. Reluctant as they were to risk their lives, they had little choice; if they wished to remain in the outpost, they had to obey. So, however unwilling, they showed up.

Still, being sent to their deaths by force was never a pleasant feeling.

When Jan and his companions, led by the young knight, arrived at the outskirts of the outpost, they quickly spotted the assembled crowd—over thirty in total. Among them were more than twenty mercenaries in leather armor and over a dozen warriors in standard-issue mail. Judging by their disciplined bearing, these were not members of the Holy Order nor ordinary mercenaries, but likely the private soldiers of a noble house.

There were also two or three paladins—Rox, it seemed, was not about to trust the task to Jan alone, and so sent his own men to keep watch, and perhaps to observe Jan’s abilities.

“Sir Liam.”

As the young knight approached, a burly, broad-shouldered man stepped out from among the mercenaries. He wore a suit of beast-hide leather and carried a flail and shield across his back, exuding an air of vigor and strength. He strode forward, casting a suspicious glance at Jan and his party before turning to the young knight with a salute.

“By Lord Rox’s command, the Blood Lion Mercenary Company is assembled. When do we depart?”

“Immediately, Captain Ralph,” replied Liam, the young knight, returning the salute. “But let me make this clear: this operation is not under the direction of the Holy Church. Command will be in the hands of Mr. Jan here. Please follow his orders.”

“What?” The mercenaries and noble retainers alike were startled, turning their eyes toward Jan. They had paid him little heed until now, but hearing that he would lead their mission left them flabbergasted. Was this a joke? This youth, barely into his twenties and looking rather frail, was to command them? Who was he—certainly not a member of the Holy Church, at least not by the look of him.

“Sir Liam, may I ask who this man is?” came a voice from the noble retainers. The speaker was a young man, slightly older than Jan, with a resolute expression, golden hair, and sharp eyes. He wore a suit of finely wrought steel armor and bore an ornate longsword, a clear mark of status. The respect shown to him by the other retainers suggested he was their leader.

“This is—” Liam seemed to recognize the young man and hurried to answer, but Jan cut him off with a wave.

“You needn’t concern yourselves with my identity. I know what’s running through your empty heads—you see me as an outsider and don’t want to follow my command. Listen well—I have no patience to argue over such pointless matters. I’m here because I know the Underdark better than any of you, and I’m stronger than any of you. That’s why Lord Rox sent me to lead this team—so you idiots wouldn’t get yourselves killed and go crying home to your mothers.”

Jan’s eyes flashed cold and sharp as blades as he adjusted his glasses and swept his gaze over the crowd.

“That’s all I have to say. Whether you accept it or not is none of my concern. If you want to come, come; if not, get lost. After all, this mess is your doing, not mine. If not for Lord Rox’s request, do you think I’d bother cleaning up after you fools?”

The crowd below flushed with anger—even Liam and the other paladins looked grim. They knew that, given Jan’s youth, commanding such a group would be difficult, but they hadn’t expected such arrogance—he had managed to offend everyone in a single breath.

“Who do you think you are, you pretty-faced brat? I’ll show you what you’re made of!” roared a towering man from the crowd, surging at Jan with a two-handed greatsword. The air around his blade howled with force, causing those nearby to step back. His strength was obvious.

Furious at Jan’s insults, he put all his strength into the blow. In a flash, he closed the distance, raising the massive sword overhead to cleave Jan in two.

Liam was aghast—he wanted to intervene, but was half a step too late, forced to watch helplessly as Jan was attacked.

But as the greatsword descended, a dazzling sword-light, bright as lightning in the darkness, flashed before everyone’s eyes.

Bang!

The next instant, the man was hurled backward as if struck by a speeding truck, crashing into the stone wall with a deep, thunderous boom. His body was driven into the rock, leaving a human-shaped imprint, before sliding down in a twitching, unconscious heap.

“Hmph, worthless—what a waste of time,” Jan sneered, glancing at the unfortunate soul before withdrawing his gaze. This time, however, no one dared rebuke his arrogance.

It all happened so suddenly that the crowd could only stare in stunned silence at the fallen mercenary, utterly at a loss for words.

What on earth had just happened?

Surely this must be a dream!