OBS Chapter 636 The Plan
Chapter 636 The Plan
"What? You want us to travel all the way to the mountains to wipe out a mercenary group?"
Inside the tavern, after listening to his adjutant's report, a centurion named Yoda slammed his earthenware wine cup heavily onto the wooden table, which was covered in knife marks and wine stains, with a dull thud.
"What do those idiots up there think we, the soldiers of Yoda, are?"
He slammed the table.
“We should be guarding the border and dealing with the well-equipped regular army of the Kingdom of Midland, instead of running to this godforsaken place.”
"Eliminate mercenary groups? That's easier said than done!"
He scoffed.
"Who doesn't know that the terrain in the mountains is as complicated as a tangled mess? Those mercenary gangs are always out in the mountains, they know every path and every cave, they run faster than rabbits and are more cunning than foxes. If we, a thousand people, go in with our heavy equipment, we'll be sitting ducks!"
"If we can't get enough supplies, that's a minor issue. What if the soldiers get sick from the change in environment or contract diseases? Aren't there plenty of poisonous insects and wild beasts in the mountains? Not to mention, what if those mercenary groups set up an ambush and lure us into a dead end! If we win, that's fine, but if we lose or suffer heavy losses, the higher-ups will definitely put all the blame on me and say that I failed in my command!"
Complaints poured out of his mouth like a machine gun, while his adjutant stood to the side, his head hanging even lower, not daring to breathe.
"What's most damning is that they actually sent that idiot Adon to be my boss!"
The centurion's voice suddenly rose, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt and disgust.
"Besides being rich and knowing how to flatter and fawn over the council of nobles, what else can that guy do?"
He kept complaining, sometimes cursing his superiors for making wrong decisions, sometimes cursing Adon for being stupid and incompetent, and sometimes complaining about his bad luck in getting such a miserable job.
The adjutant could only nod occasionally in agreement, not daring to express any of his own opinions, for fear of accidentally becoming the centurion's punching bag.
Just as the centurion was getting into his tirade, a series of crisp footsteps came from the tavern entrance. Centurion Yoda instinctively looked up, and his eyes, which were originally full of anger, were instantly replaced by a gleam of obsessive greed, like a hungry wolf spotting its fat prey.
The tavern owner's daughter walked past the door. She wore a simple light blue dress, the hem of which swayed gently with her steps. Her long, black hair was tied up with a simple wooden hairpin, and a few strands of hair fell beside her cheeks, swaying slightly with her movements, adding a touch of charming naivety.
Her skin was as white as a freshly peeled egg, glowing with a lustrous sheen in the dim light, and her eyes were as bright as stars in the night sky, clear and pure.
At that moment, she was carrying a tray with several bowls of steaming soup on it, walking lightly across the lobby with a faint smile on her face, serving the soup to the guests at the next table.
The centurion's gaze was fixed on her as if drawn by a magnet, scrutinizing every detail from her dark hair to her slender waist and the glimpse of her fair legs peeking out from under her skirt.
His face, which had just been full of irritation, instantly transformed into a lewd smile, his eyes practically overflowing with greed, his lips involuntarily parting to reveal yellowed teeth, and his throat bobbing as he did so.
"Tsk tsk, what a beauty in the making!"
The centurion muttered in a low voice, sticking out his tongue to lick his dry lips.
"I never expected to find such a treasure hidden in this run-down tavern. Her skin is so fair, her eyes so bright, and her figure so graceful—she's even more captivating than those pampered noble ladies in the city!"
Desire grew wildly in his heart like weeds, and the centurion could no longer restrain himself. He braced himself on the table with both hands and was about to stand up abruptly.
The adjutant had been keeping a close eye on him, and when he saw this, his heart skipped a beat, and he instantly understood what the man was planning to do.
Without a second thought, he stepped forward, grabbed the centurion's arm, his face filled with anxiety, and whispered in his ear:
"Chief, absolutely not! She's going to marry the military advisor of the Kingdom of Heldran!"
"what?"
The centurion's movements suddenly stopped, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head; the infatuation and eagerness on his face instantly froze.
The adjutant nodded vigorously, lowering his voice and speaking urgently:
“It’s absolutely true! She is from Heldland, and the wedding is in two weeks.”
"The military advisor of the Kingdom of Heldran is highly trusted by our military and wields considerable power. We cannot afford to provoke her! If you touch a Heldran woman now, Heldran will certainly not let it go. Not only will this mission be affected, but your future will also be ruined!"
The centurion's face turned pale and then red, and the greed and desire in his eyes were slowly replaced by resentment and anger.
He glared fiercely at the tavern owner's daughter not far away, then looked menacingly at his adjutant, his fingers clenched into fists so tightly that his nails almost dug into his flesh.
He was truly unwilling to give up such a beauty, but the Kingdom of Heldran weighed heavily on his mind, preventing him from making any rash moves.
"damn it!"
The centurion muttered a curse under his breath, his tone full of resentment and bitterness.
In the end, the centurion, in a fit of anger, slowly loosened his fist, sullenly sat back in his chair, his chest heaving violently from holding his breath.
A few days later, Commander Yoda led his thousand-man squad on a grand march into the mountains.
The caravan moved along the rugged road, raising clouds of dust, the sounds of horses' hooves, footsteps, and the rustling of armor mingling together.
The centurion, mounted on a tall black warhorse, still had a gloomy face, and the impatience between his brows had not diminished at all, but rather became even more intense due to days of marching.
He would occasionally pull on the reins, look around at the desolate landscape, and curse incessantly.
"Why is this ghost road so difficult to traverse? If this continues, the soldiers will collapse from exhaustion before we even reach the mercenary group!"
"What kind of idiots planned this route? They actually made us take this lousy road!"
"That guy, Adon, can't even plan a marching route properly, he's a complete waste!"
Throughout the journey, his complaints never stopped. He would complain about the difficult roads, the hot weather, and the soldiers' slow pace.
The soldiers accompanying him were already used to his temper, so they all lowered their heads, not daring to utter a sound, and could only quicken their pace.
After a three-day trek, they finally reached the edge of the mountains.
The mountain wind howled, and the surroundings were eerily quiet. Apart from the wind, there was no other sound, not even birdsong or insect chirps, as if this were a desolate, abandoned place.
Occasionally, a few pebbles would roll down the steep hillside, making a "whoosh" sound that was particularly clear in the silent mountains, sending chills down one's spine.
Commander Yoda reined in his horse, his brow furrowing even more deeply.
He looked around and saw only towering mountains shrouded in mist, making it impossible to see anything inside.
Such terrain was a nightmare for a large force like theirs.
"Damn it! Is this place even fit for a human being?"
Commander Yoda cursed under his breath, his tone filled with disgust and impatience.
"This lousy mountain area doesn't even have a decent road. How are we supposed to get in and find people? Those mercenary gang scum are hiding in there like rats; they're impossible to find!"
He turned his horse around and gave an order to his adjutant beside him:
"Order the troops to set up camp on flat ground three miles from the mountains! Let the soldiers rest and recuperate. Also, send ten skilled scouts in two groups to capture some locals from the nearby villages to act as guides. Without guides, we cannot rashly venture into the mountains, lest we fall into an ambush by those mercenary groups!"
"Yes, Commander!"
The adjutant quickly responded and turned to relay the order.
The soldiers breathed a sigh of relief when they heard that they could set up camp.
They immediately sprang into action: some set up tents, some started fires to cook, some organized weapons and equipment, and some were on guard duty. The camp quickly took shape.
The centurion sat in his command tent, drinking the cheap ale offered by a soldier, still feeling restless and uneasy.
Looking at the gray sky outside the tent, he thought about how long he would have to stay in this godforsaken place and face mercenary groups somewhere else, and the thought gave him a headache.
He began to miss the taverns and beautiful women in town, the comfortable bed and the delicious food, and his discontent grew stronger.
"How unlucky!"
He muttered to himself.
"If I had known it would be such a godforsaken place, I would never have come! After this mission is over, I will definitely apply to my superiors for an easier job and never have to come to this godforsaken place again!"
He complained as he drank, his eyes filled with impatience and disgust.
He even began to regret not having snatched that beauty away from everything back then. If she were serving him now, perhaps it would alleviate some of the frustration in his heart.
However, their every move did not escape the eyes of the militiamen lurking in the mountains.
On a mountain peak not far from their camp, several militiamen lay prone behind rocks, peering closely through the gaps in the leaves at the camp below.
The militia captain gripped his weapon tightly, his brow furrowed. He looked at the soldiers bustling about below, listening to the faint sounds of activity, and said in a deep voice:
"They've started setting up camp and even sent out scouts; it seems they're looking for a guide to go into the mountains. The situation is urgent; we must report this to Lord Griffith immediately!"
He turned to look at a militiaman beside him, his tone urgent:
"Go down the mountain immediately and find Griffith as quickly as possible. Tell him the details of the situation here so he can prepare accordingly! Remember, be careful on the way and don't let Yoda's scouts spot you!"
"understand!"
The militiaman immediately responded and carefully climbed down the steep slope, quickly disappearing into the dense forest.
The militia captain and several others remained lying on the rocks, keeping a close watch on the camp below.
With his familiarity with the terrain, the militiaman ran all the way and finally arrived at Griffith's camp at dusk.
He rushed into the camp, straight to Griffith's tent, his face full of anxiety:
"Lord Griffith, the Yodas are here! They've already set up camp on the edge of the mountains and sent scouts to capture locals to be their guides!"
Griffith was studying a map in his tent when he heard this, so he stood up.
"understood."
His tone was calm, but he couldn't hide the sharpness in his eyes.
"Notify everyone to assemble at the council tent immediately!"
Inside the council tent, a simple wooden table was surrounded by people.
Griffiths stood before the table, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, and said in a deep voice:
"Yoda's thousand-strong force has reached the edge of the mountains, intending to enter the mountains and wipe out the mercenary group, but we cannot let our guard down. Whether their target is the mercenary group or they have other plans, they may threaten our homeland."
He paused and continued:
“We have already developed a response plan, and now it’s time to implement it. Everyone must act according to the established division of labor, each performing their duties without any mistakes!”