"Manid told me you found some decent blacksmiths. Why didn't you tell me about it?"

While the team members were busy packing their gear, Avi approached Airen, who was alone arranging the horse gear, and asked, "I never knew about you finding the blacksmiths."

"Ah! Your Grace."

Airen was clearly taken aback by the sudden conversation. He immediately dropped the reins, faced Avi, and apologized, "I was planning to surprise Your Grace, so I—"

"This isn't like you," Avi interrupted him. "What happened? Who are these blacksmiths?"

After much hesitation, Airen finally mustered the courage to bow to Avi.

"...Forgive me, Your Grace. I lied just now." Airen sighed heavily and pointed outside the camp, saying, "It's about those blacksmiths. They... they asked me not to tell you about this, and I'm considering it now."

"Tell me what's going on," Avi said, feeling a headache coming on. He pressed his temples with his hand and continued, "We'll discuss the rest later. Right now, I just want to know about the condition of those blacksmiths."

"Yes, Your Grace."

As if to make up for lying to Avi, Airen quickly and comprehensively described the story of the female blacksmith and her apprentices.

"Well... a female blacksmith, who lost her husband in the war, despondently chose to seek refuge here," Avi pondered with his chin in hand for a moment. "It's quite a common war tragedy, but it shouldn't be happening here."

"That's exactly what I thought, which is why I didn't report this matter to you," Airen said. "Her accent is typical of Midlanders, so I believe her decision must be due to something extremely serious, such as..."

"Life-threatening circumstances, or an attempt to conceal something," Avi turned and walked towards the center of the camp. "Regardless, we'll deal with this matter after we return."

"I'm deeply sorry, Your Grace..."

Watching Avi's departing figure, Airen solemnly performed a prayer according to the etiquette of the Sigma faithful.

"Boss, I forgot to tell you about this sword earlier." Manid jogged over to Avi's tent with a finely decorated longsword. "This is the one Durinbarto gave me to pass on to you when we went to Midenheim last time."

"Durinbarto? Let me see."

Avi took the sword handed to him by Manid. As soon as he held it, he sensed its extraordinary qualities—lightweight yet substantial in weight, the perfect balance of Dwarven craftsmanship without appearing overly soft, which only reinforced the sword's chilling intent towards enemies.

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Avi drew the sword from its sheath and swung it casually a few times, completely satisfied with its feel. The sharpness of the blade didn't need validation—it effortlessly chopped off the wooden corner of the table with a gentle swing.

However, when he was about to sheath the sword, he noticed several mysterious runes on the blade, shrouding this exquisite weapon in a layer of mystical ambiguity.

"It seems this is no ordinary human warrior's sword. Did Durinbarto mention anything else?"

"No, Boss. He only told me that there was something we needed to do, and this sword was his goodwill. Of course, whether we agree or not to cooperate, the sword is his gift to us."

"It seems like it's not an easy task."

Avi closed his eyes and pondered what kind of job the Dwarven craftsman would give him. After considering for a moment, he gave up: Dwarven and human ways of thinking were inherently different, and pondering here was pointless.

"Never mind. I'll deal with this matter when I go to Midenheim later. Manid, don't take people out for trading while we're away. Just wander around here and maintain order in the vicinity."

"I understand, Boss."

Fifty minutes later, under Manid's watchful gaze, 150 mercenaries formed a line and left the camp. Their destination was the location marked by Manid, where the escaped herd was located, a tall mountain standing by the river.

The destination was not far from the camp. The mercenary group set off at seven in the morning and arrived here just at noon. Two questions lay before Avi: should they launch a direct assault or send scouts first and let the team eat lunch before engaging in battle.

This multiple-choice question didn't trouble him for long. Avi ordered Airen to lead a few cavalrymen to scout ahead and to open fire immediately if necessary to report the enemy's position.

As for the others, they were to drink water and eat dry rations on the spot.

"Captain, the terrain here is not good." Resarit approached Avi with a piece of dry bread. "There are sparse shrubs around the mountain, a river behind it, and the vegetation gets denser the deeper you go. However, on the side with a clear view, we don't see any traces of the orcs' activity."

"I was mentally prepared for this situation before we came." Avi chewed on his bread. "Orcs may fight erratically, but they aren't stupid. Since they ran here as deserters, it must be a place suitable for them to hide and cause trouble."

"That's natural. So, how do we plan to attack here?"

"Attack... why should we attack?" Avi scrutinized the terrain and the map in front of him. "Since we can't 'go in', let's find a way to make them 'come out'. Isn't that simple? Just like Maximilian's tactics."

"But the enemy is not an organized army with a purpose, only deserters. They ran here just to survive, while our goal is to wipe them out and rescue the hostages."

"You're right, which is why I have a way to lure them out and corresponding tactics." Avi smiled confidently. "Just like fishing, as long as you get the fish out of the water, you don't have to fear its abilities."

Avi leaned close to Resarit and whispered a few words. Resarit nodded repeatedly, but threw out a question after listening.

"Who will be the most dangerous bait? The most dangerous and important role."

"Of course, it's me." Avi swallowed the bread in his hand in a few bites, brushed off the crumbs from his body, and drew the sword given to him by Durinbarto. "No one is more suitable than me."

"A good sword." Resarit looked at the dazzling blade in the sunlight. "It looks like Dwarven craftsmanship. Does it have a name?"

"To some extent, it's customized." Avi said, recalling the time when Durinbarto took his hand and sword to examine it closely and praised and criticized the sword greatly.

"Do swords need names?"

"Of course, a good sword deserves a name specially bestowed upon it. For soldiers and warriors, weapons are the best companions."

"Then... let's call it Firebrand."

"What?!"

"Firebrand." Avi said, jumping onto his horse. "Resarit, prepare as I told you. I'm going to knock those orcs' heads with Firebrand!"