Yes, why not go back? He could treat this journey to the Northland as a new adventure, return to see the family lands, and also put to rest the homesickness that the original owner of this body,
With that thought, Lorist suddenly felt a sense of clarity, as if the heavy burden on his shoulders had been lifted, and he became completely light‑hearted. However, even if he wanted to go back, it wasn't something that could be done on a whim. Lorist still needed to plan carefully, especially to wait for Pat to recover…
Lorist stood at the window of the study, watching Reddy drag Pat into the yard like a dead dog, tie him to the iron spinning chair, then pull the rope underneath and set the chair spinning faster and faster. Pat, strapped to the spinning chair, had been tortured to the brink of death these past few days. Not only did he have no strength to resist, he couldn't even scream. He could only occasionally let out a few weak dry heaves in protest…
Heh, asking for trouble. Did he really think that dynamic visual ability was so easy to obtain? In his previous life, he and his comrades were known as the "iron wall," all of them true men of steel. They wouldn't bat an eye walking through a mountain of knives or a sea of fire, wouldn't grunt if wounded on the battlefield, and could chat and laugh while digging bullets out of their own wounds with a knife. Yet every one of them was afraid of that spinning chair. None could last two days. After just one try, they feared it like a tiger and avoided it like the plague.
It was mainly that the spinning left them feeling dizzy, and the nausea and vomiting were unbearable. All of them, sturdy as iron, became as soft as noodles after getting off that chair. The feeling of being completely out of control was just too terrible. More than four months ago, he himself had used Reddy as a test subject and spent two almost mandatory months getting Reddy to adapt and recover. He remembered that Bodefinger, after his injury healed, had also tried it once and then politely declined. Unless forced by someone, no one could voluntarily go through with it.
Now Reddy was simply repeating the process that Lorist had forced on him back then, only this time the subject was Pat. No wonder he was so elated and gleeful; he was clearly happy that someone else was repeating his same miserable experience. That's human nature: people take great pleasure in watching others go through the same misfortunes they suffered. Just like falling into a pit—once you've climbed out, you still hope more people will fall in afterward.
Pat had been like this for seven days now. It seemed that, like Reddy, he wouldn't recover for at least two months. Lorist thought that even if he went back to the family lands, he shouldn't return empty‑handed with only Sedecamp and Pat. He remembered the family caravan led by his third uncle back then, with a total value of just over a thousand gold Fords—a very small caravan by Morant City's standards. Yet that same caravan, making one round trip a year, earned more than three hundred gold Fords, equivalent to over a thousand imperial old gold coins. And that profit, which was only Lorist's current annual salary, had allowed the
Lorist was not short of gold Fords now. He decided to invest several thousand gold Fords to organize a caravan, or perhaps a transport convoy, to provide a batch of supplies for the Norton family and support the increasingly struggling clan. Whether he would inherit the territory or not, this was at least a contribution that a descendant of Norton should make to the family, and also Lorist's compensation for taking over Little Locke's body.
However, organizing a caravan came with many difficulties. The first was the size of the caravan and what goods to transport. Lorist needed a clear understanding of the situation in the family lands, to know what the family lacked and needed, rather than buying a pile of supplies and transporting them through great hardship only to find that not much of it could be put to use.
That part was easy enough. Despite Sedecamp's
Knowing what supplies were needed was one thing, but what about the caravan's manpower? Lorist racked his brains and could only come up with three names: himself, Sedecamp, and Pat. He wasn't even sure if Reddy would be willing to go. Reddy was only turning seventeen this year, and even with the most diligent training, he could only hope to reach
Next was the route. According to the map, there were three main roads from Morant City to the former imperial capital of the Krisen Empire, and only one road from the capital to the Northland. He recalled that back then, Little Locke had taken fifty-seven days to travel from the Northland to Morant City with the caravan led by his third uncle. Little Locke was riding in a carriage, and the main haul was done by four-wheeled freight wagons, covering about a hundred li a day. That put the Northland at roughly six thousand li from Morant City.
He needed to get the details straight. What about contacting Chairman Peterson? Lorist mulled it over. Peterson's Merchant Guild surely had caravans heading to the capital. If he attached his convoy to theirs, things would be much easier. Once they reached the capital, he could figure out how to get to the Northland.
Finally, there was the matter of the convoy's defense and escort. Word had it that the former Krisen Empire was hardly peaceful these days. Caravans were frequently raided by bandits, with considerable casualties. These reports were regular features in the *Morant City Daily* and the *Mana Hill Business Post*. Having read so many of them, Lorist was naturally not about to let his guard down when it came to the escort. He decided to hire a top-tier mercenary corps for protection and went to the Mercenary Guild to ask about the rates.
Lorist's face had been dark ever since he returned from the Mercenary Guild. No one would have believed that hiring a forty-to-fifty-man mercenary squad to escort a convoy to the Northland would cost a thousand gold Fords, and that was only for a small line of wagons. The Gold-rank mercenary captain had clearly stated that this was the absolute bottom price. If the convoy exceeded twelve wagons, or if the cargo included weapons and armor, the escort fee would double. It wasn't price gouging; it was just the reality of the situation.
After six years of civil war for the throne, the former Krisen Empire was in dire straits. Flames of war raged across the land, and bandits and outlaws were everywhere. Some nobles and lords had even joined in, pretending to be outlaws to rob travelers. If Lorist's convoy was carrying military supplies like weapons and armor, it would inevitably draw the attention of these brigands. If the mercenary corps couldn't cut a bloody path through, there was no way they could complete the escort mission.
As it happened, among the supplies Lorist planned to ship was a batch of weapons and armor, because Sedecamp had mentioned that the family lands were sorely lacking in such equipment. A two-thousand-gold-Ford escort fee was more than double the total value of those weapons and armor. Instead of hiring a mercenary corps, it would be better to temporarily recruit a hundred Silver-rank mercenaries and organize the escort himself. For twenty gold Fords a trip to the Northland, he believed many Silver-rank mercenaries would be eager to sign up. He decided to shelve the escort problem too and figure it out when the time came.
And so Lorist became busy. During this time, he ran all over the commercial district of Morant City, inquiring about the prices of the goods he needed to send to the family lands. Perhaps Lorist viewed this mission of transporting supplies to the family lands as just another mercenary commission he had accepted. Deep down, he didn't really think about what to do after the supplies arrived. He only planned to stay in the family lands for a while, then come back. After all, sending so many supplies to the family was his way of making Little Locke's contribution and fulfilling his duty to the clan. After that, he could stay in Morant City with a clear conscience and enjoy his own life.
—————————— What Lorist didn't expect was that his recent flurry of activity had taken on a completely different meaning in the eyes of the observant. The first person to ask him about it was
Lorist nodded. He *was* planning to go back, but how long he would stay or whether he would take on the role of lord was another matter entirely. Since Redi was here, he might as well share his arrangements. Leaving the boy here to look after the place wasn't a bad idea. "Redi. You'll stay here. The Northland is remote and the road is long. This trip might even be dangerous. You should st—"
"No, Master, I have to go with you." Redi firmly cut off Lorist's unfinished words. "I am your attendant. How could I ever leave your side? I won't let you leave me behind."
Lorist was taken aback. "What about Old Gar and El? They're against it. The journey is too far, too dangerous..."
"I came to Morant City to join a mercenary group. Who knew they wouldn't form one and instead turned into some kind of guild! I'm not going to hang around with them. I have no family left. Now that I follow you, Master, I naturally go wherever you go. No one's objections matter!" Redi's face was flushed red. He had clearly made up his mind.
"Alright, we'll go together." Lorist agreed. He didn't want Redi to feel abandoned. The kid was stubborn and liked to be argumentative. Anyway, he was coming back eventually. He could treat this trip to the Northland as an adventure for Redi. And so, Redi's name was added to the traveling party.
—————————— When Sedecamp left the study, he happened to run into Bodefinger coming up the stairs. He quickly stepped aside and bowed his head respectfully. He had always been curious about this middle-aged mercenary whom the young master treated as an honored guest. A few days ago, Bodefinger had just returned from a mercenary job and had found him to ask in detail about the situation in the Northland and the Norton Family. When Sedecamp learned that this mercenary was also from the Northland and had once served as a captain in the former Krisen Empire's Heavy Armor Legion, his respect grew even deeper.
"Is Locke in the study?" Bodefinger asked.
"Yes," Sedecamp replied.
"Thank you," Bodefinger said.
Locke was organizing a list of supplies needed by the family. He had just called Sedecamp over earlier to ask for details because he was afraid of missing something. Looking at the list, he could see how scarce the resources available on the family's territory really were; he truly wondered how the family had managed to survive in the Northland. Now he had a terrible headache. If he were to ship all the supplies on the list to the family's territory, he would need no less than a hundred long‑distance cargo wagons. And leading a train of a hundred wagons all the way to the Northland was something he was not capable of either. It seemed he would have to cut down on the list, choose only the most urgent supplies to purchase, and keep the convoy size to twenty or thirty wagons at most—that would be the easiest to manage.
"When are you going back?" Bodefinger asked Locke.
Locke leaned back, stretched, and said, "I have to wait for Pat to recover, another two months or so. I plan to set off around the twentieth of November."
Bodefinger nodded slowly. "I asked Sedecamp about your family's situation when I got back a couple of days ago. It's pretty dire both internally and externally. I thought you wouldn't go back."
Locke smiled and shook his head. "No choice. The family needs me now. As a descendant of the Norton Family, I have to go back and share their hardships." He felt he sounded too melodramatic, maybe overacting, as if he were really giving up everything in Morant City to go back and suffer on the family's territory.
"By the way, Bog, you came just in time. I have something for you," Locke quickly changed the subject.
Locke opened a drawer, took out a high‑level Combat Force manual and also five gold yuan notes, and placed them on the table.
"Bog, you have metal‑affinity Combat Force, right? This is a Combat Force manual I prepared for you. It can train you to the peak of the Gold rank, and it includes a passage written by the original owner after his advancement to Great Swordmaster—his insights and gains. The manual was given to me by my ex‑girlfriend as a keepsake when we broke up, but it's useless to me. Now I'm passing it on to you. I hope you'll break through to Gold rank as soon as possible. As for whether you can become a Great Swordmaster in the future, that depends on your own hard work. Don't refuse; consider it a farewell gift from me."
Bodefinger lowered his head, his body trembling slightly.
Locke didn't notice, too focused on explaining his arrangements for Bodefinger's family. "As for these five hundred gold coins, they're not for you. They're a gift from me, as his teacher, to my student Schwartz and the lovely Alisa. You're just holding onto them for now. Schwartz has decent talent, but you still need to pay attention to his nutrition and physical training. Once he awakens his Combat Force, you can start teaching him the basics. If his Combat Force attribute is different from yours, I'll find a way to get him a high-level Combat Force manual."
"Oh, and once I leave, I'm sure you won't want to keep living here. I've already asked El to buy a house near the Red Crow Tavern for your family to move into. That way, when you go out on mercenary missions, Old Gar from the Red Crow Tavern can look after Schwartz and Alisa. Actually, Bog, think it over. If you're willing, I'll have the academy hire you as an Instructor. After you advance to Gold rank, you can live here. It'd be better for the kids too…"
Before Locke could finish, Bodefinger, who was standing in front of him, suddenly stood up and walked out the door without looking back.
"Uh…?" Locke was taken aback. What was the meaning of this?
After a while, Locke heard footsteps in the hallway, followed by a knock on the door. Bodefinger had returned.
But Bodefinger had changed into a formal suit. It looked like the dress uniform of a former Krisen Empire officer, complete with a sword at his side. Bodefinger stepped forward very solemnly, then knelt down on one knee before Locke, holding his sword in both hands above his head. Bowing his head, he announced, "Gurei Bodefinger, former captain of the Ninth Brigade, Third Heavy Armor Regiment, White Lion Corps, Imperial Defense Army, willingly pays homage to Norton Locke as my liege lord, and pledges my loyalty to the Norton Family. May the God of War have mercy, allowing me to perform meritorious deeds under the banner of Norton and not fail my liege's expectations."
Locke was so shocked he jumped to his feet. This was the Homage Rite. It was generally a rite of allegiance performed by subjects when paying court to a sovereign, such as an emperor, a king, or the Grand Duke of a duchy. If this rite was used for a noble, it meant the one performing it would have their fate bound to the liege lord receiving the rite. No matter how rich or poor their lord might be in the future, the performer would remain loyally by their side, unwavering for life, even following them if they committed treason or rebellion. This was a relationship even deeper than that between a Family Knight and their head.
"Bog, you… you…" Locke didn't know what to do.
Bodefinger bowed his head and remained silent, keeping his posture.
Wasn't it said that both sides were supposed to discuss it beforehand before performing the Homage Rite? How could it be such a surprise attack? Having no choice, Locke stepped forward, took the longsword Bodefinger had offered, drew it from its sheath, and lightly tapped Bodefinger twice on the head and each shoulder with the flat of the blade, reciting, "From today onwards, our bloodlines are joined. You regard me as your liege lord, and I regard you as my own limbs. Let the God of War witness our oath, and let the years engrave the brilliance of our future."
Locke had to respond; if he hesitated too long, the one performing the rite would feel ignored. That would be the greatest insult—in severe cases, the person might kill themselves on the spot, or at the very least, consider Locke their eternal enemy.
Taking the longsword Locke handed over, Bodefinger stood up and bowed deeply to Locke. "My lord."
Locke smiled wryly. "Bog, why put yourself through this? You could have stayed out of it, living it up in Morant City. Why jump into this fire with me?"
Bodefinger chuckled lightly. "I'm not staying in Morant City. Truth is, I've long wanted to go back to my hometown in Northland. But even if I go back, I'd still have to join some family, so I might as well follow you, my lord. Besides, you've done me a great kindness. Isn't it fitting to pledge myself to you as my liege?"
"What about the two children?" Locke said, his head aching...
"I've already asked Schward. He said you are his teacher, so of course he'll come with you. As for Eliza, she should grow up strong and healthy, like a wildflower in the mountains, not delicate like a greenhouse flower. I think you've been too soft on her. A daughter of Northland must return to the Northland to be tempered by the wind and snow." Bodefinger replied.
"Sigh..." Well, now the travel group to Northland had gained Bodefinger's family.
"Take this secret manual. I hope that in two months' time, I can break through to the Gold rank, so I can serve you better, my lord."
Bodefinger turned to leave.
"Bog, from now on, don't call me 'my lord.' Just call me by my name, like before." Locke said.
"Alright, Lord Locke."
...