Chương 233: 233：Buying Loyalty

The scout captain swallowed hard, violently forcing down the lingering horror in his heart as he respectfully placed his fist over his breastplate, bowing deeply.

"Please report to Lord Soren! We hail from Ironwood Fortress!"

"Commander Galahad and General Gabriel have specifically ordered us to deliver this handwritten letter! They earnestly invite Vice Commander Soren to attend a banquet at Ironwood Fortress!" A short while later, inside the stilted command cabin, the ambient warmth radiating from the geothermal fire-vein baked the room comfortably. Soren broke the wax seal bearing the Supreme Command crest and quickly scanned the parchment.

The tone of the two regular army generals was incredibly deferential, overflowing with genuine, profound gratitude. They frankly admitted that thanks to the massive Orc troop movements Soren had intercepted and shared in advance—which flawlessly pinpointed the enemy's marching routes—the main force of Ironwood Fortress was able to set a perfect pocket-ambush. In the Valley of Lamentation, they successfully annihilated an entire infantry battalion of four hundred Black Iron Orcs.

"This is an olive branch. They're testing the sincerity of our cooperation." Soren casually tossed the parchment onto his desk, a knowing, calculating smirk touching his lips. As a commander deeply versed in modern military geopolitics, he knew exactly how immensely valuable it was to establish a localized military alliance behind enemy lines.

Greywater Village currently boasted elite troops and sturdy horses, but if he truly wanted to navigate the treacherous, multi-faction geopolitical quagmire and quietly amass explosive wealth, fighting completely alone was not a viable long-term strategy. He needed the Silvermoon Kingdom's regular defensive lines to act as his external buffer zone.

"Since they're showing such absolute sincerity, there's naturally no reason to decline a free meal." Soren stood up, taking his black windproof cloak from the wall and sweeping it over his shoulders, casually picking up his fine-steel longsword.

"Pass down my orders! Renn, Lyra, you're with me. Assemble seventy of our vanguard elites! Fully armed! We depart immediately!" Two hours later. The towering, cyan-stone walls of Ironwood Fortress loomed faintly within the dense fog. Serving as a paramount defensive bulwark for the North of the Silvermoon Kingdom, the exterior of these walls was perennially stained with dried, blackened blood.

At this moment, the fortress's massive, iron-forged drawbridge was slowly being lowered, its rusted chains clanking heavily. An absolutely inconceivable scene was currently unfolding before the city gates. Standing in the howling, freezing wind, the highly traditional, veteran Supreme Commander of the fortress, Galahad, hadn't even bothered to wear his helmet. He had marched right out to the outer edge of the drawbridge.

Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him was Gabriel, a powerful noble general renowned across the borders for his [Lightning Knight Swordsmanship]. These were two towering figures who possessed enough authority to command a seat in the royal capital's Supreme Command. Yet here they were, leading two rows of their absolute most elite personal guards, voluntarily standing in the freezing cold wind, personally waiting for a young man whose official title was merely "Vice Commander of a Knight Order / Village Chief"!

"General... isn't this elevating him a bit too much?" A fortress centurion standing guard nearby was shivering from the cold, unable to stop himself from muttering under his breath:"Our Ironwood Fortress is garrisoned by thousands of regular troops! Even if this Soren won a few battles, he's just a Lord of some backwater swamp. How is he worthy of having you two personally..."

"Shut your mouth!" Galahad snapped his head around, his reprimand incredibly severe.

"What the hell do you know?! If it wasn't for his deployment maps and pristine intelligence, do you think we could have eaten those four hundred green-skinned bastards in the Valley of Lamentation?!"

"If he hadn't critically crippled that Shadow Priest, the tragedy of the [Sons of Titan] ripping through our defensive lines a few days ago would be repeating itself right now!" Gabriel rested his hand on the hilt of his lightning-attribute sword, letting out a low, profound sigh.

"Soren's strategic value eclipses an army of ten thousand." This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Just then, the synchronized, earth-shaking rhythm of marching footsteps echoed from the dense fog ahead. THUD! THUD! THUD! Moments later, through the gaps in the swirling mist, a terrifying, pitch-black heavy infantry unit slowly materialized into everyone's field of vision. Leading the formation was a man with a tall, straight posture.

His short black hair danced wildly in the freezing wind, and his expression radiated the absolute, chilling calmness of a man who could see through everything. It was Soren. And behind him... Were seventy vanguard elites who had been augmented by the [Basic Troll Blood Serum], their physiques exceptionally, monstrously burly! Every single one of them had completely swapped their gear for the freshly forged [Black Steel Full-Plate Armor] created by Luger!

The matte-black heavy plate, meticulously engineered to complement human biomechanics, didn't reflect a single ray of the gloomy skylight, yet it radiated an absolutely suffocating, apocalyptic pressure of death. Each man gripped a two-and-a-half-meter armor-piercing heavy halberd. As their fine-steel boots stomped through the mud, seventy men moved as a single, flawless entity. Their utter silence barely contained their ruthless, boiling killing intent.

The fortress centurion who had just been complaining felt a violent wave of absolute terror crash over him. The sheer, freezing killing intent radiating from them literally froze the words in his throat. His legs turned to jelly, entirely out of his control. Galahad and Gabriel exchanged a rapid glance, neither able to conceal the profound, world-shattering awe in their eyes.

As veteran commanders, it took them only a single glance to realize that the craftsmanship and material density of the defensive gear worn by those seventy soldiers completely transcended the absolute limits of the Kingdom's most elite royal forces! Let alone the fact that every single one of these soldiers was cloaked in the cold, ruthless aura of men who had survived countless, horrific bloodbaths.

"Commander Galahad. General Gabriel." Soren halted exactly ten paces from the city gate. Resting one hand casually on the hilt of his sword, he offered a perfectly measured, deeply charismatic smile.

"Brother Soren!" Violently forcing down the shock in his heart, Galahad took massive strides forward. Completely disregarding the standard reservations of a high-ranking general, he firmly grabbed Soren's gauntlet-clad forearm. His eyes actually reddened slightly in the biting wind.

"The Battle of Lamentation Valley! Complete annihilation of a four-hundred-man Black Iron Orc battalion! Those monsters who previously shattered our walls and butchered our brothers... we chopped off every single one of their heads!" The old veteran's voice trembled slightly, overflowing with the absolute catharsis of finally avenging a blood debt:"If you hadn't informed us of their deployment shifts in advance, we never would have seized such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

Being able to collect this blood debt means the brothers of Ironwood Fortress owe you their lives!" Gabriel also stepped forward, placing his fist over his heart and delivering a flawlessly standard, peer-level noble military salute:"Gabriel is absolutely, profoundly convinced of Commander Soren's artistry in warfare." Facing such overwhelmingly high praise from two titans of the regular army, Soren appeared exceptionally humble. He didn't greedily hoard the credit.

Instead, he took a half-step back, his expression turning solemn and righteous.

"You both exaggerate my role, Generals."

"The human defensive line is a single entity; fighting in absolute synchronization is merely my duty. I, Soren, simply relied on the treacherous terrain to gather a few whispers. The true heroes who bathed in blood and engaged in brutal, close-quarters meat-grinders with the Orcs in the Valley of Lamentation were the brave warriors of Ironwood Fortress."

"This glory rightfully belongs to every single soldier who bled on that battlefield." His words were incredibly magnanimous, perfectly balancing humility with immense grandeur. He provided the two generals with an impeccable out and massive face, leaving every single fortress officer and soldier present deeply, profoundly moved. Galahad erupted into a hearty, booming laugh, feeling more than ever that this young man was utterly unfathomable and deeply worthy of friendship.

"Well said! Since Brother Soren is so exceptionally righteous, I cannot be stingy!" The old general waved his hand, pointing heroically toward the interior of the fortress:"In the Battle of Lamentation Valley, we captured four hundred complete sets of Orcish Black Iron armor and a massive cache of heavy weapons!"

"Once this banquet concludes, you will take two hundred sets of that armor and weaponry back to Greywater Village!" The moment those words left his mouth, a collective look of sheer heartache flashed across the faces of the surrounding fortress soldiers. Two hundred sets of Black Iron armor! In the resource-starved borderlands, that was an astronomically massive fortune! However, upon hearing this, Soren merely offered a faint, serene smile.

"I deeply appreciate the Commander's goodwill, but I absolutely cannot accept these spoils." Soren rejected the offer firmly on the spot, his voice carrying clearly into the ears of every man present:"Ironwood Fortress stands on the absolute vanguard against the Blackstone horde. Your defensive pressure is immensely severe. You need this Black Iron to arm your new recruits far more than I do."

"Between brothers-in-arms, why draw such boundaries?" His declaration was awe-inspiring, delivered with resonant, absolute righteousness. Galahad and Gabriel were moved beyond words, their respect for Soren's incredible grand-strategic vision reaching its absolute peak. But in reality, only Soren himself knew the truth...

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Soren sneered in his heart, silently rolling his eyes. Right now, the subterranean geothermal forges of Greywater Village were running twenty-four hours a day without stopping. Every single one of his vanguard elites had swapped to [Black Steel Full-Plate Armor]. From his previous slaughters at the Soulsever Gorge and Bloodhorn Keep, he had captured over 1, 200 intact sets of Orcish Black Iron armor in a single breath, along with over 20 tons of purified, premium Black Iron ingots!

His territory's storehouses were so entirely overstuffed that even Meyer's trap-building goblins were currently using Orcish Black Iron breastplates to level the wobbly legs of their workbenches! He, Soren, absolutely did not give a single damn about this outdated, inferior gear. It was vastly more profitable to use this pile of "trash" to execute a flawless diplomatic maneuver, permanently buying the unwavering loyalty and goodwill of these two powerful generals.

Just as the group was preparing to enter the fortress and begin the banquet...

"Hyah! Hyah!" The urgent, frantic clatter of galloping hooves erupted from the southern highway leading toward the royal capital. A fiery red cape fluttered wildly, exceptionally striking against the freezing, grey wind. The rider rapidly approaching was none other than the Commander of the Crimson Moon Knights, Leona.