Chapter 81: Punishment and Rewards (Part 2)

To Wu Qingsong’s astonishment, he found himself face to face with the elderly half-elf whose shop he had dismantled, the very one who had cursed them with dire fates.

Despite initially intending for these people to ‘heroically fall’ in battle, the ferocity and intensity that unfolded greatly surpassed Wu Qingsong’s calculations. The houndmen, tasked with supervision, messaging, and as reserves, were overwhelmed. Even Ram’s wolf warriors were engaged, leaving no room for foul play against these individuals.

After the city’s fall, many beastfolk he had conscripted fled into the city, most likely meeting their demise.

Who would have thought that this old fellow, of all people, would survive?

Only now did Wu Qingsong recall. This man had vociferously claimed that the shop they had destroyed belonged to… Lord Osaga?

‘Could my luck be this terrible?’ he thought, recognizing the unmistakable air of authority in the elder’s demeanor.

Wu Qingsong’s emotions felt like a tumultuous rollercoaster ride, but now that he was here, escape was no longer an option.

“You dared to show disrespect to the lord before, but now you hesitate at the door?” the elderly half-elf had been eyeing him, stepping forward to call out loudly.

This confrontation emboldened Wu Qingsong, prompting him to step forward boldly.

He thought to himself, ‘The worst I’ll face is a severe reprimand. With my merits, even if this elf is biased or overprotective, at most, my achievements might be annulled. He surely wouldn’t execute me, right?’

“Marquis, I am Woody Tagraedi, commander of the 13th Mercenary Group. I present my respects to you,” he declared confidently, striding to the center of the hall, prepared to face whatever consequences lay ahead.

Contrary to Wu Qingsong’s expectation, the figure presiding over the audience hall from the central staircase was not the mage, but the magic warrior. With his helmet set aside, his elven traits, the signature long ears, and facial features, were unmistakable. Even to someone like Wu Qingsong, used to modern society’s flawless photo edits, the elf’s visage was the very definition of flawless beauty. Yet, he wasn’t just a pretty face. He exuded a distinctly masculine charm, brimming with virility.

If it weren’t for the furrowed brow and a face marred by disdain and indifference, it would be hard not to feel a certain involuntary admiration for such a creature, even knowing he might be an enemy in the future.

“So you’re the leader of the Thirteenth Mercenary Group?” Marquis Osaga asked with a raised eyebrow and a cold demeanor.

“Yes, Marquis,” Wu Qingsong responded.

Seated high on the steps, flanked by half-elves, every gaze in the room, following the lord’s lead, bore down on Wu Qingsong. Even in the absence of an overt military threat, such an environment exerted immense psychological pressure on the one being questioned.

If Wu Qingsong had been a native of this world, he might have already knelt in submission. However, his deeply ingrained belief in equality and his conviction that he had done nothing wrong allowed him to stand firm against this pressure.

‘What’s so special about you? Would Nina be any less stronger than you?’ he reassured himself internally, gathering strength from this thought.

Gillgood’s death taught Wu Qingsong an important lesson, showing weakness in front of the elves was futile. So why not confront them with resolve?

“Such audacity!” the elderly half-elf exclaimed again. “When you demolished the Marquis’s shop…”

Wu Qingsong, however, ignored his tirade, standing quietly, unresponsive to his relentless chatter.

Wu Qingsong had a hunch that Marquis Osaga wasn’t overly enraged about the demolition of his shop. If he were, with his stature and power, he could have easily taken more aggressive and direct actions against Wu Qingsong, rather than allowing him this opportunity to stand.

He suspected Marquis Osaga had other motives, realizing that arguing with an old man at this juncture would be unwise.

Moreover, he believed that any superior, especially elves, wouldn’t appreciate subordinates prone to vulgar squabbles.

Indeed, after the elder spoke a few sentences, Lord Osaga gently tapped on the table. Then someone quickly nudged the old man, prompting him to stop.

“Woody Tagraedi? What is your response to these allegations?” Marquis Osaga asked, his tone peculiar.

While others might perceive it as a scolding, Wu Qingsong, not feeling any less worthy, interpreted it as an opportunity to explain his actions.

“Marquis, in that situation, I believed it was crucial to utilize all necessary measures to secure the city’s defenses. Facing the ant people, our hastily conscripted militia was evidently outmatched. Using logs and stones was our only viable strategy. I had no better alternatives, so I had to improvise with available resources–”

“Outrageous!” the elderly half-elf exclaimed, seizing the moment. “In the Lord’s presence, you–”

Wu Qingsong, reaching his limit of tolerance, was about to respond when suddenly, a figure appeared beside the elder and sent him flying with a kick. The old man crashed into the crowd, causing a wave of gasps.

“Enough of you already.” 

The young-looking elf who intervened was presumably one of the archer knights. But realistically, it was hard to determine an elf’s age by appearance, as even Marquis Osaga, with his robust masculinity, looked no older than thirty.

The half-elves remained silent, not daring to assist the old man as he struggled helplessly on the ground. Only after another youthful elf waved did attendants rush in to remove him.

“Well done,” the intervening elf approached Marquis Osaga, assessing Wu Qingsong. “Of all Esola, only two areas held fast, the city hall and your section of the wall. Yet you had significantly fewer defenders. How did you achieve that?”

Caught off guard, Wu Qingsong then answered, his gaze met by the elf’s inquisitive eyes, “Probably because I’m quite bold. I preemptively dismantled houses for rolling logs and stones to ensure we were well-prepared.”

The young elf’s laugh revealed a more androgynous beauty, especially with his golden hair, a stark contrast to Lord Osaga’s ruggedness. The smile almost seemed enchantingly dangerous. Wu Qingsong quickly composed himself, diverting his attention to the elf’s feet.

“You were born in the Principality of Sanghel? Did you previously serve in the military?” the youthful elf asked, meaning they had already examined Wu Qingsong’s registration documents.

“Your Excellency, I was previously a merchant,” Wu Qingsong quickly responded.

“A merchant?” The young elf appeared somewhat disappointed. “And your father’s lineage?”

“I’m sorry, Your Excellency, I’m not entirely sure about that,” Wu Qingsong answered somewhat awkwardly. These details were part of Woody Tagraedi’s background, easily verifiable upon investigation, and beyond his ability to alter.

So, he was an outcast, an untrained half-elf bastard? This revelation prompted a slight nod from the elves. If he had a military background or came from a prominent mixed-blood family, achieving such results might not be too challenging. In comparison to other half-elves in Esola City, he could be regarded as competent.

However, as an illegitimate son without any military training or formal education, managing such accomplishments with his newly formed mercenary troop almost qualified him as a commendable talent.

“Why did you choose houndpeople as your subordinates?” Marquis Osaga questioned.

It appeared they had conducted a preliminary investigation on him.

Wu Qingsong explained, “Marquis, I am aware that most would opt for mastiffmen, given their obvious physical strength. But in my view, for an army, even just a mercenary group, discipline is important. Individual strength pales in comparison to a well-disciplined formation. Houndmen, as opposed to mastiffmen, are more obedient and possess a stronger sense of teamwork. That’s why I chose them.”

“You also provided them with armor?”

“It was merely basic leather armor,” Wu Qingsong answered. “It’s very inexpensive, yet surprisingly effective.”

Other leaders of mercenary groups were undoubtedly present in the hall. Wu Qingsong hoped to promote this type of armor more broadly, making its sale less conspicuous.

“Oh?” asked Marquis Osaga.

Wu Qingsong proceeded to describe the casualties within his unit. Though personally dissatisfied, such a casualty rate was impressively low for the elves and half-elves who often saw canine races as expendable.

“Your Excellency surely realizes the significant investment required to feed these individuals from the slums and to build their combat abilities. Training them to meet basic military standards is another expense. If they simply die, all previous investments are wasted. I believe equipping them, even with cheap leather armor, can significantly protect our investment returns.”

These words weren’t his genuine sentiments, but without framing it this way, the elves and half-elves might not embrace this practice.

Given the aftermath of this conflict, Esola’s defensive forces and mercenary groups would certainly need considerable reinforcements. If he could persuade them to adopt and spread the use of inexpensive armor, and then take the lead in this business, Ram, who adored wealth, would undoubtedly be ecstatic.

“I understand you utilized many auxiliary personnel during the battle?” asked the young elf.

“Yes, Your Excellency, mainly, I assigned them to assist in cooking, delivering meals, transporting supplies, and tending to the wounded. I believe this approach maximizes the combat effectiveness of the soldiers, allowing them to face the enemy in their best condition.”

“Well said,” the young elf commented. “Your insight is far superior to that of most people here.”

That comment was rather tricky.

‘With such a sweeping statement, how will I manage to fit in afterward?’ Wu Qingsong was left sweating by the remark, opting not to respond.

“This is my nephew, Julian,” Marquis Osaga introduced. “His father is Grand Duke Fantali. Julian is currently a knight-in-waiting, here to complete his rite of passage into adulthood.”

“I’ll soon have my own land,” the young elf said with a hint of arrogance. “Tagraedi, I believe you would be an excellent sheriff.”

The suggestion to recruit was clear, eliciting another round of gasps from the half-elves, though this time they were tinged with envy.

Wu Qingsong, however, was taken aback. ‘Oh no, did I overdo it while trying to impress?’