More than thirty soldiers, dressed in the uniforms of regular army, surrounded the village behind the encampment. They raised their weapons and shields to block the main passages. Meanwhile, a middle-aged man riding a limping horse leisurely trimmed his nails behind the infantry.

The inhabitants of the outpost, armed themselves, confronted them. Without a leader's command, they dared not attack recklessly. As soon as Avi emerged, they swarmed around, voicing their anger and dissatisfaction.

"Everyone, quiet down! Rafe, what's happening?"

"These guys arrived early with some people and encircled the villagers' tents, claiming to be collecting land rent from Middenheim. They also mentioned that a larger force was scheduled to pass through here, but I have a feeling he's more of a fool."

"Ah, I understand. Tell everyone that when they see me raise my sword, they should charge at them. But before that, I'll have a word with them. Also, make sure the greatswordsmen are positioned behind the spear wall to cover the flanks during the charge."

"Understood."

Observing Avi walking towards the incomplete watchtower by the camp gate, the rider finally halted his actions and urged his horse to move beneath the tower. Lifting his head, he asked, "You must be their leader, right? I remember seeing you when I was just a foot soldier."

"Your memory serves you well. After the knight captain died, you became a deserter, didn't you?"

Avi's direct question momentarily caught the middle-aged man off guard, but he quickly straightened his mustache and laughed heartily, "A mercenary daring to speak in such a manner to the envoy of the provincial army. You really hold yourself in high regard!"

"This is the arrogance of the provincial army, but something seems amiss." Avi thought, "Let's see what he's up to first, maybe we can extract some intelligence."

"I heard you've come to collect rent, but according to the orders I received from Margrave Boris, we're not obliged to pay any coins. This condition was part of the agreement for hiring us to defend this place in Middenland."

"But he's changed his mind." The middle-aged man sneered, "You're in Middenland, Lord Boris's words carry weight. If you're willing, you can appeal to the court in Middenheim, but you won't get anything."

"Is that so."

With a 'swish', Avi drew half his sword. He intentionally scraped the blade against the scabbard, creating a harsh and loud sound, nearly causing the soldiers behind him to charge immediately.

"Are you planning to defy the provincial army?!"

The middle-aged man hadn't anticipated the mercenaries to be so resolute, so he drew his rapier as well.

Upon hearing their leader draw his sword, the surrounding infantry began banging their shields with their sword hilts, creating a cacophony, intending to intimidate the mercenaries whom they deemed timid. This was a tactic they had agreed upon earlier.

However, in Avi's eyes, their actions only revealed their lack of confidence. Witnessing this scene, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pity for these people.

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"Here's your chance. You can leave now if you want. If you don't want to die, get out quickly. This isn't a place for your bravado, idiots."

"What?!" The middle-aged man, failing to deceive Avi and his group, grew enraged and shouted, "We're all free brothers now. You scum, if you don't pay up, you'll die! Brothers, tear down this dump!"

Encouraged by the deserter, the soldiers cheered and advanced with their shields. They were well-equipped, clad in iron armor and armed with swords and shields. In their eyes, the mercenaries without armor or wearing only leather armor were nothing but street thugs.

In the next instant, these deserters underwent a profound change of heart. Not only that, but they even found themselves questioning the very essence of existence.

Witnessing Avi's cold smirk as he raised his longsword, the gates of the camp slowly swung open. Behind them stood twelve Imperial halberdiers forming a formidable halberd wall, backed by seven gleaming greatswords.

Under the midday sun, these iron weapons sparkled with an icy gleam. Coupled with the iron armor adorning the mercenaries, one could easily envision the overwhelming psychological pressure this assembly would exert on the opposing forces.

It's worth noting that the deserters' perception of mercenaries was limited to those clad in leather or simple cloth, appearing as little more than slightly hardened peasants. Having already faced defeat, the sight of this unit instantly shattered their morale.

"Brothers, charge!"

Rafe brandished his greatsword, leading the charge with the spear wall advancing swiftly behind him, flanked by the greatswordsmen running alongside.

Despite being well-equipped, the deserters were merely Imperial swordsmen in skill. Their swords and shields proved feeble against the halberds and greatswords, rendering them wholly incapable of withstanding such a brazen assault.

The shield wall crumbled swiftly, leaving the deserters either dead or wounded. Most survivors lost their fighting spirit and courage, surrendering by discarding their weapons.

From atop the partially constructed watchtower, Avi took aim with his bow, targeting the fleeing deserter leader.

"Don't let that old codger escape!" Rafe dashed forward with his sword, but burdened by heavy armor, he stood no chance of catching up to the limping horse.

Swoosh

"Ah!"

An arrow found its mark in the deserter leader's waist, causing him to lose balance and tumble from his saddle.

"He's down, go get him!"

"Proficiency with weapons certainly has its uses." Avi lowered his wooden bow, feeling a mix of pride and satisfaction. "I felt remarkably comfortable using the bow for the first time, and to think I hit the mark just like that."

The mercenaries swiftly apprehended the deserter leader, while the surrendering and wounded were escorted back to camp. Severely wounded deserters beyond saving were left on the battlefield, assigned to the care of two rather unsympathetic halberdiers.

The injured deserter leader suffered a similar fate. First, he endured a thrashing from Rafe and the mercenaries due to his earlier arrogance. Then, as he was being escorted back to camp, he received another beating from enraged villagers.

Were it not for Avi and the mercenaries intervening, he would have likely been beaten to death. Fortunately, the arrow Avi had used wasn't particularly sharp, causing only flesh wounds and sparing him from a more gruesome fate.

After a brief respite, Avi instructed Rafe and a few mercenaries to collect all the equipment from the deserters, amounting to thirty-six sets of armor and sword shields. Regrettably, the limping horse made a swift escape after its master's fall, leaving Avi somewhat disappointed.

As for the battered deserter leader, under Avi's command, he was bound with straw ropes by the villagers and cast into the pigsty, to be dealt with once Avi had concluded the aftermath of the battle.

Through the branches of the fence, Avi inquired, "Which unit were you with before? The provincial army?"

"Uh, uh..." The deserter leader struggled to lift his head, his face smudged with pig excrement and mud. "You... know someone, cavalry... cavalry unit."

"Hmm, just as I suspected." Midenheim had withheld details of this defensive battle. Avi surmised that this man had at least been involved in the conflict, prompting him to ask, "How were you defeated that day?"

"Monsters..." The deserter leader gasped for breath. "They had monstrous heads, one hand could snatch a man whole!"