Count Tigris Schemes

As Asher walked into the entrance, he saw two bronze-ranked warriors emanating green lights that shrouded their bodies as they ran toward him.

He immediately recognized the wind element as the source of their battle force.

Having slain several men already, Asher no longer felt the need to prepare for these opponents.

His mind was calm as he approached them. When they closed the gap, Asher's speed skyrocketed. He glanced at the wall and dashed towards it.

The entrance was long and narrow, so he reached the wall quickly and stepped on it. Using the borrowed momentum, Asher flew above the warriors, landed behind them, and swung his sword backward.

His sword cut through their flesh without resistance. Both men staggered forward, spitting blood.

Asher's eyes gleamed, but he continued moving forward at a calm pace. As he was almost out of the entrance lobby, he heard the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

In those two weeks of continuous training, he didn't just learn to swing his sword a thousand times under gradually increasing weights; he was also under the tutelage of Alex and Alec. The twins had forged their lord into a skilled swordsman.

Beyond the entrance was a large hall with long wooden dining tables and a throne dominating the middle of a semicircular platform connected to the wall at the other end. Beside the throne stood a woman holding a nocked bow.

As soon as she saw Asher, she let the arrow fly. The next thing Asher knew, he was on the ground, reeling in shock and pain as the arrow lodged near his shoulder, just above his chest.

He blinked, his eyes dilating as a cacophony of noise bombarded him from all sides. The last silver-ranked warrior wasn't a man but a woman, and she was a sharpshooter!

This was unexpected. He hadn't anticipated a woman among the mercenaries since he'd only seen men so far.

Roll!

A voice screamed inside him, and he rolled to his left. At that moment, another arrow lodged into the ground, piercing through the stone floor! Ignoring the pain, Asher jumped to his feet, rushed toward a chair, and kicked it with all his might.

The wooden chair flew into the air, heading towards the sharpshooter. She frowned but, to Asher's astonishment, leaped like a bird, stepped on the chair, and fired two arrows at him. He quickly grabbed another chair, but the arrows pierced through it, grazing his arms.

With clenched teeth, Asher spun and flung the chair with such force that, although the sharpshooter dodged, when the chair hit the wall, it broke, and one of the legs hit her head from behind!

"Ah!"

By the time she regained her bearings, two more chairs were flying toward her.

Bam!

One slammed into her face, causing her head to tilt backward. It wasn't over as the second chair slammed into her torso, knocking her to the ground.

Asher got up from under a dining table and approached the woman. He looked down at her and realized there was no more breath of life in her.

Breaking two chairs with her body might have been brutal, but it was either his survival or hers.

He looked at his bleeding wound with the arrow still stuck in it and sighed. Adapting to the cruel way of life in Boundless wasn't easy, but he had many burdens on him. If he refused to change quickly, he would die.

Sirius squeezed into the hall, prompting Asher to scowl. "Why didn't you arrive earlier?" Sirius looked at him for a moment, then came closer and sniffed his wound.

"Don't lick it; your saliva doesn't have healing properties." Sirius withdrew its head, and Asher chuckled.

"My Lord, you're injured!" Jon exclaimed with a panicked expression when he saw the arrow and bloodstain. He and those he hired to work for him had gathered inside the hall.

"I'm alright," Asher replied softly.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps and turned to his right. From the corridor emerged over thirty women who, with just a glance, Asher knew came from brothels.

"What's a beast doing inside here?!" one of them screamed.

"Get your things and get out," Asher commanded with a frown. Upon seeing the corpse of the silver-ranked sharpshooter, fear gripped the women, and they ran out of the hall without retrieving their belongings.

Asher scoffed and proceeded to search the castle. When he entered Baron Snow's room, he found a letter that had not been completed on a wooden table.

There was a quill and ink beside it, indicating Baron Snow was writing this letter before he came out to meet Asher.

'Sir Tigris, I have received the messenger falcons. I will proceed to investigate the mines in Ash Town and find out if they have truly reclaimed them and how. I hope you fulfill your promise of forging a breastplate made with some of the iron ore and sending more men. While the Ashbourne barony will soon be yours, the Flamehearts, Tyre, and Scarlets are growing, and this will hamper your plans. I request you send more silver-ranked warriors.'

Asher stopped reading at that point. He couldn't believe his eyes. How could Count William Tigris sell lands to people to become barons and then come up with a scheme of placing bandits to rob them?

There was no doubt that his iron ores, worth thirty thousand gold coins, were now in the hands of Count Williams.

Bam!

He slammed the table, leaving a palm print.

"So they don't have any stash of gold here, and my iron ores are gone." Asher's expression hardened.

He turned and saw a tall cage with a white falcon, which had a metal cylinder case attached to its back by a golden belt. The bird stared at him.

Asher squinted, grabbed the bird, and ran out of the castle. He located their cages and found a hundred more messenger falcons, two large carts, and four brown horses.