109: Chapter 109 We are not invading, we are acquiring assets.

Instead, he picked up the quill from the desk, dipped it into the crimson ink, and began making marks on the report.

The tooth-gritting sound of a metal nib scratching across rough parchment echoed with startling clarity in the silent study.

Rayton's gaze followed the tip of the pen as Levi crossed out the column for 'Estimated Enemy Casualties' and wrote several cold, unfamiliar words beside it: 'Target Asset Liquidation Costs'.

Immediately after, 'Occupied Territory' was struck through by an even thicker red line, replaced by 'Market Range to be Integrated'.

After completing this, Levi still seemed dissatisfied. At the end of the report, with an indisputable stroke, he added an extra note: 'Public Opinion Risk Control Contingency Plan—This operation shall be externally defined as a righteous act of assisting Silvermoon City officials in clearing banditry along trade routes and maintaining regional trade stability. All operational personnel must strictly adhere to this propaganda narrative.'

Each word written felt like a heavy hammer strike against Graham's heart.

He didn't understand those terms, but he could feel the terrifying power contained within them—a power that completely dissected, objectified, and even distorted the nature of war.

This was no longer a conflict between nobles; it was a monster he couldn't comprehend, devouring everything familiar to him.

Levi set down the pen and pushed the 'optimized' report back to Rayton, his tone flat as if he had merely edited an inconsequential shopping list. "Refine your plan according to this framework. I'll give you one hour."

"Yes, My Lord." Rayton's breathing was slightly rapid as he picked up the report like a precious treasure.

To him, the crimson script on the page didn't look like ink, but like the key to opening the gates of a new world.

Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and left the study to execute the orders with high efficiency.

Graham watched Rayton's departing back, then looked at his calm nephew. His lips trembled a few times before he finally let out a heavy sigh and slumped back into his chair.

He knew he had completely lost track of this mad world.

An hour later, on the training grounds of the Blackstone Territory Security Department, the atmosphere was more heated than any actual combat drill.

Rayton didn't deliver any impassioned pre-war speeches; he didn't mention slogans of honor, loyalty, or protecting the homeland.

Like a seasoned auctioneer, he stood on a temporary high platform holding a freshly drawn map of the trade routes, with key nodes marked in red circles.

"Gentlemen, the 'Silvermoon Trade Route Market Development Project' internal bidding starts now!" His voice, amplified by Battle Qi, reached the ears of every desperate man clearly. "Look here: Sentry Tower Three, wooden structure, twelve regular guards, equipped with one small ballista. Estimated assault difficulty: C-rank. Whoever takes it gets thirty percent of all 'Security Service Fee' revenue from this tower for the next month!"

As soon as he finished, the crowd below erupted. The squad led by Vera raised their hands almost instantly, their eyes flashing with a wolf-like hunger for victory.

"And here! Greystone Slope Warehouse, stone construction, complete fortifications, over thirty guards, likely magic traps. Assault difficulty: B+. But the estimated value of the goods inside exceeds five hundred gold coins! Also a thirty percent commission. Does any team dare to tackle this hard bone?"

Among the crowd, several fierce-looking mercenary leaders who had remained silent began whispering, their eyes quickly calculating risks and rewards.

Rayton's finger moved across the map, breaking down the toll stations, warehouses, and supply points along the route into individual 'profit packages,' clearly priced for the 'contractors' below to bid on.

They didn't need to swear fealty to the Lord; they only needed to weigh their team's strength, risk tolerance, and their thirst for gold.

A military operation that should have been an invasion and counter-attack was thus packaged into a bustling commercial bidding event.

That afternoon, the operation began.

The Blackstone Territory 'Security Teams' were like a pack of sharks smelling blood. In a manner that the Silvermoon City guards couldn't fathom, they lunged at the secret trade route.

There were no large-scale group charges, no orderly battle formations advancing.

Each small squad was like a scalpel, precisely inserting themselves into their designated targets.

Killing the enemy wasn't their primary goal; they cared more about 'cost control'.

A scout squad specializing in stealth used blowdarts dipped in anesthetic to silently drop the sentries on a tower. Before the guard captain could even react, a dagger was already pressed against his throat.

Accompanying the dagger was a pouch full of silver coins: "Surrender or die. If you surrender, this pouch is yours, and you'll get a job as a Blackstone Territory warehouse manager with a salary thirty percent higher than your current one."

Faced with a cold blade and an even more tempting 'offer,' the guard captain hesitated for only three seconds before making the wise choice.

Meanwhile, at the most heavily fortified Greystone Slope Warehouse, the squad attacking the front was merely a feint to draw most of the guards' attention.

On the other side, several members who were formerly part of bandit gangs had already used a pre-dug tunnel to infiltrate the warehouse's grain stores and light wolf-smoke mixed with irritant herbs.

As thick smoke billowed, the defenders fell into chaos.

Immediately after, a booming voice echoed over the battlefield: "Listen up, everyone! Lay down your weapons and surrender, and each person will receive ten silver coins as a relocation fee! Earl Aldred has already owed you two months' pay; why die for him? Those who resist will die! The first one to run out of the warehouse and surrender gets double the bounty!"

With heavy bounties combined with internal chaos, the warehouse's defense system collapsed from within in just over ten minutes.

The entire process was less like a military conquest and more like a well-planned violent debt collection mixed with precise headhunting.

With minimal cost, they lunged straight for the 'profit packages,' paralyzed the command system, dissolved the will to fight, and then swiftly completed the 'asset handover'.

At dusk, the clouds on the horizon were dyed the same color as gold coins.

Levi was in his study, sipping warm ale while reviewing reports on various territorial affairs.

His expression was focused and relaxed, as if what was happening outside wasn't a war, but a perfectly ordinary commercial expansion.

There was a soft knock on the study door, and Evelyn walked in carrying a stack of fresh parchment.

In the air, her unique, faint fragrance diluted the stale smell of ink in the room.

"My Lord, the first battle report is out." She placed the parchment on the desk. The title of the first page would have left any traditional military general baffled: 'Silvermoon Trade Route Market Development Project Day One Balance Sheet'.

There were no statistics on casualties, no assessments of military merit.

Instead, there were columns of clear numbers.

"Assets Controlled: Three toll stations, five sentry towers; Warehouse One and Three have completed inventory handover."

"Liquid Assets Seized: Cash—217 gold coins, 350 silver coins."

"Fixed Asset Valuation: Goods (furs, ore, ale) preliminary valuation approximately 1,200 gold coins; buildings and fortifications valued at 300 gold coins after depreciation."

"Operating Cost Expenditures: 320 arrows consumed, 3 bottles of alchemical fire-oil, 7 bottles of healing potions, 35 gold coins for instigating defections and compensation... Total cost approximately 52 gold coins."

At the bottom of the report, Evelyn had used red ink to calculate a final result.

"First Day Return on Investment: 2721%."

A number sufficient to drive any merchant mad.

Graham had entered the study at some point. He stood to the side without a word, his eyes fixed on the report.

He didn't understand the exact meaning of the percentage symbol, but he understood that long string of numbers regarding gold coins.

In the evening, outside the castle gates, carts laden with supplies slowly rolled in through the twilight.

The wheels creaked heavily against the stone road, sounding like a movement composed of wealth.

Graham stood on the archery tower, personally witnessing boxes of minted coins and carts of spoils being moved into the warehouse.

The returning 'soldiers' didn't have the sense of honor from winning a battle, the relief of surviving a disaster, nor any loyalty to the Byron Family.

They gathered in small groups, excitedly calculating how much money their squad would get this time, planning how many times they could enjoy themselves at the tavern, or thinking about buying better equipment to win a larger 'profit package' in the next 'project bidding'.

Greed, fanaticism, and naked desire—that was all he saw on the faces of this 'army'.

The old knight was silent for a long time. He slowly walked down from the tower and went to Levi's study.

At that time, Levi was holding the report, planning the next 'market to be integrated' on the map.

"I don't understand it," Graham's voice was slightly hoarse, carrying a trace of fatigue he had never shown before. "But I admit, it is effective."

This was the first time he had set aside the knight's code he had upheld his entire life to bow to these new rules he couldn't comprehend.

Levi looked up at his granduncle. There was no mockery or boasting; he simply nodded calmly, as if everything was within his expectations.

He was about to speak, to arrange the next stage of the 'market consolidation' plan to thoroughly digest these newly occupied assets and turn them into a continuous wealth-generating machine for Blackstone Territory.

Just then, a flurry of footsteps came from the corridor. A scout responsible for the outer perimeter rushed in, kneeling on one knee with a strange expression.

"My Lord! Urgent intelligence!" The scout's voice was unsteady from running. "From the direction of Silvermoon City... an envoy has arrived."

Graham's spine instantly stiffened, and his hand instinctively gripped his sword hilt. A battle-ready light returned to his cloudy eyes. "A declaration of war? Has that coward Aldred finally dared to respond directly?"

The scout shook his head, pulled something from his robe, and presented it with both hands.

It was an exquisitely crafted invitation made of high-quality gilded parchment. The edges were embossed with intricate silvermoon patterns, tied with a purple silk ribbon, and sealed with a clear wax stamp representing Earl Aldred himself.

Levi's gaze fell on the invitation, and his brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

The scout swallowed and continued his report: "The envoy did not bring a declaration of war or any letter of condemnation. He... he simply delivered this invitation, saying that by order of the City Lord of Silvermoon, Earl Aldred, he sincerely invites the Lord of Blackstone Territory, His Excellency Levi Byron, to attend an emergency consultation banquet on 'Regional Commercial Development and Trade Security' hosted by the City Lord tomorrow evening."