Berserk: The Prophet

Green said in a low voice, "Don't let him ruin our plans." At that moment, the pursuing soldiers had reached the door.

Jacob understood immediately, and with his steel-armored gaiters, he kicked the deserter away.

The centurion looked at the deserter lying on the ground, then at Green and Jacob, and asked coldly, "Who are you people?"

Green calmly replied, "We are nobles passing through this area and are staying here for the night."

The centurion looked them up and down. Their full plate armor made them look like ordinary people, but he didn't think he had seen the insignia on their chests in Juda before. Perhaps they were minor nobles from other parts of Juda.

In short, it's best for a nobleman's illegitimate son to avoid messing with other people's eldest sons or heirs.

“Very well, I am the centurion of the supervisory team under Lord Heron. You had better not collude with these lowly deserters.” With that, he ordered his men to take the deserters away.

As the soldiers' footsteps faded into the distance, Jacob breathed a sigh of relief and whispered, "...That was close."

They had impersonated others before, but they were clearly harder to fool than this centurion. The enemy's heraldic officer saw through their disguise as Judas nobles.

...It seems we successfully avoided a fierce battle today.

Green did not relax. He stared at the direction where the soldier disappeared, his eyes serious: "Herron...that name sounds familiar."

Unconsciously, his fingertips caressed the hilt of the sword at his waist. Suddenly, memories surged. Oh! It seems to be that wealthy customer who bought the Griffith hook.

However, Green wasn't quite sure what Heron's identity was, only that he was one of the five most wealthy dukes in Juda, a venomous and ruthless leader of the Knights, and currently engaged in a legal territorial struggle with Duke Landon.

...and there are also rumors that he has a pedophilic tendency.

Green frowned, feeling a tightness in his anus. "It seems we can't stay in this village any longer. We'll leave tonight."

Jacob paused for a moment, then nodded in agreement: "You're right, sir. We shouldn't stay here any longer. If those men under Heron cause any more trouble, we might not be able to handle it."

The two quickly packed their equipment and luggage, but the farce in the tavern seemed to be getting out of hand, with blood splattered on the wooden window paper.

However, the farce gradually subsided, and most of the deserters were chained up and dragged out one by one by the soldiers.

At this point, the tavern owner named Old John, who was also the village chief, put on a performance that was almost perfect.

"...They threatened me not to spread the word, and they've been staying at my place, eating and drinking for free without paying a cent. Sir, you have to stand up for us!!"

Old John, with tears streaming down his face, sobbed and cried, his acting skills superb, as if he had truly been driven to desperation by these deserters.

But his round body and oily face hardly looked like someone who had been bullied to the point of malnutrition.

...Even the deserters couldn't stand this acting. They were paid less, but surely they weren't being treated like freeloaders?

In other words, during the civil war, these deserters couldn't burn down their own village, otherwise almost everyone in that village would have been killed long ago.

The centurion waved his hand impatiently: "I know. The lord will settle accounts with these deserters for their crimes. As for the losses to your tavern, I will inform the lord, and you will be compensated after the war."

Old John immediately prostrated himself on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly: "Thank you, sir! Thank you, sir!"

His chubby figure and the way he deliberately exaggerated his movements made him look somewhat comical.

...He really is a shrewd businessman.

...They not only profit from deserters, but also covet the lord's money and benefits.

After the group of soldiers escorting the deserters had gone far away, Green and Jacob led out their horses, mounted them, and left the place of trouble.

...the sounds of shouting and cursing could be faintly heard not far away.

Green and Jacob looked down the hillside by the moonlight.

A group of soldiers were seen escorting several deserters who were bound hand and foot, one of whom was the same deserter they had kicked away earlier.

"Hmph, let's see if you dare to resist again. You'd better behave yourselves!" a soldier said viciously.

"Sir, we were forced to desert, please let us go!" one of the deserters pleaded desperately.

"Let you go? Dream on! You cowards, deserting in the face of battle, you deserve to be punished!" the soldier said mercilessly.

Green watched this scene and couldn't help but feel a little emotional.

In this chaotic world, everyone struggles to survive, and these deserters are no exception. But he also knows that, whether in this world or the original one, there can be no order without rules, and the deserters' actions are unforgivable if they lead to the failure of the entire battle.

“My lord, let’s go,” Jacob said softly.

Green nodded and disappeared into the moonlight with Jacob.

......

Shortly after Green and Jacob left the village, the centurion reported the matter to Heron.

“Sir, I encountered two men in that village who claimed to be nobles. Although they were wearing plate armor, I don’t recall ever seeing the insignia on their chests before,” the centurion said respectfully.

Heron sat on the ornate chair, his eyes cold. The defeat he had suffered against the Persian experts a few days ago and the loss of the southern fortress had left him extremely displeased.

"Hmph, these people of unknown origin are most likely spies sent by that old bastard Langdon. Send men to find out where they are, and kill them without mercy if they are discovered!"

"...Understood." The centurion accepted the order and left.

The one-eyed man stroked his stubble. Two nobles in full plate armor? Could it be those two again?

Despite his doubts, the child had been involved in the previous battle and could very well be one of Langdon's men.

However, the raid on the camp didn't yield any benefits, and Heron is currently dissatisfied with himself, so it's best not to interfere in the affairs of those two for now.

"Arwin, what are your plans for the upcoming battle?"

Heron's question brought the one-eyed man back to his senses. After all, he was a veteran of many battles, and Alwin quickly answered: "The enemy is a very experienced mercenary. I have dealt with him before, and he is a guy who values ​​profit quite a bit."

"My next plan is to lure the enemy deep into our territory and capture their leader first!"

Heron stroked the jewel-encrusted scepter, its serpentine carvings gleaming coldly in the candlelight: "Interesting. Tell me your plan."

Arwen knelt on one knee, took out a crumpled parchment map from his bosom, and slowly unfolded it on the table.

"Gambino suffered a setback this time, and his army's morale is low. This time, he must win a battle to stabilize his troops. The castles near the southern fortress will likely become their primary targets for plunder."

"When the enemy's morale is high, feign a rout along this route to lure them deep into our territory. Then, send a detachment of pikemen and artillery engineers to garrison the camp, surround the tents with barricades and fortifications, and set up artillery emplacements to catch them off guard!"

“...Well, then we’ll do as you say.” Heron said lazily after Alwin’s passionate speech ended.

"This is your last chance, Alwin, don't disappoint me again!!" Heron stood up from his seat, his thick arms supported by two little boys, and coldly looked at Alwin, who was still kneeling at his feet, as he spoke.

"...Yes, sir." Alwin didn't dare raise his head, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. He couldn't afford to fail again!

He didn't want his son to work under a philandering lord.