Chapter 164 — The Winter Construction Plan

"The kind you're describing are the sort who'd sneak off to steal chickens and rob dogs for a few silver coins, the rank and file barely above armed militia," Gao Yang said with a glance at the half-elf. "But those two we caught... didn't you notice? One is a third-rank knight, one a second-rank arcane mage, plus the low-ranking knight and mage shot down earlier in the volley. They're all low-tier professionals, true, but in a place like the Southern Marches, any one of them could scrape by as some lord's army commander or occult advisor. If they went east to earn a bit of battle merit and curry favor with Silas Loren's family, they could even climb into the nobility as a granted baron or viscount. Yet they chose to serve as mercenaries in a poor backwater like this. Why do you think that is?"

Amber thought hard. "For an ideal? Look, I'm a shadow master of considerable skill, and I still rob graves..."

Gao Yang had not expected any serious answer from this shame of all living things. After Amber finished his nonsense, he simply went on himself: "There are indeed powerful professionals among mercenaries, but such companies usually operate in the north near the Holy Dragon Duchy or in the east near the Typhon Empire—places with no shortage of danger and opportunity, where the wealth to be gained from adventuring or completing commissions is enough to make a professional choose this not-particularly-honorable path. But the south has known peace for a long time. Mercenary companies operating here are usually weak in both strength and means. As for mercenaries with several professionals among them, able to wear extraordinary armaments—there is usually only one explanation: they are 'black-hand squads' in the exclusive service of one noble or several."

At this, Gao Rong smiled. "Mercenaries of that stripe have strong mental fortitude, and most likely have some leverage or hostage in a noble's hands, so they don't fear harsh interrogation. Ordinary whipping won't work."

Amber looked at Gao Yang curiously. "Then how are you going to pry their mouths open?"

"Piyun says he has a way, only he needs to prepare some special-effect salves and rituals—that's why I'm in no hurry," Gao Rong said, eyes narrowing as he glanced at Amber. "And I refuse to believe you didn't lift something off those two mercenaries. I know your character. Usually, if I send you to the storeroom for a bottle of ink, you drink half of it on the way back..."

Amber's face went red at once. "When have I ever drunk ink!"

"It's a figure of speech. You know what a figure of speech is?"

"Tch," Amber squeezed a bit of air through his teeth to express his displeasure, then, sure enough, with a face full of conflicted reluctance, began rummaging through his person. "I'm telling you, this is my spoils of war. After you've looked, you have to give it back..."

"Give it back, my foot. Didn't I just make the rule forbidding plunder on the battlefield—all spoils to be handed in and merit recorded uniformly? Did you forget?" Gao Cen said as he took the various odds and ends Amber produced and examined them one by one. "Don't pout. You're my personal guard—are you really going to be the first to break the rules? And it's not as if I won't compensate you. Merit still earns rewards... Hah, that's quite a haul. No wonder the soldiers reported finding nothing of value on those two captives... You got it all over here?"

Amber's eye twitched, his heart bleeding as if from a wound, and only after hearing Gao Yang promise compensation did he feel slightly better.

Then Gao Song's gaze was suddenly caught by a dagger among the assorted trinkets.

On the dagger's hilt was a mark that looked like the crest of some noble house.