Chapter 20: The Baron's Rage
Late night, at the Baron's residence.
"Smack!"
A pair of pale hands slammed heavily on the table.
"Useless! You're all useless!"
The man cursed loudly, spittle flying.
His face was harsh, filled with gloom, his thin body wrapped in formal attire.
A small, intricate medal bearing the image of an eagle and sword was pinned to his chest. Those with knowledge would recognize it as the Northwind Eagle—the crest of the Lackman family.
His name was Todd Lackman, one of the lesser-regarded sons of the old duke, perhaps the twelfth. He had been granted a barony in a remote place.
Standing before him was Hart, a stout middle-aged man, once a slave trader who had since become a steward at the baron's estate.
"My lord, I had no choice…"
"So you're telling me that all the kobolds ran off, and the gold mine was abandoned?"
"No, no, let me explain…"
"I don't want explanations; I want gold! Gleaming gold! Without gold, I can't sustain this barony, I can't support the army, and I certainly can't compete with my dear brothers back in the family. All I can do here in this forsaken place is starve!"
Todd grew angrier as he spoke, finally kicking the man in front of him, completely disregarding any noble decorum.
Hart got up from the ground without a hint of resentment, saying only, "My lord, it all happened so suddenly. Half of the mercenaries we brought simply disappeared."
"According to those guarding the kobolds in the mine, their companions vanished without even a scream."
"There really is a monster in the mine!"
"And we know nothing about it—its habits, or why it suddenly attacked. Given the circumstances, to avoid further losses to your resources, I had no choice but to retreat."
Todd sneered, "That just proves you and your mercenaries are useless! If you were even a bit competent, you wouldn't have fled without even glimpsing the enemy."
Hart wiped the cold sweat from his brow and forced a fawning smile, "Of course, my lord. How could lowly commoners like us ever compare to you, the noble blood of the Northwind Eagle and a powerful spellcaster?"
Todd adjusted his collar, saying slowly, "That's more like it. Well said."
The baron sat back in his leather chair behind the desk, half-reclining with his fingers interlaced. "Since it's come to this, do you have any remedy?"
"I need you to provide me with a solution."
Relieved that Todd had calmed down, Hart exhaled deeply, saying, "My lord, we could request a few Eaglesguards from the duke to secure the mine. What do you think—"
"Eaglesguards?" Todd interrupted coldly.
"I can't believe you'd even think of that."
"Do you not realize—they're all spies for my father? Letting them into the mine would mean the gold would be lost to us completely!"
"It would just be shipped straight to Northwind Keep!"
Hart hurriedly amended, flustered, "My apologies, my lord. That was a trivial suggestion. Surely, with your wisdom, you have a far better plan. It's just…"
"Enough. If I don't see gold by next month, I'll go to the mine myself."
Todd cut off his excuses, fixing Hart with a chilling stare.
"Y-yes, my lord."
"My patience is limited. There won't be a next time, Hart. There really won't."
Todd's fingers drummed rhythmically on the table.
"Understood, my lord," Hart replied, bowing his head quickly, not daring to meet the baron's gaze.
"Look up, Hart."
"Do you really understand?"
Hart reluctantly lifted his head to meet the baron's eyes.
Todd's gaze was cold, a faint red glimmer in his pupils, looking not at a subordinate but rather at—meat on a plate.
"Yes… yes, my lord," Hart's voice trembled.
"Prepare yourself, and gather those useless mercenaries."
"Yes, yes."
"My lord, I'll take my leave."
After receiving the order, Hart left without hesitation, almost as if fleeing for his life.
"Huff, huff…"
Outside the door, Hart panted heavily. He knew he still had some use to the baron; otherwise, he wouldn't have escaped so easily.
Inside, Baron Todd Lackman adjusted his collar in front of the mirror, unconsciously licking his lips, revealing his unusually sharp teeth.
Another distinctive trait of the Lackman family.
...…
"Is this the place?"
The red dragon stood atop a high hill, gazing at the seemingly bottomless mine in the distance, with a kobold held in his claws.
"M-master, yes, this is the place."
Gold-Fang rubbed his head involuntarily, barely recovering from the dizziness of high-speed flight.
"Then take me in."
"Oh, my great master, I am but a humble kobold, this… this…" Cold sweat appeared on Gold-Fang's scaly forehead.
The mine was like a nightmare to the kobolds. Nearly all his kin had been devoured by that monster, and having barely escaped once, he dreaded returning.
Even with the red dragon's support, he still felt uneasy.
After all, a dragon wouldn't care about the life or death of a single kobold.
"What? You're unwilling?" Cassius asked.
"Of course I am willing, absolutely willing."
Sensing the dragon's displeased tone, the kobold hastily replied.
"Serving you is the greatest honor of my life, it's just…"
"Just what?"
"Just that… I need a little time to recall the path through the mine." Cold sweat dripped from the kobold's chin.
"Clip-clop, clip-clop…"
Suddenly, the sound of horse hooves interrupted their conversation, allowing the kobold to breathe a sigh of relief.
Looking down the road, several riders galloped towards them, each one wearing leather armor and carrying crossbows at their belts.
The red dragon crouched low, hiding his form as much as possible, and whispered to the kobold with a message spell, "Who are they? Do you recognize them?"
Peeking out, the kobold observed the humans' armor and carefully noted a few of their faces before speaking.
"Master, it's those slave traders who once enslaved us. Their leader… I remember his name is Hart."
"Human slave traders? Are they also here to claim the gold mine?"
"Master, these seem to be scouts. They had over twenty people before, including some Professionals. The main force is likely waiting behind," the kobold added.
"How convenient. They'll make fine pathfinders." Cassius's eyes narrowed.