Giant Dragon Lord: Starting from Daily Intelligence-Chapter 83: Calling a Deer a Horse

"Raylo, think this through!"

Baron Mengde roared.

"You’re causing trouble now and delaying His Highness’s important business. Are you trying to oppose His Highness?"

Raylo burst out laughing.

"Mengde, who do you think you are? You don’t have the right to represent His Highness."

"You’re always using His Highness’s name to commit your evil deeds. Today, I’ll teach you a lesson on his behalf!"

With that, Raylo stopped talking to him and steered his Storm Griffin back to the front of his own formation.

Raylo urged his Storm Griffin forward. The current from its flapping wings made the banner of Black Stone Territory behind him flutter violently.

"Mengde."

Raylo’s voice carried clearly to everyone’s ears.

"I’m giving you one last chance. Hand over all the remnants of the Blood Wolf Corps and compensate for the damages. Otherwise, after today, Ironthorn Territory will cease to exist."

Baron Mengde trembled with rage, his face shifting from red to purple, then from purple to a sickly green.

"Raylo! You’ve gone too far! Do you really think Ironthorn Castle is made of mud?!"

He abruptly drew the sword from his waist and pointed it forward.

"Warriors of Ironthorn Territory! This madman has brought war to our doorstep! He wants to steal our homes and violate our wives and daughters! Take up your weapons! For the glory of Ironthorn Territory, we fight to the death!"

However, only a few scattered shouts answered him. Facing an enemy that outnumbered them several times over, most of the soldiers looked terrified, their hands trembling as they gripped their weapons.

They saw the army of Black Stone Territory behind Raylo, ferocious as a pack of wolves and tigers. The overwhelming killing intent they radiated was far beyond anything the poorly trained garrison soldiers could compare to.

This was especially true of the Storm Griffin circling at a low altitude and the thirty-some Pegasus Knights clad in silver armor and carrying long spears.

With these Flying Cavalry present, not only could they not win a fight, but they couldn’t even dream of escaping.

Standing beside Baron Mengde, Captain Hogg of the Iron Skull Mercenary Corps—the man Raylo had just falsely accused of being "Scar-faced Jon"—now had a face blacker than the bottom of a pot.

He was the great Captain Hogg of the Iron Skull Mercenary Corps, a man of some renown in the Duchy. When had he ever suffered such a ridiculous insult?

If not for his fear of the Storm Griffin beneath Raylo and the imposing might of his army, Hogg would have charged forward to fight Raylo to the death long ago.

But now, he’d been branded as a leader of the Blood Wolf Corps. He wouldn’t be able to clear his name even if he jumped into the Black Water River.

But now...

He glanced at Baron Mengde beside him, who was already at a complete loss, and then at the garrison soldiers whose legs were clearly turning to jelly. The fighting spirit in his heart instantly cooled by half.

’Risk my life for this idiot Mengde, drag myself and the entire Iron Skull Mercenary Corps down with him, and end up taking the fall for colluding with bandits?’

’I, Hogg, wasn’t that stupid.’

"Raylo, you little brat, you’ve gone too far!"

Baron Mengde was still roaring, fierce in appearance but cowardly at heart, trying to salvage a shred of dignity.

He turned to Hogg. "Captain Hogg, this beast has insulted my Ironthorn Territory and dragged your name through the mud! If we join forces, we might just be able to..."

Hearing this, Hogg almost coughed up a mouthful of old blood.

He turned his head and stared at Baron Mengde as if he were looking at an idiot.

’At a time like this, your own Ironthorn Territory’s army won’t charge, yet you’re trying to trick my Mercenary Corps into leading the assault for you?’

’You must take me for a fool.’

"Baron Mengde, at this point, what do you expect me to say? That I should spill the last drop of my blood for your crumbling Ironthorn Castle? Or should I thank you for giving me the bandit nickname ’Scar-faced Jon’ for no reason, forcing me to cover my face whenever I go out from now on?"

His voice wasn’t loud, but in the silence, it was exceptionally clear.

Upon hearing this, the surrounding Ironthorn Castle soldiers turned pale as dust. Many of them began to shuffle backward quietly, putting distance between themselves and Baron Mengde.

Baron Mengde, choked with anger, turned bright red. He opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a single word.

He could feel the authority he had painstakingly built collapsing before his very eyes.

Below the walls, Raylo saw that the time was right and a cold smirk played on his lips.

He didn’t order a full-scale assault, merely raising a hand slightly.

"ROAR!"

At the same time, Thor, who was beside Raylo, spurred his Armored Rhinoceros forward a few steps, pointing his Knight’s Greatsword directly at Ironthorn Territory’s army.

"Baron Mengde, my Lord’s patience is limited! Resist stubbornly, and you will only find death! Dismount and surrender, and you might just save your own life!"

The military formation of Black Stone Territory began to press forward slowly. The heavy sound of their footsteps beat like war drums on the hearts of every defender of Ironthorn Castle.

This silent pressure was more impactful than any war drum or battle cry.

Baron Mengde had come out in a hurry, bringing only a few dozen Personal Guard Knights and a few dozen soldiers. Adding the dozens of knights from the Iron Skull Mercenary Corps, his total force was just over a hundred men.

Now, they faced the full might of Raylo’s side, a powerful army of nearly five hundred, with over thirty Flying Cavalry circling menacingly in the sky.

"CLANG!"

A harsh metallic clang rang out as a soldier from Ironthorn Castle, unable to bear the immense psychological pressure any longer, let his long spear slip from his grasp and fall to the ground. His face was ashen, and his legs gave way, causing him to kneel.

This act was like a signal, and panic spread as quickly as a plague.

"CLANG!"

"CLATTER..."

The sound of weapons hitting the ground rose and fell in waves.

"Don’t kill me! I surrender! I surrender!"

"We were forced into this! It has nothing to do with us!"

Cries and pleas for mercy erupted all at once.

The so-called "fight to the death" was nothing but a joke in the face of absolute power and terror.

Baron Mengde watched this scene, his eyes nearly splitting from rage, his body swaying unsteadily.

He stretched out a hand, pointing at the soldiers who had thrown down their helmets and armor, his lips trembling.

"You... you bunch of... cowards! Traitors!"

However, no one paid any attention to his roars now.

Captain Hogg watched the rout, which was as sudden and total as a landslide. He let out a heavy sigh, and the anger of being falsely accused on his face was gradually replaced by a sense of helpless exasperation.

’Dammit, what kind of mess is this?!’

He cleared his throat, gathered his strength, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Baron Raylo! The Iron Skull Mercenary Corps has no quarrel with your Black Stone Territory! We Mercenaries only work for money; we don’t get involved in territory disputes between nobles! More importantly, I am who I am—Hogg, Captain of the Iron Skull Mercenary Corps! Not some bullshit ’Scar-faced Jon’! You’ve got the wrong goddamn man! I can swear this to the heavens!"

As he shouted, he signaled for his Mercenaries to put down their weapons.

The members of the Iron Skull Mercenary Corps acted as if they’d received a general amnesty, hastily throwing their weapons to the ground, terrified that a moment’s delay would get them branded as die-hards.

Listening to Hogg’s frantic and somewhat aggrieved explanation, Raylo almost laughed out loud.

This was exactly the effect he wanted.

Although the Iron Skull Mercenary Corps wasn’t a top-tier power, it had some renown in the surrounding regions. If he could dismantle it without shedding blood, that would be for the best.

"Oh?"

Raylo raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

"Not ’Scar-faced Jon’? Then where did that impressive-looking scar on your face come from? Did you perhaps scratch yourself by accident?"

Hogg was so choked with anger he nearly couldn’t catch his breath. Pointing at the old wound on his face, he said indignantly,

"This is a medal of honor I earned when I cut down a Three-headed Earth Dragon in the Mist Forest back in the day! What does it have to do with those bastards from the Blood Wolf Corps? Not even half a Copper Coin’s worth!"

"Alright."

Raylo waved his hand, cutting off his roar.

"Whether you’re ’Scar-faced Jon’ or not will be determined in due time. For now, take your men, lay down all your weapons and equipment, and gather by the hill over there. We will verify your identities. If you have no connection to the Blood Wolf Corps, you will, of course, be released."

Hogg gritted his teeth. When you’re under someone else’s roof, you have to bow your head.

He knew that any further arguments were pointless right now. His life was what mattered most.

He waved his hand, signaling his Mercenaries to comply.