Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
“It is as expected of Young Master’s soup. It tastes delicious.”
Sven sat cross-legged on the snowy ground as he held a bowl of steaming hot soup in his hand. He sniffed the soup and tilted the bowl. He took a big gulp and exhaled a cloud of hot air.
Many others were like him. Tens of thousands of refugees drank the hot soup and chatted with each other around the soup cauldron. Many also held a bottle of wine in their hands; they drank until their faces were red. They held hands and danced as if it was not winter yet; it was a day that was worth a celebration.
Sven’s gaze was gentle. His thoughts drifted to an unknown place. Last winter, he had led his Shabby Bandit Gang brothers in many robberies when the magical beasts raged. He saw only scenes of devastation and bloodied corpses.
However, that year, he only saw happy people and their resolute faces despite their sufferings. That thought made him emotional.
“Sven, that soup was made by the maids—the former Demoness Bandit Gang leaders. I didn’t make them.”
In response to Sven’s compliment, Watson, who was nearby, turned back and replied to him.
“Ahem.”
Sven paused, and he nearly choked. “Well, the soup is delicious, but as I drank more of it, I realized it was quite mediocre. As expected, it is not better than Young Master Watson’s cooking.”
“Although I did not make the soup, I did prepare the ingredients.”
“That is what I said. Although the soup isn’t perfect and appears to be missing something, the magical beast meat and ginseng in it are delicious; I can’t stop eating it. As expected, the problem is that the ingredients are too good.”
“I prepared the ingredients, but I did not fuse them. Allen and Liszt got them near the Misty Forest.”
“Ah, I see… When I mentioned that the magical beast meat and ginseng were delicious, I was mistaken. The meat has a distinct fishy odor.”
“Alright, Sven, I did not ask you for jokes.”
Watson could not keep it to himself much longer and interrupted Sven. Sven had congratulated him when he learned Watson had something to do with the pot of soup. It was obvious that he was trying to flatter him. Liszt and Allen, who were also beside him, looked at Sven with unkind eyes. If it were not for the Young Master, the two of them would have already left.
Nightingale had inquired about Blackmoon Castle accepting refugees and a large number of magical beasts. Watson wanted to invite Nightingale to join him in exploring the Misty Forest, so he requested Liszt and Allen to invite Sven as well.
Sven was only a figurehead in Blackmoon Castle and the leader of the ruined bandit gang. Under Watson’s instructions, he openly searched for his team members. Unfortunately, because hundreds of bandit gangs, large and small, were destroyed in the Misty Forest, the remaining gangs either fled to other parts of the border or hid in the mountains, not daring to come out.
That led to the winter that year. The bandits almost always attacked the nearby manors. That did not, however, imply that fewer individuals had perished that year. On the contrary, because the magical beasts that emerged from the Misty Forest that year were particularly formidable, there was no shortage of silver-tier magical beasts among them, resulting in the massacre of some small manors.
One of the reasons for going to the Misty Forest was to find out why the magical beasts were stronger than the previous years and if anything had happened in the Misty Forest.
Sven finished the hot soup in two or three gulps. He rubbed his hands and asked, “May I know why you’ve invited me here, Young Master?”
“Tell us about your plan to go to the Misty Forest.”
Sven looked around, nodded, and continued to describe his idea. “Then I will speak casually. The Misty Forest has countless ruins, many of which were left behind by lost civilizations. I know a few, but they are all attended by formidable guards.”
He was a member of Blackmoon Castle. Unlike the Blackmoon Knights, he was still stuck at the silver tier because Watson did not give him any sun or moon gems that could upgrade him to the gold tier. That was the same for the former Demoness Bandit Gang leaders.
If he wanted to gain more benefits, he had to contribute to Blackmoon Castle.
Sven drew his walking stick from his waist as he spoke. It was a wooden staff. It had seven inlaid positions, but there were no gemstones. The staff exuded a silver-tier aura.
“My staff is called the Undead Calamity. It can control the movements of the undead and the dead. This was found in a ruin, and it was an underground palace. I don’t know how many floors there were, but I’m sure there are more precious treasures down there,” Sven said confidently.
“As you may have heard, I was planning to leave with the magical beasts after preparing food for the refugees. I was not expecting Young Master and Miss Nightingale to return at that moment. In that case, you can come with us.”
Watson smiled. He had been coveting the treasures in the Misty Forest for a long time.
Those items from the ancient lost civilizations were extremely powerful, and they might be able to fuse with platinum-tier tools. When he imagined himself acquiring a large number of tools and fusing them into platinum-tier tools for his family members and subordinates, he could not help but get excited.
They could get gold-tier strength and platinum-tier tools. If everyone in Blackmoon Castle had such standards, his goal to stand at the top of the kingdom would no longer be a dream.
“I understand why you want to go to the Misty Forest, Watson, but you have not explained why you want to take in so many refugees. Was that also proposed by that man, Sven?” Nightingale nodded; she was not quite sure what had happened. She shook her head again; she was not an exceptionally bright individual.
“Well—”
Watson paused. He had additional reasons for accepting those refugees. However, he did not want to tell Nightingale at that moment.
“Let me explain that.”
Sven continued to say, “That was not my idea; it was Young Master’s idea. He might be young, but he is kind, and I admire him.”
Even though he said so, he knew that Watson did not do that because he was kind; he only wanted to gain more fame.
He used to be a noble who was skilled at manipulating people’s emotions, so he understood it when he saw the significance of Watson’s actions. He had turned down the refugees who came to seek safety because he was tight with money.
That was the Fool’s way. The wise strategy was to provide favors, acquire their gratitude, and then entice them to join his camp. Even if they did not say anything, those individuals would be rewarded in the future, and they would be more loyal than those who took the initiative to recruit them.
Sven looked around with that thought in mind. He knew that many refugees would occasionally look at Watson while eating, their eyes filled with respect. If the people hated their leader, they would eventually be overthrown no matter how strong they were. On the contrary, if the people liked their leader, they would be elected king even if they accomplished nothing.
“That’s how it is. Nightingale, Young Master, if you have no problems, let’s go now.” Watson did not want to continue that topic. He clapped his hands and looked at the people around him.
“I don’t have any problems.”
Nightingale and the Shadow Guards nodded. They were there to help escort the things and also to monitor Blackmoon Castle. Since Watson wanted to explore the ruins, they would have to go too. It was an excellent time to see what was in the ruins so that they could report to the border count.
The astrologer shook his head. “I’m not going. I’m tired and need to rest.”
Watson had just deprived him of 100 years of his life. Although it did not affect his strength, it did have an effect on his mood.
“Are you certain you will not go, Master? What if your cute disciple is in danger?” Watson rubbed his right hand gently. A World Tree branch wiggled out, and a translucent ring released colorful starlight from it. “It just so happens that I can make one more wish with this ring. Perhaps I can wish for my master to accompany me. I wonder how many years of Master’s life would that cost?”
If Watson made a wish for him to go with them, it would take some years off his life. It was too painful; the astrologer frowned. It seemed like he had no choice but to go.
“Fine, I’ll come with you. When do we set off?”
“Now.”
Watson smiled and clapped his hands. The hundreds of thousands of magical beasts that were moving things around Blackmoon Town immediately split into groups of a hundred thousand. They turned around and laid down in the direction of the town. Watson twisted the ring on his right index finger, and he began to make a wish.
“I want to make a wish. I’m willing to use ten years of my master’s life in exchange for transporting me, my men, and the magical beasts I’ve chosen to the ancient ruins in the Misty Forest.”
A vast magic array appeared under the feet of Watson and the others, and it also enveloped the hundreds of thousands of magical beasts outside the town. All the refugees and the Blackmoon Knights cast their gazes toward the commotion; their faces were filled with shock. As the light flickered, Watson and the others, along with the magical beasts, disappeared.
Only a few strands of white hair that had just fallen off remained in the air as it continued to fall, as well as a certain someone’s rage.
“Gah! Watson, you little b*stard! You did this again?!”
