Chapter 77
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Chapter 77: Rebuilding Order
Midi glanced at the divided crowd and grasped the situation through his adventurer experience from building the Hawk Brigade in his past life—though their exact roles were unclear, it seemed many had been stirred up. This aligned with his expectations; neither surprising nor significant.
With calm composure, he walked to Odel and dumped the two captives from his shoulders onto the ground like sacks. The heavy *thuds* echoed sharply in the silence. These were feared leaders of the Blood Blade Corps, elite Demon Swordmen. Now they lay defeated—like gamebirds trussed up by a rookie hunter, ready for plucking and frying.
The leaders of the five mercenary corps instinctively flinched, cold dread prickling their spines.
“Was Alyn injured?” Midi asked.
“No one was hurt. The surprise attack went perfectly. The Morning Star Mercenary Corps is unharmed,” Odel answered firmly, though a smile tugged at her lips.
This boy was different from the “top-tier” mercenary leaders. He didn’t ask about victory or spoils—his first concern was for his comrades. Ruthless in battle yet unexpectedly kind…
Odel’s thoughts drifted until Midi’s next question snapped her back. “Anything else?”
She straightened, reciting crisply, “Sixty-seven captives rescued. Twelve emerald leaves, two logs, four marked maps. Spoils include 16,500 gold coins, sixty weapons, thirty relics, twenty elven treasures. Need the list?”
“No…” Midi blinked.
He’d fought barely forty opponents before the Blood Blade troops broke. Capturing the two leaders took little time. Yet in that span, Odel had raided their base, managed prisoners, hosted guests, *and* tallied every scrap of loot. Her efficiency stunned him.
The Morning Star Mercenary Corps’ past rise wasn’t just due to the Palace’s heritage. Even without it, Odel could’ve forged them into elites.
Nearby, the eavesdropping mercenary leaders gaped. Since when did the fiercely independent “dual pistols” act so… obedient? That tone, that deference—was this the same woman who scorned men? She seemed like some noble’s dutiful maid, all soft glances and unspoken intimacy!
How long had this mysterious expert been around to tame her so completely? Their stares at Midi turned envious, admiring, tinged with rivalry.
Unaware, Midi praised, “Your records will aid our next steps.”
“Without you clearing the guards, I’d have nothing to count,” Odel replied, pleased by his approval.
He nodded. “The Blood Blade base must have hidden vaults. And we’ll need their intel.” He eyed the captives. “Their demon gods are gone. Start with them.”
Odel summoned their interrogator, who hauled the prisoners away. Only then did Midi turn to the waiting leaders.
The Blood Blade base had effectively changed hands and was now to be renamed the Morning Star base.
Midi stood as the master, while the five mercenary corps remained guests.
A host busying himself with tasks while ignoring his guests was undeniably rude—a deliberate slight.
Yet the leaders of the five mercenary corps waited with remarkable patience, neither protesting nor complaining. They stood silently until Midi and Odel finished their preparations, only then approaching.
This signaled their recognition of Midi’s power. Their tactful demeanor pleased him, sparing him further time wasted in Tucker Town.
“Apologies for the delayed introduction,” Midi said calmly, studying the five men. “I’m John of the Hawk Brigade.”
A simple statement, yet it carried an unexpected gravity.
Even a lone adventurer of great strength might adopt a guarded tone when facing five mercenary corps—confidence, wariness, or forced politeness. After all, *a strong dragon doesn’t crush the local serpent*. Yet this unassuming youth seemed utterly at ease in this one-sided dialogue.
His calm tone, steady gaze, and relaxed yet flawless posture exuded the ease of a superior addressing subordinates.
The leaders stiffened instinctively, their postures straightening as if under inspection.
“The Hawk Brigade is newly formed,” Midi continued, smiling faintly. “We’ll grow acquainted in time, but the present matters. With Blood Blade Mercenary Corps crushed by our joint attack, restoring order in Tucker Town is paramount. Your thoughts?”
The leaders exchanged glances, surprise flickering in their eyes.
*Why jump straight into negotiations?* They’d come to size up the expert who’d shattered Blood Blade’s gates—to test and assess. Yet here he was, seizing the initiative effortlessly.
*Since when did he hold all the authority?*
Silence lingered briefly before the grim dual-wielding swordsman spoke first.
“Elaborate on this ‘order,’ Mr. John.”
His Mountain Wolf Mercenary Group excelled in strategy and noble dealings. Though not their negotiator, he knew early questions could shift control.
Midi answered without pause: “Adventurers compete by skill, not violence or theft.”
Though rooted in nobility now, Midi had lived decades as an adventurer. True adventure meant claiming treasures first—stealing them was mere banditry.
His push for “competition” over conflict wasn’t moral posturing. It aimed to cripple Blood Blade further—and rope the five corps into doing it.
The leaders grasped this instantly.
The Iron Blood Mercenary Corps’ vice-leader stroked his beard, eyes narrowing. “I’ve no love for Blood Blade’s lawless pups, but dragging my men into faction wars? Unacceptable.”
“And you *do* know who backs Blood Blade, yes?” the swordsman added coldly.
Opposition and suspicion chilled the air.
