Mercenary System: I can increase innate potential !

Chapter 71 Baron Irut's envoy

His intense gaze swept the assembly. A hundred faces turned towards him, some curious, others slightly tense. They awaited his words.

Maxime advanced to the center of the clearing, taking a deep breath before addressing his men. His voice was calm, but each word carried weight, as if marking a turning point in their shared destiny.

"Mercenaries..." he began, drawing everyone's attention.

The murmurs died away completely.

"You've proved to Plouta that we're not just a group of mercenaries. We've repelled forces superior in numbers, and we've shown the world what we're capable of. But that was only the beginning."

All eyes were on him, some mercenaries shaking their heads with pride at the memory of past victory. Yet Maxime never smiled. His features were serious, almost hard.

"What I'm about to tell you tonight is going to sound... crazy to some of you." Explore more stories at My Virtual Library Empire

The tension was palpable as everyone lowered the sound of their breathing to the maximum.

"We're going south."

A slight murmur ran through the assembly. Questioning glances were exchanged, but Maxime continued, unperturbed.

"We're going to face the orcs.

The shock was instantaneous. Exclamations erupted, and expressions of astonishment appeared on some faces.

Andrew, who until then had been relaxed, suddenly straightened up, eyes wide.

Romuald cleared his throat, trying to work out if this was a joke, but seeing Maxime's seriousness, he knew it was not.

"The orcs!" Charles blurted out, unable to hide his surprise.

Maxime raised his hand, again imposing silence.

"Yes, the orcs. They've been ravaging the southern lands for years, and every winter their threat grows. This is our chance to prove, not just to ourselves, but to the whole kingdom, that we are a force to be feared."

"It's also an opportunity for us to make our fortune, recruit new comrades and improve our power to deal with the unexpected."

Tena, expecting a bold idea, couldn't help but let out a small sigh.

"The man's too crazy..."

But Maxime smiled this time, a confident smile full of determination.

"If we succeed, if we manage to intervene in the war and be one of the key elements in pushing back the orcs, the name of our group will echo in every tavern, every castle, every corner of the kingdom."

"I know it's dangerous," he resumed in a deeper voice.

"But there's no glory without risk."

Some of the mercenaries nodded silently, others still looked worried, but no one dared to argue. They knew that Maxime didn't take this kind of decision lightly.

"And that's not all," he added, once again capturing the full attention of his men.

"Once this mission is accomplished, we'll be back here for another battle. A much closer one. But this time we'll be totally ready. This will be the decisive battle against Baron Barthon."

Faces froze. Baron Barthon's name was synonymous with power and oppression in this region. Confronting his forces seemed an even greater challenge.

Maxime continued, his voice now more determined than ever:

"This will be the decisive battle. Once we've finished in the south, we'll come back here, stronger, more numerous. And we'll destroy Barthon's forces. We'll put an end to his tyranny, and we'll take our place in history."

The murmurs had turned into a palpable energy. Some mercenaries exchanged glances full of adrenalin and pride. Others remained silent, weighing up the magnitude of the battles ahead.

But all understood that they were about to embark on something far greater than ordinary missions.

"So get some rest," concluded Maxime.

"The day after tomorrow, we're leaving."

The heavy air of the clearing took on a new tension, an excitement mixed with worry. The fate of the battles to come was still uncertain, but one thing was certain: the mercenaries' destiny was about to change forever.

Maxime stepped down from his wooden crate, his gaze sweeping over the faces of his mercenaries, who were slowly recovering from the shock announcement. Some were chatting amongst themselves, hesitating between enthusiasm and fear, while others were already sharpening their weapons.

Laura walked alongside, arms crossed, watching her comrades with a pensive air.

"You've managed to motivate them, but you know that's only part of the problem. It takes more than determination to take on orcs, especially if they're outnumbered."

Maxime nodded, his face now more serious.

"Yes, I know. But we still have a few days to prepare a real strategy. We're not going to rush in headlong. I'm going to meet a few scouts, see if there's any way of getting more information about their camp. We're not walking into a trap."

Laura nodded, impressed by her leader's lucidity despite his usually carefree air.

"Okay, that's reassuring."

The evening continued in a somewhat tense atmosphere, but fortunately for everyone, it ended quickly and everyone went to sleep.

The next day, Laura and Maxime gathered in a small room of the new inn that temporarily served as a strategic meeting room for important discussions.

"We now need to know how many there are, how they move, and above all, where to strike to weaken them before they can strike back."

As they continued to ponder their strategy, one of the young mercenaries entered the room, out of breath.

"Chief, a foreigner has just arrived. She claims to be an envoy from Baron Irut. She says it's urgent."

Maxime and Laura exchanged glances.

"Should we expect a new problem?" asked Laura, suspiciously.

Maxime squinted. "With Baron Irut, who knows. Send her in."

The envoy entered the room, a young woman dressed in light armor, obviously traveling for several days judging by the dust that covered her clothes. She bowed quickly to Maxime and Laura.

"Maxime? Leader of the saber-toothed tigers?"

Maxime stepped forward resolutely.

"That's me."

The woman nodded.

"I've come from Baron Irut. He sends me with some disturbing news."

Maxime raised an eyebrow, approaching her curiously.

"Speak, what's on his mind?"

"Baron Barthon... he's getting ready. We've received reports that he's been building up his forces faster than expected. The attack on his territory could be imminent."

She paused, glancing nervously at Maxime.

"Baron Irut asks you to be ready. He sees you as indispensable support against this threat."

Maxime remained silent for a moment, thinking. Then he straightened up, his eyes sparkling with new resolve.

"Good. Tell the baron he can count on us. But also inform him that we're not yet ready to act recklessly. If he wants us to be one of his bulwarks, he must give us time."

The envoy nodded, relieved by this answer.

"I'll pass on your words to him."

When the envoy left the room, Laura sighed heavily.

"Between the orcs and Baron Barthon, we're in a hell of a fix."

Maxime nodded contemplatively.

"Yes. But it's situations like this that forge legends. If we can get out of this, no one will be able to ignore us anymore."

Laura smiled.

"Well, Maxime, I sincerely hope everything goes as you plan, because if it doesn't, we're all going to die very soon."

Maxime remained silent, aware of the dangers he was taking on.

On the other hand, most of his comrades were simply trying to survive in the world of Eternity.

Usually, they joined a famous mercenary group and went on simple escort missions.

Although there was a slight risk involved, the rewards were well worth the effort to get off to a good start in Eternity.

Some tried to join the forces of certain nobles, preferably viscounts or counts, so as to be able to guarantee a degree of security while having plenty of resources to improve their skills.

Moreover, the advantage was that if they unlocked the knighting talent, they might be able to practice a breathing method and thus have another method than the system to become stronger.

The two methods were compatible and one didn't hinder the other.

But all these methods could take years to achieve even the level of a knight.

Even Maxime, who had a connection time of 2 months to Eternity - 4 or even 8 times longer than most people - would need at least 2 or 3 years to obtain this level of strength.

But here, by his second connection, Maxime was already approaching the strength level of a knight and had a hundred powerful men under his command.

But he knew he had achieved all this by relying on his talent and, above all, by being bold from the start.

At the moment, his eyes were fixed on the map of the south spread out before him. Baron Irut's envoy had just left, and with her, Barthon's ominous shadow now hung over their camp.

The wind outside was blowing harder, as if to indicate that the storm was approaching. Laura, at his side, watched him attentively, sensing the tension rising in her leader's mind.

"So, what do we do, boss?" she asked, her voice softer than usual.

Maxime took a few seconds before answering.

"We're not changing our plans. The orcs are a real threat. If we manage to beat them, it will give us not only fame, but also extra men."

"The nobles of the south will also come to us regularly to ask for protection. What's more, thanks to our future reputation we'll have a strong flow of new recruits and resources."

He stared at Laura, looking determined.

"But to take on Barthon, we'll have to be very quick."

Laura frowned, pondering her leader's words.

"So, you want us to play on both fronts virtually at the same time?"

Maxime nodded.

"Yes. The key is timing. We need to hit the orcs, win a quick and decisive victory. Then we'll turn to Barthon."

Laura crossed her arms, observing the map.

"You realize we're flirting with disaster, right? If we fail against the orcs, Barthon Barthon could take the opportunity to crush us."

Maxime smiled.

"And that's precisely why we can't fail that every step has to be calculated."