PS. Tomorrow, I’m taking a leave on New Year’s Day. Please understand.
PS2. Wishing all the friends reading this book a happy New Year’s Eve!
The combat strength of a mercenary corps is generally distinguished by comparing it to a regular army.
When a mercenary corps’s combat strength exceeds that of a standard Count’s domain army (a standard Count’s domain can mobilize a maximum of sixty knights, five hundred cavalry, and fifteen hundred swordsmen or archers as standing army troops; temporarily conscripted spearmen and peasant soldiers are not included), it is generally referred to as a mercenary army.
Such mercenary armies won’t appear in a place like Nord; this kind of remote area can’t afford powerful mercenary armies, and neither do the Empire and Brittania need them because they have much more powerful knight corps as standing forces.
It’s only in Marinburg or the Southern Realm where mercenary armies can thrive, like Marinburg’s Iris Guard, which comprises over six thousand cavalry and more than ten thousand infantry, serving as the primary force guarding Marinburg.
It’s important to note that knights shouldn’t be confused with cavalry; a knight is a rank, a title, and more importantly, a guarantee of combat strength, while cavalry is just a generic term for soldiers who fight on horseback.
A standard knight unit includes several mounted escorts or even apprentice knights, as well as many knight’s squires.
"Of course, it’s incomparable," Estelle laughed indifferently; the half-elf was someone who had seen the big picture. "A place like Nord wouldn’t have mercenary corps of that level, Mr. Laine."
Oliver noticed that Laine was quite interested in the Gray Blade Mercenary Corps. "Is Mr. Laine interested in Billger’s affairs?"
"’Gray Blade’ Billger is indeed quite famous," Laine thought as he rode on his horse.
The Blood Axe Mercenary Corps suffered heavy losses; saying Teresa brought disaster to this ordinary mercenary corps wouldn’t be an exaggeration. Boris’s injuries haven’t fully healed even so far—Laine even doubted whether they could ever fully heal.
With Boris out of action, Vice Captain Viert had to shoulder heavy responsibilities. A mercenary corps with only one Elite Tier compared to one with the support of two Elite Tiers is a completely different concept, especially after the mercenary corps had suffered heavy losses in battles with the Beastmen.
Teresa was oblivious to this, but Laine knew that the Blood Axe Mercenary Corps couldn’t be relied upon anymore. If he were to head south, he had to consider the combat strength of Gray Blade.
Strong as he was, he was still just one person. The Empire once had an extremely powerful knight who relied on his formidable strength, imposing a total of twenty-eight complex tax rules in his knight’s manor, forcing the farmers into destitution.
The outcome was that this powerful knight was stormed into his residence by the farmers, then tied to a scarecrow in the fields and set ablaze until he turned into a charred corpse.
Was this knight not powerful enough? Was he ambushed?
No, this knight was indeed strong and alone held off dozens of mobsters at the door.
But everyone tires eventually; even if a hundred unresisting pigs were placed in front of this knight for him to slaughter, by the end, he would likely be exhausted.
Laine was determined to prevent such a scenario from happening. He wasn’t invincible, nor was he immune to fatigue. He, too, was human.
As events moved along, they arrived at the banquet’s location.
The night banquet was held inside Villarld’s lord’s longhouse. It was already completely dark outside. The two-story high lord’s longhouse’s doors were wide open. Torches along the road lit up the snow-covered path. Several well-trained guards guarded the entrance, and a whole roast lamb was hung over the adjacent bonfire, with golden grease dripping into the fire and sparks flying.
The aroma was quite pleasing~ Laine noticed that one of the guards swallowed a mouthful of saliva looking at the succulent lamb meat, causing him to burst into laughter.
This laugh immediately caught the guard’s attention: "Good evening, Mr. Laine! Please come in! The lord is already waiting for you inside!"
"Good evening~" Laine handed over the reins of his horse, Pinecone, to a guard, and swaggered inside.
Oliver and the others wanted to follow him in but were immediately stopped by an icy long halberd blocking their way: "Sir, please present your invitation!"
A trace of anger flashed across Oliver’s chubby face, but he quickly put on a standard commercial smile and pulled a note stamped with the lord’s ring seal from his white bear skin coat, handing it to the guard: "Alright, sir."
The invitation was quite valuable and had cost Oliver some effort.
The guard’s previous respectful demeanor vanished, replaced by an arrogant and rude expression. After confirming the ring seal, he returned the invitation to Oliver: "Keep your hands clean, you profiteer, and don’t cause trouble inside, or my long halberd won’t hesitate to taste your blood!"
"Alright, you can go in now!"
Estelle instinctively tightened his fist, but Mats noticed and patted his shoulder, shaking his head.
Laine was unaware of what happened afterward. As he entered the longhouse, he found it already filled with people. The spacious wooden table was laden with food, ranging from simple bread and stews to roast chicken and some rare fruits. Servants continually brought out various dishes with iron utensils. The guests sat on long wooden benches, drinking barley beer from earthen cups and mugs, enjoying themselves immensely.
"To the victory of the docks!"
"To the prosperity of Kaltenhaven!"