Lord blessed by the elves

Chapter 39 Incorporation
The old steward's concerns were all too real. Defeating the enemy and feeding the population were two entirely different things.

Faced with Wilstone's understandable questioning, Kruse simply smiled calmly, his face showing no sign of wavering, but rather revealing a confidence that everything was under control.

"Don't worry, Wilstone." His voice was steady and strong, carrying a reassuring certainty. "I already have a complete plan for the food issue. When have I ever done anything without certainty? Incorporating them is not an impulsive decision, but a necessary step for the future development of Lion's Tooth Territory. Just prepare according to my instructions, and I assure you, Lion's Tooth Territory will not go hungry because of these hundred or so extra people. On the contrary, they will become a new force for us to build our territory."

His gaze fell upon the newly cultivated field in the darkness, as if he could already see the bountiful harvest to come. "Soon, you will understand."

Looking at Kruze's confident and composed demeanor, Wilstone, though his doubts weren't completely dispelled, chose to obey due to the trust he had built up over time and his understanding of the young lord's unpredictable methods. He nodded emphatically, "Yes, young master! I'll arrange it right away!"

In the dead of night, all was silent except for the mournful sound of the cold wind sweeping across the desolate plains.

The bandit leader, Durut, along with his fifty-odd emaciated but green-eyed young men, crept silently toward the edge of Lion's Tooth Territory like stalking hyenas.

However, when they could make out the view of the fields ahead by the faint moonlight, Durut's heart sank.

The envisioned unguarded, plunderable farmland did not materialize.

On the contrary, around that field of peas that was about to ripen and exuded an enticing aroma, there were many figures!

Dozens of torches were stuck in the ground or held high by people. The flickering flames not only provided illumination but also enveloped a considerable area in a halo of light and shadow, forming a simple yet effective warning circle.

Trudeau lay down behind a shovel, squinting as he counted carefully. The more he counted, the more ashen-faced he became, and his palms began to sweat.

Just looking at this field area, there are dozens of people patrolling back and forth and standing guard!
He suddenly turned his head and looked towards another faintly visible field of purple sweet potatoes, where there were also some firelights, illuminating many swaying figures!

"Damn it!" Durut couldn't help but curse under his breath, a chill running down his spine. "Did Lion's Tooth Territory drive all the living people in their territory into the fields?! There must be at least a hundred or two hundred people standing guard!"

This was completely beyond his expectations!

How could a knightly lord who was dirt poor and whose serfs were said to have almost all run away possibly pull out so many people to guard the fields in the middle of the night?

Moreover, to his horror, he discovered that along the edges illuminated by the firelight, he could vaguely see squads of soldiers carrying brand-new spears. They patrolled the fields in groups of a dozen or so, the tips of their spears occasionally reflecting a cold, gleaming light in the firelight.

This is hardly an unsuspecting fat sheep.
This is clearly a trap with its pockets wide open, waiting for them to walk right in!
"Damn it! Which bastard said Lion Fang Territory was so poor it couldn't even afford to support serfs and was defenseless?! I've been completely screwed over!" Durut cursed the guy who provided the false information in his mind.

The scene before him instantly extinguished his courage, replacing it with immense panic.

We can't beat them! We absolutely can't beat them! Even if most of the enemy are serfs, their numerical advantage and those well-made spears are enough to overwhelm our fifty or so people who only have broken farm tools.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Durut made a decisive decision, lowered his voice and gestured behind him, preparing to lead his men to retreat silently into the darkness.

No matter how good the food is, you still need to be alive to eat it.

However, just as they were hunching over, preparing to crawl backward, a cold, steady voice, seemingly with a metallic tremor, boomed out like thunder not far above and to their side: "Found you."

All the bandits froze, looking up in horror.

On a tall rock nearby, a towering figure stood like a ghost. He was shrouded in shadow, except for a pair of cold eyes that reflected a beastly light in the dim light, looking down at the dozens of sleazy bandits who resembled ground rats.

He wasn't holding a spear, but rather a longsword that had been drawn from its sheath, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground, yet radiating a murderous aura even more chilling than those spears.

He was all alone, yet he seemed to be holding the pass against all odds!
It was none other than the Silver Knight—Willstone!
The moment Trudeau saw Wilston's abyss-like figure, he was terrified. His battle-hardened instincts told him—he had kicked a hornet's nest!

This is a real tough opponent, far beyond what their rabble can handle!

"Damn it! He's a pro! Everyone, forget about direction, scatter and run! Every person who can escape is a winner!" Without any hesitation, Durut roared with all his might, then turned sharply and fled desperately into the darkest of directions!
In the face of such a powerful opponent, gathering together makes you an easy target; only by scattering and escaping can you have a chance of survival.

However, Wilstone's goal was crystal clear from the beginning—to catch the thief, first catch the king!

Just as Durut finished shouting and moved, Wellstone moved.

The rocks beneath his feet seemed to tremble slightly, and he, like a night owl pouncing on its prey, swept down with a chilling killing intent, at a speed far beyond Durut's imagination!

The longsword sliced ​​through the air with a shrill whistle, aiming straight for Durut's vital heart, showing no mercy whatsoever!
For a bandit leader who threatens the security of the territory, death is the best outcome.

At the same time, just as the panicked bandits scattered and fled like headless flies, the surrounding darkness seemed to come alive in an instant!

"Kill!!"

"Don't let them get away!"

"Surround it up!"

A deafening battle cry suddenly erupted from all directions! In the seemingly empty field, countless swaying figures appeared in an instant, torches were raised one after another, as if a huge net of light and sound had been woven in an instant, completely enveloping the more than fifty bandits.

The bandits were terrified. They couldn't tell how many enemies there were, and all they could feel were voices and the cold glint of weapons all around them. Their escape route was completely cut off.

"Surrender and you will not be killed! Lay down your weapons!"

A unified roar came from all directions, carrying an undeniable deterrent force.

Collapse often happens in an instant. Faced with the fear of this desperate situation and the cry of "surrender and you will not be killed," the already fragile psychological defenses of the bandits could no longer be sustained.

(End of this chapter)