Warlock of the Magus World

Yorkshire

With Leylin's current reputation and the nobles now seeing his true colours, they politely spouted a whole pile of meaningless words. They then sped off as if their rear ends had been set on fire.

Soon enough, the tent began to seem a little desolate. Only a few figures chose to remain, one of which was someone Leylin was on familiar terms with.

"Baron Andrew! I never thought you would make such a choice," Leylin said calmly as he looked at the middle-aged noble, who was constantly taking his silk handkerchief out and wiping his face.

"The orcs are attacking extremely ferociously. Even the werecreatures were not so easily dealt with. The ration stores in my territory aren't enough to get us past this winter famine…" Baron Andrew laughed wryly, "I only have a humble request… When we pass by my territory, may I bring a part of my family along?"

Leylin nodded, "As long as the numbers are within a hundred, and if you bring your own supplies."

"Thank you very much!" Andrew lowered his head.

While it was tough losing his position as the leader, Andrew could clearly see the situation in the north. Those fools and swines wanted to compromise with the orcs, or had the hope that the other side would let them off lightly. That was as impossible and laughable as the sun rising from the west!

"Great then. I'll give you a day to prepare. Once time is up, we will depart immediately!" Leylin decided.

……

A large army slowly marched across the scorched wilderness. A few knights dashed ahead on horseback, their bodies stained with blood and filled with a valiant aura.

The knights darted to a giant carriage, speaking respectfully, "My lord, we've taken care of the troubles in front. It was a wave of goblins and dwarf bandits, there are no casualties."

"Alright. Order the troops to quicken their footsteps!" Leylin said slowly from within the carriage, his eyes closed. He stopped his deep contemplation, and the group's speed increased with his orders.

"This is really quite massive…" Leylin opened the windows of the carriage and watched the lively crowd, especially the disorderly refugees following next to his people, and sighed.

The orcs' main forces were focused in the direction of Silverymoon, while the werebeasts were occupied with the territories that Leylin and the rest had abandoned. They were more than glad to see all these people leaving.

Including the people of Andrew and the other nobles, Leylin had over a thousand in his entourage. That was enough to intimidate others.

Large military armies would not think much of them, and they were able to deal with the harassment of smaller groups. Hence, the trip to the south was very safe even though these refugees were rather unexpected.

The fierce attacks of the orcs and other large organisations completely broke Silverymoon and the regions to the north. It resulted in a tremendous wave of refugees. Many humans were fleeing south, and quite a few were bringing their families along. Things were very chaotic.

There was wave after wave of bandits, thieves on horseback, and goblins committing all sorts of crimes in the autumn wilderness, be it fighting, raiding, or plundering. It could be said that reaching the south safely without any military protection was just a pipe dream.

Along the way, it wasn't as if commoners or nobles did not come over and beg for his protection. However, Leylin himself had very few rations left. It didn't make sense to give them to people he did not know. Besides taking in a few nobles as external support, he did not accept anyone.

However, there were refugees who tagged behind Leylin's group and made use of their might. There was no way around that, and as long as they posed no threat Leylin could not be bothered to deal with them.

'The glory of the north is now consigned to history…' Leylin walked out of the horse carriage and got onto a handsome black horse, surveying the entire group. Everywhere he went, whether it was the family of the nobles or the original troops, everyone lowered their heads in respect.

They knew that Leylin was their leader, their shield as well as the one in control of their lives. If he grew hostile and chased them away, they would be like those pitiful refugees!

On top of that, this high-ranked military official was also a high-ranked wizard! In this chaotic world, those with strength gave one a sense of security.

Tiff was more aware of this. After leaving the Nether Mountains, Leylin intentionally had him hide himself. Even though there were rumours, most people expressed their disbelief in it. How powerful was a Legend? Why would he suddenly serve under Leylin?

On top of that, most of the Legends in the north had risen to fame a long time ago. Tiff was an unfamiliar face, and on top of that he was using an alias.

"Lord Leylin!" Andrew brought a handsome white horse to Leylin's side, seemingly wanting to curry favour with him. After seeing his mount, Leylin had the urge to laugh.

Commanders who rode white horses were normally very unlucky in his previous life, white was the easiest to spot after all. It was the same now. If there were assassins or archers here, their first target would definitely be Andrew. His mount and the ornaments indicating his status as a noble were far too obvious.

"Mm. There's about three more days left. We're about to reach Yorkshire already. What are your plans?" Leylin asked.

Yorkshire was the human territory to the south of Silverymoon. It was also the place where Leylin predicted the orc waves would stop. The expansive regions in the north were already more than enough for them to take, and there were other organisations unwilling to see the orcs and their gods expanding further.

"I have a few relatives there, so I'll seek shelter." Andrew now had a forced smile on his face, "Perhaps I'll be able to buy a villa in the city and a few manors outside. It would be impossible to live as luxuriously as I had in the north though…"

The extravagant lifestyle of nobles all came from their territories, with the taxes squeezing the people dry. Once they lost their territories and troops, they had basically lost all their power.

This was why many nobles had stubbornly stayed behind in the north. It wasn't that they could not see the obvious outcome, but they could not bear to leave! In comparison, Andrew's choice was more sensible and firm.

"Yorkshire…" Leylin had a ruminating look.

"Yes. That is Marquis Lancet's territory," Andrew said, but he did not continue.

That marquis was an important power in the Silverymoon Alliance. However, his stance was rather dubious in this calamity, and he had been stuck in a rut. He also had good relations with other human kingdoms in the centre.

Of course, Leylin's method of escape was not particularly impressive, so there was no use criticising Andrew for his decision.

'No matter what world we are in, as long as nobody is foolish is enough to threaten the central nobles, the chances of placating the regional nobles is still very high. Even in the World of Gods, this holds true.' Leylin deeply understood the thoughts of those who held power.

After those in the south struck the Silverymoon Alliance, they definitely would not want the orcs to grow stronger. Hence, after Silverymoon collapsed, they would regain control of the orcs again.

This was what Marquis Lancet wished for. He definitely did not want his territory to turn into a battlefield, instead making use of this time to gather more strength!

While it was impossible to pacify everyone by dividing up the territories in Yorkshire, it was very likely that he'd give away the area surrounding Yorkshire as a buffer for the escaping organisations.

'They'll give us the territories at the north of Yorkshire and let us become the frontlines and cannon fodder to fend off the orcs…' Leylin stroked his chin, a peculiar smile lingering on his lips, 'Who knows, after entering Yorkshire, someone might draw me into a marriage proposal…'

Stripping a noble of territory was just too ugly. Doing this through a joint marriage was a far more gentle and acceptable way. The large nobles would definitely not want to be accused of doing something so terrible, so this was basically inevitable.

Three days later, the large group entered Yorkshire. Order had been reestablished here, with well-equipped elites patrolling the entire area. There were even batches of cavalry on occasion.

Evidently, Marquis Lancet did not dare believe the orcs at the north. After all, they were simple-minded, and it was natural that they might suddenly have a change of heart. Compared to orcs, these refugees would pose a threat to security!

At the very least, after seeing Leylin's organised troops, the soldiers looked wary. Leylin nonchalantly showed his noble and military rank pass, and then let them do what they needed.

'I finally see it… the power of the churches…' Leylin could see many huge tents set up in an orderly manner outside the city. Numerous priests with differently coloured church emblems and symbols were hastily walking around and helping refugees.

With a calamity on the horizon, this was the time for a huge harvest for faith. Leylin saw many crying ugly tears and repenting after obtaining oatmeal for emergency relief, and then entering churches.

'It was rare to see them in the north when there was a calamity, but they're all gathered here. The thoughts of humans and gods are obvious…' Leylin thought inside.

Of course, it wasn't as if there weren't other types of priests in their midst. For instance, Leylin saw a small group of holy warriors and mercenaries rushing towards the north.

'These are the paladins and priests of the God of Justice, Tyr. They're rushing to the battlefield in their own name…' Leylin thought to himself, 'The gods with human factions are usually the most neutral. How could the God of Justice allow his own followers to participate in the battle in their own name? What a ridiculous internal power struggle…'

Leylin snickered. However, this was a chance for him.