Chapter 128: Bandits and Nobles
Horal was a bandit, but he was also a noble's guard.
Most of the time, he could easily switch between these two identities.
Of course, Horal wasn't one of those bloodthirsty killers who didn't blink at taking lives.
The orders they received from above were usually just to stand in line and charge forward a few times during the battle.
As long as the other side surrendered, they wouldn't go overboard with killing; after all, they wouldn't be rewarded with more than a few silver coins anyway.
This time, though, Horal had a gut feeling that something was off.
First, they had waited in the mosquito-infested reed beds for two or three hours, with no sight of their target, and lost weight in the process.
Feeling a sharp sting on his neck, Horal quickly slapped it.
With a soft "splat," he winced, looking at the blood on his fingertips, and cursed under his breath:
"Damn place, gonna get sucked dry sooner or later."
"Quiet, or you'll catch a whipping later!"
His companion quickly pulled him aside, nervously scanning the surroundings. After seeing the others scratching and swatting at insects too, he relaxed slightly but still shot Horal an annoyed look, muttering:
"This time is different from the others. Our opponent isn't easy."
Nodding obediently, Horal knew exactly who their target was this time.
The Thorn Caravan's recent activities had caused quite a stir in Blood Moon City.
Just as the two were about to continue their conversation, a loud call rang out:
"Everyone gather up, rest for 20 minutes, and then we move out!"
The bewildered bandits emerged from the reed beds.
Many grumbled about waiting for hours in the sweltering sun, being bitten by mosquitoes, and still not seeing their target.
They could've just called it a failed mission and moved on.
But now?
They had to set out again?
Tired and frustrated, they couldn't help but complain a little.
Still, their complaints remained just words; they wouldn't dare disobey orders from above.
After all, bandits were still bandits!
...
As dusk fell, Adam Smith, who had been working hard all afternoon, exhaled deeply.
Looking at the nearly finished wooden walls, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief.
He was thankful he had communicated with the lord rather than making decisions on his own.
Even though every time he returned to Bay Territory, he saw rapid progress, he still hadn't fully grasped the speed of its construction.
Until now!
In just one afternoon.
Fifty barbarian soldiers, five hundred kobolds, and twenty clay golems.
In just four hours, they had built a 400-meter-long, 4-meter-high, and 2-meter-thick wooden wall.
At each of the four corners, they had constructed 6-meter-high watchtowers.
Once eight crossbows were mounted on the towers, a genuine sense of security washed over Adam Smith.
He instinctively lowered his head and carefully observed the kobolds scurrying through the trenches, feeling an overwhelming sense of amazement.
"To think someone could control kobolds to work so effectively and train them so well—only the lord could achieve that."
The future certainly looked bright!
Seeing the outer defenses nearly complete, Matthew nodded at Adam Smith, signaling him to move everyone into the camp.
The refugees were the first to enter.
Kobolds carrying tools poked their heads out of the underground tunnels, only to quickly retreat back inside.
The sight before them left the refugees deeply shocked.
Before they could fully process what they were seeing, Captain Mellen called out:
"Move the carriages to their designated camp spots, pitch your tents in the marked areas."
"Don't worry about the kobolds; they obey the lord's commands and are loyal, trustworthy servants of Yaya!"
"In fact, once you spend enough time around them, you'll see how 'obedient' they really are."
"But remember, don't try to bully them, or you'll lose your chance to join Bay Territory!"
"..."
As Captain Mellen gave instructions and the refugees watched the hardworking kobolds, they were filled with awe.
They couldn't help but feel a deep respect for the mysterious lord they had never met.
Power and mystery were the best tools for a lord to command his people!
Carriages were soon moved to the cleared flat ground.
After nearly ten days of training and two days of practice, the refugees quickly got to work.
They started by taking insect repellent powder from the carriages, sprinkling it around the areas where the tents would be set up, and clearing out any remaining weeds.
Tents were swiftly erected, soon filling the entire inner slope of the hill.
Once all the carriages had been brought inside the camp.
The adventurers on sentry duty outside were also called back.
But just as this was happening, the sound of fierce shouting and battle cries erupted from the distance.
A signal flare shot up into the sky, bursting into a brilliant light.
It was the emergency signal Adam Smith had given to the adventurers!
Matthew turned his head toward the eastern reeds, where nearly a thousand enemies were charging out.
Matthew instantly recognized them as enemies because they were chasing down the adventurers.
Fortunately, these adventurers were experienced and had already begun retreating before the attackers got close.
Clearly, their battles with trolls in the Dark Forest had sharpened their instincts.
This allowed them to detect the enemy early and retreat in time.
Standing on the wall, Adam Smith saw the approaching enemies and, instead of panicking, surprisingly relaxed, even cursing angrily:
"Foolish dogs who don't know what they're up against, daring to make a move against us."
Venting his frustration briefly, Adam Smith quickly regained his composure and began organizing the defense:
"Inform all refugees to stay inside their tents and not come out unless we issue a new command. Anyone who disobeys will be killed on sight!"
"Get the pushcart workers to unload carriages 20 to 40 and distribute equipment to the trained individuals. Quickly form a defense team."
"Assign four soldiers to each watchtower and ensure they bring plenty of crossbow bolts."
"Keep watch on the other three sides for any suspicious activity."
"Tell the returning adventurers to focus on defending the other three walls. We'll handle the frontal assault ourselves."
"Announce an emergency reward—one gold coin for every enemy killed!"
Orders were quickly dispatched, and the experienced Thorn Caravan members sprang into action.
The initial chaos within the camp began to settle, as a sense of calm took hold under the leadership, with only a trace of anxiety lingering.
Just as Adam Smith was directing soldiers to transport defensive supplies.
Three or four shadowy figures, as swift as lightning, closed in on him. Their weapons gleamed with a cold light, bringing deadly intent!
Another decapitation attempt!