Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

"A good start is the best harbinger of success. Now, let's split up and see how much wealth this batch of medicine can bring to our camp."

Peter made the decision with great enthusiasm.

Jerry and Romeo set off for the village to sell their goods domestically, while Peter and John sought out merchants for foreign trade.

"Regardless of sales, return to camp before dark. If trouble arises, it's better to lose all the medicine than not return safely."

Peter gave Jerry and Romeo some instructions. They were "one of us" whose character panels had already been activated, and their bodies were semi-digitalized. As long as they didn't die, Peter could revive them by giving them medicine, but they absolutely couldn't die outside.

"Yes, sir."

Jerry and Romeo bowed deeply in gratitude. They didn't say much, but their hearts were filled with emotion, and they secretly vowed to sell all the potions to raise funds for the camp and contribute to Lord Peter.

Jerry's loyalty +3

Romeo's loyalty +3

......

After watching the two leave, Peter and John carried their baskets to the crossroads, a place most frequented by merchants, and placed the bottles of medicine by the roadside with the labels facing outwards for easy reference by customers.

After waiting for two hours, I still didn't get a second order.

"Big Mouth, didn't you say this area has the heaviest traffic? I don't see how it is."

Peter paced back and forth, bored. This was so different from the bustling scene he had imagined.

"You can call me John. Troski Territory is a remote area, and it's already quite good if a few caravans pass through every day. Besides, there's another route in and out of Troski, the northwest corner of Zheleyov, so we're not the only one here."

John the Big Mouth remained calm, sitting by the roadside and listening intently. "I think I hear the sound of carriages, sir. A caravan must be approaching."

"Great, we can open for business again."

Peter immediately perked up, tugged at the corners of his mouth, revealing a standard eight-tooth smile, "Smile, smile, John, we must smile at our guests."

Just as the two were adjusting their appearance and posture, a caravan slowly approached.

This caravan was larger than the previous ones, consisting of four sturdy oak wagons covered with tarpaulins and pulled by eight tall packhorses. The eight foot guards were all dressed in chainmail, over which were dark blue robes and green hoods, with a silver scale embroidered on their chests—the emblem of the Troskii Merchant Guild. Each guard carried a sword and spear, and had crossbow caskets at their waists, clearly seasoned veterans of dangerous journeys.

The caravan leader, riding a black horse, had a lean face and eagle-like eyes; he was none other than Clement, the second-in-command of the Trossky Merchant Guild.

The carriage slowly came to a stop in front of Peter's stall. He looked down at the two men, then suddenly sneered, "Ha! Isn't this Big Mouth John? What, so destitute that you have to sell fake medicine and beg for food here? You can't even afford a suit of armor, yet you dare to block the road?"

"That's him!" A guard stepped forward, pointed at John, and laughed. "I remember him! This guy chased my caravan like dogs, and now he's the one looking like a stray dog!"

The guards burst into laughter, and some even deliberately kicked up dust with the tips of their swords at the two men.

Peter's businesslike smile gradually faded.

Clement, perched on horseback, looked down at Peter and John arrogantly and said, "Our Troskii Merchant Guild has not authorized you to set up a stall here. Is this a challenge to our authority? Take it all away!"

"I advise you not to do that."

Peter said coldly, "We just want to sell some potions to passing merchants; everyone makes a profit. I hope you won't disrupt this fair arrangement."

"You dare talk about 'fairness'?"

Clement sneered, unfastened his money pouch from his waist, and deliberately scattered a few copper coins on the ground: "Only our Troskie Merchant Guild has the right to define fairness. I'll buy all the potions in front of you now!"

"Hahaha, I knew it! Why waste words with them? Not only will they confiscate our goods, but they'll also arrest us and take us to the sheriff for the reward."

"John the Big Mouth, as long as we catch you, you great thief, I, Little Jack, will become the star of every tavern."

"Hang them both from the oak tree at the village entrance and feed them to the crows!"

Eight guards swaggered over, pointing and laughing at Peter and John, as if they had them cornered.

John's face was ashen, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked, but he dared not make a move. He had no weapon, no armor, and no chance against eight fully armed guards.

Peter smiled and said softly, "Some people won't learn the rules unless you beat them until they feel the pain."

"What the hell did you say?"

The guard drew his sword and pointed it at Peter, cursing him.

"You don't have to buy my products, but you shouldn't break the rules or laugh at my brothers."

"One-click outfit change!"

Peter has several pre-saved outfits in his character panel. He wears plain clothes when doing business, but of course he'll need to wear a full outfit when fighting.

"What the hell is this? Is it magic? Or am I seeing things?" The caravan guards, who had been forming a circle, were so frightened that they took several steps back.

"Take care of yourself."

Peter instantly donned heavy armor and tossed John a broadsword and a shield, instructing, "Take him alive; our camp needs manpower."

John the Big Mouth took the weapons and equipment, his courage rising, and shouted, "Back in the day, I didn't even need to warm up to kill these small fry."

"Shut up!" the eight guards roared. "Don't you two respect us at all?"

The guards, initially intimidated by Peter's one-click costume change "effect," rallied their numbers and roared angrily again. They didn't care about any tricks; as long as they could defeat him, they'd be "demon-slaying heroes" and could boast about it in the tavern for ages.

Clement, the caravan manager, was caught off guard by the sudden turn of events and nearly fell off his horse in fright. After riding a short distance, he looked back and saw that a fight had broken out on the scene.

Eight guards, three with shields in front, four with spears behind, and the captain in the center giving orders.

Instead of retreating, Peter advanced, swinging his greatsword in a wide arc and charging forward!

Just as a shieldbearer in the front row raised his shield to parry, Peter's greatsword slashed upwards at the edge of the shield, sending it flying. The shieldbearer's hand was split open, and he staggered backward. Peter then swept his sword across, striking the man squarely in the ribs. The armor caved in, and the man flew out like a straw.

The second shield-bearer thrust his sword forward, but Peter dodged to the side. The greatsword spun like a top and struck the back of Peter's neck, causing him to fall to his knees on the spot.

Before the third shield bearer could react, Peter leaped forward, slammed his greatsword into the ground for leverage, and delivered a flying knee strike to the face, deforming the helmet, breaking the nose, and knocking the soldier unconscious on the spot.

Before the four spearmen could even take advantage of their distance, they were forced into close combat.

"Two for you, two for me."

Peter and John exchanged a glance, divided their tasks, and each went to meet their respective enemies. Before long, the four spearmen fell to their knees, wailing in pain.

"Go! Go now!"

The caravan manager, Clément, was almost in tears. "You eight bastards always boasted so much, how come you're finished so quickly?"

He wouldn't normally dare to mess with a bandit like Big Mouth John, but today he saw that the other guy was "down on his luck" and wanted to bully him to vent his anger. How did things turn out like this?

Can anyone tell me if I'm drunk and dreaming?!

"I'm hungry!"

The captain of the guard roared and finally made his move. He was experienced and did not fight head-on, but instead attacked from the side, aiming his hammer at Peter's weak point in the waist and ribs.

Peter had anticipated this. He feinted with his greatsword to lure Peter into making an attack, then suddenly took a half step back, letting the tip of the sword graz his armor.

Immediately afterwards, he drew a dagger from his waist with his left hand and stabbed it into the gap in the captain's chainmail under his arm!

"Ugh—!" the captain screamed as the hammer hit the ground.

Peter swept a heavy ball from the tail of his greatsword across Peter's temple, denting his helmet and sending him sprawling like a rotten log.

At this point, all eight guards had fallen to the ground, five were unconscious, and three were injured and kneeling, but no one had died—this was what Peter wanted: to intimidate, not to kill.

"Tie him up!"

He ordered John to tie the eight men's hands behind their backs with thick hemp rope, stringing them together. He then rushed toward Clement, the caravan manager, and yanked him off his horse.

Clément was already terrified and at a loss. Running away was out of the question; the four large trucks carrying the goods couldn't move fast, and if he lost the goods, the big boss would kill him. But if he didn't run away, he would have to face the wrath of the two "demons."

"I understand the rules, I'm willing to pay, I'm willing to pay for my passage, please don't kill me."

At this point, Clement stopped talking about the rules of the Troschi Merchant Guild and stopped talking about dragging them back to the village to hang them. He just wanted to pay up as soon as possible to avoid disaster, and presented the money bag with both hands.

Peter snatched the money bag, weighed it in his hand, threw it on the ground, and cursed, "Who are you insulting with this little bit of money? You just insulted and mocked my dearest friends and family, my brothers!"

"Then, what should we do?"

"There was a caravan that voluntarily offered one-third of their payment for goods, and I gave them medicine of equal value, plus a buy-one-get-one-free deal. Why? Because they knew the rules and had a sense of respect. They weren't buying medicine; they were buying our friendship."

And you, not only refusing to buy the medicine, also attempted to break the rules of fair trade. Then you will have to pay a heavy price and remember this lesson.

How many do you want?

"I should have paid the money according to the rules," Clément asked painfully. "If only I had, I could have gotten a batch of potions."

"Half of the caravan. Two large wagons, four packhorses, and your riding horse."

The eight chainmail guards were not part of the caravan; rather, they were Peter's prisoners, tied together and chained to the back of the wagon.

"I'm willing to give, I'm willing to give."

Clement's heart was bleeding, a painful sacrifice he made. Then, remembering the merchant guild would be passing through this area again, he couldn't resist asking, "Do we have to buy medicine every time we pass through?"

"No need for that. We, John the Big Mouth, are benevolent. From today onward, tolls will be reduced to one-tenth. Those who wish to buy medicine will gain our friendship—buy one, get one free; those who dare to resist will have half their goods confiscated and all their guards enslaved. These are our new rules, understand?"

Peter explained.

"Yes, I understand."

Clement was utterly filled with regret. If only he'd known this would happen, why had he provoked them in the first place! He feared he'd lose his job when he returned. But it was for the best; the Chamber of Commerce would surely retaliate, but these two alone were already so formidable. Big Mouth John's gang, on the other hand, had eight ruthless bandits!

I'm outta here, I'm outta here. I'd better retire as soon as possible, and absolutely cannot participate in any future actions.