Chapter 66 - Crisis and Trade

After a while,A strange, foul stench persisted inside the tent, and outside, sounds of retching continued unabated.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

“Water! Give me water! Quickly, give me water!”

The people inside the tent couldn’t help but shudder at the sound, feeling a chill run down their spines. They reminded themselves that if they ever inadvertently found themselves in such a situation, they should find a way to die quickly.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”

The retching outside continued for a long time before it stopped, followed by the sound of cold water being poured.

After a moment, Earl Vick, having finished vomiting and been cleaned up, was dragged into the tent by soldiers. Because he had been doused with water, his entire body was wet, and with the temperature so low on this deep autumn night, Earl Vick was shivering terribly, his lips turning slightly blue. His face was exceedingly pale with an expression full of malice—not from the cold, but from anger.

Earl Vick glared fiercely at Richard, who met his gaze with calm eyes. Vick then looked at Gro, who had a cold smirk of revenge on his face. Turning to Bill Caesar, Vick felt completely baffled because Bill had only suggested combining all methods to avoid arguments, which had little to do with him.

“You! You are despicable!” Earl Vick exclaimed uncontrollably, regretting that he had indulged in comfort in recent years and neglected his training, which left him weaker than a younger noble. But even more regrettable was his failure to read some books and memorize some ballads, which left him at a loss for words to express his feelings at that moment, except to exclaim how detestable it all was.

Could his ordeal truly be summed up with the words “too detestable”?

Absolutely not! It wasn’t just detestable; it was truly abhorrent!

Gro, uninterested in sympathizing with Earl Vick’s feelings, bluntly asked, “Vick, you mentioned you had plans earlier, saying I would surely die tonight? Why? What were your plans?”

“Hmph.” Earl Vick pursed his lips, unwilling to answer.

Gro arched his eyebrows and said unapologetically, “What, do you want another bout of induces vomiting?”

Earl Vick’s body shook violently, his face turning a shade of purple as he glared at Gro. His lips quivered for a long time, and he squeezed the words through his teeth, “You’re ruthless!”

Under the threat of further induced vomiting, Earl Vick confessed. He disclosed that in addition to his assassination plot, there would be an army approaching to encircle and kill Gro and all the Nobles. The approaching force numbered in the hundreds, a multiple of their current troop size.

This army was acting on the orders of some other unknown Great Noble, so Vick couldn’t stop them. If the camp stood its ground, they were one hundred percent guaranteed to face a fight to the death. If they decided to quickly flee the forest, there was over a ninety percent chance they would encounter the attacking army head-on, leading to an even swifter death.

If they truly wanted to survive, their only chance was to scatter and escape, avoiding the encircling army and the ferocious beasts of the night within the forest, possibly sparing their lives.

Upon hearing Earl Vick’s words, the Nobles erupted in uproar. Gro didn’t need to say a word before they started dragging Vick out to force feed him excrement, no—induce vomiting again.

If the earlier tactic was a means of coercion, now it simply served as a way to vent their rage.

What, an army was attacking? With a high chance of death for everyone involved? Fine, before we all die, you’re not going to have it easy either, after trying to harm the Prince and plotting to assassinate him. Even though the army wasn’t summoned by you, you knew and didn’t speak up. So, we might as well start with inducing some vomiting.

“Force his mouth open, pour it in!”

“You guys aren’t keeping your word… glug glug… you… glug glug… ugh… glug glug…”

Ultimately, Earl Vick was force-fed until he was half-dead from vomiting… Indeed, it was forceful.

Although everyone vented their frustrations, their worries didn’t diminish in the slightest. Knowing that an army several times their size was converging on them, the question remained: how would they deal with it?

Eyes flickering, everyone turned to look at Prince Gro.

Gro, his gaze flickering and somewhat flustered, couldn’t come up with any solutions and looked pleadingly at Richard.

“Lord Richard, do you have any ideas to help us escape this predicament?” Gro asked tentatively, in a soft voice.

Richard’s eyebrows raised slightly.

Frankly, there were quite a few options. The simplest one was to call Gregory in; not to mention an army only several times their number—the size of ten times their number would be a walkover.

Without relying on Gregory, if he could just provide Pandora with the right weapon, she could teach an army of a few hundred a lesson. However, total annihilation could pose a problem and there might even be injuries. After all, Pandora was still too young, and her strength hadn’t reached its peak. Facing numerous enemies, swinging tree trunks in an open field could be terrifying, but her combat effectiveness could be reduced in a forest. Additionally, soldiers are not wild beasts; they think and cooperate.

In that case, Richard could simply take action himself. There was no need for a massacre, nor to wipe out an entire army on his own. By employing some tactics to control the enemy’s emotions, he should be able to contain and scare the enemy, thereby enabling Prince Gro and his entourage to escape the crisis. As for what to do afterward—that would be Prince Gro’s problem. After all, Richard only wanted to ensure that Gro survived to complete the transaction, not to babysit them.

With these thoughts, Richard spoke to Gro, “Are there any scrolls and a Quill in the tent?”

“Ah?” Gro was momentarily startled, not understanding how this related to helping them escape, but since Richard had asked, he nodded, “Yes.”

He turned around, retrieved the items from a corner, and handed them to Richard.

Richard took them, swept the table clear of dinnerware and food, and spread out the Papyrus Scroll on the table. He dipped the Quill in Ink and began to write some text on the Papyrus Scroll.

Gro glanced over and saw that it was a list of materials, some of it even including silver forks, which seemed rather puzzling.

After a moment, Richard finished writing and handed the scroll to Gro, who couldn’t help but ask, “Lord Richard, what… what is this?”

“This is the bargaining condition.”

“Ah?!”

“You didn’t think I would intervene without a price, did you?” Richard said slowly, seriously looking at Gro, “Do you really think I’m helping you out of kindness? Or perhaps because of the ‘deep friendship’ we’ve established in just half a day? In truth, it’s only because we’ve finally reached a deal, and I don’t want you to die and cause the deal to fail.”

“Err…”

“Every contribution and return should be equivalent. Actually, I’ve already suffered some losses in the deal by saving you earlier, but in order to avoid even greater losses, I accepted it. Now, if you want me to help again, you will have to pay a price higher than the ten thousand pounds of iron we discussed earlier—hence the list of materials on the scroll.

Take a look, and if you agree, then the deal is on. If not, I can only wish you good luck. Oh, and just a friendly reminder, this deal isn’t just aimed at you alone—it involves everyone present. Thus, the materials will be shared by everyone here, not just borne by you alone, considering you’re not the only one threatened right now.”