The room was silent, and a lot of it was in doubt of the Rongo Mercenary Team's movements in the territory.
Fargo looked at him, before looking away to enter his own thoughts.
Something was obviously going on, and a sense of foreboding occupied him. He narrowed his eyes, his mind calculating what he could do at this time.
"Assign teams to go look for them tomorrow morning," he said. "Be fully armed and make sure each team has at least a few powerhouses. Form teams at least twice as large as you used to.
"Call in all the slaves, be sure to check for stowaways," It was regretful that such important jobs had to be halted, but something was obviously going on and he wasn't willing to risk hundreds of working slaves at this time.
The cronies nodded. "Yes, milord!"
They were about to adjourn when—all of a sudden—Belize stood up. It was so abrupt that his chair fell and it raised an alarm in everyone else's hearts.
At this, everyone—sans Fargo—abruptly stood up as well, taking out their weapons, and pointing them directed at him.
They were guarded and prepared for a hard fight. After all, this was a man at least twice their level!
They didn't know what loophole he would take advantage to attack them—if any—but they weren't taking any chances!
However, instead of a fight, Belize was pale as he stared into blank air—or rather, his panel.
Belize's mind was in a whirl. He was utterly confused at what he was seeing. It was the first time he had seen something like this—
Belize gaped at the long line of announcements in front of him.
[A Mercenary Team member, Impo, has died. 1.1 miles South.]
[A Mercenary Team member, Shaw, has died.1.1 miles South.]
[A Mercenary Team member, Uko, has died.1.1 miles South.]
[...]
There were at least a dozen of them.
"What's going on, Belize?" Fargo asked, his baritone voice shaking the aborigine out of his daze.
Belize's eyebrows furrowed, voice a little dry. "Milord… they're dead. A lot of the missing teammates died at the same time!"
This made the other men in the room look at him in shock, a few even dropping their weapons.
"What?" Uzon asked, followed by the twins.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Hey, explain more!"
Fargo didn't speak, but he looked at him with deeply furrowed eyebrows. Belize took a deep breath to keep his eloquence.
"I have mentioned before that members of a Mercenary Team would always receive notifications when and where a member dies."
He took a deep breath, fist clenching. "Almost all of the members who went missing—they all perished at the same time, and at the same location!"
A tense silence passed by the room, and they recognized it what it was: An Attack.
"This is a sign—a prelude," Fargo told them. His jaw was clenched as the thought that had been dawning on him finally concretized.
There was really an idiot that decided to attack them.
No, if they managed to damage them so much—then it was well planned.
However, none of them had the time to think of a counterattack when the mercenary froze again.
This time he couldn't help himself and hit the table, easily disintegrating it.
Uzon flinched a bit. This guy had been so submissive that he forgot he was strong!
Fargo seemed unfazed by the show of aggression, looking at his hired aborigine. "What happened this time?"
Belize didn't answer immediately and stared at his screen as a new line of deaths appeared in front of him.
[A Mercenary Team member, Inuk, has died. 0.9 miles Northeast]
[A Mercenary Team member, Penro, has died. 0.9 miles Northeast]
He gritted his teeth. "Those assigned in the mines has also perished."
Fargo's frown deepened while the others looked at each other, a bad feeling overcoming everyone's guts.
"What's going on?"
"The mines—"
"Shut up." Fargo's low voice resounded and everyone shut their mouths to let Fargo think in silence.
He immediately sent a firm instruction to all the slaves. [Attack all non-residents. Aim to kill. If you can't, kill yourselves.]
He frowned, unsure if it would have any effect at all. But they were too far from them and it was the only way to cause immediate trouble to whoever killed his men.
He began to formulate on what to do to smoke out the bastards, but he wasn't given a lot of time because the system resounded in his head.
[Altera Village (Lv3) has officially declared war on Fargo Village (Lv3). The War will begin at 13:59:59.]
Fargo's eyes widened a bit, things falling into place.
So it was them! Of course!
It was probably Garan himself hunting for his men!
Had they grown so strong after a short time?
"Milord?" Uzon and the others asked worriedly.
At the same time, the ground shook, followed by a couple of distant screams.
"What's going on?" the guards asked, gesturing to head out, not knowing this would be the beginning of a restless night.
The group went out to see that many guards were running towards the gate battlement, looking out. Fargo and the others climbed up the walls through the stairs they manually created.
From the distance, they saw a small mob banging on the outer wall, and it wouldn't take long for them to breach it. When it did, the outer circle would fall into chaos, and the inner wall wouldn't be unaffected, especially with its increased sizes.
Fargo narrowed his eyes at the monsters aiming to wreak havoc in his home.
Judging by the subsequent trouble, they would be kept up all night long. Including the time needed to prepare for the war proper, it was obvious what the enemy's strategy was!
He had to admit, he was a bit taken aback by the appearance of problem after problem.
However, Fargo was never one to back down from a challenge.
Fargo's sharp eyes turned and looked at his men.
"Wake everyone up, gather all the forces!" he said.
"PREPARE FOR WAR!"