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Bait

A surge of strength coursed through the barbarian leader as he sprang to his feet, glancing back at the direction from which he had come. There was nothing in sight except for a few of his people, dragging their weary steps. Just as he was about to scold a subordinate for false reporting, he noticed the clansmen in his line of sight suddenly turn and flee. Their exhaustion seemed to vanish as they ran, leaving the leader with a sinking feeling. His heart sank further when he realised the trap.

"Damned Lockes," he muttered, gritting his teeth as he broke into a run. His subordinates had already grabbed him and started pulling him along. But the leader tried to push them away, desperate to run faster. His legs, weakened from walking all night and now stiffened by rest, refused to cooperate. Before long, the Locke infantry caught up with him. One of them kicked him to the ground, and soon the barbarian leader found himself surrounded.

Some of his men shouted in their native tongue, pleading for mercy if they surrendered. To his shock, the voices came from captured traitors—Locke soldiers who had once been barbarians. Adrian, effortlessly capturing dozens, had seen to it that any who resisted were swiftly dealt with. Compared to the brutal battles on the frontlines, capturing prisoners was relatively easy and safe.

By the time the morning had passed, Adrian had captured nearly 150 barbarians. The rest had either managed to escape or had been lost in the chaos. When Simon’s cavalry arrived, they were taken aback by the large number of barbarian prisoners.

"Adrian! Did you capture all of these?" Simon asked, his voice filled with awe. With such a haul, Adrian would no doubt be rewarded handsomely. Lord Derek’s generosity was well known.

"It was all thanks to the excellent planning of the thousand-man commander," Adrian replied calmly. The task, while a bit tiring, had been straightforward. His advice to Simon to continue searching for stragglers was meant to ensure that no opportunity was missed. Even if they couldn’t capture all the escapees, there were still likely some to be found.

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Meanwhile, Derek, far away in the small town, maintained his usual composure—a trait that Baron Palmer envied.

"Derek, you truly are a natural-born commander," Palmer said, though his words betrayed his impatience. He couldn’t help but worry about possible setbacks, despite the overwhelming odds in their favour. Derek chuckled. It wasn’t that he was calm, but rather, he had confidence in his plans. Whenever he felt doubt, he checked his data panel. As long as all his units were listed as active, everything was on track. Soon enough, the messenger arrived with good news. Had Simon not been delayed in rounding up prisoners, the good news would have come earlier.

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"Baron Palmer, please take a small force and guard the prisoners. Once His Excellency the Count arrives, I’ll move the operation forward," Derek said, outlining the plan. According to the Count’s orders, the two thousand-man units were meant to act as bait, luring the enemy and causing disruption, rather than advancing steadily. Palmer, however, rejected Derek’s offer of spoils.

"My family’s wealth is secure," Palmer said arrogantly. "What we need are military merits and land to establish ourselves as true nobles, not just rich merchants." Derek silently accepted the outcome. The wealthy were always admired, but they often made for the best allies. After a brief rest, Derek led the two thousand-man force deeper into barbarian territory, towards the heart of their camp. At the same time, Count Pereira had received the news and, realising Derek had moved forward again, calmly began to prepare the Second Legion for a measured response.

"This kid understands my strategy. He’s a daring adventurer. If he survives, he may very well earn a barony," Count Pereira commented, appreciating Derek’s initiative and courage. After all, not many could handle the pressure of such a role. Those who stood out would be rewarded—those who didn’t, would not.

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Derek’s sudden movements were a surprise to the barbarians, who had been least vigilant near the location of their base camp. It wasn’t until Derek had captured several smaller units and brutally defeated over a hundred men that they began to take notice. His aggressive actions had caused serious disruption. But Derek wasn’t finished. He seized a nearby town, reinforcing its defences with the prisoners, and continued to strike at smaller barbarian units, leaving them unable to react quickly enough. The barbarians’ lack of preparedness became increasingly evident. At that point, the barbarian commander ordered an immediate response.

"We may have underestimated the Lockes," he muttered, studying the map. He pointed directly at Derek’s position. "Send Enrique and his wolves to deal with these Lockes. And bring the troops back. The main army of the Lockes will be here soon."

Realising that the conquest of Ironwall City would be difficult, the barbarians had slowed their advance. Their aim now was to cripple Locke's northern defences and sever communication between the provinces. If they succeeded, they would pave the way for a new kingdom, one recognised by the three southern realms.

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