Chapter 99: Flaunting Wealth

On the day the Thirteenth Mercenary Group relocated, many onlookers gathered by the roadside.

“Be careful,” Wu Qingsong advised all his subordinates.

The power and interest vacuum created in the Esola Hills area due to the recent insectoid disaster was gradually being filled, but there were still new mercenary troops arriving with outdated information. It was evident that these latecomers had few insectoids left to hunt and little chance of acquiring their own territories. Apart from being absorbed into a larger group or becoming a mercenary for some trading company, survival prospects in this region were bleak.

Many impoverished brigades probably couldn’t even afford the journey out. Elsewhere, they might resort to becoming bandits for quick loot, but here, they struggled to find vulnerable villages or isolated merchant caravans to target.

Under such watchful eyes, the likelihood of someone recklessly attacking the 13th Mercenary Group, currently the largest in Esola, was slim. However, the envious, jealous, and resentful expressions of the poor mercenaries watching their convoy pass by made Wu Qingsong uneasy.

He had some assets now.

Grains, unsold goods, hard leather and insectoid shells for armor production, various tools, dismantled machine parts for transport, and of course, his personal wealth, the brigade’s assets, and the personal belongings of the mercenaries and workers. 

Although some had been moved in small amounts prior, the remaining goods still filled over twenty carts, and many people carried personal bundles. If those bystanders, spurred by someone, suddenly rushed in and stole everything, Wu Qingsong really doubted he could do much about it.

“Prioritize protecting the machinery,” Wu Qingsong instructed Harold. “If there’s really a problem, set fire to that cart and burn it.”

Pigmen armed with large shields and maces guarded the most crucial carts, slowly advancing. Finally, as they moved deeper into the northern hills, the crowd of onlookers began to thin.

“Send out four teams for reconnaissance,” Wu Qingsong breathed a sigh of relief, the previously suffocating atmosphere had been almost unbearable.

“This is the trouble of lacking a solid foundation,” Harold commented.

If it were the former Dark Hand or the Saint’s Ey, known for over two to three decades with numerous feats known far and wide, and with many famous mercenaries in their ranks, not to mention connections with Esola’s city guards, surrounding duchies, and trading companies, those rootless hunters would hardly dare to target them.

The Thirteenth Mercenary Group, established for less than a year, might have gained Wu Qingsong some recognition in the previous defense of Esola, but with only him slightly more prominent, the brigade’s deterrence was greatly diminished. Moreover, many knew they were not favored by the trading companies and didn’t recruit newcomers like other brigades.

“Taking out a few who are too bold and hanging them by the roadside should do,” Wu Qingsong said irritably. Faced with such a situation, he didn’t have many good options.

“We need to find ways to improve relations with the surrounding mercenary groups,” Harold suggested. “In these areas, mutual assistance is the fundamental principle.”

But he knew this wouldn’t be easy.

Everyone was essentially a nouveau riche who had made a fortune from the recent insectoid plague, which meant they lacked the accumulation of their predecessors, both in terms of wealth and talent. Apart from the Thirteenth Mercenary Group, the other five brigades that had acquired the right to manage territories were all saddled with debt. They lived hand-to-mouth, even having to accept the exploitation and control of trading companies.

Others were in such dire straits, while they were thriving. It was a natural source of resentment.

You could argue it was because you seized the opportunity, knew more than others, thought of things others hadn’t, and put in more effort. However, you couldn’t make others understand this, nor could you control their envy.

“A man not envied is a mediocre man,” Wu Qingsong said, coining a phrase unknown in this world, which left Harold pondering for a long time.

Covering nearly fifty miles, the mercenary brigade could make a round trip in a day, but the large caravan had to stop on the road to rest the rented pack horses.

This was also the most vulnerable stage.

All mercenaries and their families hardly slept that night, resting by the fireside in their clothes, weapons always at hand, ready for battle. Scouts patrolled two to three miles around the caravan, ensuring no large enemy forces approached.

After a difficult night waiting for dawn and the horses to regain strength, they hurriedly resumed their journey.

Wu Qingsong felt uneasy as if something was about to happen. However, the houndmen sent out for reconnaissance kept sending back “All clear” signals, and they approached their destination without incident.

“My lord,” Angus, leading a small detachment left behind, greeted Wu Qingsong from a distance.

“Any updates on the surroundings?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“Everything is normal, my lord. The warehouse and the wooden houses for new residents are all ready for occupancy. However, this morning a few antpeope surged out of the mine, and it took some effort to kill them.”

“That’s good to hear.” 

Wu Qingsong spurred his horse up a small hill covered in flowers, looking out over the wooden city he named Orgrimmar. It was beginning to take shape according to his plans, but in his eyes, it was still just a small town.

“Folks. We’re almost at our true home. Let’s push on!” he shouted to the caravan below.

The houndmen responded enthusiastically, and the previously somber caravan came back to life.

With more people arriving, Wu Qingsong asked Feya to stop using her ability to control treants. Orgrimmar was now bustling like a normal town under construction, with scaffolding and wooden cranes. The deerpeople stopped their work, looking somewhat anxiously at those who had followed their lord before them, uncertain of their future.

Under the setting sun, Feya watched enviously as Liuli, sent earlier by Wu Qingsong, ran toward him. Wu Qingsong caught her and playfully tossed her high into the air.

Feya, already aware that it was Liuli in her transformed state who had defeated her treants, couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Like her, Liuli possessed a unique ability and had lost her parents early. Yet, why was it that Liuli could enjoy such a carefree life, while Feya herself had almost been burned alive by those she trusted?

Wu Qingsong caught Liuli, who was meowing joyfully and walked towards Ling, who stood by the roadside watching them. He gently stroked her ear and then, together, they headed towards the wooden city, resembling a young couple with their child. Witnessing this scene, Feya’s heart suddenly felt sour, even tinged with jealousy.