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墨書 Inktalez
Redman, who usually had a bit of a cleanliness obsession, found himself without the heart to refuse as he took the water pouch and drank it all in one go. Just as he set it down, he noticed John gnawing on some jerky he had somehow procured, offering him a piece as well.
"John, you truly are a chef. Even at a time like this, you have food—though it’s a bit tough," Redman remarked.
"Go ahead, young master. This will fill you up," John replied.
After quickly consuming several pieces of jerky and seemingly regaining his strength, John picked up the spear lying on the ground and helped Redman to his feet, leading him toward the Fortress. As for the corpses scattered on the ground, they were trophies of the nobility; now that the battle was over, who would dare to clean them up? Many in their ranks were nobles' property themselves, serfs belonging to the aristocracy.
John crawled out from the makeshift camp within Iron Will Fortress, surrounded by bloodstained armor. He stripped off his clothing, leaving only his shorts, and carried his armor outside the tent to wash it in the water.
"Captain, you're awake? Let me help you," Johnny said.
"Oh, it's you, Johnny," John replied as he handed over some water. He sat down on a nearby stone stool and curiously asked, "How is everyone doing?"
Johnny paused in his washing, looking down as he spoke. "Out of our squad of eighteen, only six are alive. That guy Joseph had his arm chopped off by an orc; the bleeding stopped but he's incapacitated now. As for the overall casualties in our team, I’m not sure. But your friend Lai Gen is in bad shape."
"What happened to Lai Gen? Is he dead?" John asked urgently. Despite Lai Gen's disheveled appearance, he was one of John's closest acquaintances in this world.
Johnny chuckled at the absurdity of it all before continuing. "He’s not dead, but it might be better if he were. When we returned, the Quartermaster searched everyone and wouldn’t allow anyone to keep any loot. Everything we managed to grab was taken away."
John quickly checked his money pouch hidden in his pants and sighed in relief when he found it still there. "You came back with Lord Redman; he specifically told the Quartermaster not to disturb you."
"Then what happened to Lai Gen?" John pressed on, eager to know more about his friend’s fate.
Johnny continued with a smirk. "To bring back some loot, Lai Gen stuffed things... well, let’s just say he hid them in an inappropriate place. I don’t know how the Quartermaster found out, but he used tongs to pull everything out from Lai Gen’s backside."
"To punish Lai Gen," Johnny added with a grin, "the Quartermaster used a whip to strike him right where he hid everything."
It took John a few moments to fully grasp what Johnny meant by that specific location. "That must have been excruciating!"
Whether it was good or bad, John couldn't tell. All he knew was that not long ago, they had to help Lai Gen to the restroom, and when they did, blood came pouring out.
Listening to Johnny's account, John could already visualize the scene. It seemed that in the future, Lai Gen would have to deal with a lot more than just discomfort; he would have to face the fear of large bowel movements.
In the following days, the upper-class nobles became increasingly frantic. The beastmen had been pushed back, and the land they could reclaim was rich with resources. Everyone wanted to go to these prosperous areas, eager to seize a piece of unclaimed territory. Although there were still many beastmen troops stationed there, the potential rewards were even greater.
In the face of such temptation, everything else could be sacrificed. The heated arguments among the nobles echoed through the meeting hall, leaving the soldiers guarding it with ringing ears.
While the upper echelons were busy, John was not idle either. After their discussions, the nobles began gathering for feasts. Even during heated arguments, they would threaten to devour one another; knives were drawn, yet it didn't stop them from dining together.
For a moment, John felt as if they hadn't been on the brink of war at all; every day was filled with ten dishes and two soups, seasoned with salt instead of spicy peppers.
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