CHAPTER 467: CHAPTER 300: THE CONVOY RETURNS_2

"Help has indeed been given," Walter, ever the smooth merchant, readily agreed, offering praise. "That’s right. This journey would have been fraught with trouble without Tadiff’s assistance."

Lance observed the man before him with interest. He wore a Viking-style helmet that featured an eyepatch. A dark cloth extended from under its rim, covering his entire head and even his shoulders, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes. He was clad in heavy Scale Armor, an axe and grappling hook hanging at his waist, along with various packages and strange tools. He looked like a highly professional mercenary. The scratches on his armor plates and the strong, lingering stench of blood about him, difficult to wash away, both indicated he had recently seen battle.

As Lance examined him, Tadiff, in turn, sized up his employer’s boss.

"I recognize money, not people. Pay me, and I’ll do your work," Tadiff said, stepping closer and patting Lance’s chest. "But remember, I won’t let you off even one copper coin short."

Another Noble Lord might have found Tadiff’s behavior intolerable, but Lance didn’t mind his rather unrefined, streetwise manner of communication. Instead, he smiled reassuringly. "Don’t worry, you won’t be short of money."

He then turned to Walter. "This journey wasn’t very peaceful, was it?"

After a moment’s hesitation, Walter steeled himself. "We ran into quite a few problems on this trip. Two soldiers died in battle, and several others were injured."

Lance fell silent upon hearing this but showed no anger. His gaze merely rested on the soldiers accompanying the caravan, and he sighed. "Don’t be afraid. You’re home now..."

Tadiff found Lance’s reaction peculiar. After all, it was just two deaths. In the Guard business, death is as common as eating. Why would the boss react like this?

Designated personnel naturally took care of the caravan’s reception and inventory, while Lance engaged Walter in an in-depth discussion about the trip. The Empire’s wars had intensified, even spreading to the Northern Territory. War inevitably led to a more troubling issue: famine. Previously, there were refugees fleeing famine; now, they were fleeing war.

It had to be said that Lance’s earlier investment in food had been absolutely correct. This foresight had allowed Walter to acquire more food more easily later on. Indeed, this caravan’s cargo consisted largely of food supplies.

When the rapid expansion of the caravan was mentioned, Walter explained, "The outside world is becoming increasingly chaotic. Many small merchant caravans simply cannot continue under these conditions, so I stepped in to take over their caravans and some of their people. Even though they were struggling with losses and I initially offered lower prices, I ultimately raised them a bit. Given the larger scale, it cost a considerable sum, but with the situation outside, I couldn’t consult with you, My Lord, in time."

Walter was actually somewhat concerned Lance might disapprove, as not everyone would understand such a decision, so he elaborated, "The money wasn’t just for the merchant caravans themselves but for their experience and their routes. Every single one, even the most insignificant-looking caravan, has its own channels."

"Don’t be nervous; you did very well," Lance said, raising a hand reassuringly and smiling. "You can’t consult me about everything when you’re out there. Handle matters as you see fit. I trust you."

Lance’s perspective naturally wasn’t limited to short-term monetary gains or losses. Walter’s willingness to take over these caravans at fair prices demonstrated great wisdom. This not only preserved many people’s livelihoods but also effectively bought their loyalty. If other merchant groups struggled, they would undoubtedly turn to Walter first. If loyalty could be bought with money, it was the simplest transaction. Money lost can be earned again, but trust and loyalty, once gone, are hard to regain.

When operating away from one’s base, the last thing one wants is the boss’s suspicion. Having navigated the world for so many years and built his business from scratch, Walter naturally understood how precious such trust was.

"My Lord, these are the trade routes I’ve collected. They cover numerous paths..." Walter produced a sheepskin parchment. Drawn on it were the routes acquired from the merchant groups, marked with the various human settlements within Hamlet’s territory and their local specialties. Also marked were some dangerous areas—routes charted at the cost of human lives, with the information being current.

"Excellent, excellent!" Lance exclaimed, holding the Map as if it were a priceless treasure, an irrepressible smile on his face. This Map alone was worth a fortune, not to mention the acquisition of the caravans themselves. This money was well spent, incredibly so!

"Speak. What do you desire?" Lance put down the Map and looked at Walter. He was never stingy with his own capable people; they only had to ask.

"Too many robbers and bandits are appearing on the roads, My Lord; there are even some deserters forming marauding gangs. To operate the caravans normally, these menaces must be eradicated. If it weren’t for Tadiff on this trip, our return likely wouldn’t have been so smooth."

Lance found it noteworthy that Walter hadn’t mentioned any personal requests, instead focusing on the problems currently facing the merchant group. Lance had also seen these enemies marked on the Map. Places he had previously cleared were now occupied by bandits who had sprung up from goodness knows where. Furthermore, the Map indicated that some small villages had been massacred, vanishing forever.

Without much hesitation, Lance agreed. The extensive development needed more Serfs, and he believed labor would reform these bandits. "I will send troops to exterminate the bandits. With the Map, finding them will be simple. However, all soldiers currently with the caravan will be reintegrated into the army’s command structure. But don’t worry; I’ll provide you with a group of trained men to form your own Guard unit."

Dispatching soldiers to protect the caravan had previously been a measure of necessity. The military should not be involved in commercial activities; its sole mission was to follow his commands. The Guards Lance had in mind for Walter included soldiers who had previously withdrawn due to family entanglements, as well as some individuals from administrative positions. Lance hadn’t forgotten these men. He had been observing them, intending to reinstate them when the time was right. Now was that time.

"What’s the story with that Bounty Hunter, Tadiff?"

"Tadiff is somewhat well-known in Ovando," Walter began. "He grew up on the streets as a gang enforcer who valued loyalty. However, he was betrayed by his gang leader, made a scapegoat, and arrested. After that, he resolved to care only for money, not people. I sensed the situation was becoming unstable and knew we’d need stronger Guards, so I pulled some strings to bail him out. Tadiff takes money for his work, and he does it impeccably. The caravan’s safe return is largely thanks to his protection."

"A man like that is worth keeping. You also need a personal Guard, Walter, with things so chaotic out there." Lance understood Tadiff’s background but wasn’t particularly concerned by it. A mere enforcer is of little significance to me, but Walter certainly needs one.

But upon hearing this, Walter chuckled wryly and shook his head, explaining, "The very night he was released, he slaughtered that gang. Their leader was killed by his hand. Those types always have backers. With the current tense situation, Tadiff is now wanted throughout Ovando. If I hadn’t provided cover for him, he couldn’t have even left the city, let alone think of returning."

This man is indeed interesting. Lance appreciated that kind of character—never holding a grudge overnight because he settled it on the spot.

"Regardless, you still need to be vigilant about your own security, Walter. If there’s trouble and goods are lost, my army will retrieve them. But you must not come to harm. Otherwise, how would I explain it to Tiffany?"

"Yes, My Lord."

At the mention of his daughter, Walter couldn’t suppress a pang of homesickness. After briefly updating Lance on a few matters, he quickly departed.

He hadn’t even reached the door when he saw Tiffany waiting outside.

"Father!"

Walter asked, "How have you been lately? The Lord hasn’t been troubling you and your mother, has he?"

"No," Tiffany said, taking her father’s arm and starting to grumble, "that fellow only shows up if you go looking for him, and it’s always about work." She sounded somewhat dissatisfied.