Two days later, when the spoils were presented before Durimbar, the dwarven craftsman, he indeed exhibited considerable excitement and elation. He immediately opened the crates and retrieved his long-stored wheat beer, indulging himself with hearty drinks.

"See, see what I've been saying!" Durimbar proudly declared to his wife. "I knew these plundered goods would be sorted out sooner or later. I didn't misjudge anyone! Now we can cross out that mark of resentment in the ledger, the sooner, the better!"

"Which mark?" his wife inquired.

"Well, the one from two months ago, on the 16th. There's no need to cross out the others. There's still plenty of resentment owed from those, and one day I'll send them all back to their rightful places."

"Lord Durimbar, we..."

"Ah, it's you, mercenaries. You've done a fine job."

Durimbar turned around, pointing with his stubby fingers at his shelves. "Go ahead and pick whatever you want from here. You can choose twenty items as promised between me and that lad, Avi. Anything beyond that, forget about it. I've made it clear!"

"You can rest assured; we're people of integrity."

Airen began to sift through the shelves, selecting quality equipment, while Durimbar engaged in small talk with Manid as a way to pass the time.

"I never expected you to come to Middenheim at a time like this," Durimbar said, downing mug after mug of wheat beer. "Toddbrung is mustering his forces lately, and few human mercenaries dare to roam around in these parts in the face of war. Haha..."

"Toddbrung should be referring to Margrave Boris of Midden. This dwarf is clearly drunk, speaking so recklessly," Manid thought, "But this might not be a bad thing. I can use this opportunity to gather useful intelligence."

"Who is this war directed against?" Manid cautiously asked. "We haven't heard any news."

"Ah, of course, you wouldn't hear any news now. But rest assured, Toddbrung will send someone to find you sooner or later. And knowing him, you'd better agree to his terms."

Durimbar gulped down more beer, his intoxication gradually taking hold, though he remained coherent.

"Do you know why I have so few people here? It's simple. Once the war breaks out, you mercenaries can't run away! Those softies from elsewhere would have fled upon hearing the news long ago. Hmph, I knew these bearded fellows aren't trustworthy; they can't be relied upon!"

"Are you suggesting that the Margrave might hire mercenaries to bolster his army?" Manid probed.

"He's going to war against those green scraps up north! Ah, how I wish I could join their army and crush a few orc skulls with my crossbow and hammer!"

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"Well, you can hire mercenaries like us. You see—craftsmen as skilled as you are valuable assets, whether in human society or in dwarven fortresses. Of course, you shouldn't dirty your hands with those greenskins or orcs; they're filthy and inferior species fighting with their lives. But we're different. We're brothers who work for money."

"Well, that makes sense... in a way."

After hesitating for a moment, as if making a firm decision, Durimbar slammed his cup on the table. "That settles it then! As long as you bring enough commendable spoils here, I'll pay a hefty price for them, I promise!"

Under the influence of alcohol and flattery, the dwarven craftsman lost his senses and committed a grave mistake.

This commitment would leave him plenty of time for regrets later, but for now, he hadn't realized. As it turned out, Manid's intelligence, eloquence, and bargaining were not in vain; it was all worth it.

By the time they returned to the camp, Avi praised Manid's actions, which puzzled Rafe.

"Boss, isn't this kind of work done for free? We've got land and people now, so why bother with this kind of hassle?"

"Hassle?"

"Yeah, just like that idiot named Kees before. If he wants to give us money, he will. If he doesn't, what else can we do? It's like working for free for nothing in return, it's a loss."

"Because he's a dwarf," Avi explained with a smile. "For dwarves, the most important things are reputation, wealth, skills, and age. There's a saying among them: 'No amount of gold can buy back lost reputation, no amount of skill can repair ruined honor'."

"Boss, how do you know so much?" Rafe marveled. "You even know dwarven sayings."

"I have my ways," Avi continued, staring at the information displayed on the panel by the 'Lore' skill. "Basically, as long as he promises to pay us a considerable price and states it as a commitment, he cannot fail to fulfill his promise, otherwise he cannot continue to live in the dwarven clan."

"Dwarves are different from humans; this is ingrained in their values," Avi said. "In short, Manid did very well. In the future, we will at least solve the problem of losses, which is not a small expense."

After the last battle, Avi used the system and panel to confirm the extent and number of equipment losses. The astonishing answer was that even without counting the losses and lost wages from personnel injuries, just repairing or replenishing damaged equipment would cost around three hundred gold coins.

Despite having Dulinba's backing, without Manid in the future, they would definitely not be able to engage in long-term battles with the orcs. Just this loss alone was not something the mercenary group could currently afford.

"So, the key is still to make money."

Facing his three companions who followed him into the tent, Avi issued the future command policy: "Three goals: make money, recruit people, survive."

"But boss, I have a message from Dulinba." Manid's words caught Avi's attention, and he immediately continued, "Middenheim is preparing for a war with the northern greenskins, and they may recruit us for help."

"Northern greenskins... the Leafbreakers tribe," Avi said with a serious face. "This is not an easy task. At the same time, it's also an opportunity. There are more places to make a profit in large-scale army battles, but..."

"But the premise is that we're not dead yet, right? Boss, I have a way, see if it works. I've recently discovered that those greenskins aren't completely incapable of negotiating. As long as we discuss with them and persuade them to pick fights with those tougher guys, we can—"

"There's a big guy here, let's ignore him." Avi joked, then continued, "Anyway, I've decided to take this risk if the opportunity arises. What do you guys think?"

...

The three companions looked at each other, none of them wanting to express their judgment.

"Everyone should know that this world is despairing, but we all need to fight. How do we survive in a desperate world? Only by constantly gambling. Once we had nothing, relying on two bold gambles to develop to where we are today, now we have confidence, and one gamble is not enough to make us lose everything. Anyway, we can still come back here and create our own power and story again."