In a dimly lit tavern in one of the towns, mercenaries gathered, drinking and chatting loudly.

“Did you see that bastard begging for his life?”

“Some ex-bandits they turned out to be. Worthless.”

“Yeah, calling them ex-bandits is generous. The real tough ones are all dead, and the capable ones got scooped up by the lord.”

“There were still a few with some fight left in them, but once you bash their heads in, they behave real quick. Hahaha!”

Their laughter was crude, filled with mockery and disdain.

The subject of their ridicule was none other than the members of Julien’s Mercenary Corps, particularly the former bandits whom Ghislain had recruited. These ex-bandits, tasked with handling various minor requests under Ghislain’s command, had recently suffered several humiliating defeats.