You can read the advance chapters here : patreon.com/Vigilante04
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[Successfully kill a player, gain 4 points, capture 1 point, and gain 2 additional agility points]
The updated data card is:
[Ian: Strength 26, Agility 24, Mental Strength 2
Skills: Basic etiquette, basic reading and writing of the common tongue, advanced swordsmanship, advanced equestrian skills, intermediate lance skills
Attribute points: 0
Skill points: 0
Points: 17]
Ian stepped out of the cellar with the bloodied sword, inhaling the fresh air outside.
Although Ian's movements were far more fluid than when he first killed someone, the moment he sliced open the stranger's neck, he still fought the urge to gag.
He didn't like this feeling.
He felt trapped in a strange contradiction. On one hand, there was a sense of accomplishment in being able to kill and take another's life at will. On the other hand, his heart recoiled at such actions.
This was probably what people meant when they spoke of acting and standing at the same time. I'm truly a hypocrite, Ian thought bitterly.
"If you're feeling unsettled about killing, I can handle it for you," Rohr seemed to sense Ian's inner turmoil.
"No," Ian shook his head. "No, I have to do it myself. There will be many more situations like this in the future."
Unbidden, he remembered Eddard Stark's words: We believe that the person who passes the death sentence must carry it out themselves. If you wish to take a life, you should at least look into the person's eyes and hear their last words. If you cannot do this, perhaps you are unfit to be the one to kill them. Rulers who hide behind the scenes and let executioners do the work soon forget the meaning of death.
In the next moment, Ian laughed.
He hadn't done it personally to remember the meaning of death; he just wanted the complete kill reward.
Taking a deep breath, Ian prepared to sheathe the sword.
Unexpectedly, Rohr handed him a piece of linen cloth. "Wipe the blood off the sword first. If you don't, it'll dry in the scabbard, rusting the blade and making it hard to draw again," he advised.
Right. Ian had seen the dramatic way sheathing a bloodied sword was portrayed in movies, but now he understood the practical reason behind it. He took the cloth from Rohr and carefully wiped the blood off the sword before slipping it back into its scabbard.
"Sir Lucien, did you kill him?" Denzel, who had been waiting on the ground, finally asked. "Wasn't he the prisoner you wanted?"
"He was, yes, but these bastards don't need to be escorted back to King's Landing for trial. I've already sentenced them to death," Ian replied, patting Denzel on the shoulder. "You did well. Come to my room later. I'll reward you with an additional 10 gold dragons."
"That's almost two-thirds of our commission! Sir, I don't even know how to express our gratitude, but I assure you, you have our loyalty."
It's money that earns your loyalty, Ian thought to himself.
"You should know," Denzel continued, "the man you just executed tried to incite us, but we gave him a good beating right then and there, and he fell in line. Are you serious? You want us to betray you? Even if the Seven Gods themselves came down and told us to turn on you, we wouldn't do it!"
Upon hearing this, Ian's eyes narrowed instantly. "Call Sir Grantham and Naughty Dragon Queen to my room. I need to change the plan," he ordered Denzel.
Ian had noticed that Grantham didn't get along well with Dorian, so he had left Grantham's mercenaries with Dorian to help reorganize their group, while he brought Tormund back with him.
After issuing the orders, Ian made his way to his new room, a luxurious single suite at the end of the corridor.
Following Ian's instructions from the day before, Denzel and the others had sealed off the original door to this deluxe room and created a new one in the shared wall with the neighboring room.
Ian's plan was that he would occupy the inner single room, while Rolle and Keith would stay in the outer one. This arrangement meant that anyone who wanted to enter Ian's room would have to first pass through the two knights.
The advantage of this setup was that it ensured his absolute safety, while sparing him the agony of enduring the terrible snoring of the two knights.
Although the renovation was rushed due to time constraints, Ian was already quite satisfied with the result.
A few minutes later, Denzel and the others entered Ian's room.
"Sir, I thought you'd rest as soon as possible," Sir Grantham was the first to speak. Ian had expected some dissatisfaction from him about leaving his men with Dorian, but surprisingly, Grantham still spoke respectfully as always.
It could only be said that this restraint was a skill typical of a second-rate man, and it was no wonder that Ian had given him such a fitting nickname.
"You mentioned before that you wanted to change your plan. Did something happen with the Black Falcon Mercenary Group?" Denzel, still unaware of what had transpired at Black Falcon Castle, asked. Grantham remained tight-lipped.
"It's not about that," Ian shook his head. He'd decided to change his plan because of what Denzel had reported earlier—the player's attempt to incite his mercenaries.
This was a dangerous situation.
The player had clearly lacked persuasive skills, so the rebellion failed.
But what if a more articulate player appeared? Although Ian was 99% sure that his mercenaries wouldn't rebel, given his wages were three times higher than the other side's, Murphy's Law was always a concern.
Even if it meant sacrificing some profit, he wanted to eliminate this potential risk before it could grow.
"I'm referring to the plan to capture the criminals I mentioned earlier," Ian glanced at Denzel. "You've seen them before. I don't plan to bring them back to King's Landing for trial. I just want their heads."
"And anyway, even those wrongly arrested will eventually be silenced by you. Since they're dead the moment you capture them, why bother with this extra step for me to identify them?"
"What do you mean? From now on, we won't arrest people, but kill any suspicious targets on sight?" Denzel was taken aback. He could tell that Ian's attitude had shifted since their earlier conversation.
Ian said nothing, only nodding in agreement with Denzel's assumption.
"Yes, Sir."
What happened at Black Falcon Castle yesterday? Denzel became even more curious but knew better than to ask.
"Since I've temporarily left the cavalry at Black Falcon Mercenary Castle, we won't be controlling the King's Road for now. This time, we'll only manage the inn and its surroundings." Ian looked at each of them in turn.
"Remember, it's better to kill by mistake than to let someone slip through. As long as there's someone suspicious who meets the characteristics I mentioned, deal with them." This time, there would be no memorial arch. Ian was the special villain.
"Isn't this plan a bit too extreme?" A hint of hesitation flickered in Grantham's eyes.
"Who's going to take the blame? The ghosts from White Wall City, right? How long have they been running wild here?" Ian shrugged off the blame casually.
"Oh, I see what you mean," Grantham replied, understanding Ian's logic.
"Go ahead and get to work," Ian yawned again. "I really… can't take it any longer."
PS: Three chapters today, 7500 words.