Lord of the Myriad Worlds

Chapter 181: Scout Captain

That was a bit of a dilemma.

George's first thought was whether Blood Wolves counted as large creatures or medium-to-small ones. They were canine, presumably — which would make the Dog Butcher upgrade extremely targeted.

As for large creatures, warhorses certainly qualified.

If he could cause dozens of warhorses to panic on the battlefield at once — that would be extraordinary. But that was absolutely not something a single upgrade to Bear Hunter could realistically achieve.

There was also the long-term consideration. His intended primary career path was Scout, and a Scout's natural enemies would include hunting dogs. Not the ragged strays of Kakh City's alleys — trained hunting dogs were in a different class entirely.

And frankly, the Fallen Knights-plus-mongrel-dog combination outside Kakh City was already a sloppy arrangement. Any competent setup — trained dogs plus elite soldiers — would have made George's infiltration completely impossible.

'And yet — when would I ever need to infiltrate somewhere like that again? Situations like Kakh City don't come up often. I'm not trying to be a cat burglar.'

George weighed his options and let his gaze settle back on the third title upgrade. Perception +1 was a genuinely powerful attribute — but Tracker's flaw was its brutal resource cost, draining his Stamina in minutes and leaving him starving. Cutting that consumption by 50% was a significant return on investment.

In sum: Bear Hunter and Dog Butcher were excellent for standard combat situations, but the Tracker title would serve him better in higher-stakes engagements by extending his advantage.

George stopped deliberating. He spent 3,000 Temple Reputation in one go, upgrading the Tracker title by half a level and reducing its consumption by 50%.Then he left Victor Town at a brisk pace and made his way back to the assembly point.

Calling it a great army was generous — counting craftsmen and farmers together, the total headcount was under two hundred. Hardly a conquering force. But within this region, it was the maximum force Level 2 Priest Joseph could mobilize. To avoid Duke Weir flying into a rage, to keep the news from reaching the King and alarming the royal family — the best possible outcome was mopping up Kakh City's crisis with this small a group. Not every problem could be escalated.

That was the art of governance.

George scanned the camp carefully. Hathaway — absent. Confirmed.

He'd been about to pull Ron aside for a quiet word, but five towering Temple Guard Cavalry had formed a solid ring around Ron and Priest Joseph — the pair looked like a military high command, and anyone who got too close risked getting run through first and questioned second.

The storyline had shifted. He was no longer the protagonist.

"Li Wei! Commander's orders — you are appointed Scout Captain. Lead our team forward fifty kilometers, covering the army's flanks and advance. Confirm no ambushes ahead!"

Little John strode up with Fila, Shelt, and Li Zhengxing in tow, carrying the commander's — Ron's — orders.

George nearly checked whether he'd misheard. This was a joke, wasn't it? Pass over a Four-Star Hunter for Scout Captain and give it to him instead?

"Stop overthinking it. In terms of familiarity with the terrain around Kakh City, I'm behind you. Let's move." Little John added in a low voice.

Fine, that reasoning was sound enough. But dragging the profiteer Fila along?

"Any chance we can swap her out for someone else?"

"No. She's a profiteer, yes, but her logistics support capability is excellent."

"Fair enough." George gave Little John a long look. The aura of a man reconciled with his own death was even stronger now.

'Hathaway, Hathaway — so you really are pulling something behind the scenes. But why? With Level 2 Priest Joseph suppressing the Grand Witch Luna, everything after that should be straightforward. What happened over the past seven days?'

He thought of how Hathaway had spent twenty full days concealed in the Snow Mountains of the Rosemyre range — which meant she had a formidable capacity for infiltration and patience. It was entirely possible Ron and Hathaway were running the classic strategy: strike with your main force openly, win with your hidden force in secret. The army as the upright blade, the concealed player as the curved one.

George genuinely didn't understand the art of war. That was hardly surprising — which civilian in twenty-first century Earth did? If someone actually knew, that would be the truly strange thing.

Regardless — treat it as a learning experience. Use imagination, pay attention to details, and do what he was actually good at.

And scouting was something George was genuinely good at.

Running away was also something he was genuinely good at.

Moving at a quick march with the others, he had already begun mentally mapping the terrain — which features would demand the most attention along the route.

"John, I suggest we split into three groups. You and I each operate solo; Fila, Shelt, and Li Zhengxing form a third group. You and I serve as visible sentries and mobile scouts — they serve as a concealed position."

"My thinking is simple: that group of three should secure a commanding height — somewhere with a clear view over fifty-odd kilometers in every direction — and construct a temporary defensive position. That means chopping trees. Do they have an axe? No? Li Zhengxing, run back and get one. Don't look at me like that — yes, you're the concealed unit, but fortifying a key position with a basic barricade is a meaningful defense against a surprise attack."

"Fila — what are you muttering about?" George turned around suddenly. He'd heard her, low and indistinct, but with less than ten meters between them, even a mosquito's hum wouldn't have escaped his ears.

"Oh — ha — I mean, brother, is all this really necessary? The commander told us to push forward fifty kilometers. That's a one-day operation. You're telling me we need to construct a defensive position? We're scouts, not garrison troops..."

Fila was somewhere between incredulous and joking. She was still nursing a grievance — she'd only slipped away to network with the military merchants and was ready to run a modest little side business, when Ron had dragged her out to play advance guard. Of all the nerve.

George stopped walking and turned to look at the profiteer. She met his eyes with a mild smile. Don't you dare smile. George was perfectly capable of charging her with insubordination in the field.

But before he could say a word, Little John had already moved — a gust, a blur, and a single kick. Fila didn't have time to react. She went airborne — high, far, and screaming — and hit the ground with a solid thud.

Well deserved.

Absolutely well deserved.

In an ordinary situation, a little banter was fine enough. But you choose this moment for negotiating? Military orders are absolute. Did nobody explain this concept to you?

Fila lay facedown in the dirt for several long seconds, stunned. Then she picked herself up without a word. To her credit, she was a Four-Star player — she knew when to stop.

George looked at Little John, slightly unsettled. The man was barely holding himself together.

'What does it matter,' George thought quietly. 'What's the point of all this.'

"Shelt — your group of three, take your lead from him. I'll tell you exactly where to position. Follow my instructions precisely, or I will have consequences for you."

"Understood!" Shelt answered loudly and crisply — though privately, he wasn't entirely convinced.

Five people pushed out fifty kilometers to cover the flanks of an entire army? That was the kind of order that assumed five flying ghost-runners. But he had more sense than Fila. Thank you for suffering on our behalf, big sister.

Long may she endure.

Little John's expression was neutral. As if nothing had happened at all.

"Everyone stay off the center of the road. Stick to tree shadow wherever possible. John — were you responsible for reconnaissance in this direction over the past several days? Give me your findings."

"Yes. For the past seven days, I've walked this route once every day — roughly two hundred kilometers round trip. I'm confident: the Grand Witch and Mad Baron inside Kakh City have shown no signs of moving north. The crows remain concentrated over the forests around Kakh City itself."

"Given that, you should be Scout Captain — not me. What is Ron thinking?"

Little John paused for just a beat, then answered steadily: "That wasn't Ron's idea. It was Hathaway's suggestion. She said you were the better fit."

George looked at him. "Where is Hathaway?"

"I don't know. She operates alone. She's been gone for three days without a trace."

"Any resentment?"

"Resentment? Nothing as significant as that. The bigger picture takes precedence — Hathaway wouldn't suggest something like this without a reason."

George nodded and said nothing more. He had his answer. Ron and Hathaway had absolutely made some private arrangement. And their choice to make him Scout Captain? Hathaway might as well have broadcast it in plain text: 'you are the bait.'

As for where this was heading — George had very little room to maneuver. He could either walk away from the Rookie King title, or let himself be arranged into position. And he wasn't doing it alone — four others were coming along as bait right alongside him.

Could the five of them together hold out until Hathaway revealed herself?

They marched in rapid formation from that point on, pausing only once for ten minutes to eat and drink. They pushed forward along the King's Highway for nearly eighty kilometers, until a steep rocky hill materialized ahead. George was about to call a halt when Little John had already stopped.

"John — do you know this hill?"

"Of course. The ridgeline runs east-west, but this hill rises to command views north and south — a strategically obvious chokepoint. That no watchtower was ever built here is an oversight, and for precisely that reason, even someone who knew nothing about tactics would know to scout this position carefully."

"Over the past seven days, I've climbed this hill every day. I can say with certainty that as of yesterday midday, there were no forces in ambush up there."

George nodded once. If Little John said so, then he could trust it — except he absolutely couldn't.

Given that Hathaway had been absent for three days, George was reasonably certain she was going all in. She'd pulled off assassinating the Ice Witch Hathaway once before from concealment — that kind of gambler doesn't stop. For someone with her track record, taking out a black-robed Witch was practically a repetition of a previous trick.

The main army bearing forward openly — Ron's force, the upright blade.

Hathaway hiding in the shadows — the curved, unseen strike.

And George's team of five — bait. Officially the advance scout unit, actually the lure.

'I have to ask then,' he thought. 'Without me summoning a Two-Star Blood Raven, what's going to draw the black-robed Witch over here?'

He was still turning that over as he snapped out orders.

"This hill is critical ground — whoever holds it controls the safe advance of our army behind us."

"Rest here five minutes. Eat and drink. Then, John — circle around from the south. Keep eyes on every angle and find a concealed route to the summit. If there are troops waiting at the top, you'll have cover from our distraction to loop around and strike from behind."

"Yes, sir!"

George turned to Fila, Shelt, and Li Zhengxing — who were all wearing various degrees of resigned discomfort.

"I'll take the north face. You three take the west face. Don't slow down — push all the way to the top in one go. Get ready to fight. I'll cover you with arrows. Shelt, Li Zhengxing — shields up. Watch for rolling logs and rocks."