Free Web NovelChapter 34: Iron and Coin
Every ancestral log in Feinan confirmed a singular reality: any entity bearing the bloodline of a true dragon was an absolute apex force of destruction. Subduing or liquidating even a minor drake required an extraordinary deployment of legendary tier professionals.
While the alchemical fluid Xander had recovered didn’t contain raw, pristine dragon blood, its historic classification marked it as a legendary pre-Calamity matrix.
This specific elixir functioned as a supreme attribute multiplier within the medicine ranking system. Consuming it would temporarily expand his core physical parameters by a staggering margin—providing the exact combat modifier needed to shift the balance during a critical combat window.
Under the clinical guidance of Master Cole and his wizard apprentice assistant, Xander’s expenditure of five gold pieces had yielded a flawless diagnostic readout.
```
[Item Diagnostic: Elixir of the Earth Dragon]
[Active Effect: Your core Strength parameter is instantly granted a +6 modifier, and your core Dexterity parameter is expanded by +4.]
[Duration: 10 Minutes of continuous activation.]
```
These parameters were nearly unmatched for a Tier 1 character. Xander calculated his potential output under the influence of the fluid; his baseline Strength was currently locked at an unoptimized 11, but drinking this compound would immediately push him to 17—matching the physical limits of a seasoned Tier 2 frontline Warrior.
Furthermore, the additional +4 Dexterity modifier would elevate his primary attribute to an extraordinary 24 points, granting his physical frame a level of absolute, fluid velocity that bordered on supernatural.
It was a priceless strategic asset. Fortunately, the Ranger Guild’s institutional integrity held firm; Master Cole and the apprentice wizard routinely processed high-value materials together, and Xander’s acute perception metrics detected absolutely zero undercurrents of malice or greed before he exited the premises.
This security parameter was precisely why he had selected the guild’s VIP vault for the evaluation sub-routine. Major continental organizations operated under strict compliance structures. Had he brought an asset of this caliber to a black-market syndicate like Goblin’s Bane, the local fences would have undoubtedly orchestrated an immediate assassination plot to claim the bottle.
Inside the shadowed, wood-paneled interior of the Obsidian Eagle Inn, a detailed roster sheet was handed directly across the table to Xander.
"Only fifteen active contracts?" Xander inquired, his voice low and analytical as he reviewed the names. He had originally instructed Elyra to secure a vanguard of at least twenty capable field assets.
"The seasonal tariff for high-tier adventurers has surged beyond our projected margins, Milord," Elyra explained calmly, her fingers adjusting the ledger. "And the cheaper candidates flooding the lower tiers were merely looking to siphon our silver advancement without risking their life bars. I purged them from the selection pool."
"These fifteen individuals possess the exact martial baselines required for our operational blueprint. Furthermore, the sheer volume of swords does not always yield a positive modifier when managing independent mercenaries. Even with a binding guild contract in place, if our sovereign authority appears structurally weaker than their collective force, we risk losing administrative control of the deployment."
Xander nodded slowly, acknowledging her logistical foresight. Attempting to reclaim Redoak Vale by relying entirely on an unmanageable horde of adventurers could easily result in those exact mercenaries seizing the territory for themselves. The estate’s standing garrison was currently depleted; recruiting a massive, independent martial force without the means to suppress them would be a catastrophic leadership failure.
The half-elf retainer had thoroughly calculated the security risks.
However...
"The demi-human migration is directed by an innate Sorcerer," Xander stated flatly.
"What?" Elyra’s posture broke, her face turning pale. "A bloodline spellcaster? How could a primitive clan trigger that specific evolutionary path?"
"I executed a visual scan of the target myself. His passive perception tracking nearly compromised my stealth matrix," Xander replied, his expression entirely stoic. "They have also integrated a specialized vanguard of mutated aardwolves into their layout. They will prove exceptionally difficult to dismantle. The common gnoll grunts, by comparison, present a basic liquidation routine."
A force of one hundred and fifty primitive grunts sounded imposing, but the professional level of human adventurers was mathematically higher. In a direct melee engagement, a single human mercenary could easily suppress two or three grunts simultaneously. If they could rapidly liquidate the command tier, the enemy’s morale parameters would instantly crater.
The true tactical crisis was the Sorcerer chieftain. The miniature tyrant would undoubtedly entrench himself within a heavily guarded defensive pocket during the chaos, entirely invisible to the vanguard. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
Furthermore, the mutated aardwolves operated entirely under his psychic command. Xander needed to devise an immediate sub-routine to neutralize the beasts or eliminate the spellcaster before the main deployment fractured.
"Regarding those specialized beasts... during the initial midnight breach at the outer wall, I managed to bring one down," Elyra murmured, her brow furrowing as she reviewed her combat data. "They appear to lack standard biological vitals. My steel driven straight through its heart failed to trigger a critical termination sequence."
Xander hadn’t personally traded blows with the mutated vanguard yet, meaning his internal database lacked their specific physical parameters. A creature with a massive frame, high kinetic velocity, devastating crushing power, and no recognizable weak points was an extraordinary threat to an infantry line. If the mercenary vanguard was shattered by a surprise aardwolf charge, the entire operation would collapse into a route.
Xander pulled a clean sheet of parchment across the table, grabbed a quill, and began rapidly drafting a series of combat directives.
Elyra watched him from the side, her eyes widening with profound astonishment as his hand moved with absolute precision and speed across the page.
Young Master Xander... has undergone a complete cognitive awakening, she realized, her chest tightening with an unspoken emotion. The trauma of losing the estate has forced his true bloodline potential to manifest. His tactical wisdom and authority are completely undeniable now.
"These three containment protocols will systematically counter the aardwolves’ biological advantages," Xander stated, setting the quill down firmly. "We initiate the advance precisely three days from now."
"And the Sorcerer?" Elyra pressed, her concern still lingering. "Even a tier 1 caster can completely decimate an infantry formation if left uninhibited."
"I will personally execute the termination routine on the chieftain," Xander replied coldly, picking up the mercenary roster to meticulously memorize the combat profiles of his contract forces.
The fifteen mercenaries were structurally divided into two established six-man squads and three independent solo operators. Every asset was firmly locked into the upper limits of Tier 1, possessing solid baseline attributes but lacking advanced professional class specializations.
Elyra’s financial calculations were entirely sound; high-level Tier 2 combatants commanded an exorbitant premium that would have thoroughly drained his remaining silver reserves. Furthermore, bringing a dominant, high-tier professional into the mix would have actively threatened Xander’s sovereign command over the battlefield.
As his eyes scanned the roster, his gaze paused on the layout of the first six-man unit. They were a remarkably well-known entity within the regional circles of River Shore City.
The [Bramble Syndicate].
"The Bramble squad retains an exceptional mission-completion rating within the local low-tier circles," Xander noted, checking the data logs. "Their primary vanguard leader is a Level 5 Fighter."
"The mechanical variables favored our ledger," Elyra responded instantly. "Under standard market conditions, our available silver contract would have been entirely insufficient to retain a squad of their collective experience. However, the captain’s biological daughter has recently been afflicted by a rare, supernatural blight. They require an immediate, high-tier priestly intervention to purge the affliction. They desperately need immediate liquid capital, and since the regional highways are currently blocked, they authorized our deployment."
"An honorable motivation yields high behavioral reliability," Xander murmured, validating her choice.
The secondary six-man squad possessed adequate martial attributes and standard-issue iron gear. Though they were a relatively recent formation within the guild registry, their logged mission-success parameters were exceptionally clean.
The three solo operators, meanwhile, represented the highest individual expenditure on the ledger. The first was a Level 4 Ranger specializing in high-velocity archery; the second was a Level 5 Druid capable of executing a complete physical transformation into a terrestrial brown bear; the third was a rare, close-quarters Pugilist whose striking metrics were notoriously high. All three held solid reputations within the River Shore taverns.
"The roster is optimal. We mobilize in three days. Instruct Andre and the household survivors to prepare the basic logistical carriage," Xander commanded.
"Where is the designated staging area for the deployment?" Elyra asked, dipping her quill to record the coordinate.
"The Night Tide Inn," Xander stated, naming an unconventional location. "During my return transit, I verified that the small, isolated outpost near the border is still operational. We assemble the forces there."
"You will maintain command of the garrison forces openly on the road, Elyra. My identity will be absent from the march."
The half-elf retainer blinked in sudden confusion. "You won’t be presiding over the column, Milord?"
Xander’s lips curved into a subtle, calculating smile. "The sovereign heir of Redoak Vale is a physically fragile, administratively burdened noble who must remain insulated from the frontline. But the Masked Twin Blades operates under no such constraints."
Elyra’s expression softened, a knowing, brilliant smile gracing her features. The young master was concealing absolutely nothing from her; that absolute level of trust meant more to her than any title.
Three days later, deep within the lawless neutral zones flanking the outer borders of River Shore City, the Night Tide Inn stood illuminated against the dark horizon.
The establishment was a decaying, low-yield family outpost, originally constructed by an old, physically disabled farmer who had built the timber structure along the highway to secure a modest retirement income from passing merchants. Following the sudden demi-human occupation of Redoak Vale, the trade traffic along this specific commercial artery had completely flatlined.
Yet, the old cripple refused to abandon his property. He had survival data of his own; this sector technically fell within the wider strategic patrol matrix of River Shore City, and he calculated that the primitive gnoll clans wouldn’t dare push their hunting lines this close to the municipal guard.
Tonight, however, his modest common room was utterly inundated with traffic.
The structural capacity of the inn was strictly capped at twenty occupants, but a massive influx of arrivals had pushed the active count to thirty-six distinct individuals.
Among the crowd, the old tavern keeper instantly recognized the striking profile of Redoak Vale’s chief half-elf butler.
He hurried back into his small kitchen, his heart hammering with a mix of excitement and anxiety at the sudden spike in revenue. But as he reached for a fresh tray of steamed dough, a violent racket of clashing steel and roaring voices erupted from the central common room.
By the ancestors! Those undisciplined brutes are going to shatter my structural beams!
The old man’s heart sank. He dropped his tray and limped frantically back toward the common room, his disabled leg dragging against the floorboards.
Inside the hall, the thirty-six combatants had systematically fractured into distinct, hostile factions. Blades were half-drawn, and shields were unbuckled as the mercenaries glared at each other across the tables, their fingers twitching over their weapons as a localized tavern brawl teetered on the absolute precipice of execution.
