"This is the Losangi Trading Company's storage facility?"
"Yes, my lord. Look from here to the distance—these round stone buildings stretching far and wide are all granaries belonging to the Losangi Trading Company. There are reportedly nearly five hundred of them. The brightly lit building at the far end is the main gate. Not far from here, those buildings are the Losangi Trading Company's ale-brewing workshop. Almost all the ale in the Commercial Alliance is supplied by them—they're the largest ale supplier." Lenmod replied.
"That's strange. Why aren't there any guards posted around these granaries? Look over at the main gate—people coming and going, lights blazing, and patrol guards carrying torches. Over here, aside from this perimeter wall, there isn't even a single sentry. Isn't the Commercial Alliance facing grain shortages and high prices right now? Doesn't the Losangi Trading Company worry about their granaries being robbed?"
"My lord, could it be that the granaries here are already empty? If there's no grain stored, no one would bother guarding them." Lenmod thought for a moment and said.
"Perhaps. Let's go in and take a look."
The two climbed over the wall into the granary compound and crept behind one of the round stone buildings. The stone structures had no windows or doors, standing four to five meters tall with a diameter of roughly five meters—standard granary design on the Galentea Continent. Beyond the above-ground structure, the granaries extended about three meters underground. Each could typically store over a million jin of grain, with access through the roof for both storing and retrieving.
"There's a musty smell." Lenmod sniffed the air.
Lorist nodded. "Yes, the mildew smell is quite strong. Let me climb up and take a look."
Lenmod grabbed Lorist's arm. "My lord, wait—it'd be easier to just cut a hole in the wall."
He drew his sword and channeled his combat force, the brilliant sword light flashing as he drove the blade into the stone wall. The spot faced away from the main gate, so no one would see the glow. With a forceful circular motion, he pulled outward, and a large chunk of stone crumbled away, leaving a hole in the granary wall. Immediately, grain stored inside began pouring out through the breach.
"It's wheat..." Lenmod grabbed a handful, examined it closely, and cheered. But he quickly tossed the wheat away and jumped back. "Damn it all—this wheat is completely moldy..."
Lorist covered his nose. "The mildew smell is overpowering. I can't stand it."
"Now I understand. No wonder I kept seeing the Losangi Trading Company hauling cartloads of lime in from outside. I thought they were using it for warehouse disinfection and cleaning. Turns out they've been soaking this moldy wheat in lime water, then rinsing it with clean water, so they can brew ale from the moldy grain. Damn it—I'm never drinking ale again." Lenmod suddenly realized.
Lorist thought for a moment. "Now I know why there are no guards here. Obviously, no one would bother stealing moldy wheat, so granary security has been neglected, which is why it's so quiet. The granaries up front with guards must be where they keep the edible grain they sell. Here's what we'll do—Lenmod, you open holes in all the granaries here and pour out the moldy wheat. I'll go set fires up front. Once the fire spreads and rescuers come flooding into this area, the Losangi Trading Company's scheme of brewing ale with moldy wheat will be exposed right in front of everyone. Then we'll see how they handle that."
"Yes, my lord. Be careful."
"Don't worry. You watch yourself too. The granaries storing this wheat all have the character for 'wheat' on their roofs—there are nearly a hundred here. You need to work fast. I'm heading to the front."
This was the southern outskirts of
Lorist had brought Lenmod here specifically to set fires. Being cornered at the Doslaeg Grand Hotel by civilians incited by the Losangi Trading Company had left him seething with the urge to slaughter his way out. However, with so many women in his party on this trip to Morant City, and with the safety of their three allied families to consider, he had forced himself to swallow his anger. Now that he'd slipped out of the hotel, he intended to teach the Losangi Trading Company a lesson. You have too much grain? You used your grain to rally civilians to besiege the hotel and spout lies? Then I'll burn your granaries and see what you can do without your grain!
Lorist crept to the front, less than thirty meters from the main gate, hiding behind a temporary wooden warehouse. He drew his sword and cut a hole in the wooden wall, reaching inside to feel—sacks upon sacks of potatoes, each as big as a palm. From the main gate came a commotion as another convoy of carts entered the compound. Several guards directed workers to unload sacks of potatoes from a temporary wooden warehouse onto the carts. Judging from the conversation between the caravan manager and the guard captain, these potatoes were being delivered to the Doslaeg Grand Hotel as payment for the civilians...
Hearing this, Lorist's resolve hardened, and fury surged through him once more. He abandoned all pretense of hiding, pulled a flask of fire oil from the large bag on his back—one of Lenmod's preparations—lit the fuse at the flask's mouth, and hurled it at the wooden wall of a nearby temporary warehouse. The wall began to burn...
"Hey! What are you—someone's setting a fire!" The rising flames quickly caught the guards' attention, and they spotted Lorist calmly lighting fire oil flasks and tossing them at the granaries.
Fighting for his life, Lorist continued his arson.
After the guards from three waves of granaries lay dead on the ground, the remaining hundred or so cart drivers, laborers, and guards who had been preparing to fight the fire quickly broke. When a few unlucky souls splashing water from wooden buckets onto the granaries were cut in half by Lorist's sword, every surviving person dropped what they were holding and stampeded toward the main gate. In their eyes, Lorist—in his black clothes, black pants, and black mask—was nothing short of a demonic killer. Over two hundred granary guards had been slaughtered without the slightest effort on his part, one life per swing, absolutely no mercy shown.
Lorist had no interest in chasing the fleeing workers. Setting fires was his purpose here, and besides, the brief slaughter had already relieved most of his anger. Now he just needed to ignite the remaining granaries and head back to the Doslaeg Grand Hotel to arrange everyone's breakout. He was certain the great fire would be visible across half of Morant City, which might even make the escape easier.
"My lord, my lord—I've only managed to dig fifty or sixty holes so far! How have you already started such a massive fire..." Lenmod stared in shock as granary after granary behind Lorist burst into flames, the fire spreading until it merged into a single inferno, thick black smoke billowing straight into the sky.
"Move it! Forget about the holes—if we wait any longer, we won't be able to get out ourselves." Lorist grabbed Lenmod and ran. The air had already turned scorching hot, with occasional sparks landing around them.
They vaulted the wall and raced back to the carriage. Lorist untied the reins and turned it around. "Lenmod, you take the reins. Just get me near the Doslaeg Grand Hotel. After that, go check if my arrangements from this afternoon are in place. I'll start the breakout as soon as I get back."
"Got it, my lord." Lenmod took the reins and cracked them. "Hyah!" The carriage sped off.
They soon arrived near the Doslaeg Grand Hotel. The crowd besieging the hotel was all craning their necks to look south, where the sky blazed with fire. Even from here, they could see the thick smoke—a testament to the enormity of the blaze.
Lorist jumped off at a corner, then stumbled toward the crowd around the hotel, putting on an exhausted act while shouting, "Everyone, go fight the fire! The grain warehouses are on fire! If no one puts it out, there won't be any food for anyone! Hurry, go fight the fire!"
Most of the civilians besieging the hotel had been waiting for today's payment—five jin of potatoes that still hadn't arrived. Coupled with the fire to the south, a sense of unease had been building. When they heard Lorist's shouts, panic set in. If the granaries burned and the grain was destroyed, wouldn't their whole day of standing here be for nothing? The first few dozen people immediately sprinted south toward the Losangi Trading Company's granaries. Once they started running, the crowd behind them followed due to herd mentality.
Lorist kept shouting in an altered voice, "Go fight the fire! Save whatever grain you can—bring some home and you can last a few more days..."
This shout awakened even those who hadn't intended to go. Right—if they fought the fire, they could grab some grain for themselves. Once these granaries burned, grain prices would certainly rise again tomorrow. Going to the scene now might let them swipe some food to take home. Soon every civilian besieging the hotel was running south, leaving only four or five hundred Losangi Trading Company guards in front of the Doslaeg Grand Hotel.
Lorist had already slipped inside the hotel. He rushed back to his quarters and ordered, "Reidi, get the hotel to prepare carriages immediately—as many as they have. Everyone pack up. We leave in half an hour!"
The Doslaeg Grand Hotel had seven carriages available, plus several dozen riding horses. Lorist placed Dina and her two companions in the first carriage. The second carried Count Kenmais and his two handmaidens. The third was stuffed with
Great Swordmaster Hughes sat in the first carriage, while Josc perched on the luggage rack at the back of the second. Lorist trusted that with his divine archery, the first four carriages would be well protected. If they encountered an obstruction and had to make a difficult choice, the last three carriages carrying handmaids and luggage could be abandoned—a last resort. Reidi was in the third carriage. As for Baron Shahin and Baron Phelim, these two Gold Knights were tasked with flanking the third and fourth carriages on either side. The remaining guards followed behind.
Just as Lorist was about to charge out of the Doslaeg Grand Hotel on horseback, he found Mike the Great Swordmaster of the Miladas family blocking his path. Mike's expression was grave. "You set that fire?"
Lorist raised an eyebrow. "What if I did? What if I didn't? Are you going to keep us here?"
Mike let out a deep sigh. "I'm only telling you that once you pass through that gate, your safety has nothing to do with our Miladas family. I just checked—the Losangi Trading Company's Homer Tang is still out there. He's a Second-Class Great Swordmaster. Even if your Great Swordmaster can hold him off, the Losangi Trading Company still has four or five hundred guards behind him. If they all rush you at once, you'll be hard-pressed to defend yourselves. You'd be better off staying here and waiting for the Seven Giants to return. They'll give you an explanation.
Fight your way out, and your fate is uncertain—especially with so many family members in tow..."
"I'm sorry, but Northland nobles don't have the habit of placing their lives in someone else's hands. We come from the wilderness—battle is our nature, and dying on the battlefield is the glory of every Northland noble. Our
Mike the Great Swordmaster gave Lorist a long look, sighed once more, then waved his hand and stepped to the side. The two guards at the gate pushed it open.
The Losangi Trading Company's Homer Tang the Great Swordmaster had long been prepared. He had arranged four to five hundred company guards into five rows, completely blocking the passage from the Doslaeg Grand Hotel's gate to the main road. When the fire erupted to the south, he'd sensed something was wrong—especially when the civilians besieging the hotel all ran off to fight the fire, he became certain the Northland nobles trapped inside would seize the chance to escape. But with him, a Second-Class Great Swordmaster, on the scene, he would make sure those rustic nobles from the North would be sorely disappointed...
Lorist spurred his horse out through the hotel gate and charged straight at the enemy formation arrayed across the passage. At the front, a bearded man drew his sword, revealing golden sword light, and bellowed, "Dismount and kneel in surrender, and you'll be spared!"
"Spare this!" Lorist cursed, then drove both heels hard into the horse's flanks. The golden spurs on his boots sank into its belly, and the horse screamed in pain and leaped forward, charging straight into the crowd.
The men in the front ranks hadn't expected this move and scrambled to either side. The bearded man cursed and swung his golden-glowing sword in a downward diagonal slash, intending to cleave Lorist and his horse in two.
Lorist grinned, wheeling his horse in place and parrying with a horizontal block of his long sword. The blades clashed—and the bearded man's sword shattered. His massive head flew into the air, his bearded face frozen in an expression of disbelief, a jet of blood erupting from his headless neck. Lorist charged into the crowd, hacking and slashing, sending the Losangi Trading Company guards screaming and scattering in all directions. Not a single opponent could withstand a single swing of his sword. Their formation was thrown into complete chaos, and thirty to forty men had already fallen to Lorist's blade.
Suddenly, a streak of sword light blazed to life on Lorist's left, arriving in an instant like a rainbow— "Despicable!" Lorist roared. A Second-Class Great Swordmaster hiding behind those
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang...
After dozens of sword exchanges, Lorist had dismounted and now stood before his ambusher, a savage grin spreading across his face. "Second-Class Great Swordmaster... Homer Tang?"
...(To be continued.)