Seeing Don Quixote appear, the nineteen members of the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company standing around the courtyard instantly paused what they were doing and looked his way.
Looks like I'll need to find a bigger place to stay, or maybe a proper manse.
Don Quixote swept his gaze across the somewhat crowded courtyard. As the thought flashed through his mind, he spoke slowly:
"Yesterday, House Manderly invited me to a banquet.
"At the feast, I learned some news.
"White Harbor is joining forces with Oldcastle to wipe out the raiders in the surrounding territories.
"Both lords are absolutely determined. Aside from the city watches of both castles, they are also hiring many reputable and capable knights and sellswords in the city!"
Pausing for a moment, Don Quixote met the eyes of the men around him and continued:
"That's right. Thanks to the hard work of every single one of you, the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company has been recognized by House Manderly, and they have hired us for the job!"
Someone quickly asked:
"Captain, how's the pay being calculated? Or is there any at all? I've heard plenty of Northern lords just offer basic supplies when hiring knights and sellswords, without coughing up a single Gold Dragon or Silver Stag."
At this, the members who had never taken a lordly contract broke into anxious mutters.
However, a veteran sellsword immediately chimed in:
"Lord Wyman isn't some petty lord. He'll definitely pay out in gold and silver."
Don Quixote stepped in at the right moment:
"Don't worry. Along with guaranteed supplies, there will be Silver Stags.
"For every raider you capture or kill, there's a bounty of 100 Silver Stags!"
"Only 100 Silver Stags?"
Hearing this, the vast majority of the men looked deeply disappointed.
Capturing or killing a raider.
It wasn't easy, and it carried massive risks.
Worse still, there was a high chance they'd reach the end of the mission with absolutely nothing to show for it.
All in all, it felt far less profitable than just completing a standard escort contract.
Don Quixote added:
"However, Lord Wyman is planning to host a grand tourney. If we perform well, we'll earn an invitation to compete!"
Despite this, many remained unenthusiastic.
It was fine to boast over drinks, but in a real tourney, they would just be background fodder.
Not to mention, some of them weren't even knights.
They cared about real, tangible benefits—cold, hard Gold Dragons and Silver Stags.
Not some intangible glory.
Still, a few men looked eager, quickly asking:
"Captain, what does it take to get that invitation?"
Don Quixote smiled and replied slowly:
"By putting on a stellar performance during this sweep, of course.
"If you want to fight in the tourney, then go out there and prove it. If you capture or kill more raiders than anyone else...
"Then you'll absolutely secure a spot in that tourney!"
Noticing that some men still seemed reluctant, Don Quixote threw out his hook:
"That bounty earlier was just Lord Wyman's coin. But within the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company, for every raider you capture or kill, I will personally reward you with 1 Gold Dragon!"
> [Employer: Lord Wyman]
>
>
> [Quest: Capture or kill raiders in the areas surrounding White Harbor and Oldcastle.
> (This quest is based on the number of raiders captured or killed. A reward can be claimed for each raider dealt with.)]
>
>
> [Reward: 100 Gold Dragons (Unclaimable)]
The moment he said this, the entire courtyard lit up:
"Captain, generous as always! Those cheap bastards could learn a thing or two from you!"
"Captain, I won't let a single raider slip away!"
"Captain, I won't let you down!"
You guys are making a profit, but I'm making an absolute killing!
Watching the morale of his nineteen men skyrocket, Don Quixote smiled and steadily laid out the rest of the details.
Finally, he ordered:
"This contract comes from Lord Wyman himself. The Bloody Hand cannot afford to underperform!
"Old rules apply. From this moment until the mission is completely finished:
"No man gets drunk!
"No man picks a fight!
"Every single one of you get ready, and I mean dead-serious ready! Be prepared to move at a moment's notice!"
"Yes, Captain! We won't let you down! We're ready!"
A sharp, unified roar of agreement echoed through the courtyard.
How the hell do I handle you two? Sigh... this is turning into a headache.
Don Quixote stared at the backs of the nineteen men as they filed out of the courtyard, his gaze finally locking onto Tom and Shane.
Over the past three months, he had recruited nine more men.
Adding them to the original seven he'd recruited, plus Warren, Tom, and Shane.
Counting himself, the Bloody Hand Mercenary Company now stood at twenty members strong!
Among them, seven possessed ironclad convictions—the truly loyal type.
The kind of men who, once they committed to a person, a cause, or a faction, would never waver. They would stay loyal to the grave.
Don Quixote's ultimate goal was to win their respect and lock down their absolute loyalty!
Then there were ten men whose convictions weren't quite as firm, but they were far from useless.
These were the "bottom-line" loyalists.
They wouldn't burn bridges or risk everything for a singular belief or person.
Faced with pressure, temptation, or conflict, they might hesitate, waver, or compromise. They didn't view the world in extreme black-and-white.
But they had clear moral boundaries that weren't easily crossed.
"Never break a vow, never bite the hand that feeds, and never stab a brother in the back"—these were their core operating principles.
For them, the psychological toll of betrayal far outweighed any short-term gain, meaning they wouldn't easily abandon a contract.
As long as the pay was good and the respect was mutual, they made excellent subordinates.
Tom and Shane, on the other hand, were pure opportunists.
Their morals were highly flexible, and the mental cost of betrayal was practically zero.
To them, vows, trust, and allegiances were nothing more than bargaining chips.
However, the two of them hadn't actually done anything out of line yet.
Don Quixote hadn't found a justifiable reason to fire them that the rest of the men would accept.
Sure, he could just cut them loose without a word.
But doing so would leave the rest of the Bloody Hand feeling paranoid and expendable.
That would make earning their true loyalty and trust much harder.
---
A short distance away, agonizing, desperate screams ripped through the air.
Five cargo wagons had been overturned in the dirt.
Raiders wielding curved blades were slaughtering the caravan hands who dared to fight back.
As for the caravan guards and hired knights—they were either already dead or had long since bolted.
The lead raider was gleefully torturing the merchant master, carving into him cut by cut while laughing maniacally.
Don Quixote charged straight at them.
Seeing that he was completely alone, the seven raiders broke into wild, mocking cheers:
"Well, look at this! Where did this little lost sheep wander in from?"
"Hahaha! What a pathetic, overconfident bastard!"
"He actually thinks he can interrupt our fun? Does he have a death wish?
"His horse, his armor, his life—I'm taking it all!"
"Chop him to pieces!"
But a split second later, the smirks vanished from the seven raiders' faces.
Behind Don Quixote, slowly emerging from the surroundings...
Were over a dozen mounted cavalrymen, completely clad in chainmail.
---