We all stopped and thought. For several minutes, no one said anything.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Piqval slowly raised his hand.
– I'm no strategist, but I think I have an idea of how to make things better for us.
No one said anything, just waiting for him to continue.
– First, could you tell me how many of you have a grudge or discontent with the Baron?
Everyone, literally everyone, raised their hands. Miss Yaou in particular had a morbid look in her eyes that frightened me more than the black bear that sometimes appeared.
– And how many of you are willing to put innocent lives at risk, or kill them indirectly?
At that, everyone lowered their hands, well, except our errant knight and the young lady.
– Do you think you can handle this this time? To be clear, my idea won't kill, but it will bring these people much closer to the danger we'd like.
Miss Yaou and the knight kept their hands raised while we looked at each other, silently felt it, and raised our hands as well.
****************
(From the Baron's knights' side)
– Sooooo, the plan is to just let them clear the way and then we go collect the fruits of their labor?
Hangal asked his commander, one of the mages who had joined his squad.
– Roughly speaking, yes, – the old commander replied.
– But it's not just that.
Hangal snorted with obvious disdain.
'Of course, those damned hooded men wouldn't be content with simply crushing a knight's honor.'
Not that Hangal could say much; even at almost 50, he still couldn't get past 3rd rank, or rather, he couldn't. But unlike Diem, Connor's master, or Kamila, the "receptionist," who arrived at a "wall," in his case, it was a complete disregard for his own talent.
Hangal could have reached 5th rank (around level 60) if he had dedicated himself, but once he reached 3rd, he began using his reputation as a knight and his strength for less than chivalrous ends. One day, while he was enjoying his indulgences, he didn't realize his drink had been spiked with an extremely potent poison that ended up destabilizing his Aetheric lines.
When you're young, 3rd rank is a blessing, but as you grow older, it becomes a curse for obvious reasons. Luckily, this happened after he had sworn his sword to the Baron. And since birds of a feather tend to flock together, he was joined by several other somewhat problematic but still capable knights.
The Baron's mindset could be seen by looking at his knights. Why spend so much on quality when quantity can be an asset, even if it was a collection of strays little better than mercenaries.... or thugs.
That's why Hangal's internal complaint wasn't sincere, just a random reason to complain about the old man who had to obey.
– Please, oh great sir, enlighten our feeble minds with your wisdom. – Hangal said with obvious disdain.
But incredibly, the mage did nothing to retaliate. Or rather, he couldn't, even if he really wanted to, very much.
Mages are respected, adored, and feared wherever they go in the kingdom or even on this continent due to their scarcity, but that doesn't exempt them from certain rules. The main one being that of showing results.
The order the old man commanded had already attempted an expedition and failed. Even if it was with low-level members, a failure is still a failure, and they were one of the first ones to hear about the Ordeal and conduct the initial tests.
Obtaining a monopoly of such place, with literal miracle plants and animals, would be immensely advantageous from any perspective. And yet the leaders of their order sent low-ranking members on an important task like this??!!!.
Of coyrse, they tried to compensate with human resources by hiring mercenaries and partnering with the Baron for something that should have been easy, and they ended up literally burning money on it.
His order wasn't large, but it wasn't small either, and the Baron's investment certainly wasn't small. So even though he wanted to set fire to the "young man" who was showing great disrespect for his position, the old mage commander couldn't do anything to worsen his order's situation with the Baron.
...Not yet, at least.
Exhaling slowly, he looked at the few present.
– Very well, the idea is simple, and you've probably already guessed the gist of it. We'll let the commoners more accustomed to interacting with the creatures of the Ordeal deal with the green demons—
– Actually, they're called goblins, sir.
A knight fresh off squire duty spoke, earning him a cold glare from the mage and the others. He immediately swallowed and fell silent.
– As I was saying. We'll let them deal with the goblins while we divide up and circle the fight. The moment the goblins begin to weaken, we'll move in.
– The mages, along with me, will rain down on the heads of the goblins and commoners, eliminating as many as possible. The squires and servants will be in charge of collecting the items they drop, while the knights will dispatch those who are still alive, anyone still alive.
He said succinctly, to the astonishment of none, or almost none, of those present.
– Y-Y-Y, w-w-well, sir... what about the others?
The same young man asked.
– What others?
–T-the others who came with the commoners. W-what should we do with them?
Not only the mage, but the young man's other "companions" looked at him as if to say: are you an idiot or what?
– The last time my order came here, less than half of the servants and non-combatants made it back. Of the various groups that enter the Ordeal, sometimes none of them do make it back.
The old wizard said slowly, clearly and frighteningly.
– Therefore, all the non-combatants not coming back is also possible. Understand, child?.
Under the wizard's penetrating gaze, Hangal's scornful look, the mixture of mockery and exasperation from the others was more than enough to make the young man stay quiet and lower his head.
– Ah! But, master wizard, the young man raised a good point. Just as you said, it's not impossible that everyone would end up dying in the fight against the demons—hhuuhhuuh, sorry, against the goblins.
Another knight, about the same age as Hangal, said.
– So... If some disappeared and their bodies weren't found. Who's to say they weren't eaten by the goblins or other creatures in this place?
The implication of what the "knight" meant was quite obvious: If the villagers who came with the commoners who were going to fight were going to die anyway, why not take some and make some coin?
Strictly speaking, the young man wasn't opposed to stabbing the fighting commoners in the back. But he didn't seem too excited about the prospect of what would happen to the non-combatants.