Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

5 month 22 day.

Under Eric's protection, Istvan, accompanied by twenty mercenaries disguised as "civilians" carefully selected by the young master of Borgo, arrived at the outskirts of Devil's Canyon in three large wagons.

"Istvan, my friend."

Peter led a group of people out to greet him personally. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Only your face can make me trust and feel at ease."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, my friend Peter."

Istvan greeted him just as warmly, "I appreciate your trust, but how come you doubted Captain J. Kaka came in person yesterday? He even complained to me after he got back that he was very sad."

"Hahaha"

Peter laughed. This viper never tells a word of truth, but fortunately, he himself doesn't tell many truths either.

"Jeska? Just a reckless mercenary. I prefer to ally with wise men rather than a brute like Jeska who only knows how to wield a sword. My camp doesn't lack swordsmen, but strategists who can offer me advice. That's why he can't even get into the mountain pass, but I'm here to welcome you, my friend."

The push-pull tactic works like this: the more you crave an alliance and the more you want to gain benefits, the more aloof and calculating the other party becomes. Even though you know you're losing out, they're still willing to continue giving because of sunk costs.

"Hahaha"

Istvan laughed heartily as well. Peter's words about being a "wise man" and a "strategist" truly resonated with him. A brute always says that brute force is better than hard work, but a wise man says that strategy can seize everything. "Peter, my friend," he said, "I have brought another shipment of supplies for your cause. I hope you will be satisfied."

Perhaps they don't care who they ally with, only whether they achieve their own goals.

"Of course I'm satisfied. The supplies are secondary; what's truly important is you and your brilliant mind. Please come with me, my friend, let's go into the mountains together."

Peter warmly took István's hand.

Eric, standing behind Istvan, instinctively stepped forward, his hand already gripping the hilt of his sword. Conrad, the lone wolf, and Oda, the masked man, both behind Peter, also stepped forward, blocking Eric's path.

Seeing the tense situation, Istvan's face darkened, and he reprimanded Eric, "Don't be rude, step back!" Then he turned to Peter and said, "I apologize, my friend, this is my godson Eric. He may have been too nervous just now."

"Oh, so he's your adopted son? No wonder his eyes were full of love when he looked at you. We're all friends. Let's all go into the mountains together!"

Peter and his son recalled some rumors about the father and son in the game's background, felt a chill, stopped holding hands, made a gesture of invitation, and led the way.

The supplies were carried in by people like ants carrying grains of rice, so they didn't have to worry about it.

Istvan gave Peter a meaningful smile.

He could almost see himself lurking beside Peter, knowing all his weaknesses, and finally delivering a fatal blow at the crucial moment, winning the favor of Count Borgo and returning to King Gigi's side to enjoy a wonderful future.

The venomous snake flicked its tongue, confident that victory was assured.

But after navigating through the labyrinthine canyon, continue west for another two kilometers to reach the camp.

The sight before him caused Istvan's pupils to dilate in shock.

The scene was completely different from the hidden, tense, and dilapidated atmosphere I had witnessed on my last visit. The dilapidated refugee camp, which was bustling with activity just four days ago, had undergone a dramatic transformation.

The original simple barricades and fences were reinforced and heightened, and the wooden fences were upgraded to three-meter-high wooden walls filled with rammed earth, large enough for people to stand on! Several brightly colored griffin flags were even planted on top.

In the central square, more than sixty militiamen were drilling in formation, the sound of shields clashing in perfect unison; carpenters were busily building a new tower; women were distributing bread and broth with cheerful laughter; and children were waving homemade red flags and shouting, "Long live the Red Griffin!"

The black bread was gone! In its place came golden, crispy barley breads, their aroma filling the air, taken from the roaring stove in the communal kitchen!

The entire camp was bustling with activity and activity, a far cry from the thieves' den they had imagined—a place teeming with people struggling to survive and living in constant fear!

"This...this is impossible!" Istvan murmured. "It's completely different from what I've seen before."

Peter laughed heartily: "Oh, you mean that? That was a test!"

"test?"

"That's right!" Peter said seriously. "I wanted to see if you truly wanted an alliance. If you came despite our poverty, it shows you're loyal; if you brought supplies, it shows you have strength. Now you've passed both tests, so—welcome to the party!"

Istvan: "..."

Just then, an old man approached. Istvan recognized him; it was the old monk who had hosted him last time, I think his name was... Martin?

Old Martin approached with an almost benevolent smile, saying warmly, "Mr. Toth! We've been waiting for you! Lord Peter talks about you every day! He says you're the first 'true friend' he's made on this land!"

Istvan was a little taken aback by the sudden, enthusiastic welcome, and could only smile and say, "Your Excellency Peter, you are too kind. I have brought some supplies this time as a token of my sincerity..."

"No problem, no problem! We're all on the same side!" Old Martin pulled him inside, nodding to Eric as well. "This brave man is coming along too, to our luncheon! This is a privilege only friends receive."

Peter, however, cautioned, "Istvan, my friend. When Captain Jessica came last time, I was quite unfriendly. Your return shows me your genuine sincerity, which is why I'm willing to show you the true situation of the camp. While I certainly prefer dealing with intelligent people like you, I don't want to offend that brute. Could you please send someone back to convey my apologies?"

"Of course you can. Actually, Captain Jessica doesn't mind what happened last time. He even told me to let these deliverymen stay and help you dig and carry timber. They're not good at fighting, but they're excellent at hard labor."

István took the opportunity to request to stay.

"The more people who can do the work, the better. How could I not want to? My friend, you have really helped me a lot. It's like delivering a cart of firewood on a snowy day or a pot of clear spring water in the desert."

Peter warmly invited him to sit down.

Soon, the lunch gathering began, and Istvan and his entourage felt as if they had fallen into an absurd yet enthusiastic vortex.

Although the cabin was simple, it was fully equipped with tables and chairs, and there was a hearth in the middle. The so-called "good food" was just browned bread with salted meat; the so-called "good wine" was a kind of pungent, suspiciously colored homemade brew. Several leaders who arrived later, a one-eyed, fierce tomcat, and a calm and taciturn Conrad, kept toasting Eric next to Istvan, spouting the same old phrases like "true friend," "honest man," and "we'll share the good times and the bad."

Istvan tried several times to steer the conversation toward the camp's defenses, personnel composition, and Peter's future plans, but Peter responded with even more enthusiastic drinks and more extravagant praise, such as...

"Oh, Mr. István, you have such great foresight!"

"That really resonates with me! We're kindred spirits!"

And even more far-fetched "blueprints for the future" were rejected.

...........

After lunch, Istvan sent someone down the mountain to report back on the situation on his side.

After that person left, the atmosphere at the scene began to change.

Istvan was so drunk he was dizzy and disoriented. His scheming and smugness had long since been turned to mush by this nonsensical tirade. In his dazed state, he saw Carter the tomcat and Conrad flanking Eric on either side, while Martin held Istvan's arm, rendering him unable to move.

Although Eric was as strong as a bear, he was still completely suppressed by two opponents of the same level.

The masked Oda went up and took away the weapons of the two men.

Why is that?

"Weapons are sharp; it's not good if they hurt people."

John the Big Mouth came up again and started tearing off their armor.

"Why is that?"

"I'll take you to bed in a bit; the armor is in the way and uncomfortable."

Redbeard Andrei led his men over and bound them all with ropes.

"What are you doing now?"

"Our cells are small, so we're all bundled up so we can squeeze in."

And so, apart from the one who came out to deliver the message, Istvan, Eric, and nineteen "laborers" were all stuffed into the newly built prison.

"Peter, my friend..."

No, we are not.

Now that the snake is caught in the net, there's no point in playing games anymore. The message has been conveyed sufficiently. The snake is no longer of any use.

Istvan was covered in cold sweat, and his drunkenness had mostly subsided. Lying on the hard ground, listening to the faint sounds of patrolling footsteps and laughter outside, Istvan stared at the dimly lit roof, feeling for the first time a deep doubt about his mission and... a kind of anger at being fooled.

He, István Toth, a self-proclaimed cunning and treacherous viper, with carefully prepared fangs and disguise, was smugly planning to find an opening and kill his prey.

It turned out that his prey had not only seen through his tricks long ago, but had also set up a stage, lit the lights, and invited him to perform a farce called "True Friends"! And he actually played along like a clown for most of the day!

"Damn redhead Peter, how dare you treat me like this! I demand to be treated with the honors of a nobleman!"

Having been fooled in his proudest intellectual capacity, Istvan was completely devastated.