Pioneer Lord: I Have Conquering System

Sam immediately started screaming in terror, "I'm the leader of High Cliff Castle's Casting Team! I work for Marquis Levi!"

"He's just a Baron who got rich by selling his body," a scrawny Attendant beside the Knight sneered, repeating a common rumor.

Had the Lord been present, he couldn't have helped but laugh.

Unfortunately, no one in the brothel laughed. In fact, many people frowned. Some hot-tempered young Mercenaries even reached for their weapons, only to be held back by their older comrades, who shook their heads.

By now, the reputation of the Lord of High Cliff Castle was known to everyone in Debei. Moreover, he had recently crushed the arrogance of those Sith Lords at the city gates, much to the satisfaction of most of Gonda City's populace.

Although there were a few detractors so stupid one might think their brains had been eaten by Goblins, this legendary figure had far more admirers, especially among Mercenaries and Knights.

After all, this Lion Hunter Knight had started his career as a Mercenary before becoming a Knight.

Margery was startled but quickly shook her head. 'I've heard the people of High Cliff Castle are all incredibly proud,' she thought. 'This old man has no backbone at all. He's most likely just another con artist using High Cliff Castle's name to swindle people.'

Ever since the High Cliff Castle contingent arrived in Gonda, such impostors had become increasingly rampant. 'It's probably for the best to teach him a lesson.'

'Besides, even if he is the real deal, I'm not the one who offended him. This has nothing to do with me.'

Soon, Sam was tied by his ankles with a hemp rope and hung upside down from a Roman-style column on the street in front of the Red Velvet, where he was continuously flogged with a cowhide whip.

His shrill screams attracted a crowd of onlookers and also drew the attention of a group of burly men from the High Cliff Castle contingent who were out strolling.

It was as if Sam had seen his saviors. With a sob in his voice, he let out a tragic, heart-rending accusation.

"Mier! Zat! These bastards are bullying us, saying we're just a bunch of country folk from High Cliff Castle!"

"Son of a bitch! They dare bully someone from our High Cliff Castle contingent?" Seeing Sam strung up and being beaten, Zat let out a cold laugh, hung the wreath he was holding around his neck, rolled up his sleeves, and charged.

"You three blind bastards!"

With a single punch and two kicks, he sent the Knight and the other two Attendants sprawling to the ground.

The other Barbarians from the High Cliff Castle contingent swarmed over and surrounded the area.

"Sam, I'll get you down right now." Mier felt a surge of anger as he looked at the Elder Shaman, whose body was covered in gruesome welts.

The Elder Shaman may have been timid, and he may have often thought about fleeing High Cliff Castle to strike out on his own, but that was only in the beginning.

Now, he had long since committed himself wholeheartedly to High Cliff Castle. Seeing one of their own being abused like this, even the good-tempered Mier was furious.

"Don't!" To Mier's surprise, Sam frantically shook his head, refusing the offer.

Just as Mier was starting to wonder if Sam had some kind of strange fetish, the man blubbered through tears and snot, "I want the Lord to get a good look at how these bastards have bullied High Cliff Castle!"

"Genius!" Mier instantly gave him a thumbs-up in admiration.

'If my brother-in-law arrived and saw Sam like this, he'd probably explode with rage,' Mier thought. 'With his obsession with reputation and his fiercely protective nature, he would absolutely use this as a pretext to extort... no, I mean, demand a generous compensation for medical expenses.'

Some other soldiers responsible for keeping the peace had been watching from the sidelines. When they saw their leader get taken down in an instant, they had no choice but to bite the bullet. Despite their fear of the massive, burly Beastmen, they drew their clubs and charged.

A sound thrashing now was nothing compared to the punishment they would face from their superiors later for inaction.

Besides, they had the advantage in numbers.

All of Gonda was their turf!

"Margery, get your men out here and help us deal with these rioting Beastmen!" someone howled amidst the chaos.

Margery paid no heed, simply shutting her doors to prevent the brutes from rushing into the Red Velvet. This brawl had nothing to do with her from the beginning; there was absolutely no reason to get involved.

A massive brawl erupted.

Unfortunately, reality was far crueler than imagined. Even though they outnumbered the Beastman Barbarians by more than ten to one, the ones being mowed down were all Gonda's Guards. One after another, they fell to the ground, howling in pain, unlikely to get out of bed for at least half a month.

Just then, the crowd of onlookers parted to form a path, and over a hundred fully armed Knights marched out in neat formation.

The middle-aged noble in the lead was initially furious, but the moment he saw the towering Beastmen, standing as tall and straight as spring onions, his expression instantly soured.

"Oh, not you lot again," he sighed. "How did you end up fighting this time?"

To be honest, he really didn't want to run into this bunch from High Cliff Castle, but he had no choice. He was, after all, the Sheriff in charge of Gonda's security.

The expected escalation of the conflict didn't occur. He waved for his Knights to stand down. After all, if these hardasses could even defeat the Sith Lords and their Iron Men, what chance did they have?

Especially since their Lord was the most fearsome character of all.

Wringing his hands, he approached and greeted them. "Is this brother one of yours? How did he end up beaten this badly?"

The Barbarians all just sneered, crossing their arms to block his way to Sam, and completely ignored him.

"Why don't we get him down first? I'll send for Gonda's best Physician to treat him," the middle-aged noble said, undeterred.

At this point, it no longer mattered who was right or wrong. His first priority was to get the old man, who was the clear victim here, untied.

He had to prevent the Lion Hunter Knight from arriving and using the man's pathetic state as an excuse to fly into a rage.

But no matter how he pleaded, the Barbarians were dead set and remained completely unmoved.

Seeing that the soft approach wasn't working, he decided to get tough. Pointing at the bleeding Sam, he cried out in a pained, heartbroken voice, "Heroes! Can't you see how badly he's injured? If he doesn't get Treatment soon, it'll be too late!"

"Actually, I think I can hold on a little longer," Sam said, mustering his strength, despite looking so weak he might expire at any second.

"You can save your breath," Mier said slowly, glancing at him. "When our Lord arrives, everything will be resolved appropriately."

The middle-aged noble opened his mouth to curse, so angry he could spit. 'When the time comes, it won't just be the matter that gets resolved, I'll be 'resolved' too!'

But in the split second before the words left his mouth, he realized that confronting these Barbarians would only lead to a disastrous end, and he forced himself to swallow his curse.

"Which bastards bullied my people from High Cliff Castle?!"

The deafening roar echoed from a distance long before the man himself appeared.

The Lord, who had been affecting an air of thunderous fury as he rushed over with the might of a tiger, took one look at the scene and his imposing aura immediately deflated by a third.

The situation on the ground was simple and clear—a whole swath of Gonda's Guards, at least a hundred of them, had been knocked down and were now rolling on the ground, groaning in pain.

On the High Cliff Castle side, however, dozens of burly men stood with their arms crossed, leisurely pointing and laughing. Not a single one of them was down. It couldn't be more obvious that they were the culprits.

It is human nature to sympathize with the weak, so it was hardly a stretch to peg them as the perpetrators of this tragedy.

"My Lord!"

Seeing the Lord was like seeing the sun for Sam, and he cried out with a voice full of surprising vigor.

"If it isn't my esteemed Grand Shaman Sam?" The Lord looked up at Sam, his surprise quickly turning into confidence. He strode forward menacingly. "Who on earth beat you into this state?! What in the hell is going on here?"

"My Lord, these Gonda Guards look down on us from High Cliff Castle! They called you a Baron who prostituted himself, and then they beat me!"

Sam immediately launched into a bitter, wailing complaint, writhing so excitedly in mid-air that he looked just like a caterpillar—a particularly shriveled one, at that.

"Son of a bitch!" the Lord roared, kicking the column, which was thick enough for a man to wrap his arms around. As if it were made of tofu, the sturdy, Roman-style column instantly shattered, its pieces flying in all directions.

Everyone present couldn't help but shudder. If that kick had landed on one of them, would they have ever gotten up again?

With the column destroyed, Sam plummeted downward, only to be caught by several of the Barbarians.

"Who beat my man? Who called me a whore of a Baron? Drag that son of a bitch over here so I can chop him to pieces!"