Boom!
The enormous fortress gates opened. Ghislain and the knights entered the fortress leisurely.
In this place, no one checked anyone's identity. The law here was simple: no one stopped those who entered, and no one detained those who left.
Those who entered the fortress only needed to follow a few rules:
— Murder is prohibited within the fortress.
— No distinctions are made based on social status within the fortress.
— No one can forcibly drag another out of the fortress.
All other issues were left for the hunters to resolve among themselves.
The Kingdom of Turian constantly battled monsters and needed to recruit hunters. Recognizing the authority of nobles would disrupt the delicate balance that barely held together.
If nobles were allowed to kill hunters at will or drag them off as criminals, it would result in significant losses for the Kingdom of Turian.
'Hunters must die fighting monsters, even in death.'
With this stance, the Kingdom of Turian strongly opposed even foreign nobles imposing their will.
As a result, many criminals wandering the continent found refuge in the fortresses of the Shadow Mountains.
The inside of the fortress was no different from a typical city—except that it was filthier, shabbier, and stained with blood in many places.
"Ugh, this place is disgusting."
"It looks like a warzone."
"Stay here too long, and you'll catch a disease."
The knights, used to the clean and comfortable estates, clicked their tongues as they looked around.
The hunters' attire varied widely. Most wore standard armor, but some were equipped with gear made from monster bones or leather.
When they noticed the newcomers, the hunters gave Ghislain and the knights sharp, crooked glares.
These hunters exuded a ferocious aura, hardened by years of life-and-death battles with monsters.
"Hmmm."
Ghislain smiled at them, clearly enjoying the atmosphere. Such situations excited him; they provided a chance to stretch his muscles with a good fight.
The knights accompanying him were no less rough. They were far from ordinary knights—these men were as savage as the hunters.
"What are you staring at, you bastards?" Kaor sneered at the hunters, glaring back at them. The other knights did the same.
Had this been their mercenary days, they might have felt intimidated by the hunters. But now, after countless battles, they were far from the weaklings they once were. They'd become warriors so bloodthirsty they could be called human butchers.
"Heh, seems like we've got some nobles visiting."
"Why would they come to a place like this?"
"Their armor would fetch a pretty price, wouldn't it?"
Despite the sharp reactions from Ghislain's group, the hunters smirked, merely observing them.
The uniform armor the group wore hinted at a connection to the kingdom. Without confirming whether they were officially dispatched, the hunters refrained from acting.
Thus, a fight didn't break out—yet. Ignoring the hunters, Ghislain strode toward the central building in the fortress, followed by Kaor and the knights with smug expressions.
The central building handled hunter registration and required a signed agreement to abide by the fortress rules.
A Turian knight glanced at Ghislain's identification and remarked indifferently, "Noble status isn't recognized here. Even a lowly slave is equal to a count here. Do you agree?"
"I agree."
"We don't intervene in disputes. Do you agree?"
"I agree."
"Killing is prohibited. Accidents happen during duels, but murder is strictly forbidden. Do you agree?"
"I agree."
"Then, sign here. We'll register you as a hunter, and the agreement will be sent directly to the royal court."
Taking the document, Ghislain stamped it with his seal without hesitation. Here in this fortress, he was no longer a noble—just another hunter.
After receiving the signed agreement, the Turian knight gave final instructions.
"We're only here to ensure the fortress functions minimally. As long as you don't touch us or this building, we won't interfere. If you have issues with other hunters, resolve them yourselves. We offer no help."
"Understood. I don't have lodging yet. Can I leave my horses here for now?"
"Since it's your first time here, we can provide that convenience."
"Good. I'll find a place to stay and be back. We'll likely see each other often."
The Turian knight gave a sinister grin.
"Welcome to the lawless zone. I hope you enjoy your stay."
As Ghislain completed his registration and left the building, a rat-faced man approached him.
"You seem new here. Did you just register as a hunter?"
"I did."
The man smiled in satisfaction. The surrounding hunters also perked up, their eyes glinting.
Ghislain and his group were clearly not officially dispatched from the kingdom. The rat-faced man's expression turned bold, now unconcerned.
"Although this is a lawless zone, it's still a place where people live, right?"
"So?"
"Where people live, there are naturally 'laws and order.'"
"Oh, you're here to collect money?"
The man was momentarily flustered by Ghislain's bluntness but quickly recovered. Perhaps Ghislain had heard rumors about this place.
"Glad you're quick to catch on. There's an organization here called the 'Hunter Cooperative.'"
"What a ridiculous name."
"It was established to protect the rights of hunters. Joining is highly recommended. Of course, there's a small joining fee and monthly dues."
Ghislain rubbed his chin, then asked, "And who exactly do I pay this to?"
"The cooperative, of course."
"Who's in charge of this cooperative?"
"That would be Lord Donkard, the 'King of Ironcliff.'"
Ghislain nodded. There were so many "kings" in the world. His own nickname included the word "king," so why not a person?
Such schemes amused him, whether in his past life or now.
"What benefits do I get for joining?"
"Hehe, you'll be left alone and can focus on hunting monsters without interference."
The benefits were laughably meager. Ghislain didn't like such deals.
"Are you bandits?"
"What?"
"I can't tolerate bandits. I hate those who rob others by force."
"What nonsense—urk!"
Without waiting for a response, Ghislain punched the man. The rat-faced man tried to resist, but it was futile.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
"Urgh! If you touch me, the king of this place—"
"Bring him. I'd like to see the king's face."
"Spare me!"
The rat-faced man collapsed unconscious after just a few punches. Ghislain rifled through his pockets, taking a few silver coins, and sneered.
"This is compensation for the mental damage I almost suffered from an attempted robbery. Try living honestly next time."
The surrounding hunters stared in shock. No one had ever beaten someone so brazenly upon arrival, especially someone representing Donkard, the so-called "king" of this fortress.
Even the most ill-tempered would hesitate upon hearing the name "king." They'd gauge the situation before deciding to fight or negotiate.
But Ghislain had swung first without a second thought. His temper was something else entirely.
'Maybe he's fearless because of all his followers.'
'Donkard alone has over 300 men.'
'We're in for a good show soon. Donkard won't let this slide.'
The hunters all had similar thoughts. They didn't see Ghislain's knights as real knights. It was unthinkable for a great lord to bring fifty knights to a place like this.
'They're probably just rich mercenaries in matching outfits.'
If Ghislain's group had been smaller, the hunters might have joined the rat-faced man in picking a fight. After all, new arrivals always needed to be put in their place.
But fighting fifty men right now wasn't worth the risk.
Hearing the murmurs around him, Kaor leaned in and asked Ghislain in a low voice, "Are you sure about this? They seem to have a lot of people, and that Donkard guy sounds like the leader here."
"Are you scared?"
"I'm not scared!"
Kaor protested indignantly. He was used to territorial disputes; it was common in the mercenary world.
He wasn't avoiding a fight out of fear but caution. The so-called "king" likely had many followers.
Still, Kaor was confident he'd win if it came down to it.
Ghislain chuckled at Kaor's grumbling.
"Once they see who's stronger, they'll flock to our side. These lawless types only respect fists. Let's find lodging first."
The fortress had all the essentials of a regular city. Merchants visited to sell hunters what they needed, and retired hunters opened shops to make money.
Due to the risks and scarcity of supplies, prices were much higher than in other cities.
Ghislain confidently headed for the largest inn without asking for directions. The knights following him grew curious.
"How does the Lord know his way around here?"
"You even knew about hunter registration."
"Have you been here before?"
Ghislain nodded.
"I know this place well. I used to come to Ironcliff often."
In his past life, Ghislain's mercenary group frequented this fortress more than any other. It had the highest concentration of monsters.
Whenever they needed quick money, they'd sweep through the mountains. Ghislain even spent long periods training here.
He had fond memories of this place.
'And I met someone special here once.'
In the future, one of the continent's Seven Strongest would emerge from the Kingdom of Turian. Though not yet prominent, this individual would gain renown during the tribulation.
'If I get the chance, I'd like to test myself against him.'
Ghislain smiled contentedly.
Taking down Duke Delphine and preparing for the tribulation were his top priorities.
But fighting strong opponents was also important. This time, he wanted the title of the continent's strongest.
Watching his satisfied smile, the knights exchanged glances.
'The Lord really can't open his mouth without lying.'
'At his age, how can he have been everywhere and know everything?'
'It's probably just the head butler providing detailed intel.'
They respected Ghislain's skills and knowledge but were growing annoyed by his constant exaggerations.
They didn't dare call him out, knowing it would lead to "special training." Instead, they kept their mouths shut, finding it easier to stay quiet.
The inn they reached was large enough to accommodate over a hundred people. Though its exterior looked cobbled together and shabby, its size made it notable.
Ghislain nodded approvingly at the building.
"This is the biggest place. Let's make it our base."
Kaor nodded in agreement.
"Should we rent it entirely?"
"Let's go inside first."
As they entered, a gruff-looking middle-aged man yawned while polishing a cup. Around him, hunters lazily played cards or drank.
The inn's interior was filthy—dilapidated, dark, and crawling with rats and insects.
The hunters, however, seemed perfectly comfortable.
The innkeeper frowned as Ghislain's group filed in.
"Are you new here? We're not open for business, so get out."
Despite the presence of many hunters, the innkeeper claimed they weren't operating. Clearly, the place served as a base rather than a proper inn.
Ghislain tilted his head and approached the innkeeper.
"Not open, with so many customers?"
"We run this place however we like."
The innkeeper put down his cup, glaring at Ghislain. If these newcomers knew whose territory this was, they wouldn't have dared step foot inside.
Newbies were always troublesome. Annoying, even.
Just as he raised a hand to shoo them away, Ghislain spoke first.
"That's fine. We didn't come here for such petty matters anyway. We just came because this is the biggest place."
"Then why are you here?"
Ghislain smirked arrogantly, raising his chin to meet the innkeeper's gaze.
"Starting today, this place is ours."
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