Mercenary System: I can increase innate potential !-Chapter 94: First mission in the south

"We have an agreement then," he replied, extending his hand towards Ardan.

The Count shook hands with Maxime, formalizing the alliance.

"Excellent. I’ll have provisions and detailed maps of the most endangered areas prepared."

"Oh by the way, I didn’t mention it, but you can let your men live and eat here."

"I think that would be both beneficial to the apprentice knights at the academy and to your mercenaries, especially your new recruits."

Maxime was happy to hear this news.

He was going to save gold on food and lodging, so how could he not be?

But this happiness was quickly disrupted.

A crash resounded from the courtyard, drawing their attention.

The duels between mercenaries and students had taken on a new intensity.

Through the window, they could see Andrew, sword in hand, in battle with Alden, one of the best fifth-year students at the Purple Knight Academy.

The two adversaries were exchanging rapid blows, their movements exuding a fluidity and precision that drew the attention of all onlookers.

Ardan, an enigmatic smile on his lips, observed the scene.

"This student is named Alden, he is the son and principal heir of Baron Roulf."

Maxime looked at Ardan, waiting for him to elaborate.

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"He’s an apprentice knight at the stage of great success and he’s really not far from the peak stage."

"Your mercenary will probably be defeated."

But Maxime shook his head.

"Andrew is one of the strongest mercenaries under my command, and more importantly he’s one of the few mercenaries who have been with me from the beginning."

"I think he has a chance."

The Count was surprised; even he found it hard to believe that, apart from Maxime, his men could achieve such a high level of strength.

Reading reports was one thing, seeing it with his own eyes was quite another.

"I find it hard to believe, Alden has his own method of breathing and he’s been training longer than the other students here."

"What’s more, he’s naturally gifted with a talent for swordsmanship, making him a true genius."

Maxime smiles in response, the facts will speak for him.

"See for yourself."

On the ground, blows followed one another with almost supernatural speed, the sound of metal echoing through the air like a violent melody.

Andrew’s every move seemed wild and incoherent, but he himself knew that he absolutely calculated every gesture he made.

In the absence of training methods, all mercenaries became like this, developing their own style of mastery according to the weapons they wielded.

Maxime’s talent enabled them to do such a thing, which normally could only be done by geniuses.

However, Alden, with his experience and rigorous training, seemed to anticipate every attack, countering with disconcerting ease.

Murmurs intensified among the spectators who had gathered around the courtyard.

Some were betting on the noble prodigy, Alden, while others, fascinated by the strength of the mercenaries, were hoping Andrew would stand up to one of the academy’s top students.

Andrew, muscles taut and eyes focused, managed to get dangerously close to Alden with an unexpected sequence of moves.

A series of subtle feints led Alden to step back for the first time since the beginning of the duel. A murmur of astonishment ran through the crowd.

Maxime felt a surge of pride mixed with a hint of apprehension. Andrew was good, but the longer the duel went on, the more he saw what a formidable opponent Alden was.

In a duel, anything can happen very quickly.

As if to respond to his opponent’s audacity, Alden abruptly changed his rhythm.

He pivoted to the side, exploiting an unexpected angle to deliver a swift blow that grazed Andrew’s shoulder.

The latter barely dodged, the sweat beading on his forehead and the tension in the air becoming palpable.

Maxime squinted, analyzing every movement, every detail of Andrew’s posture from the window of the Count’s office.

He knew that even the slightest mistake would be enough to tip the balance.

It was then that Andrew, taking a deep breath, adopted a different approach as they exchanged blows.

Rather than attacking head-on, he opted for a defensive posture, a thin smile appearing on his lips.

Alden, surprised by this change, hesitated for a fraction of a second to change his style and become aggressive, and that was all Andrew needed.

He immediately went back on the offensive, surprising his opponent with this chaotic sword style.

First, he swung his sword as a feint, putting only one point of strength into the strike.

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By the time Alden received the blow and saw the lack of power, it was already too late.

Andrew immediately bent down and delivered a powerful sweep to Alden.

Alden fell immediately.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a red-haired young man pointing a sword at his throat.

A muffled silence fell over the courtyard, followed by loud applause.

Sir Alaric approached Andrew, took his left arm and raised it.

"I declare Andrew, mercenary with the Saber-toothed Tigers, winner of this duel!"

"Impressive." murmured Ardan, his eyes showing surprise but also satisfaction.

Maxime smiled discreetly. This duel was important because it had cemented the fact that his mercenaries could stand on an equal footing with the apprentice knights of the academy.

Then the sound of applause began to fade, giving way to animated conversation between the spectators.

Alden, for his part, rose to his feet with dignity, despite his defeat, and extended his hand to Andrew. A gesture which, for all present, symbolized more than a simple duel: it was a sign of recognition, a tacit acceptance of his opponent’s strength.

Andrew, slightly out of breath, took Alden’s hand and helped him to his feet, provoking new murmurs from the crowd.

The exchange of glances between the two young men was marked by mutual respect, a respect that was not given, but deserved.

Ardan turned back to Maxime.

"You must know that this victory will change many things here. Many students at the academy will not tolerate being weaker than mercenaries."

Maxime nodded.

"That’s good news then, they’ll put more effort and sweat into their training, and less blood will flow on the battlefield."

The Count smiled, amused by the young mercenary leader’s audacity.

A messenger rushed into the office just then, breaking off their conversation. The young man, out of breath, carried a parchment with burnt edges, obviously brought in urgently.

"Your Lordship, a report from the scouts. Orc troops have been spotted a day’s march from the village of Irina."

Ardan grasped the parchment with a firm hand, his features hardening as he heard the words.

He quickly read the report in less than two minutes, then looked up at Maxime, a determined glint in his eye.

"Prepare your men. If you accept, your first mission will begin tomorrow."