Chapter 406: Hand It Over
After more than four hours of fierce battle, the dust finally settled. Though the Three Major Mercenary Companies were left battered and had lost some members, their spoils were considerable. Every magical material and magic crystal from the beasts was divided up among them.
Next came the period of recuperation at camp...
"Damn that Matthew Merlin! He actually dared to steal the Wyvern King's Blood—unforgivable!"
An elderly figure strode out from the Apocalypse Mercenary Company’s camp, muttering curses as he made his way toward the Templar Knights Mercenary Company’s encampment.
The Wyvern King's Blood was the magical material he had dreamed of acquiring. That night, when he heard Dalson mention the Wyvern King's appearance, he was on the verge of ecstatic. But after the excitement came a harsh reality check.
Every magical material from the Wyvern King had vanished without a trace!
Alaric was furious, nearly getting into a shouting match with Dalson.
Several days had passed, but Alaric was still brooding over the matter. The incident had even caused friction between him and Dalson, the First Vice Captain— all because of the Wyvern King's Blood.
Today, he accidentally learned that it was a Second-Tier Mage who had stolen the Wyvern King's Blood. The news left him both excited and enraged—excited because he finally knew where the Wyvern King's Blood had gone, enraged because, damn it, even a low-tier mage dared to lay hands on his prize!
He was so distracted by thoughts of the Wyvern King's Blood during the afternoon battle that he even suffered a minor injury...
Once the battlefield was cleared and the camp settled, he rushed to the Templar Knights Mercenary Company's camp, determined to find that bastard Leon Merlin and reclaim his Wyvern King's Blood. If Leon Merlin had any sense and handed it over, maybe Alaric would spare his life.
"Alaric, what brings you here?"
Alaric had just arrived at the Templar Knights Mercenary Company's camp when a familiar voice called out to him. He turned and saw Dean, the First Vice Captain of the Templar Knights.
"I'm here to find someone..."
"Looking for someone? You came to the Templar Knights Mercenary Company's camp to find someone? Who exactly?" Dean immediately grew wary, his smile turning cold. He could tell Alaric was up to no good, especially with that faint, chilling aura about him.
Though the Three Major Mercenary Companies had joined forces to advance into the Turin Mountains, their alliance was purely for profit. If Alaric wanted to cause trouble for someone in the Templar Knights Mercenary Company, Dean would be the first to object.
Alaric was nearly trembling with rage. "Dean, I suggest you stay out of this. Leon Merlin isn't one of your people. I'm here to take back what's rightfully mine!"
"Wait, wait... Alaric, are you talking about Matthew Merlin?" Dean's face lit up in surprise, nearly laughing. He’d just heard from Yama that the Darkflame Orc’s mage friend had been brought to camp. Earlier, he’d been racking his brain for a way to get rid of that damn Matthew Merlin...
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't find a good solution. Matthew Merlin was a friend of the Darkflame Orcs, and if he just kicked Matthew out, the Darkflame Orcs would surely be displeased.
If that happened, would the Darkflame Orcs still stay with the Templar Knights Mercenary Company?
Just as he was thinking this, Alaric showed up. When Alaric mentioned Matthew Merlin's name, Dean knew for sure: Matthew Merlin was in for it now...
Dean knew Alaric's temper—he was even more hot-headed than Dean himself.
"What, you know Leon Merlin?" Alaric glared at Dean, his rage barely contained. "Let me be clear: I won't let Leon Merlin off the hook... Do you know what that bastard did? He... he actually stole the Wyvern King's Blood! Do you expect me to tolerate that? Such a precious magical material, in the hands of someone like him—it's an insult to alchemy itself!"
"Uh, Alaric..."
"Dean, are you trying to plead for Matthew Merlin?" Alaric's tone was calm, his voice icy and devoid of emotion. Just that sentence alone sent a chill down the spine of Dean, a Sword Saint.
"Alaric, don't get the wrong idea... What I mean is, Matthew Merlin is just a young man. Everyone makes mistakes in the heat of the moment; it's not unforgivable. Look, Matthew Merlin is a guest of our Templar Knights Mercenary Company. Once you get your Wyvern King's Blood back, feel free to teach him a lesson—just do me a favor and don't go overboard..."
At that moment, Dean's face was full of schadenfreude, his expression animated and gleeful. He didn't look like he was pleading for Leon Merlin at all; it was as if he was telling Alaric, "Go ahead and beat that bastard Leon Merlin to death." "Or, you know... just break both his legs?"
...
Alaric gave Dean a strange look but said nothing. The two stopped in front of a barrack; Dean stayed outside while Alaric went in alone.
"Matthew Merlin..."
Title Mage!
The arrival of this uninvited guest made Leon Merlin frown. He was a gaunt old man, probably in his seventies, radiating a chilling aura. Judging by his magical fluctuations, he was likely a Second-Tier Title Archmage...
"You're Leon Merlin?" After entering the barrack, Alaric saw four young mages and an orc. But he'd seen Orson's water magic recordings and recognized Leon Merlin at a glance.
"Yes, may I ask who you are...?"
"I'm Orson's teacher, and also the Vice Captain of the Apocalypse Mercenary Company—Alaric."
"Lord Alaric, is there something I can help you with...?"
"Leon Merlin, don't play dumb!" In a flash, Alaric pointed at Leon Merlin, his rage boiling over. "Orson told me everything. You've got some nerve, stealing the Apocalypse Mercenary Company's spoils! Leon Merlin, I'm giving you one chance—hand over the Wyvern King's Blood..."
Matthew Merlin really doesn’t know what’s good for him...
Even after I spelled it out so clearly, he's still pretending not to understand.
Looks like breaking both his legs would be far too lenient...
The atmosphere in the barrack suddenly grew strange. The Dragonblood Orc and the three Merlin brothers exchanged glances, all looking rather odd. The Dragonblood Orc, in particular, stared at Alaric in horror.
Is this old man trying to get himself killed...?
Do you really think you can take advantage of Lord Merlin's generosity?
Damn, even Lord Xiu Ban has followed Lord Merlin for so long and never managed to get the better of him. And here you are, an old man, instead of enjoying your twilight years at home, jumping around in front of Lord Merlin—you're just asking for trouble!
Your disciple Orson likes to court death, and you, his teacher, are just the same... Damn! Do the people in the Apocalypse Mercenary Company know how suicidal you two are?
"Lord Alaric, well..." Leon Merlin hesitated, glancing at Alaric before saying, "The Wyvern King's Blood—I'm afraid I can't hand it over. But I do have a Wyvern King's Hide left. How about I sell it to you instead?"
"My lord, you promised to make me a set of leather armor..." The Dragonblood Orc looked at Leon Merlin with a hint of grievance, quietly reminding him from the side.
"Oh... I almost forgot." Leon Merlin patted his head, then looked at Alaric with some difficulty. "Aside from that set of armor, there might be some leftover. How about this, Lord Alaric—there's probably enough hide to make a pair of boots. Interested?"
Boots?
Alaric nearly coughed up blood from rage. He really wanted to ask Matthew Merlin if he could understand plain language... Damn it, what the hell would I want boots for!
What I want is the Wyvern King's Blood!
Can't hand over the Wyvern King's Blood? How could that be? That bastard Matthew Merlin couldn't have possibly drunk it, could he? Even if he did, he'd better cough it up for me...
"Leon Merlin, quit with your pathetic tricks... Do you really think that, just because we're in the Templar Knights Mercenary Company's camp, I can't do anything to you?" Alaric looked at Leon Merlin with utter contempt.
This young man is truly ignorant.
If only he knew that Dean, the Vice Captain of the Templar Knights Mercenary Company, had already backed down and was waiting outside, refusing to intervene—he'd probably burst into tears on the spot.
Faced with the wrath of a Title Mage, a mere Second-Tier Mage would either be scared senseless or scared to tears...
"This is your last chance. If you don't cherish it and hand over the Wyvern King's Blood right now, I don't care where we are—in ten seconds, you'll be a cold corpse..."
"Um... Lord Alaric, may I say something?"
Leon Merlin struggled internally for a long time, feeling that if he didn’t speak up soon, the misunderstanding would only get worse. In truth, whether it was Orson or Alaric, Leon Merlin couldn’t care less about their fate.
But he knew what Marfa the Cousin was capable of—he was the kind of ruthless character who’d even kill family elders. Why did Marfa the Cousin kill elders from the family?
Wasn’t it because those elders tried to steal Marfa the Cousin’s Gilded Rose...?
The Wyvern King was slain by Marfa the Cousin, so taking what he deserved only to be accused by Alaric of stealing the Apocalypse Mercenary Company’s spoils—how ridiculous...
If Alaric wanted to snatch things by force, he'd end up just like Lurgan and the other elders sooner or later.
That’s exactly what Leon Merlin worried about—would the Apocalypse Mercenary Company break with the Merlin Family over a vice captain? If that really happened, it’d be a disaster. After all, they’re the top mercenary force in Oakland...
Thinking of this, Leon Merlin broke out in a cold sweat.
"Shut up!"
Alaric glanced coldly at the speaker. "Leon Merlin, do you think you can interrupt me while I’m talking? Even your Merlin Family’s patriarch, Hofland, wouldn’t dare cut in when I’m speaking..."