Chapter 74: Rampage
On a night like black velvet, the moon was in the misty clouds, dimly emitting a strange halo.
Malachor Megia, the ruler of the Tiger Party, was walking alone in the silent camp. He looked at the blue and white forked flag fluttering in the wind and felt quite upset for no reason.
He looked back in the direction of the distant Volantis, and everything melted into the black horizon. There was his hometown that he guarded, a place where everything was comfortable and peaceful.
The Golden Group might just be able to arrive at the next sunset. After the two sides signed the contract, he could lead his troops back to Volantis to eliminate the rebellion and participate in the election of the Archon with peace of mind.
Thinking of this, Malachor shook his head. Since the Tiger Party was defeated in the Bloody Century, the successors have been worse than the previous generation. The young people are as quiet and well-behaved as a toothless tiger, and they don’t even dare to participate in all his secret plans.
The breeze blew through the cracks in the camp. The night was getting colder and colder. Malachor shuddered and walked quickly towards the commander’s tent.
At this moment, he was thinking about the scene of Volantis's resurgence. He once again believed that he was leading it on the right path, even though this path was very difficult and rugged.
In the tent, Malachor lay quietly on the bed, falling asleep, dreaming of a terrible scene that he had never seen or even imagined in his life: he was trapped in the towering clouds, with a bottomless dark abyss under his feet, and it was dark all around. When he looked out to peek into the night, he saw the legendary archon Belisio died tragically at the hands of the giant and was eaten by the giant.
As soon as he dreamed of this, Malachor woke up immediately, his whole body became wet, and in a trance, he seemed to hear the giant's triumphant and terrifying laughter in the dark. He huddled in the blanket in fear, worrying whether this dream would come true.
The campfire glowed red in the quiet night, illuminating a small area, and there was deep darkness in the distance.
"How many soldiers are there here? In which tent is Malachor hiding?"
Mongol pulled up the rope tied around the mercenary's neck, made him kneel in front of him, and asked in the unskilled Valyrian language.
This slant-eyed mercenary from Myr, named Lentil Bazi, was the commander of the group of Windblown mercenaries he met on the road. He was good at using crossbows. In the whole battle, only this man left him with a scar, and he was also his only prisoner.
"Two thousand cavalry and infantry of the Windblown, and the slave soldiers of Volantis are stationed in the town of Veronthus, and the archon lives in the largest commander's tent." After explaining everything, Bazi pleaded to Mongol miserably: "I am willing to wait for your orders, please forgive me!"
"Forgive you, I think you must be thinking of something! You must have concealed an important secret from me!" Mongol turned behind the mercenary and raised the scimitar in his hands with both hands. ׺°”˜˜`”°º×
“No, no, I have told you all the information I know, Prince Tattered, Meris, Frog…” Bazi crawled on the ground, counting the various characters of the Windblown Group one by one, begging for the last chance to live.
“Well, I know, you are a bandit, a swearer, a murderer, I witnessed you robbing and killing thirteen merchants and farmers with my own eyes, now, I sentence you to death.”
Mungo confirmed the accuracy of the information, and did not listen to the mercenary’s meaningless excuses, and chopped off the other’s head with a knife.
Next, he tied his warhorse in the woods, carried a bag of weapons and walked straight towards the camp.
The dark night seemed to be painted heavily on the sky with endless thick ink.
Just as Bazi explained, because the stars and the moon were dim tonight, the number of soldiers patrolling the Windblown Group increased. They lined up in two rows, marching in neat steps, and walked back and forth in the camp.
Taking advantage of the night, Mengge sneaked in quietly. The fire flashed, and two daggers emitted a faint light, piercing the throats of two sentinels from behind. They trembled and fell helplessly.
But there were sentinels on guard in the gaps between two tents. The soldiers in the nearby tents soon discovered Mengge's unconcealable figure. They screamed and fled in all directions under the cold light of the daggers.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" The shrill voice echoed in the camp.
"I really don't have the talent of a thief."
Mengge thought to himself, he threw away the dagger in his hand, pulled out the scimitar tied behind his back, and ran as far as possible to the commander's tent before the enemy figured out what was going on.
He grabbed anything burning and threw it at the canvas tent, setting fire everywhere on the road, and thick smoke rushed straight into the night sky.
The mercenaries also rushed out of the tents with weapons in hand. The whole camp began to stir. They tripped over each other and fell to the ground. The scene was like roasting thousands of horses on fire.
"Fire, put out the fire!"
"Hurry up, hurry up! Where is the enemy?"
In panic, when the mercenaries found that there was only one enemy, they quickly became sober. They cursed and mocked with hoarse voices like iron and stone grinding, and laughed horribly. They quickly formed an offensive line and rushed towards Mongo.
Soon, the mercenaries who rushed to the front swung their swords, but were surprised to find that their swords could not cut the enemy's skin at all. The enemy was as indestructible as a warrior covered in steel armor.
The scimitars emitted a cold light in the dark. They had no choice. In panic, they wanted to abandon their weapons and tried their best to bypass the blade. They only had time to scream before they died.
Mungo rushed forward in the chaos, the color of blood blurred in front of his eyes. As long as he swung his sword, several people would die on the ground immediately.
The mercenaries who followed behind and surrounded him noticed something unusual. They heard the sound of iron colliding and saw people falling in front of them.
All the mercenaries gritted their teeth, knocked on their shields, stepped on the ground in a uniform manner, lined up in a tight formation, and slowly moved forward.
"Crossbowmen, get ready." A flaxen-haired mercenary in the team shouted, "Others, wait for him to get close, and stab his eyes."
When Mungo heard this shout, he immediately let out a violent roar, forcibly knocked away the enemies who were still surrounding him, and rushed towards the white-haired mercenary.
He knew in his heart that the crossbow posed a great threat to him. Now he could only be safe in a place with many people, and he had to mess up the entire camp as soon as possible.