128: Chapter 128 Welcome to the Auction Site

He needed a flashpoint—an open conspiracy that no armed force in the entire North could ignore.

He returned to his desk, dipped his pen in ink, and wrote a single line of a title on a fresh sheet of parchment.

It wasn't a battle plan, nor was it a manifesto; it was a phrase that sounded incredibly modern yet was filled with lethal allure: "Northern Security Service Outsourcing Standards and Bidding Invitation."

Three days later, this document was precisely delivered via Blackstone Territory's caravan network to every notable noble lord, mercenary captain, and imperial garrison commander in the North.

Naturally, this included General Marcellus, commander of the Third Legion far away in Ironthorn City.

The air in Ironthorn City seemed a few degrees colder and harder than elsewhere.

General Marcellus sat in his command room. Though the fire in the hearth blazed brightly, it could not dispel the gravity etched between his brows.

His fingers were lightly tapping on that "invitation" from Blackstone Territory.

The quality of the paper was excellent, and the handwriting had been printed by a press, clear and orderly.

He had read the contents no fewer than ten times; every word was like a hook, sinking deep into his mind.

There wasn't a single word of nonsense about loyalty or betrayal, nor half a sentence of threat or persuasion to surrender.

The entire text consisted of calm, objective, and one might even say cold commercial terms.

Blackstone Territory, in the name of its lord, Levi Byron, formally offered a "business cooperation" opportunity to all armed forces in the North.

The document detailed the unified standards for all future combat units under the "Blackstone Territory Security Department": a starting monthly salary of three gold coins for soldiers, enchanted standard-issue equipment provided by Blackstone, logistics and supplies reaching double the standard of the Royal Guards, a one-time lump sum of twenty years' salary for death benefits, and children raised to adulthood by the Blackstone Education Fund...

Every single clause was like a battering ram, pounding heavily against the walls of Marcellus's heart.

He knew all too well that his Third Legion hadn't received full pay for four months. The soldiers' armor was patched and mended, and their winter cotton coats were stuffed with old grass roots.

And at the end of the document was a formal invitation: inviting all "partners with intent to cooperate" to send representatives to Blackstone Territory within half a month to participate in the public bidding for the first batch of "security positions."

The materials required for bidding included: total troop strength, equipment lists, logistical status, and past combat performance evaluations.

This wasn't a surrender demand at all; it was a job recruitment notice.

Levi Byron didn't position himself as a conqueror, but as an "employer."

He didn't want submission; he wanted the "resumes" of every armed force in the North.

"General." His adjutant's voice sounded at the door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Speak," Marcellus said without looking up.

"Lord Cassius... is making a scene again, saying that our illegal detention of an Imperial Envoy is a capital crime of treason."

Marcellus's gaze turned cold.

Treason?

In the entire North right now, who still cared about that word?

The Emperor's orders were thousands of miles away, while Levi Byron's gold coins and bread were right before their eyes.

The card that was Cassius had already lost its final value.

"Keep a close watch on him and gag him," Marcellus ordered impassively. He then pushed the invitation toward the adjutant. "You, take a letter written by my hand, along with the most detailed list of the legion's strength, equipment, and logistics, and go to Blackstone Territory in secret. Remember, you aren't going there to surrender; you're going for 'initial contact' and to 'inquire about pricing.'"

The adjutant looked at the document and nodded heavily. "Understood!"

When the adjutant of the Third Legion, Gaius, arrived in Silvermoon City travel-worn and weary, he had imagined many scenarios for the meeting.

Perhaps a heavily guarded interrogation, or an intimidating show of force.

But he hadn't expected to be invited directly into a spacious, bright office, where he was received by a woman dressed in a professional suit, possessing a capable and elegant aura.

Evelyn.

The Chief Operating Officer of Blackstone Territory.

Gaius had already learned of this name through intelligence before coming.

There were no swords in the office, only rows of neat filing cabinets and a massive desk.

The air was filled with the smell of paper and ink mixed with a faint scent of perfume, which made Gaius, who spent all year in military camps, feel an inexplicable constraint.

"Mr. Gaius, please sit." Evelyn's voice was calm and soft as she gestured for Gaius to take the chair opposite her and personally poured him a cup of steaming black tea.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Evelyn," Gaius said, trying his best to make his tone sound less stiff.

Evelyn smiled slightly and got straight to the point. "I have already read General Marcellus's letter. Lord Levi appreciates the General's pragmatic attitude. Thus, we can move directly to the main topic."

She didn't speak of loyalty, didn't mention rebellion, and didn't even utter the word 'Empire.'

She picked up a document from her side with the posture of a merchant checking a manifest with another merchant.

"According to the list your side provided," Evelyn's voice was clear and professional, "the Third Legion currently has thirty-two thousand soldiers on the roster, including about six thousand veterans with over ten years of combat experience. Five thousand heavy infantry with a thirty percent equipment wear-and-tear rate; eight thousand archers with arrow reserves below half a basic unit; three thousand light cavalry with horses that are generally malnourished... Mr. Gaius, I need to confirm the accuracy of this data."

Gaius felt a layer of cold sweat break out on his back.

The other party's professionalism and bluntness caused all his pre-prepared negotiation rhetoric to get stuck in his throat.

This wasn't a military meeting at all; it was like an... asset valuation.

"The data... is completely accurate," he answered with difficulty.

"Very good." Evelyn nodded and made several marks on a form. "Based on your legion's number of 'employees,' the status of your 'fixed assets,' and our comprehensive assessment of your 'operational capabilities,' Blackstone Territory can provide an initial 'acquisition quote.'"

She pushed the document, which was covered in dense clauses and numbers, in front of Gaius.

Gaius's hand trembled as he took the document. With just one look, his breath hitched.

It clearly stated: a one-time payment of five hundred thousand gold coins for legion reorganization; provision of enough full sets of Blackstone standard equipment for thirty thousand people; a commitment that forty percent of northern security business in the next three years would be handled by the Third Legion...

The terms were so generous he could hardly believe them.

"Of course," Evelyn added, "this is only an initial quote. The final cooperation agreement will require Lord Levi and General Marcellus to discuss it in person. However, before that, we hope to see more sincerity from the General."

Gaius immediately understood the meaning of "sincerity."

On the same day he left Silvermoon City, a cavalry unit led personally by General Tiberius arrived outside Ironthorn City, escorting several heavy prison carts.

He didn't enter the city, but merely sent someone to deliver a "gift" to General Marcellus—a thick ledger and all the corrupt officials implicated within it.

When Marcellus flipped open the list of the corruption network sent by Tiberius, his hands trembled slightly for the first time.

On the list were not only the quartermasters he had long suspected but even several camp commanders he usually relied upon heavily.

Every transaction in the ledger was recorded clearly, with evidence as solid as a mountain.

He finally understood why his legion was always short on clothes and food.

These parasites were devouring his army from the inside, eating away at his final foundation.

That night, the lights in Ironthorn City's military court burned bright.

The screams and pleas for mercy lasted for less than fifteen minutes before falling into total silence.

At dawn, over a dozen bloody heads were hung high upon the city gates.

Marcellus used the most ruthless means to show his "sincerity" to everyone, as well as to that young lord far away in Silvermoon City.

Having done all this, he did not linger for a moment.

He personally escorted the withered Imperial Envoy Cassius, took his elite hundred-man personal guard, and galloped toward Silvermoon City.

This time, he was going for a personal "interview."

Levi met Marcellus in the study of the City Lord's Manor.

This battle-hardened general had the look of wind and frost on his face, but his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's.

He did not bow; he simply threw a heavy hemp sack onto the floor. The sack rolled open, revealing Cassius's terrified and desperate face.

"Lord Levi, this is my token of allegiance," Marcellus said, his voice low and raspy.

Levi's gaze swept over Cassius on the floor and then landed on Marcellus.

He signaled Evelyn to hand Marcellus the "acquisition quote" that Gaius had brought back.

But Marcellus didn't take it. He shook his head, his eyes staring intently at Levi. "Lord Levi, gold coins and equipment I can earn myself. I didn't come today for an official position or for wealth. I have only one request."

"Speak."

"Under my command, there are over six thousand veterans who have served for more than ten years," Marcellus's voice held an imperceptible tremor. "They have bled for the Empire, lost limbs, and don't have a single patch of unscarred skin on their bodies. They are old; they can't fight anymore. I beg of you, Lord, to provide them with a 'retirement contract' with the same treatment you gave to those disabled veterans of the Second Legion. As long as you agree, my life and the lives of the remaining twenty thousand brothers belong to you."

The air instantly went quiet.

Evelyn looked at Marcellus with some surprise. She hadn't expected that the first condition this general with heavy troops would propose was to seek a way out for his veteran soldiers.

Levi looked at him silently for a long time.

Then, in front of Marcellus, he took the "acquisition quote" from Evelyn's hand and, under Marcellus's shocked gaze, slowly tore it into pieces, inch by inch.

The scraps of paper drifted down like snowflakes.

"General, you've misunderstood one thing." Levi stood up from behind his desk and walked over to Marcellus, his gaze calm and profound.

He picked up a pen and began writing anew on a fresh sheet of parchment.

"From today on, you are not my subordinate; you are the new partner of the Blackstone Territory Security Department."

His nib glided across the parchment with a rustling sound as clauses were rapidly constructed.

"Your first task is not to go to war, nor is it to make money." Levi looked up and handed the newly drafted document to Marcellus. The header of the document read—"Third Legion Reorganization and Retirement Security Agreement."

"Take this agreement back and tell your soldiers that I've covered the rest of their lives." Levi's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a power sufficient to move even the hardest of hearts. "Tell them: welcome to Blackstone Territory."

Marcellus took the agreement, which still held the warmth of the ink. With just one look, the hands that had never wavered after seeing life and death countless times on the battlefield began to tremble uncontrollably.

He snapped his head up to look at the man before him who was younger than his own son. His lips moved, but he couldn't say a single word.

Levi just looked at him calmly, while in his mind, he was calculating another ledger.

The highest cost of securing an army's loyalty was never money, but the hearts of the people.

And the cheapest investment to win hearts was to give them the dignity they had long since abandoned hope for.

He turned around and looked at the giant map of the Terrarium continent on the wall. His gaze crossed the towering mountains of the North and cast toward the more distant, broader South.

The integration of the North was only the first step.

A giant war machine with a "company" structure, "interests" as its bond, and "security services" as its product was about to begin its first trial run.

And who would its first "client" be?

A thought, like a poisonous snake, quietly woke in his mind.