Chapter 122: Wade’s Yearning

Wade listened as Igna recounted the friction between the Black Cat Society and the Deer Blood Faction. The Dragonborn had proactively expanded their influence, and Jessia had already gone to seize that smuggling warehouse. It was a salt warehouse, storing the salt the Deer Blood Faction planned to smuggle to Tania during winter.  

But the Dragonborn were not attacking that warehouse just for the salt. Their main objective was the reindeer bred by the Deer Blood Faction and the intelligence about the trade routes controlled by the faction.  

With reindeer, they would have fast transportation across snowy lands. The Dragonborn wanted to gain control over the Deer Blood Faction’s transport network to find a way to leave the northern territory.  

At the same time, she wanted to recruit the defeated and establish her own organization.  

One person’s strength was limited. Her people had been sold by merchants to unknown places. To rescue her kin, she needed an organization capable of gathering intelligence.  

After hearing Igna’s report, Wade thought to himself that the Dragonborn was indeed impressive. Not only could she manage the Black Cat Society well, but she could also expand outward, commanding the society to operate according to her plans.  

If it were him, he definitely couldn’t do such a thing.  

He had a clear understanding of his own abilities; management was not his strong suit. He hadn’t even been a dorm leader, let alone a team captain. Managing a team was not easy.  

A team of ten people could easily run into problems. Getting ten people to run in step was no simple matter, let alone making a few hundred people operate according to one’s will.  

An inexperienced and incapable person would eventually be sidelined.  

To be honest, he couldn’t even tell loyalists from rebels in a six-player card game, so he shouldn’t expect to accomplish anything great.  

But judging by the Dragonborn’s performance, perhaps she really could integrate those chaotic people and rebuild an organization.  

“Lord Wade, these are roughly the events that happened in the past ten days,” the Dragonborn said. “Do you have any suggestions or opinions?”  

Wade shook his head. He didn’t have much advice to give her. He would just let her take charge.  

However, if a fight was needed, he could still help a bit.  

He wrote on a piece of paper to convey his thoughts to the Dragonborn.  

She understood, and then both she and Wade went about their own business.  

Wade stayed in the room, studying skill books and learning their techniques, while the Dragonborn handled follow-up matters related to the Deer Blood Faction.  

The next day, Slave Number Three and the managers from the smuggling warehouse were brought back by the catfolk.  

The Dragonborn repeated her old trick: Wade pretended to be a lich to shatter their psychological defenses through fear and atmosphere, then she used Slave Mark Scrolls on the Deer Blood Faction members.  

The number of slaves under her control increased from four to ten.  

Wade recalled that this kind of mental control magic had a limit to how many people could be controlled, depending on the owner’s mental strength. This magic had a light burden, but generally, controlling five people at once was already somewhat exhausting. Controlling more would cause headaches and dizziness.  

But Igna didn’t seem affected at all. She controlled the ten slaves with ease.  

Perhaps it was because of her racial talent. Half a month had passed since Wade rescued her. Her external wounds had basically healed, and the bandages on her hands and legs were removed.  

Her complexion improved greatly. The Dragonborn’s physique was stronger than most races. It was not surprising that she could control so many people.  

In short, Wade spent these days studying skill books in his room.  

Two skill books were also found in the warehouse and sent to Wade.  

Warrior, thief, and ranger—Wade was learning the techniques for all these combat styles on his own.  

He stayed indoors, not going out because there was nothing he could do outside.  

Igna went out every day, moving back and forth between the warehouse and the ratfolk’s cave, consolidating this new force.  

Every night she would return to rest and report to Wade what had happened that day, then sleep in the large cat nest lined with wool.  

Mia played by herself on the snowy mountain. She floated out the window from Wade’s room and immersed herself in making little figures in the snow. Sometimes she brought back a big pile of snow into the room and built snowmen inside.  

In the corner, she made herself a small snow castle about a meter tall. During his free time, Wade would draw diagrams for her, and she would follow the blueprints to build the castle like stacking building blocks.  

In front of the castle’s gate, she made snow soldiers. That morning, she stood on the castle wall like a general, and below, a whole row of snow soldiers lined up and saluted her with their heads raised.  

The morning sunlight shone through the window, bathing the small castle in golden light and turning the scales on the sleeping Igna golden as well.  

Mia stood atop the roughly one-meter-high castle. The snow soldiers at her feet all had skeletal appearances. Each palm-sized snow skeleton soldier was modeled after Wade. Upon close inspection, one could see that the soldiers were not identical templates; each was different.  

Some wore helmets and looked like wandering knights; others held round-headed maces, while some wielded swords and shields.  

Some were images Mia had seen before, and some were her own imaginings.  

The details were meticulously done. Each palm-sized snow skeleton soldier had clearly visible ribs, wrist joints, and finger bones accurately recreated.  

Mia could even control the little soldiers to walk according to her will. This scene was rare, evoking a sense of leisure and peace, as if Wade had returned to a calm land and to a time of tranquility without worries.  

Outside, the Dragon’s Spine was desolate, surrounded by endless ice fields.  

Even though the Icelanders’ warships were docked at the Lizardmen Faction’s port, there was no sense of war here.  

The battlefield was too far from this place. He couldn’t hear the sounds of battle or see corpses and bloodstains. No one disturbed him in the ratfolk’s cave, and the Dragonborn handled things outside for him.  

It felt like he was on vacation—and indeed, it was like a vacation.  

When he saw Mia finish inspecting her icy snow castle, float down from the wall, land on his shoulder, and hug his neck, he thought… if it could always be like this, it wouldn’t be so bad.  

This kind of leisurely time was exactly what he had longed for and craved.  

If not for the wasteland being too desolate, too ruined, and full of mysteries and dangers, he would not have bothered to seek a way out.  

For many years, he had been a person who went with the flow. Even his own death, he had calmly accepted ten years ago.  

What did this war have to do with him?  

He was neither Tanian nor Icelander. He was just an outsider.  

Whether demon or righteous god, what did they have to do with a dead skeleton like him?  

If there were people suffering nearby, of course, he would be willing to lend a hand, but he could never save everyone suffering in the world. Not even saints could do that.  

He sat by the window, feeling the sunlight, suddenly feeling a bit dazed.  

But looking at his bony hands, he shook his head and quickly returned to reality.  

It took five days for him to finish reading all the skill books.  

If he were still an ordinary baker hiding in this cave, it wouldn’t matter much to stay hidden.  

But he was no longer that useless baker. He stood up, grasped the sword hilt, and slung the longbow onto his back.  

Yesterday, the Dragonborn told him she had confirmed the port occupied by the Icelanders. In the past half month, the Icelanders had done only one thing—they slaughtered demi-humans in different places.  

The reason was unknown.  

For a long time, Wade had been passive.  

But this time, he wanted to try taking the initiative to see what those Icelanders were really doing and why they had come. He planned to take the initiative to find out.  

Although spending a quiet day on the snowy mountain was fine,  

he knew that while he enjoyed peace, many people were dying under fire and swords.  

Although he didn’t see it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.  

Those souls did not follow him to take a vacation, and he did not come to the Dragon’s Spine for a vacation.