Chapter 127: Big Shock
Varlen propped his hands on the table, silent for a moment observing all five people in front of him, and only then did he begin to speak, breaking the tense atmosphere full of eyes glancing back and forth:
"Have you people ever coordinated with each other?"
Yahama spoke up, pointing toward Rom:
"I and he have gone together already."
Rom closed his eyes, appearing uninterested:
"Just went along, when have we ever coordinated?"
Hufu spoke, his voice deep and hoarse, quite hard to hear:
"I thought I came to see to the destruction of that stone wall at the city gate?"
Varlen shook his head slightly, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sharp and cold.
"No, there will be someone else to break that."
"What I need is for you to destroy the leaders of Tharros for me. That is why I asked about coordination or not."
Hufu smirked triumphantly and with contempt; he pointed his own thumb at himself, his voice arrogant:
"What the hell is the need for coordination? We don't need it; just go out and destroy as many as possible, that is enough."
Rom nodded in support; for one part, he also did not like coordinating or going together. Last time, going with Yahama was because Varlen forced the two to go together. Because of money, he had to accept it and didn't bother to speak:
"That's right, we are all strangers to each other. Coordination just gets in each other's way, so drop that. You just need to know that we will destroy as many as possible for you and you must pay in full, that is enough."
Sasori, with a seductive voice that could move one's heart just by listening:
"You just need to arrange a place for us. For example: you let two of us hit the two flanks, the rest push the center. Then we will kill all those according to the spot you pointed out, that is enough."
Hufu lowered his voice, with a bit of threat and emphasis for Varlen to remember:
"Just pay enough money, on the battlefield we will handle it all."
Varlen still silently listened. He knew these people were just mercenaries, but overall they were very strong and could not be underestimated. Thus, he still acted very calm.
Rom spoke loudly to claim first:
"I will fight where the most troops are; don't you people dream of competing with me."
The man Hufu standing nearby growled menacingly:
"You're quite clever; fighting in the middle, soldiers are everywhere. That being so, killing many gets money. Clever ones like you, I've stuffed them all into cages."
Rom was not afraid at all, face to face with Hufu:
"Huh? Want to compete with me? Want to die?"
Hufu pressed closer, also not afraid, Rom's voice challenging:
"So what?"
Yahama put his hand out, cutting between their faces, his voice seemingly disliking these guys:
"What are you worrying about? Money is still there, killing is just the extra part."
Varlen spoke, shouting loudly:
"Enough, I will arrange for you tomorrow morning."
Hita, with an indifferent voice, soulless eyes but containing contempt, didn't even bother to glance over:
"Hmph, how can stupid ones like you understand what a battle needs?"
Hufu and Rom gritted their teeth in anger, deathly glares pinned tightly onto Hita.
Hufu's teeth grinding sound echoed.
"Do you want to die, kid? Do you believe I'll rip your guts out?"
Hita raised an eyebrow, turning over provocatively.
"Do you have an opinion? Where do you use your head? Or do you not have one?"
Hufu stepped forward, two jaws gritted tight, blue veins bulging, two large hands clenched tight walking up; his right hand was as if ready to reach back and take out the great blade.
But Rom and Yahama put their hands out and tried to stop him.
"Calm down."
Varlen also had to help mediate; after all, he still needed them:
"Alright, no need for such friction. You'll still be going together for a long time; maybe you'll get rich just after this time."
Hufu was also quite angry, but because of the need to do business, he didn't bother to fight; he wasn't a blockhead who only used hands and feet—he still knew how to think normally.
Varlen spoke:
"So how about Cavensyl's first and fourth sons?"
Hufu smirked triumphantly; this guy was also quite easy-going. As long as there was a good matter or interest, he brushed aside the anger.
"That guy, I fought with him, then he jumped down the mountain. Even if he survives, he will surely return later than the time, which is the day after tomorrow."
Sasori spoke nonchalantly, her voice a bit contemptuous:
"That girl also ran, but having been hit by my poison, it's also hard to escape. Even if she escapes, so what?"
Yahama smirked confidently as if boasting of an achievement, a grin full of delight like a pervert when remembering the mess of Funa when she was crushed by iron blocks and only one arm remained:
"That second child of Cavensyl is dead. Flattened in Rom's iron blocks, truly interesting."
Varlen nodded, his eyes sharp and cold. In his gaze, the intention to destroy Tharros by any price was clearly shown.
"Cavensyl, you people living so comfortably—it's time to hand it over to us. I will level Tharros into a flat land."
"You just wait; so many years always being underestimated, political ties all taken by you. Must level Tharros."
Varlen was feeling too unpleasant; his body at this moment felt as if a thousand fire ants were biting, and the solution was that he must level Tharros to be satisfied. The feud accumulated from many generations, now even heavier, and now that pile of straw had a flame burning everything. After so many times being oppressed, losing major ties with nobles that could make Roam more prosperous, he would go all-in for this declaration of war against Tharros.
Varlen was silent, making the five mercenaries not know what to say either. Then suddenly he smirked as if he could imagine his victory against Tharros.
He growled with emphasis, carrying a bit of the pressure of a ruler. Showing that he was still a man of power, don't think that having a bit of strength allows one to bring a different attitude toward him:
"Then let me repeat once more."
"The civilians—none are to be killed if you enter Tharros city."
"The more enemy soldiers you kill, the more handsomely I will reward. Kill their leaders and the reward is even more. Heard clearly?"
All five mercenaries smirked; they were happy and delighted because a large sum of money was coming when hired by Varlen. They were the five strongest among the mercenary group hired; the fame of their killing could be said to have echoed far. Thus, they were no different from hungry beasts when smelling meat from afar.
…
On Cavensyl's side…
The other side hired strong ones, so why not this side? But his head was floating in the clouds as he sat in a tent and waited for those mercenaries to be called.
His head floated, sad, angry, realizing he should not be like this compared to the big picture.
Recalling what happened at the meeting table…
Cavensyl held his head, tears flowing in streams as he bowed low under the table.
The information of his second daughter Funa had arrived. His mind imagined the scene of him stepping toward a wooden box placed on the ground at a vacant lot; inside was only a single remaining arm, along with a sword placed beside. He collapsed to his knees and wailed, hands grasping the cold arm of his daughter, heart aching as if cut, heart and liver hot as if wanting to explode. His mind suddenly thought of revenge, but the sadness brushed it away and he still wailed and cried.
The remaining arm only had the bracelet that he had given Funa when she had just turned ten; Funa's smile as a child appeared extremely cute and innocent, the call "Father!" echoing in his mind.
Tears and snot flowed profusely, extremely pathetic; if others saw, they might not recognize this as the master of Tharros city. He interlaced his hands with his daughter's hand still stained with some red blood, as if using the warmth of his body to make his daughter's hand warm again.
Soma, the vice-captain of the western army, stood there, head bowed, not daring to look at this horrific scene.
He was a middle-aged man, with a somewhat thick beard. Black hair and a tall stature made him look extremely mature.
…
Not yet finished with the shock of his daughter's death. He sat dazed in the chair, two eyes bruised—one might think someone punched his eyes—indifferent and soulless, body relaxed, mind empty, not following any memory stream; this shock was truly horrific to him.
That was information that the two children, Clamr, the eldest brother of the others, and the fourth daughter, Min. Soldiers had scanned everywhere; the scene left behind was only large holes, long cuts on trees and the ground left by slashes. Their bodies were not found anywhere, only blood scattered everywhere.
This event was truly too great a shock to him. He was currently blaming himself, just because of a battle, just because he called his children back to help him. Yet it led to this; he regretted, he was furious, he was numb... Now he didn't know what his emotions were anymore, too confused.
With such a great loss, winning against Roam truly could not compensate. How could his children return anymore, even if they won? Everything had surpassed what he imagined, so now he was like a lost soul upon receiving the news.
Being a noble, a viscount, but with low vision—even though he had good business ties for the city, so what? When this battle ends, everything is like returning to the starting line. Being a ruler but with narrow vision, only thinking simply about a problem leads to his emotions now being like a tangled mess of parachute cord.
Only now did he himself realize he was not capable of ruling. His eyes looked indifferently at the ceiling, blinking a few times as if a part of him had returned. But it was the self-blaming part.