Chapter 48: Tebili Stopped Thinking

The Igor Family set up a temporary camp in a forest far from Nelumbo Avenue.

Following the sudden turn of events, Master Laurie uncharacteristically parted with his precious stash. He generously took out a batch of Magic Materials scavenged from Adrian’s Laboratory, carved Demon Seals at the four corners of the camp, and set up a simple Lafusia Exorcism Barrier. The function of this Spirit Element Spiritual Barrier Array was very simple: anyone attempting to approach the barrier from the outside, provided their Magic Resistance wasn’t strong enough, would be subconsciously driven to steer clear of the area. The master was genuinely afraid that the raiding Mercenaries still had reserves and backup plans. To guard against a potential second ambush, he specifically added a magical double insurance to the already hidden camp in the woods.

The casualties of this sudden raid were also buried in the forest following a somewhat hasty funeral. Given the caravan’s conditions, it was ultimately too difficult to travel with corpses in tow. Therefore, the people of the Igor Territory who had suffered injuries too severe to be resurrected could only sleep eternally in this distant, foreign land.

After Xiahou Yan led a few core members of the Igor Family in personally shoveling dirt over the graves of the deceased, he heard a long-awaited piece of news from Clement.

"Lord Eliot, I’ve already tied up that surviving mercenary scum in your tent."

Xiahou Yan wiped his hands with a handkerchief while shooting a meaningful glance at Master Laurie. The master understood immediately and hauled out a heavy wooden crate from some unknown corner. Clement felt that the master’s sneer, much like the crate itself, emanated a dangerous aura. The Lord took the wooden crate from the master and repeatedly instructed his subordinates.

"Remember, no one is allowed near my tent!"

Everyone naturally accepted the order with pleasure. After all, following a bloody battle, no one wanted to endure any further psychological stimulation.

Jose Tebili, the vice commander of the "Desolate Wind" Mercenary Corps, was firmly bound to a chair with thick, oil-soaked hemp ropes, looking thoroughly haggard. This seasoned veteran, who had once dominated the southern Wilderness and left trails of corpses in his wake, had been the second-in-command of the Mercenary Corps whose every word was law. He was once an esteemed guest of the Houston Duke, and the nightmare of commoners, the kind of boogeyman that stopped children from crying in the night. But now, he slumped despondently in the chair like a defeated rooster, all fighting spirit utterly drained from his eyes.

The heavy blow from Clement’s Rune Longsword shouldn’t have reduced him to this state—when Vice Commander Tebili was seventeen, he had suffered injuries on the battlefield far more severe than this! Yet back then, he had still managed to clutch his intestines that were nearly spilling out of his wound and dealt a fatal blow to that Half-beastman sergeant! He had still crawled out of the bloody meat grinder of the eastern front lines all by himself, leaving countless enemies and comrades behind! Jose Tebili, who had fought alone across thousands of miles over the past forty years, was most familiar with the scent of blood! The blood of enemies, the blood of allies, and his own blood! But at this moment, what truly made his soul tremble was not the physical pain, but the bitter taste of defeat.

Upon slowly waking up, the first thing he saw was the headless corpses of his sixty trusted cavalrymen, their severed heads stacked in a pyramid! The visual impact of this scene was simply too overwhelming. Vice Commander Tebili hadn’t even offered a shred of resistance, allowing that dark, tin-can of a Heavy Armor Warrior to tie him up. It wasn’t until he was bound inside this tent that Vice Commander Tebili’s sluggish mind finally accepted the reality of his defeat.

However, accepting it didn’t mean he could understand it. Vice Commander Tebili couldn’t comprehend how he had lost, even in his wildest dreams. He couldn’t figure out why a massed charge of sixty-one Lance Cavalry had failed to completely crush the spirit of this group. He couldn’t figure out why the "Desolate Wind" cavalry, which could effortlessly route five hundred soldiers of the Imperial Regular Army, had hit a brick wall against a migrating caravan filled with the old, weak, and sick. He especially couldn’t figure out why an unassuming caravan would suddenly produce a Heavy Armor Warrior capable of routing an entire army! If Jose Tebili hadn’t been knocked unconscious by Clement earlier and had witnessed the defeat of his cavalry firsthand, he would have been even more baffled. He wouldn’t have understood why there was also a female Swordsman with exquisite Martial Arts who moved with the fluid grace of a swimming dragon to silently slaughter men in an instant, or why there was an Elder Mage who effortlessly played forty elite Mercenaries like fools in the palm of his hand! Jose Tebili simply could not understand this outcome.

Yet decades of a blood-soaked career had thoroughly forged Vice Commander Tebili’s calm disposition. Although the shadow of defeat lingered, Jose Tebili’s clever brain began to process the situation. He wasn’t dead yet. Even though he was securely tied to a chair, even though he had been whipped dozens of times by a few lowlife Guards venting their anger, even though he was enduring a humiliation unlike any he had ever experienced in his entire life... he was still alive. When these bastards from the Igor Family realized Tebili wasn’t dead, they could have easily chopped off his head. But they didn’t. Instead, they spared his miserable life and let him live up to this moment. And as long as he was alive, there was hope.

Jose Tebili narrowed his eyes. He knew with absolute certainty that the leader here was the young Lord named Eliot Igor. Earlier, while being escorted through the camp by that tin-can of a man, he had caught a glimpse of that boy out of the corner of his eye—a youth with a head full of black hair and a face that was far too young. And Jose Tebili understood exactly what kind of people these Imperial nobles were. They were a bunch of orphaned scum who would sell their own mothers to a brothel for petty profits! They were villains who would sell their souls to a Demon just to climb the ranks of nobility! They were thugs who would sacrifice commoners to enemy forces just to ensure their own safety! Yes, Vice Commander Tebili knew that the raid he led had undoubtedly inflicted severe damage on this young noble named Eliot Igor, and the other party probably hated his guts. But he was confident that as long as he offered an enticing enough price, he could exploit the young man’s greed to secure a lifeline for himself. After all, this young Lord hadn’t killed him yet, had he?

Jose Tebili began to carefully calculate his chips like the most seasoned gambler, wondering what he could offer this little bastard named Eliot in exchange for his own life. Money? Yes, the Igor Family was definitely short on funds right now, and he knew where the grand commander of the "Desolate Wind" hid his treasury. Women? Yes, young men loved that sort of thing. He wondered if those young nuns from the "Holy Mother Flower" would suit his tastes. They would probably do nicely; at the very least, their prayers sounded wonderful when they were screaming in bed. Revenge? Perhaps Eliot Igor wasn’t willing to suffer losses for nothing and might want to know the mastermind behind the whole affair. That was fine. He could easily reveal the Houston Duke’s involvement, sending the boy off to march to his death at the Duke’s hands. Or perhaps there was other valuable intelligence?

While Vice Commander Tebili was still weighing the value he could offer from his chair, he suddenly felt a light breeze brush against his face. The tent flap was lifted. The Black-Haired Lord that Vice Commander Tebili had just been scheming about strolled into the tent, carrying a wooden crate. The Lord set the wooden crate firmly on the ground, then drew out a cast-iron crowbar from inside. With an indifferent expression, he turned toward Vice Commander Tebili, who was securely bound to the chair. Jose Tebili licked his lips, preparing to state the proposal he would use to trade for his miserable life.

However, the first sentence the other party coldly spoke almost caused Tebili’s mind to collapse.

"Mr. Mercenary, I apologize for keeping you waiting until now, but I genuinely couldn’t resist the urge to experience the sensation of torturing you to death with my own two hands."