The Mercenary Code of the Warhammer World:
1. Money is paramount, surpassed only by self-interest.
2. There's no comrade more reliable than the sword in your hand.
3. Everything is just about survival.
The wind howls, horses neigh, and people shout. As Aiv galloped on horseback, he never imagined that his debut battle as the leader of the Cheating Mercenaries would involve being chased by goblins.
"Boss, what should we do now?!" Rafe, riding alongside, asked loudly.
"We need to find a way to shake them off!"
Aiv gritted his teeth, thinking: If it weren't for those three damn orcs, how could he be chased by a bunch of snotlings! It all started ten days ago.
Eagerly opening the game to continue playing as the Warlord conquering the Old World with the full battle update DLC for Warhammer, he found himself suddenly plunged into darkness as the loading screen switched. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a dilapidated medieval village. The villagers' curiosity and inquiries were displayed before him in familiar words, as if from the game he used to be obsessed with, "Mount & Blade." The only difference was that he had become the protagonist of this game.
After some time, he realized he had arrived in the Warhammer world. The villagers, perceiving this strangely dressed young man who had seemingly fallen from the sky as deranged, shunned him.
He adopted a name suitable for this world: Aiv. In English, it means 'divine,' which also defined his role in this adventure.
Though his entry into this world as a 'god' wasn't smooth, he quickly made a good friend. When he was nearly starving, a youth named Rafe brought him food.
Simple-minded yet sincere, Rafe believed that this person claiming to be Aiv needed help, and it was his duty to assist this outsider.
Thus, Aiv was spared from starvation and gained a reliable friend. He discovered he could open panels at any time, just like playing a game, and conducted detailed research on this system.
According to the instructions, the system could bypass the learning process and time, directly enhancing one's abilities. In other words, the foundation of this system was the game system of "Mount & Blade."
There were also many hidden features that required him to complete certain achievements to unlock.
After experiments, Aiv found that it indeed functioned properly.
With this system as a foundation, Aiv decided to leave the village with Rafe, hoping to carve out his own territory in the vast world of the Warhammer universe, akin to playing "Mount & Blade."
The storyline closely paralleled that of "Mount & Blade": He had a companion and was about to start building his own empire from scratch.
They were located in the Old World, in the province of Middenland, on their way to Middenstag.
The world was chaotic and dangerous, with the Empire fragmented due to conflicts among its Elector Counts, Brettonia eyeing the Grey Mountains to the west, and vampires gaining power in Sylvania.
In addition, there were beastmen, greenskin orcs, goblins, and roaming skaven. The Old World was on the brink of turmoil, and for any ordinary Imperial civilian, it was either become a hero or be cannon fodder; they had no choice.
But Aiv stood apart.
Now, as the leader of the Cheating Mercenaries, he commanded twenty-four peasants on their maiden voyage. Their initial destination: the bounty board in Middenstag, where they aimed to amass a modest sum to seed their future endeavors.
Little did they anticipate that this nascent mercenary band would encounter formidable foes on the plains beyond Middenstag—a marauding horde of goblins led by three orc chieftains, now hotly pursued.
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"Help—!"
Echoes of distress rang out from behind Aiv. With swift resolve, he reined in his steed and turned back, finding several comrades already ensnared by the goblin horde, their peril palpable.
"Rafe, with me!"
Bellowing his command, Aiv yanked his mount to a halt, disregarding its snorts of protest, and spurred it back to rescue their beleaguered allies.
In a frenzied onslaught, Aiv and Rafe charged like avenging spirits, disrupting the goblins' designs and granting their trapped companions a fleeting reprieve.
To ensure the escape of their rescued comrades, Aiv and Rafe found themselves entangled in a desperate dance with the monsters, skillfully evading the orcs' advances while fending off the clamorous goblins.
Only after what seemed an eternity did the exhausted duo return to their makeshift camp, greeted by a panicked throng of peasants, their resolve on the brink of collapse.
These were no seasoned warriors but humble villagers from disparate hamlets, clad in tattered garb and wielding improvised weapons—a motley assortment of rusty machetes, makeshift swords, scythes, stones, and pitchforks.
As the two captains returned, the assembly fell into an uneasy silence, borne of fear and tinged with embarrassment.
Aiv uttered no words; collapsing almost immediately upon dismounting, he tasted the sickening tang of blood in his throat. His once-pristine boots, now stained with the vile ichor of goblins, emitted a fetid odor.
Clad in weathered yet resilient leather armor and boots procured cheaply from street vendors, armed with an expensive Imperial sword renowned for its lightweight and keen edge, Aiv's possessions were meager but serviceable.
Rafe's accoutrements mirrored Aiv's own. As he dismounted, he proffered Aiv a partially filled water flask.
After quenching his thirst, Aiv regarded the spirited Rafe and mused inwardly, "Truly, a constitution of twenty... a source of envy..."
A bolder peasant ventured forth, timidly inquiring of Rafe, "Vice... vice captain, where is the captain?"
"He has matters to attend to; let us wait a while," Rafe replied. "We will proceed to Middenstag thereafter, and you all should strive to toughen yourselves. Fleeing at the sight of a few goblins is beneath us!"
"But what of the goblins—"
"They won't catch up anytime soon," Rafe chuckled, gesturing at the now-empty saddlebags. "I threw down all the provisions, enough to keep them occupied for a while!"
"Agh?!"
A chorus of groans and lamentations erupted from Aiv and the assembled peasants, mourning the loss of sustenance. The atmosphere grew somber, as all present grasped the gravity of their predicament; it was now a matter of life and death.
"No wonder those goblins displayed such coordination in not pursuing us..." Aiv ruminated sadly. "It will take us at least half a day to reach Middenstag. Are we to endure hunger tomorrow morning and afternoon?"
Goblins, lacking in intelligence, possessed an inexplicable tenacity toward weaker foes like themselves. Even with their meager provisions, they would likely continue their pursuit until they were vanquished, rendering it nearly impossible for the mercenary band to escape the Morningstar Plains.
Contemplating this, Aiv sighed heavily, tracing a few gestures in the air. An interface, visible only to him, materialized, displaying various data and directives.
Emblazoned atop the interface was its name: the Mount & Blade System. Above it, a notification panel bore a line of cryptic text:
"After the recent skirmish, the party earned an additional 100 experience points."
"The defeat was not in vain," Aiv mused. "At least we've garnered some experience; a few among us should be poised for advancement."
The interface showcased the collective status of the party, identifying them as Summoned Peasants.
Aiv tapped a series of commands, upgrading seven Summoned Peasants to Militia. Their attributes, skills, and proficiency surged significantly, buoying the party's morale.
"This should offer some reprieve..." Aiv reflected wearily. "At least they won't bolt at the first sign of trouble."
Now, the full-body avatars of Aiv and Rafe graced the interface, alongside simplified metrics for each individual.
Aiv (upgradeable), Level 13, Constitution 9, Agility 10, Intelligence 16, Charisma 12
Rafe, Level 14, Constitution 20, Agility 7, Intelligence 5, Charisma 6
Utilizing his accrued experience, Aiv ascended in level, fortifying his constitution and agility—essential assets for the impending trials ahead.
"Rafe possesses formidable prowess; I must capitalize on this advantage," Aiv deliberated, sketching potential strategies in his mind. "Either evade the orcs and dispatch the goblins first, or confront the orcs head-on, compelling the goblins to flee."
Yet, with their ranks comprised solely of Summoned Peasants, morale was fragile, and even the seven Militia would struggle against the brute force of the orcs.
Which strategy was optimal remained uncertain to Aiv. Time was of the essence; as the leader, he must make a decisive choice swiftly, lest the consequences be dire.
At the very least, he resolved, they would not become skewered on goblin spits as soon as they set out.
Redirecting his focus to his own attributes, Aiv contemplated the skill points he had deliberately retained for such exigencies.
Skill points were a rare commodity, reserved for enhancing crucial abilities. Yet, acquiring them proved challenging, with one skill point granted only every three levels.
For this reason, Aiv had hoarded all his skill points, amassing four in total.
"It seems I can delay no longer..." Aiv thought grimly. "Further hesitation might well spell our demise here."