With a gentle slice, a trickle of crimson blood flowed into the prepared goblet. Under the firelight, the blood coated Rhett's fingers, seeping into the crevices of his nails. This scene was all too familiar for Rhett and other seasoned veterans, a common occurrence on the battlefield. Yet, to others, it still appeared somewhat gruesome.
Mackov, though, had a strong mental fortitude. He quickly suppressed the slight discomfort he felt and accepted the blood-stained goblet, bringing it to his nose for a tentative sniff.
A faint, metallic scent filled his nostrils.
Mackov furrowed his brow slightly, studied the contents a bit longer, and then downed it in one gulp!
As the beast wine slid down his throat, his eyes flashed with surprise. Though it had smelled metallic, the thick liquid felt like a fiery mass, boiling as it flowed down his throat and warming his entire upper body.
"Hmm, what a strange taste... It's like drinking liquid fire!" Mackov smacked his lips and smiled. "One cup is enough for me. I wouldn't want any more. But to have tasted the beast wine of a Bloodmoon Werewolf, this trip to the battlefield has been worthwhile."
Rhett chuckled and glanced past Mackov to the rest of the troops. "Everyone, you know the rules. The beast wine is self-serve. Tonight, there's enough Bloodmoon Werewolf wine for all! But you must finish it within a minute!"
"Understood!" everyone responded in unison.
To them, drinking the beast wine of a Bloodmoon Werewolf was not only a mark of honor but also something to boast about in the future.
…
After downing the crimson beast wine, the joy of victory shone on every soldier's face.
Having cut off parts of the beasts' ears to take back as proof, Rhett and his team soon began their journey home.
As they made their way back, the eastern sky began to brighten, the stars fading as the gray dawn slowly illuminated the land.
On their return, Rhett coincidentally encountered Count Nilo, who was leading a hundred-man team heading southeast. The count seemed surprised to see Rhett but, due to the task at hand, could only wave from afar and couldn't stop to talk.
Rhett, also slightly surprised, waved back and continued leading his team forward.
They passed through numerous checkpoints and military fortresses along the front lines, finally returning to the rear of the camp.
The soldiers needed rest, so after dismissing his team, Rhett headed to the central war castle with a few others.
Although he didn't find Commander Anbiru in the main hall, a slightly plump man, who introduced himself as an assistant, was standing by the window.
Noticing Rhett, the man greeted him with a smile, "Captain Rhett, I'm Foddy, Assistant and Registrar to Lord Anbiru. I assume you're looking for the commander? Unfortunately, he's out on a mission. You can report the results of your mission to me, and I'll make sure they're recorded and relayed to him."
Foddy's eyes lit up as he glanced at the trophies Rhett's team had brought back—numerous beast ears—and his attitude became noticeably more polite.
"Foddy, may I ask... what happened to Assistant Daru?" Rhett inquired.
"He's fallen," Foddy interrupted, his eyes briefly reflecting sadness.
Rhett paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Ah, it's all in the past now. Let's focus on your mission report," Foddy said, shaking his head. "I heard you were facing over three hundred heavily injured orcs. Lord Anbiru mentioned that this shouldn't be too difficult for you."
"That's correct," Rhett nodded and began his report. "We completely wiped out 327 orcs, including 23 Bloodmoon Werewolves and Phantom Venomous Serpents, 102 Minotaurs, 110 Boarmen, and 70 Night Catmen."
"Excellent! I'm sure Lord Anbiru will be very pleased to hear this when he returns!" Foddy said with a smile as he jotted down the details on a thick piece of parchment. "Please also describe the battle itself."
"Of course..."
After spending about ten minutes providing a detailed report, Rhett left the black fortress.
He still had a few hours of free time.
Missions didn't come every day. When not assigned to a mission, his duties mostly involved rotating patrols, with the rest of the time being relatively free.
According to his schedule, he wouldn't need to lead his team on a patrol in a section of the Blood River until after midnight, so he had plenty of time during the day.
He thought of Telles, who was currently balancing his roles as an alchemist and executioner, and decided to visit him.
The supply depot's castle naming was straightforward—the castles housing alchemy workshops were named after various magical plants. Rhett already knew that Telles had been assigned to Windbell Castle.
Just as he was about to head there, a notification appeared before him.
[Family member has slain a Tier 3 enemy. Destiny Points +3.]
He paused mid-step.
Well, well, it seemed Telles had just executed a Tier 3 orc. Based on this message, Rhett deduced that Telles was currently at the execution grounds, not the alchemy workshop.
So, he changed course, following a narrowing path that led him to a dark, iron-fenced execution ground.
Through the bars, he could see both outdoor execution sites, where numerous bloodstained guillotines were set up, and indoor ones within the castle ahead. Inside the castle, there were not only execution sites but also prison cells and interrogation rooms.
Rhett scanned the area and quickly spotted Telles in a corner of the outdoor execution ground with a few other soldiers.
In front of a guillotine, a Night Catman lay bound in massive chains, unable to move.
Telles stood focused beside the Night Catman, a shadowy energy gradually forming in front of him, striking the orc's throat.
This process repeated several times before the Night Catman was finally killed. As Rhett watched, another notification appeared:
[Family member has slain a Tier 3 enemy. Destiny Points +3.]
With a pleased expression, Rhett showed his credentials to the guards and was allowed entry into the outdoor execution ground—only specialized personnel were permitted in the indoor areas unless granted special permission by the commander.
At that moment, around 50 to 60 executions were taking place simultaneously—the frequency of battles naturally increased the number of orc prisoners.
All around, the orcs' final words echoed, spoken in the common tongue:
"Spare me, human, I'll work for you!"
"Sooner or later, the orcs will trample your lands!"
"Orcs will never be slaves!"
Their voices were rough, like the howling wind—some begged, some cursed, some raged.
Orcs had their own language, but over the long years, a common language had developed, allowing humans and orcs from various countries to communicate. However, due to their unique anatomy, their version of the common language sounded much heavier and more bizarre than that spoken by humans.
It was like the difference between standard speech and a regional dialect.
Although, to the orcs, human speech probably sounded strange as well...
Snap!
About ten meters away, a Minotaur that had just been cursing was beheaded, its blood splattering onto the tall, imposing executioner. But he seemed unfazed, casually wiping the blood from his face and spitting.
"I've always hated you Minotaurs. I'll take you down one by one!" he muttered.
He glanced at Rhett as he passed by and offered a simple, friendly smile.
Rhett returned the smile before continuing on his way.
"Father, you're not on a mission?" Telles, looking slightly fatigued, said in surprise when he saw Rhett approaching.
"I just completed a mission. I'm free for now but have to go on patrol later tonight," Rhett replied, smiling. "How does it feel to execute orcs?"
"It's... not bad!" Telles's eyes lit up. "It was tough at first, but after doing it a few times, there's a certain satisfaction in watching these orcs, who are much stronger than me, helplessly howl before me!"
He then scratched his head and, glancing at the large, armored knights around him, added sheepishly, "But I have to thank these officers. They've given me so many opportunities to practice, even letting me take their targets."
"Oh?" Rhett glanced at the four black-armored knights behind Telles. After a moment of thought, he pulled out four bottles of Boiling Potions and a pouch filled with gold coins, generously saying:
"Thank you all for looking after my son. These are just small tokens of my appreciation. I hope you'll continue to help Telles build his courage."
Originally, Rhett had intended to save these potions for Tuck, but he changed his mind. It was more worthwhile to offer these as a gesture of goodwill, ensuring that Telles would continue to be well looked after, helping him accumulate destiny points more quickly.
This was a far better investment than four potions!
As he spoke, Rhett subtly released his spiritual energy.
An invisible force radiated outward.
The four knights immediately stiffened. Three of them were second-tier knights, and one was a third-tier knight. Every fourth-tier individual they had encountered had been their superior.
Originally, these knights were used to dealing with orcs, who were rougher than themselves, and had grown tired of it. So, when they finally encountered a fresh-faced young recruit, they found it refreshing and decided to show him some special care. They never expected that his father would turn out to be a powerful Tier 4 Magister!
Now, as they looked at Rhett, their gazes were filled with respect. Initially hesitant to accept the gifts Rhett offered, they eventually took them under his firm insistence and warm persuasion.
Returning to his quarters, Rhett wasted no time. He sat down and immediately activated the system.
[Would you like to initiate a Real Simulation? Each simulated day will consume 1 Destiny Point.]
"Yes!"
Rhett exhaled slowly and entered a state of meditation—his intention was to consume part of his over 300 Destiny Points to test how much it would take to break through his bottleneck.
He ran the simulation over 300 times.
When his Destiny Points dwindled to just 50, which he kept as a reserve, Rhett finally opened his eyes, concluding the last simulation.
[Real Simulation Complete. Please select one attribute to retain.]
[1. Constitution]
[2. Battle Energy]
[3. Mental Strength]
"I choose Mental Strength!"
With that decision, the screen vanished. Though only a minute had passed in reality, Rhett had mentally lived through over 300 days!
The progress in chipping away at the bottleneck in his mind was noticeable.
Taking a deep breath, Rhett's eyes grew more contemplative. A few minutes later, he calmed his mind completely.
Reflecting on the experience, Rhett had consumed 321 Destiny Points, equivalent to 321 days of uninterrupted meditation. Now, as he carefully assessed his mental state, he realized that the bottleneck blocking the expansion of his Mental Strength had indeed weakened, though only slightly.
Based on the ratio of progress to effort, Rhett estimated that it would take another seven or eight rounds of such simulations to completely break through the obstacle.
"In other words, I still need over 2,000 Destiny Points?" Rhett thought to himself, feeling the weight of this realization.
In real terms, this would mean spending seven to eight years in constant meditation, doing nothing else.
Given the constraints of real life, where uninterrupted meditation wasn't feasible, the actual time required would likely double.
Rhett considered this estimate and found it to be fairly realistic.
At the Magister level, those without superior talent or ample resources often spent 30 to 50 years progressing through a single small stage.
However, Rhett had already gathered 24 potions, solving the issue of resource scarcity for enhancing his Mental Strength. Now, he just needed to focus on accumulating enough Destiny Points to break through the bottleneck.
With this realization, Rhett's mind eased a little.
"Yes, I've already gained so many advantages—there's no need to be greedy. Unchecked desires will consume a person in the end..."
He calmed himself and resumed his meditation.
As night fell and the waxing moon ascended into the sky, Rhett led his team out again, heading toward the Blood River.
Though the Blood River nearly circled the entire canyon, years of warfare had divided the military camp into specific sections, each guarding crucial points along the river.
"Destination: Area 25!" Rhett ordered his team.
Two columns of soldiers followed Rhett, marching toward the western moon.
The terrain of the canyon was complex, and the 25th area that Rhett was heading to was a small valley, resembling a stone trough wedged between two rolling hills. A pale red stream flowed through the boulders at the valley floor. To the right was a steep, hundred-meter-high cliff, and to the left, a dark slope rose ominously in the night.
Any area of the Blood River designated and segmented by the military camp wasn't an ordinary, flat, and open section—those areas were easier to patrol and defend.
This particular section had a narrow but deep stream flowing through the small valley, flanked by steep cliffs and abundant rocks, making it an ideal spot for concealing movements.
As the sound of the stream grew louder, the soldiers' footsteps became quieter.
Finally, Rhett raised his hand and signaled for the team to halt. They obeyed immediately, stopping in their tracks.