Cthulhu Gonfalon

After a fierce battle, the clean-up army that Dahl Hill sent out this winter finally eradicated an overriding concern that had been haunting them for years, without having to pay such a painful price. Because Sui Xiong had benevolently accorded them with god's grace, so other than the three unlucky archers who were killed at point-blank in the battle, the others who participated in the war were able to survive. There was not even a single one who was disabled.

When Baron Dahl received the news, he smiled from ear to ear. Joy was written all over his chubby face.

As he watched the tribe of ogres grew stronger with each passing day, Baron Dahl was in fact, very worried. At times, he also worried about whether these fellows would launch a massive invasion, destroy a village or two, or even attack the towns.

If there were really hundreds of ogres charging their way over, Dahl City would not be able to stop them. Furthermore, the ogres were very wise. If they truly wanted to attack the city, they were bound to drive a horde of magic beasts to charge in first to be their cannon fodder. They might even break into the villages and steer the refugees towards the towns to demoralize the humans, in turn causing an increase in food consumption. Then it would naturally be easier for them to break through the towns.

Of course, just a single ogre would not be so intelligent. But when a group was gathered, they would often be pregnant with a tribal chief or shaman. Therefore, their level of wisdom would be greatly increased, and the threat they posed would be greatly magnified.

This was like a special group of people on Earth. If their numbers were less than two percent of the human population, there would be true peace, but if it was more than five percent, it would start disrupting social order. At 10 percent of the human population, they would make use of riots and other means to promote laws that worked to their benefits; exceeding 20 percent, they would be launching terrorist attacks everywhere, and at 40 percent, they would turn to persecuting others… the ogres would be like this special group of people.

An accumulation of quantity would lead to a change in quality. This was perpetual, regardless of which world it was.

Fortunately, Baron Dahl did not have to worry about this problem because the ogres in his territory had already become the best kind in the world—dead ogres.

From inside the ogres' camp, no one managed to find many valuable trophies. It was apparent that the dragon was very good at plundering and did not leave behind many things of value. It did not even spare the rare minerals and took those away with it. Fortunately, the dead bodies of the ogres were themselves, quite valuable trophies. And because of the cold weather, these corpses were quite well-preserved. There was enough time to slowly deal with them.

Hence, the enlisted mage hired a few handymen and set up a temporary workshop at the place that was originally the campsite of the ogres in order to handle the materials most efficiently.

Because there were too many materials but too few men—this was a very technical job that only the enlisted mage and his two apprentices could handle. The helpers could only handle the menial work and deal with the insignificant odd jobs, or help them with the logistics. According to the enlisted mage's estimation, it would require almost a month's time to complete processing everything.

This "complete processing of everything" did not mean that those materials would be made into magic props. It only referred to the process of making materials out of the remains of the ogres.

It was certainly impossible for the clean-up army to spend a month's time waiting at the foot of the mountain. So after leaving enough men and provisions, Baron Dahl led his soldiers of this clean-up army, who had all been kept busy for almost a month moving on from one victory to another, back to Dahl City as they sang songs of victory along the way. They were all exhausted but in high spirits.

By the time they returned to Dahl City, the messenger had long brought news of their victory back home. The people in the city were rejoicing as they took to the streets, shouting and cheering for the triumphant army that had returned victorious. There were some who were just passive onlookers because after all, there were some spoils that were really rare sights—for example, the head of a wild boar that was almost bigger than a human or a few hideous ogre heads. These were things that ordinary people would not possibly see during peaceful times.

Baron Dahl rode a handsome horse that trotted in the middle of the troop as he relished in the cheers of the people coming from both sides and could not help laughing heartily.

Although he was not a knight, this feeling of being loved by the people after wiping out the magic beasts was very much to his liking.

The premise was that he did not have to pay a hefty price.

But his good mood did not last long. Upon returning to his castle, his son had come forward to greet him, but the baron saw unconcealed worry and anxiety on his son's face.

"What's the matter?" he asked as his face fell instantly.

His son went over to him. In a volume that only father and son could hear clearly, he gave a report on one thing.

Baron Dahl's expression became gloomier, and he kept silent for a while before saying, "We'll withhold the news for the time being and talk about it after a couple of days."

"Father! This matter is quite urgent!" his son urged out of concern.

"No matter how urgent it is, there's no hurry in waiting a day or two," said Baron Dahl, who had regained his composure. With a sigh, he said, "Give it a day or two, then we'll talk about it. Everyone has worked hard, so let us all stay happy for a couple of days."

His son understood what he meant. Then he too heaved a sigh and nodded.

"Right, make an announcement in a while. For those who played a part in this clean-up army, if they are soldiers, they will be paid half a year's salary. If they are hired help, then they will be paid three months' salary. If they are civilians, they will be paid an amount according to the amount of a soldier's one month pay," said Baron Dahl. He thought for a while, then added, "Those who have lost their lives, regardless of what their roles were, their families will be paid according to the soldier's standard pension amount… no, give them five times the pension!"

His son nodded and noted down his instructions.

This would be a great expense, and given the past, he would not oblige without some persuasion. But now… even this young man, who had miserly tendencies, was also in no mood to think about saving money.

Having money was good, but it had to be money that could be utilized to be considered useful. No matter how much money one had… what use would it be if it was just piled up in a coffin? It would only invite robbers to the tomb!

Moments later, his announcement received a thunderous cheer from the entire clean-up army. The soldiers who had returned victorious were elated because of the generous prize money. Even the families of those soldiers who were unfortunately killed felt their pain lessen by the astonishingly generous pension.

Over the next few days, it seemed as though Dahl Hill was in a festive season where everyone laughed heartily. The city's entertainment venues, like pubs and restaurants; were full every day. Women who ran the service industry came by an unexpected additional income.

Two days later, at nightfall in a small conference hall of Dahl Castle, the atmosphere was exceptionally heavy.

"Just when Father led the clean-up army out to attack those magic beasts, a messenger came from Royal Town," said the baron's son, who was the one who received the message. He was giving an account of the matters of concern. "All in all, this happened twice."

Upon hearing this, that elderly knight with white hair and a white beard, who was almost a centenarian, frowned and asked, "Sent by the aristocrats and the merchants?"

The baron's son nodded and sighed deeply.

"Did they run into one another?" asked another knight who was also surnamed Dahl.

The baron's son shook his head.

"They didn't meet one another, that's fine then," said that warrior in relief.

"But this time around, they used very harsh words," said the baron's son with a bitter expression. "Both parties said that given the current situation, it was no longer possible to allow anyone to take up a middle-man's stand. They are all forcing us to choose a side."

"Choose a side my foot!" said a knight with a scar on his face ferociously. "They want to get into a dogfight, then that's their business. What has it got to do with us!"

This was a unanimous consensus of the higher-ups of Dahl Hill. Dahl Hill was in such a remote area that even the emperor would find it hard to rule over it. The Dahl family had ruled for generations and ran this place with a peremptoriness that could be likened to an iron pail. Without bothering about how the aristocrats and merchants fought one another, they had the confidence of being able to fend for themselves, why should they be asked to choose a side?

Just like what that knight with a vulgar mouth said: take a side? To hell with taking a side! Nonsense!