When people saw the towering, seven-foot-tall wolf with a scar over its left eye, they scrambled from the streets, some diving straight into their stalls for cover.
Even veteran winter knights froze in their positions, unable to move until the wolf walked past them. The sheer pressure it exuded nearly drove one of the knights to his knees, but his comrade steadied him with a firm grip on his shoulder.
“Sirius, you’re frightening the people.”
Asher glanced over his shoulder, squinting at Sirius, who was busy taking in his surroundings. He found this new environment… strange.
Had Nineveh grown smaller after his death?
“Sirius.”
At the sound of his name, the wolf’s ears perked up. It turned toward Asher, noting the faint creases on his forehead.
Just as Sirius was about to shrink his form, a voice cut through the air.
“Let him be,” Lord Winter said. “The people need to know that Kryos has his wolf.”
Isaac chuckled softly but minded his own business. He hadn’t said a word to Asher since they left the temple, and Asher felt his odd behavior intriguing.
“This place…” Asher’s gaze swept over the bustling crowd, his brows raised. “What happened during the past month?”
Lord Winter smiled. “Two strongholds have made an alliance with us. They call it the Achilles Alliance.”
Asher narrowed his eyes. “Achilles Alliance?”
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“The lords of the strongholds want to meet you and they also proposed having your paladins stationed in their strongholds to fend off beasts and beastmen.”
Asher’s lips curled into a smile, but his words remained cold. “My paladins go where I go. I’m not releasing them to take orders from any lord other than I.”
Lord Winter’s eyes gleamed upon hearing his words.
‘I suppose his noble side is back. No longer just a straightforward soldier.’
“Then what are you going to do?” Winter pressed. “This is an opportunity you can’t miss if you plan to expand your domain into these parts.”
Asher’s gaze drifted to the towering winter castle. “Tell them to prove themselves worthy of the alliance, and I’ll send my Frontline troops to their keep.”
‘Frontline troops? He sounds so confident about them.’
Isaac, who quietly walked behind him, noted.
“Actually,” Lord Winter continued, “Gilead Stronghold has an abundance of redwood trees—the ones that are known to be almost as strong as steel. As for Ramoth stronghold…”
Asher followed Lord Winter’s gaze and spotted a woman clad in leather armour inlaid with steel at some critical areas—her chest, shoulders and legs.
She wore a hood that concealed most of her face, but the woman wasn’t the most striking thing in sight.
It was the creature underneath her.
This creature was as tall as a horse but had a body that could compete with a bear’s! But its limbs weren’t as short as a bear’s.
The most unusual and eye-catching feature of this creature was its face—where a snout should have been, there was a sharp, curved beak, making its face similar to that of an eagle!
Its golden-brown fur shimmered as it strode through the street, heading toward a different sector of the stronghold.
“It’s called an Arkon. Arkons, in general, possess remarkable intelligence, impeccable sight, powerful bodies and exceptional stamina. They can easily bring down any Cavalry with horses as mounts.”
Lord Winter turned to Asher. “And it’s a beast found in the Ramoth region. They promise to grant you one as a gift.”
Asher paused. He couldn’t envision a future for himself on that war mount, but he could see something far greater—a legion of thousands of knights riding Arkons.
Perhaps, he could form a formidable force, one that when seen by other nobles from afar, would send fear creeping into their souls, one that would inspire dread at the mention of his house.
A cavalry greater than the Bladebreakers!
But such an ambition might not be fulfilled without investing lots of resources and time.
Through training the paladins, Asher had discovered a crucial secret the upgrade system never told him!
He could actually create a more powerful troop if he invested time and refined their potential himself, forcing out what was inside of them and having the system smoothen the rough areas. This was the reason the paladins were stronger than any other units in the county.
They didn’t become soldiers through the transformation tower. Unfortunately, the transformation tower had its perks—it could mass-produce capable soldiers in exchange for a price.
However, to create the best of the best, units that stood a head taller than the already frightening soldiers produced by the constant upgrades of the system, they needed both human and system contributions.
In other words, a skilled instructor from the very beginning!
It was already too late for those who were already upgraded to reach the expertise of these paladins.
The system had dumped huge amounts of information after each upgrade, but the paladins had to get this information gradually and in the process, they needed it to sink deeper and make their own distinct imprints in their memories.
After minutes of silence, Asher finally opened his mouth “I want more than one.”
He then turned to Isaac. “I also want to hire you to be an instructor for a new troop I plan to create.”
Isaac raised an eyebrow. “What kind of troop?”
“A cavalry.”
“He’s more skilled in raising assassins.” Lord Winter said casually, but those words struck deep into Asher’s mind.
Assassins.
Wasn’t that the greatest weakness of his domain right now? The lack of a secret unit whose sole duty was to weed out the spies in his domain and execute secret missions.
With a powerful organization of adept spies at his command, he would have Ashbourne County within the palm of his hand!
“I’ll make sure to send men to you,” Asher said “I’ll pay you a hundred gold coins for each one you train.”
The offer made Isaac’s eyes widen a bit, but he masked his reaction quickly.
Was Asher always this wealthy?
“I’ll take that offer,” Isaac replied, “but in exchange, I want 100 full sets of diamond-ranked armour. Bring me 100 men, and I guarantee only two will survive the training.”
Asher smiled a bit. He understood that it would be hard to train assassins—especially the dreadful kind he had in mind.
“I’ll send you a thousand men. I expect at least 90 assassins, those that you can personally approve of at the end.”
“Two hundred sets of diamond-ranked armour.”
“Deal.”
