“Brother, do you think Baron Quentin might have discovered our plan?”
Rod asked Rocco, who was thoroughly enjoying his meal, his voice tinged with worry from their luxurious restaurant near the Sky Garden scenic area.
Rocco paused his eating, picked up a napkin to wipe his lips, and then chuckled. “His intellect probably can’t grasp anything so complex. Anyway, you’ve been quite distracted all day at the Sky Garden; turns out you were pondering this.”
“Yes,” Rod nodded. “According to the intelligence we’ve gathered, Baron Quentin personally oversees the commercial management of the Sky Garden every year when it opens, always striving to boost the atmosphere and maximize profits.”
“But this year, the Baron’s behavior has been extremely abnormal. Despite knowing our identities, he didn’t even see us off when we left, and he completely ignored the commercial district here at Sky Garden.”
“Our scouts in the Lord’s City also reported that Baron Quentin has been ostentatiously gathering manpower, practically emptying all the nearby soldiers. It looks like he’s preparing for some kind of punitive expedition. I’m worried something might have gone wrong.”
“From the current situation, your brother Adair’s plan has indeed gone awry, but this is quite normal,” Rocco explained. “The more complex a plan, and the longer its time span, the greater the chance of errors.”
“Astute strategists never aim for a hundred percent perfect plan. They set an acceptable margin of error in their minds, and any fluctuations within that range are permissible.”
Rod questioned, “But we don’t know if we’ve exceeded that margin of error here.”
Rocco smiled. “Indeed, but I don’t believe such a significant blunder could occur with Lord Adair acting as an agent himself. What, have you lost faith in your brother Adair?”
Rod pouted, looking at Rocco. His second brother was good in every way, except for his cynical attitude which sometimes made him anxious. He clearly held all the cards, yet refused to say anything.
“Second Brother, please be serious.”
Facing his younger brother’s plea, Rocco, unlike before, did not give Rod an answer. Instead, he asked, “Now that the plan has deviated and Baron Brandon’s troops are arriving soon, my brother, it’s time to make a decision. Issue the command.”
Rod was caught off guard. “Huh, me giving orders? What kind of orders?”
Looking at Rod’s bewildered eyes, Rocco pressed on. “Of course, it’s the command for the next phase of action. My brother, you haven’t forgotten whose will this operation is being carried out under, have you?”
Rod asked, puzzled, “Isn’t it Big Brother Adair?”
Rocco shook his finger, giving a negative answer. “Of course not. I, Kelly, Baron Brandon, and the soldiers poised outside—they are not acting on Lord Adair’s orders.”
“They are acting for you, offering their loyalty and strength because of your will. Therefore, it is now your turn to bear their strength and loyalty and issue the next command.”
Rod’s mind reeled in a panic. “Ah, but before this, you were always the one doing it, Brother.”
Rocco nodded. “Yes, but from now on, I can no longer help you.”
“But—”
Rod seemed about to say something, but Rocco interrupted him without hesitation. “There are no ‘buts.’ The time for action is almost here. If you don’t issue instructions promptly, it could delay the opportune moment and expose our intentions.”
“Brother, I will not make decisions for you this time, even if the plan fails.”
“How can you do this?”
“It must be this way; you must learn to take responsibility. Moreover, whether this plan succeeds or fails will not have much impact on us. In this matter, our identity, status, and power afford us too many avenues of retreat and leeway.”
With that, Rocco quietly stared at Rod, waiting for him to calm down, waiting for him to begin thinking, waiting for him to shoulder his responsibilities alone.
Rod’s face was slick with sweat, like a student about to turn in an exam with a major question unfinished. He took several deep breaths, beginning to organize the information in his mind.
Adair’s original plan was to gather manpower and, relying on numerical superiority, directly seize the Lord’s City, then finish up at the mines.
However, if the scout’s intelligence was correct, there were hardly any soldiers left guarding the Lord’s City, effectively making it an empty fortress.
Moreover, the Baron had taken out far more men than Adair had anticipated, meaning the variables at the mines were now greater. This implied a need to compensate for the errors there, possibly by sacrificing some of the success rate of attacking the city.
Half an hour later, Rod began to issue his commands, his voice trembling slightly. “The original plan must be changed. We will split into two routes.”
“Kelly and I will launch a surprise attack on the Lord’s City to secure evidence of the Baron’s crimes, ensuring the entire territory remains stable. Second Brother, you will take a portion of the men directly to the mine where the Baron’s third treasure vault is located, to support Big Brother Adair.”
Rod looked at Rocco, hoping he would offer some advice.
To Rod’s disappointment, Rocco did not offer suggestions. Instead, he blinked and said, “You’re not just commanding me, but also the troops outside. Talking to me here alone is useless.”
Rod sighed in defeat. “I wanted Second Brother to check if there were any flaws in the plan.”
“From your perspective, this should be the best possible plan right now. As for me, it’s not good.”
Rod quickly asked, “Why?”
Rocco walked over to Rod, patted his head, and said, “Because this would reduce your safety margin. Now, go and give your orders to your soldiers.”
Rod nodded bashfully, then ran out.
Rocco shook his head from behind, muttering, “Those guys are really reckless. Now I have to clean up their mess.”
****
Meanwhile, Adair sat in the Baron’s war chariot. The slight panic he had felt due to the plan’s deviation had completely subsided.
This setback was still within his tolerance. The Baron and the Golden Bright Stockade’s actions were proceeding according to plan. The only potential error might be in combat strength.
Adair glanced at the Baron, who had been in an agitated state since they set off, constantly urging them forward. This fellow was the biggest variable.
Under the Baron’s incessant shouts, his troops reached the mines much faster than expected. Fortunately, Hutou was already in position.
Upon seeing such a formidable force, Hutou himself felt his scalp tingle. This was quite different from what had been agreed upon.
But now he was in too deep; his brothers all around him were already deployed, with no way to escape. They could only lie in ambush here and annihilate the Baron and his men.
The Baron’s troops halted before the mines. Quentin drove his war chariot, hoisted his battle-axe, and stood at the front of the formation, looking every bit like a pot-bellied god of war.
Quentin wielded his battle-axe, which weighed as much as two of him, as if it were a mere stick. The strength he displayed made the soldiers and bodyguards who knew his true nature glance at each other in surprise. Could their supposedly useless lord truly be a hidden master?
Quentin pointed his battle-axe forward and roared, “Charge! All of you, charge! Kill everyone alive in the mines! Better to kill a thousand innocent than let one escape! I will heavily reward anyone who kills that ghost and that old geezer with ten thousand gold each!”
Adair gasped. He was now certain Quentin had truly gone mad. Ten thousand gold! It wasn’t that Quentin couldn’t afford it, but in the past, he, who valued money above all else, would never have offered such a sum to boost morale, especially for *each* person!
His troops were also highly motivated. The officers under Quentin’s command were prepared to lead the charge, but to their surprise, Quentin himself brandished his battle-axe, whipped a few swift dragons, and drove his war chariot, personally leading the charge towards the mines.
The rotund Quentin, commanding the war chariot, resembled a colossal boulder with an engine attached. The sheer visual impact was stunning enough.
Everyone was dumbfounded. Was this really that coward?
Adair now suspected that cult had performed brain surgery on this pot-belly.
No, this wasn’t the time to think about that, he was still on the war chariot!
Adair’s face turned green. Quentin was practically inviting a head-on confrontation, without any reconnaissance of the enemy’s situation. Wasn’t this just a suicide mission?
The enemy had the advantage of the terrain!
From his position, Hutou also spotted a ‘meatball’ hurtling towards them at high speed.
“I didn’t expect that fat pig to find a reckless brute similar in size to him. Heh, he seems quite strong. Is this what they call birds of a feather?”
Hutou was a thousand percent certain that wasn’t Quentin himself. He would sooner believe the sun rose in the west than think this desperate fighter was Quentin.
“Then let’s use this fat pig as our first sacrifice! Get ready, everyone! Unleash all the traps on this fat pig!”
“Yes!”
The Baron’s subordinates, seeing him charge forward, dared not delay. They ignored formations and tactics, simply following the Baron’s charge.
Adair, at this point, furtively hid inside the war chariot, looking at the disconnected troops behind him, a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he had heard of such a chaotic way of fighting.
Sure enough, halfway through the Baron’s charge, various boulders and logs were hurled down, along with arrows raining from above.
Adair helplessly drew his sword for defense, but today Quentin seemed possessed. He continuously swung his massive axe, cleaving out axe-qi that shattered boulders and knocked down arrows. Not a single attack landed on the war chariot.
He had initially thought Quentin was a mere bronze-tier fighter, but in reality, once he unleashed his inner power, he was a true king.
Adair finally managed an honest compliment. “The Baron is remarkably brave.”
Hutou, too, watched in stunned silence. The fat man certainly had some tricks up his sleeve, but the more he looked, the more this stout figure resembled that fat pig, Quentin.
‘Impossible, impossible,’ Hutou found it laughable that he was even having such a delusion.
“Keep on smashing them! They won’t be able to act so arrogantly for long!”