Chapter 104: The Spring of Retribution

“Quick!” 

Mercenaries from Greg Mine sprinted with all their might. They had already seen the flames engulfing the Thirteenth Mercenary Group’s base from a distance and heard faint battle cries. There was no doubt, the two assault teams had already breached the base.

The infuriated mercenaries thought, “Those damn fools started half an hour early. Are they trying to hoard all the Dark Hand’s wealth for themselves?”

Although it was agreed to split the spoils evenly, everyone understood that those who strike first would reap more benefits. Comprising mainly of members from two major mercenary groups, the assault teams, if given the upper hand, were unlikely to share their loot with others.

“Who was the idiot who suggested staying further away to avoid detection by the Thirteenth Mercenary Group? If it weren’t for being nearly five miles away, we would have reached there by now!”

With thoughts of grabbing money and women overwhelming their minds, members of the smaller mercenary groups, upon sighting Orgrimmar’s walls, abandoned any strategy of energy conservation and sprinted at full speed toward the city.

Fools. Exhausted from running, how are they supposed to fight?

Despite this logic, seeing others gain distance compelled the rest to also hasten their pace.

Considering the fire’s intensity, the city seemed nearly destroyed, likely offering no resistance anymore. If they slowed down, all valuable items might burn, leaving nothing to gain.

“The city gate is open,” shouted a mercenary, his voice laced with excitement as he ran.

This meant they could avoid the hassle of scaling the walls. It was a welcome piece of news indeed. 

Yet, a few skeptics sensed something off. 

Despite the continuous din of battle cries, there was an eerie absence of people near the gate. These few, however, had no opportunity to voice their concerns. With most of their leaders part of the assault team, they were unsure who to approach with their doubts, and the momentum of the crowd inevitably pulled them inside.

Inside, the ground was strewn with corpses, numerous buildings ablaze. The watchtowers had been transformed into infernal torches, the heat so intense it almost curled their fur. Nonetheless, this couldn’t dampen their thirst for riches.

As they traced the source of the battle cries, someone discerned, “It’s near that largest building. That’s surely where the treasure is hidden. Hurry!”

They dashed toward the city’s heart, navigating streets already consumed by flames. It was at this juncture that more began to notice something amiss. The city was engulfed in flames, suggesting the assault teams had taken their rampage to an extreme. Was such a massive fire really necessary just for plunder and slaughter?

And why were they only hearing sounds without seeing any people?

“What’s that?!” 

In a reflex action, someone looked back to check their escape route, only to let out a scream at the sight that met their eyes.

Near the city gate, a gigantic, flaming entity was slowly rising from the nearby fires. Just as they screamed, the figure started collapsing, sealing off their way back.

“It’s a trap!” 

The realization hit them hard. 

Fireballs spun through the air, crashing into the crowd. Flames burst from under their feet in an instant, setting many of the mercenaries ablaze. Their screams of agony filled the air as others frantically tried to extinguish the flames on their companions, only to catch fire themselves.

“What do we do now?” 

More fireballs soared from behind the burning buildings, landing among the mercenaries, igniting even more people. Their screams echoed as they rolled on the ground, trying desperately to put out the flames, but to no avail.

The mercenaries descended into utter chaos.

This was supposed to be a straightforward raid for riches, yet how had it turned into such a disaster?

“Break out! Break out!” 

Deputy leaders of the mercenary groups yelled, but the surrounding buildings were ablaze, with no tools or water sources in sight. The beastfolk mercenaries lacked the courage to rush through the flames.

“Charge forward, fight them!” someone yelled in desperation.

But their hope turned to despair as a gigantic treant emerged at the end of the road, advancing towards them with heavy, thudding steps.

***

“What uncultured brutes!” Mylo Benstem stood on the highest building of the Greg Mines, his gaze fixed anxiously on the blazing fire in the western sky.

Such unmistakable flames showed that the mysterious of unknown origin bastard and his minions must have been reduced to ashes by now.

He smugly thought so, completely overlooking that he himself was only a half-elf. But why hadn’t these idiots sent anyone back with updates? How was the mission progressing? Had they captured that accursed man?

The uncertainty was agonizing.

Indeed, these filthy and foolish beings were not deserving of any expectations. Once he took over the Elmons Mines, he’d drive out all these mercenaries.

“My lord, this surely sets a precedent for those newcomers,” his foxman assistant said with sycophantic eagerness. “Who would dare to defy you now? Who would dare to disobey?”

Benstem merely ‘hmphed’ in response, disregarding his comment.

His orchestration of this affair was about more than just establishing rules for the new mercenary groups.

While other trading guilds might have had mere business disputes with Wu Qingsong, his grudge against Wu was deeply personal.

As the head of the Osaga Merchant Guild in the Esola Hills, his private venture opened under the guise of the Marquis Osaga’s name had been torn down by that despicable half-breed. It was a direct affront, a blow to his pride. Even more gallingly, the Marquis himself hadn’t defended him, his own man, but instead allowed that detestable bumpkin to rise meteorically.

Such a lack of discernment.

These elves, all nothing but haughty fools.

The kick he received had left him bedridden for five whole days, a profound humiliation for him. However, since the offender was the son of Grand Duke Fantali, a person beyond his reach, the resentment inevitably fell on Wu Qingsong.

And rightly so! 

If not for Wu Qingsong’s reckless actions, none of these events would have occurred! He wouldn’t have lost face, nor would he have faced the Marquis’s reprimand. All his woes were due to that detestable Taglaredi.

He couldn’t rest until he saw Wu Qingsong dead.

He had initially thought it would be challenging, perhaps requiring him to bide his time for several years. After all, Wu Qingsong’s appointment was sanctioned by the Marquis Osaga, and as an official of the Osaga Merchant Guild, it was somewhat inconvenient to target Wu Qingsong at this time.

But unexpectedly, Wu Qingsong’s arrogance alienated almost everyone, inciting widespread anger. He had dug his own grave. If he was impatient to meet his end, he could blame no one else.

Thus, Benstem instructed one of his subordinates to start fanning the flames of dissatisfaction among the mercenaries against the Thirteenth Mercenary Group. While he didn’t originate these rumors, he was responsible for their dissemination. And the tales of vast wealth? Those were his carefully crafted fabrications.

As a merchant long established in the Esola region, he knew these mercenary groups were nothing more than pawns of the large trading houses. Even the so-called strongest, the Dark Hand, was just longer-lived and slightly more adept at maintaining a balance. The idea that they possessed significant wealth was, to him, utterly laughable.

However, Benstem probably assumed that the mercenaries, failing to find the expected treasure, would capture Tagraedi and torture him harshly, demanding the location of the hidden treasure. The idea that they would torment Wu Qingsong for a fortune that didn’t exist, while Wu could only protest his innocence in vain, excited Benstem so much that his whole body trembled.

Why else would someone of Benstem’s stature personally come to such a remote place, if not to see Wu Qingsong suffer and die before his eyes?

“Send someone over there to check,” Benstem finally blurted out, unable to contain himself any longer. “If that man is still alive, bring him back here! Remember, I want him alive. I want to see him die with my own eyes.”

“Right away,” the foxman quickly agreed and headed downstairs. But the next second, he let out a scream and tumbled back up, terror-stricken.

“Lord, it’s bad news!” he exclaimed, shaking.

“What’s the matter now?” Benstem snapped irritably. But in the next instant, his actions came to a sudden halt.

“So you’re the one behind all this.” Wu Qingsong’s figure slowly appeared at the stairway entrance and immediately recognized Benstem.

“You…” Benstem exclaimed in shock. “Someone, come quickly! Help!”

Where were those cursed guards?

Benstem was seething inside, vowing to punish the neglectful guards who let this disgraced intruder slip through.

“Someone, come here quickly!” he bellowed, but the area, which should have been bustling with his subordinates, was eerily silent, utterly devoid of any sound.

Wu Qingsong continued to approach him, step by step, leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the ground. Benstem’s voice involuntarily quivered with fear.

“What are you planning to do? I am an official of the Osaga Merchant Guild!”

Wu Qingsong sneered coldly in response.

“You can’t harm me! All you have is because of Marquis Osaga! You can’t act against me! You can’t betray your benefactor!”

As Wu Qingsong reached him, the foxman, previously hiding behind Benstem, began whimpering in terror, “Lord… Lord… Ahh!!!”

He screamed as a large houndman dragged him away from Benstem’s side, struggling futilely before being impaled through the heart with a sword.

Benstem was utterly panicked.

“This is all a misunderstanding!” he cried out loudly. “Tagraedi, I came to stop them! I swear it’s true. They had already left by the time I arrived, but I immediately sent people after them! I swear, I was trying to stop them! I can explain, I can explain!”

Wu Qingsong, however, simply raised his sword with a calm demeanor. 

“Your explanations are useless to me. If you like explaining so much, then go to hell and explain there as long as you want.”