It was too late for regrets. Yan Xing currently had only one prestige point, and a failed mission would deduct one hundred.
A Lord’s prestige was crucial for territorial development. With a bad reputation, who would seek to join him in the future?
Of course, if it were truly a suicide mission, Yan Xing wouldn’t fret over the gain or loss of personal prestige.
It was better to first understand the specifics.
Only by knowing the enemy and oneself could a decision be made whether to attempt a rescue.
"Rescue doesn’t happen in an instant. First, have some food, drink some warm soup... and then tell this Lord everything you’ve encountered," Yan Xing beckoned the old man and children into the campsite. He then instructed Gao Sipa, "Cook extra meat for the children. They’re so skinny from hunger, all skin and bones."
Regardless of whether the farmers captured by the Werewolves could be saved, Yan Xing already considered this old man and two youngsters his own.
Seeing the trio so enfeebled by hunger, Yan Xing’s heart ached.
Fill their bellies first, then talk business.
"Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!" the old man repeatedly thanked Yan Xing, leading the two children towards the hot pot.
While Gao Sipa was ladling food from the pot, Eddie returned with a pitchfork and reported to Yan Xing, "Lord, there’s nothing else following us from the surroundings."
Only then did Yan Xing realize Eddie had been scouting the perimeter.
My vigilance is still too low!
Yan Xing silently reproached himself. At the same time, he felt that Eddie, a man of few words, might be a diamond in the rough.
When Yan Xing returned to the hot pot, the old man and children were voraciously devouring the piles of food on their plates. They were truly starving and had never tasted anything so delicious.
Indeed, a hearty stew like hot pot is beloved everywhere!
After the old man finished a plate of food, Yan Xing had Gao Sipa serve him more. Then, sitting beside him, Yan Xing began to inquire about their encounter with the Werewolf patrol.
The Werewolves of the Swamp Tribe were vastly different from the werewolves Yan Xing knew from movies and television.
Within the Swamp Tribe, Werewolves held a position analogous to that of farmers in human society; they were First Order beings of the Swamp Tribe.
But despite both being First Order creatures, their combat capabilities were worlds apart.
Humans, by having farmers as their First Order tax-paying populace, had consequently forfeited an entire foundational tier of military strength.
First Order beings of other races, though not weekly taxpayers like human farmers, were combat units from their inception, making their entire populations effectively soldiers.
It was a matter of give and take.
Werewolves weren’t considered a powerful race in this fantasy world. However, when it came to subduing farmers, a single Werewolf could easily trounce an entire group.
A ten-Werewolf patrol dealing with a dozen or so farmers in the hut was child’s play; they subdued them effortlessly.
The old man and children had fortunately escaped because they weren’t in the hut at the time.
"Before dawn, the Werewolves will take my kin into the swamp," the old man pleaded again. "They lock up captured human farmers and collect taxes weekly. But humans aren’t suited to the swamp environment; they fall ill quickly and then die. Respected Lord, please, you must save my family!"
Yan Xing now understood the situation: the hut was to the north, approximately fifteen kilometers from his established campsite and about twenty kilometers from the swamp area.
This meant his campsite was about thirty-five kilometers from the edge of the swamp.
This distance was neither terribly far nor particularly close, but discovery by the Swamp Tribe was inevitable.
Therefore, avoiding conflict with the Swamp Tribe was the preferred strategy.
Then there was the matter of the patrol that had seized the hut: ten Werewolves in total.
Even though Werewolves were First Order swamp creatures, he couldn’t take them on directly with just a few farmers.
But it’s only ten Werewolves. With careful planning against an unsuspecting enemy, it shouldn’t be impossible to retake the hut and rescue the captured farmers.
As for the method? First, I should go see what the Werewolves look like and assess the terrain around the hut. Then I can make a plan.
"Are you full?" Yan Xing asked the old man. "Do you have a name?"
After finishing another plate of food and letting out a contented belch, the old man replied, "I’m full... Respected Lord, we lowly folk don’t have names."
Why don’t they have names again? When my territory expands, I’ll definitely appoint an official specifically to name these peasants.
Making a mental note, Yan Xing said to the old man, "This Lord will give you the name Lao Hansi... Now that you’re full, let’s get to work. We’ll find those Werewolves and reclaim my farmers and the hut."
Hearing that Lord Yan Xing intended to dispatch troops to rescue the hut and his family, Lao Hansi immediately stood up, supporting himself with his pitchfork. "I will lead you, my Lord, and your army to the hut right now!"
At that moment, a worried Gao Sipa said to Yan Xing, "My Lord, that’s ten Werewolves... Even though you are exceptionally brave, my Lord, that’s ten Werewolves!"
Gao Sipa repeatedly emphasized the presence of ten Werewolves at the hut, clearly lacking confidence in Yan Xing’s impending expedition.
Yan Xing declared with immense pride, "Only ten Werewolves! Even if there were a hundred, or a thousand, in my eyes, they are nothing but clay dogs and pottery chickens! Gao Sipa, you will remain to guard the camp, look after our belongings and the children. Prepare food for a dozen or so people and await our triumphant return. Lao Hansi and Eddie, take your weapons and follow me to battle! This time, I, your Lord, shall ride north alone! I vow not to return until the hut is reclaimed!"
The three adult farmers raised their pitchforks in unison, shouting, "Lord Yan Xing is mighty! Lord Yan Xing, your words shall be fulfilled!"
The two children, engrossed in their meal, chimed in unevenly, "Lord Yan Xing, your words shall be fulfilled!"
HA HA HA... The hero skills ’Rally the People’ and ’Inspire’ are really effective! Morale is sky-high!
Yan Xing waved his hand grandly. "To battle!"
Naturally, one couldn’t lead an army to war on foot.
So, Yan Xing fetched two folding stools, placed them in the cargo bed of the farm trike, and had Eddie and Lao Hansi sit on them.
Eddie refused, no matter what.
How could we lowly peasants dare to sit on the exotic beast the Lord just tamed?
Yan Xing kicked Eddie’s backside and roared, "In war, speed is paramount! Sit when I tell you to sit!"
Once Eddie had scrambled into the cargo bed, clutching his pitchfork and squatting on a stool, Yan Xing yanked Lao Hansi, who was still reverently kissing the trike’s tires, to his feet and tossed him in as well.
Yan Xing settled into the driver’s seat of the farm trike, hands on the handlebars, eyes fixed ahead.
The moon was high, the wind brisk, and a chilling killing intent permeated the surroundings.
He put on his helmet and turned the key; electric current flowed from the battery to the motor.
He released the handbrake, switched on the headlights, shifted into reverse, and slowly backed the trike out.
Then, signaling left, he shifted into a forward gear and turned the vehicle around.
Finally, hitting the accelerator, Yan Xing drove the farm trike, carrying his ’army,’ swiftly into the night.
Gao Sipa, leaning on his pitchfork and accompanied by the two children, gazed in the direction Lord Yan Xing had departed.
They remained there for a long, long time...