A Tale of Strategies For the Throne

Just when the drunken bandit leader's unpleasant words made the always good-tempered Garlan almost get angry and start a hot bandit attack, the little leader who had escaped from urine not long ago rushed back in a hurry and grabbed him at the critical moment. The unreliable father scolded the shameless and booing subordinates and kicked them all back.

After finally getting rid of the drunken pig teammates, he had no time to relax. After thinking about it for a while, Sal irritably scratched his messy black hair, holding a tragic feeling. Determined to walk towards his own residence.

Although his intuition told him that approaching that man was a very dangerous thing, but thinking about what the 'girl' said to him before the man broke in, he felt that he had to ask clearly what those words meant no matter what. What's the meaning.

A place to stay...

The people of Fela have been lost in the desert for too long...

When he stepped into the house that originally belonged to him, the guards guarding outside the house did not stop him, but they all looked at him with extremely unkind eyes.

Thrall curled his lips and pretended not to see the anger in the guard's eyes.

But he could understand it, after all, the farce caused by his father and his subordinates' drunkenness really brought shame to the Fela gang.

Not to mention the guards, to be honest, if that wasn't his father, he would have wanted to beat that old guy up with his own hands.

And Sal can guarantee that if he hadn't arrived in time, just with the old guy's open mouth, the group of them would have definitely been in trouble.

Not to mention these guards who were not simple at first glance, Sal's intuition told him that the man in black might be able to take care of them all with just one move.

Sal pushed the door open and walked into his room. When he raised his head, he was startled.

He saw the man in black standing opposite, with his head slightly lowered, as if he was talking to the people around him.

There was a hint of softness in his sharp eyebrows, and the almost substantial hostility that emanated from him when we first met him was gone.

What shocked Sal was that it was the smaller man next to the man in black.

Garlan had taken off his thick cloak, and his long black hair was tied into a bunch at the back of his neck.

He wore a light sleeveless tunic, with a dark belt outlining his slender waistline.

Although his appearance was extremely beautiful, no one could mistake him at first glance. He was a young man.

No wonder——

No wonder he felt something was wrong.

When he first saw Garlan, he felt that although this 'girl' was indeed beautiful, she didn't look feminine at all for some reason.

At that time, he was still muttering in his heart for a long time.

Unexpectedly, it was not a woman.

……etc!

This means that he robbed a boy in the name of the wife of the bandit village? ? ?

Hold!

If those bastard subordinates knew about this, they would definitely laugh him to death.

Rub rub rub! His eternal fame!

Just as such a thought ran through his mind, the young man suddenly turned his head to look at him, his golden eyes slightly curved, his expression half-smiling, as if he had guessed what he was thinking.

Sal immediately calmed down and warned himself not to think too much.

Whether this person is a man or a woman really doesn't matter to him. After all, the ransom received by the fat sheep will not change regardless of whether he is a man or a woman.

And from the current situation, it seems that the sky-high ransom he expected is probably gone, and his most beloved gold coins are even missing.

After all, what he snatched back was not the fat sheep he thought, but more like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Sal took a deep breath, raised his head, and met the boy's bright golden eyes.

He asked: "What did you mean when you said give us a place to stay?"

He is a bandit leader who doesn't know how to beat around the bush or make insinuations. What they are best at is stabbing someone in with a knife and seeing blood directly.

Therefore, he was too lazy to be vague and asked the question that mattered most to him straight to the point.

Garlan smiled.

"More than four hundred years ago, there was a King Namair in Aaron Landis. He expanded his territory and fully doubled the territory of Aaron Landis."

He did not answer Sal's question, but instead told a historical story that seemed to have nothing to do with it.

"King Aaron Landis, who was highly praised for his expansion of the territory, left behind many legends, and most of these legends include the figures of ten knights who followed him in all directions."

"These ten powerful knights who loyally followed King Namair and fought for him finally received rewards commensurate with their achievements."

"When the war was over, King Namair gave these ten knights honorary titles, large sums of wealth, and fiefdoms."

"These ten knights established their own families because of this, and their glorious names were passed down from generation to generation and became immortal legends."

Garlan looked at Thrall.

This young gangster leader who had always seemed lazy, as if he didn't care about anything, a little bit arrogant, seemed to be generous with his time, knew how to advance and retreat at critical moments, and acted quite tactfully, stood where he was.

A pair of hanging eyes stared at Garlan, his face expressionless, but the corners of his eyes were slightly raised, and it was impossible to tell his emotions at the moment.

"Fakir."

When the name came out of Garlan's mouth, Thrall's eyes twitched uncontrollably.

"One of the ten knights under King Namair, a mountain knight who enjoyed great reputation and left a glorious name in the legend..."

Looking at the young horse thief leader unconsciously tightening his lips, Garlan paused and continued.

"...He would never have imagined that more than four hundred years later, his descendants would become notorious horse thieves."

It was an understatement, but it hit Sal's chest like a heavy hammer.

It hit him so hard that he could hardly breathe.

"Feqir, four hundred years ago, he fought in all directions to protect the people of Aaron Landis, but four hundred years later, his descendants have become gangsters who make a living by killing and robbing."

"We never kill innocent people!"

Sal retorted coldly.

"Everyone in the Saar Desert knows that we, the people of Feira, have always only sought wealth and no harm to human life!"

The young man tilted his head slightly.

"so what?"

he asks.

"You only seek wealth and don't harm people's lives, so you are not horse thieves?"

Thrall's breath hitched.

The young man's words hit the nail on the head and stripped off their disguises.

Just seek money, no harm to human life.

This is the last limit for the people of Fela.

This is their last stand as the descendants of that glorious knight.

... Even if this so-called persistence is so empty and powerless, it is their self-deception.

In the dead silence, Thrall clenched his fists hard.

He gritted his teeth and clenched his fingers so hard that his palms stung.

Fakir.

Mountain knight.

This glorious name given by King Mainar has been submerged in the river of history and has never seen the light of day again for hundreds of years.

These descendants do not even dare to say the names of their ancestors, and they only dare to call themselves Fira people.

But no matter how hard they tried to hide it, what they did still tarnished the glory of their ancestors...

Taking a deep breath of turbid breath, Sal opened his eyes. His eyes no longer had the usual lasciviousness, but revealed deep bitterness.

Fakir.

This ancestral name that has been attached to them for generations has been weighing heavily on their hearts, making them breathless.

His father had been drinking alcohol all year round, maybe because he couldn't bear the pressure.

The once glorious descendant of a great knight has become the most despicable gangster.

It was once a sharp sword in the hands of the king to protect the people, but now it can only make a living by plundering the people.

How sad.

"Your Excellency, although I don't know who you are, you must be of noble status and are unattainable for gangsters like me."

Sal, who had calmed down, looked at the boy opposite and said in a deep voice.

"A person like you not only found out the background of us Fira people, but also went out of his way to find an excuse to come here. What is the purpose?"

"I can't imagine that we people have any value that is worthy of the calculations of a noble person like you."

Garlan looked at him and raised the corners of his mouth.

"I have already stated my purpose."

"…………"

"I want you to dedicate this desert with your name to me."

"……I do not understand what you mean."

"It's very simple. I want you, and the people of Fela, to become the sword in my hand from today on, to sweep this desert for me."

Gallan said,

"I said, I don't want your money, and I will give you a lot of money."

"I give you five years. After five years, I want there to be no other gangs in the Saar Desert except you, the people of Fela."

Sal's heart palpitated.

"You want us to help you wipe out other bandits in the Sal Desert?"

"That's it."

Thrall frowned.

"Why choose us?"

Garlan laughed.

He raised a finger and his golden eyes slightly curved.

He said: "Because among all the bandits in the Sal Desert, only the Fela people only seek wealth and do not harm human lives."

"…………"

Sal was silent for a long time.

"I need time to think about it," he said.

"Can."

Garlan nodded.

Thrall raised his eyes and glanced at Garlan, then subconsciously looked to the left towards the man in black.

The man had black hair, and the jet-black hair, which was much darker than his, seemed to have been formed by melting night.

When he stood quietly, he seemed to be the incarnation of the night, his eyes just falling on the young man.

Contrary to the man, although the boy also has black hair, he gives people an extremely bright look.

It wasn't because of his skin color. The brightness seemed to ooze out of the boy's body, and there seemed to be soft light where he was.

They are obviously extremes of differences, but for some reason they feel an indescribable sense of harmony when they stand together.

I don’t know what the relationship between these two people is.

That man didn't look like someone who would be subordinate to others, but he seemed to be completely obedient to the boy.

Sal felt that he had the illusion of seeing a desert wolf that had been tamed by his grandfather.

This thought just flashed through Sal's mind.

He shook his head, turned around and left quickly without thinking too much.

The answer he gave the boy was related to the future destiny of the entire Fira people.

He must think carefully...

…………

After Sal left, Heimos, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded, raised his eyes and glanced at the back of the gang leader from the corner of his eye.

"Do you think he can do it?"

According to the intelligence investigated, although the Feira Bandit is one of the several major bandit groups entrenched in the Sal Desert and is a bandit group native to this place, it is the weakest among these major bandit groups.

The Sivali bandit group that attacked them was also stronger than them.

But this is inevitable. After all, the Fela bandits are quite restrained in their robberies and are not as vicious as other bandits.

The harvest is less, and the natural development is not as good as other bandit groups.

"I saw it with my own eyes when I came here. Although it is a bandit camp, the atmosphere inside is very good. There are many old people, women, children and children."

Garlan said with a chuckle.

"It can be seen that they all love their leader from the bottom of their hearts... So Sal must be very good to them."

He said calmly: "Even if I had to choose a knife, I wouldn't choose the Sivali type. I think it's dirty."

"But as far as I know, it will be difficult for the Fela gang to defeat the Sivali gang."

"Ahem, this is it."

Garlan coughed and looked at Heimos.

"I think it would be inconspicuous for someone to sneak into the Fela gang."

Heimos raised an eyebrow.

"You want me to pretend to be a horse thief?"

"...Just this once!"

Garlan knew he was in the wrong when he asked the dignified prince of Aaron Landis and the so-called strongest black knight to pretend to be a horse thief.

He smiled at Heimos, and all kinds of compliments and praises were quickly thrown at Heimos.

"As long as you take action, everything will be solved. As strong as you are, you don't even need anyone else. You can solve those Sivari bandits by yourself."

Garlan looked at Heimos and whispered, "You can wear a mask so that others can't recognize you."

He winked and added flatteringly.

"I'll prepare the mask for you, okay?"

Heimos laughed.

The look in his eyes when he looked at Garlan was almost overflowing with affection and indulgence.

"good."

He said.

Just when Garlan was relieved that his goal had succeeded, Heimos suddenly leaned over.

She brought her thin lips to the young man's slightly opened lips and kissed him, even biting the pink lips lightly when he wasn't prepared.

"Then I'll accept the deposit first."

He said,

"I'll ask you for the rest of the reward later."

Gallan was caught off guard and was stunned for a moment.

"remuneration?"

"certainly."

Heimos was confident.

"Who will do anything for you if it's no good?"

Garlan: “…………”

I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to refute it.

The author has something to say: The character of Thrall is actually supposed to be a subordinate character under Garlan as set in the text, and the people of Fela are also a force under Garlan's command.

It can be regarded as a force that corrects evil and returns to righteousness.

It was supposed to appear in Garlan's fight against the invaders Gastad and the opening and expansion of trade routes. Later, considering procrastination and other problems, it was cut and not written.

But after thinking about it, I decided to write this character as a spin-off.

_(:3∠)_