Chapter 294: Make the Hoover Family Glorious Again
Hode and Cooper left Adrian City and returned to York City.
Marl had given them a letter, instructing them to find a tavern in York City called Half Horseshoe and deliver the letter to the tavern’s keeper. Afterward, someone with the authority to decide would discuss the matter with them.
However, just five miles outside Adrian City, Cooper grabbed Hode’s arm and said, “No, you can’t do this. He wants to use your Hoover Family bloodline. He is planning to invade the Northern Lands.”
Cooper’s eyes trembled.
The Northern Lands were unafraid of challenges. Once conquered by force, they would instead sing praises for the victor, because this was the Northern Lands, a land that glorified bravery.
Moreover, no matter where one came from, upon entering the Northern Lands, they would become a part of it. Those who could not become Northern men, those who could not adapt, would be buried by the earth.
But Cooper clearly knew that if Marl’s plan became reality in the Northern Lands, then as long as he wished, a slave could be made into a hero overnight.
“That will overturn the traditions of the Northern Lands,” Cooper said firmly.
Hode glanced at Cooper and said, “But do we have a choice?”
Cooper froze.
Hode continued, “This is Greenwood. The power of three principalities has been gathered here. Even in its current broken state, its strength is still formidable. When they recover from their unified war, will they cross the surging Demis River to attack the mighty Altlinsmann Empire? Or will they send knights into the mountainous and jungle-filled Principality of Valorian? Or will they head north, into the Northern Kingdom embroiled in a war against the Fiends? Don’t forget how fertile Greenwood is—so fertile that even now, the people of the Northern Kingdom trade with Greenwood’s merchants.”
“Yes, trade is mutually beneficial, but those merchants have their loyalties. Compared to the strength-focused Northern Lands, they naturally prefer that the Northern Lands accept the teachings of the Holy Scriptures. So, they gift the Northerners tokens of identity. On our travels, you should have seen how those things are admired by some in the Northern Lands, even though to Northerners they are useless trinkets that cannot be wielded in battle.”
“But in the traditions of the Northern Lands, the strong enjoy everything. And the weak? They long for order.”
“Beneath the great nobles are the lesser nobles, beneath them the gentry, and beneath the gentry, the warriors. That is the Northern Lands, where even commoners carry the blood of battle.”
“The moment the first gentry saw a Greenwood merchant and chose to speak instead of killing him on sight, the invasion had already begun.”
Hode looked at Cooper, his calm gaze stirring fear in Cooper’s heart.
Hode went on, “I was once part of the Church, so I understand even more. In their eyes, it is never about a single person, a single land, or a single nation. The Scriptures you mock are not merely a tool for maintaining power—they are their unwavering Faith.”
“Yes, the Northern Kingdom is strong. Even the legendary Lords of Annihilation were regarded by those nobles as mere prey. But are the Fiendish armies of the Lords of Annihilation truly as weak as they imagine?”
“And Cooper, you saw it with your own eyes. Greenwood is not weak either. Here, even a prostitute would not fear our threats. Instead, she would call upon the city guards to defend her rights—for just five York silver coins, she would not fear our revenge, even though we could easily kill her. Is that not courage? And who gave her that courage?”
“Cooper, I do not believe that if even a prostitute can be so courageous in Greenwood, the proud nobles of the Northern Lands will be able to resist when the true invasion comes.”
“And besides, whether they resist or not has nothing to do with us. I was born in the Northern Lands, but I grew up in Greenwood. I feel no pride for the North. I only wish for the Hoover Family to endure, for the Hoover bloodline to continue. And right now, I believe Marl’s way is more reliable than seeking the help of nobles.”
Hode looked at Cooper and said, “If you wish to uphold the traditions of the Northern Lands, I won’t blame you. You were once a warrior of the North and proud of it. But when we meet again in the North, if you stand against me, I will kill you without hesitation.”
“And you too carry the Hoover name. You once helped me. So I hope you will continue to help me—until we make the Hoover Family glorious again.”
With that, Hode patted Cooper’s shoulder and walked on.
Cooper stood still. At that moment when Hode’s hand touched his shoulder, he seemed to glimpse Beo once more.
That was when the Hoover Territory had just been struck by the power of the Lord of Dominion, and the family’s warriors scattered. They spoke of seeking aid from other nobles, but how could Cooper not know them?
Revering the strong was the Northern tradition—but who would not wish to become strong themselves?
The blood of battle made Northerners powerful, but it also filled them with ambition to become the strong. Like their first trial, where they had to slay a Snowfield Wolf. When united under a leader, they were loyal. But once their leader fell and they became lone wolves, they sought to make themselves leaders.
They would never think of re-swearing loyalty to the Hoover Family. They would rather become wanderers or serve under another powerful noble.
The former gave them the chance to become strong themselves. The latter allowed them to continue revering strength.
So Beo once told him, “If you want to be like them, I won’t blame you, for that is the Northern tradition. But you too carry the Hoover name, so I hope you will always believe in the strength of the Hoovers.”
Back then, he chose to follow. And now...
Cooper caught up with Hode’s steps.
…
The Half Horseshoe Tavern was not in a lively district, but in the southeastern corner of York City, known as the slums.
Yet when Hode and Cooper arrived, they found the environment here cleaner than even the Northern Royal Capital.
The reason Marl had sent them here was naturally because the tavern’s owner bore the surname Rich.
So the next day at noon, the esteemed Greenwood Viscount and Senator of the Lundex Kingdom, Puniel Rich, met them in that quiet tavern.
There was no one else in the tavern, only the three of them and the bartender pouring drinks.
Puniel looked Hode up and down and said, “I’ve heard of you—the Church’s former knight. Of course, former. But you carry noble blood, a descendant of a marquis’s family. So I will not think you foolish, even if losing knighthood to the Church was indeed foolish.”
He placed Marl’s letter on the table. “And because I believe you are not a fool, you should already know what we want to do.”
“Do not disappoint me by proving otherwise,” Puniel added.
Hode froze. He had not expected Marl’s contact to be so direct.
But seeing Puniel’s eyes, he hesitated and abandoned his prepared empty words. At last, he said, “I only wish to preserve the glory of the Hoover Family. I care nothing for anything else.”
Puniel laughed. “Good. Then you are not a fool. I like working with clever men.”
He straightened, leaning forward slightly. “Allow me to introduce myself—Viscount Puniel Rich of Rich Territory, now serving as Senator under His Majesty the King, managing certain matters of the kingdom. And the Mercenary Tavern falls under my oversight.”
“Of course, that is no secret.”
Hode nodded. “I understand. So, what must I do?”
Puniel’s smile grew more sincere. “Excellent. I think we will both get what we want.”
He pulled out a map—the map of the entire Northern Lands—marked with the positions of nobles.
Puniel said, “Although nobles serve the king, they are not vassals. In the North, high nobles are even more independent, especially now that the Northern King’s power wanes.”
“The five marquises and two earls—each of their territories is nearly a kingdom of its own, with their own laws. And surrounding them, the lesser nobles must also follow their rules.”
“And because of Northern tradition—you both should know this—the wandering bandits are even more numerous.”
“But in barren Northern Lands, bandits barely find food. Before the Fishmen invasion, many Northerners came south to Greenwood to ply that trade.”
Puniel’s words carried undisguised mockery of the North’s poverty. Hode and Cooper did not mind—it was simply truth.
Seeing no reaction, Puniel was even more satisfied. He continued, “These men are all potential mercenaries. After all, mercenary life is so free, and they can live on their bravery.”
“If they seek protection, they can join larger mercenary companies. If they wish to be the protectors, they can form their own. They will have supply bases, warm lodgings, sharp weapons, and women when they need release.”
“Of course, before this, they must be permitted to walk openly in some noble’s lands as mercenaries.”
“But those nobles are too proud. They won’t even grant my envoys an audience. Perhaps they think a mere mercenary is unworthy of meeting their greatness.”
Hode asked, “So, you want me to persuade them to permit mercenaries?”
Puniel shook his head, raising a finger. “No, no, no—not them. Just one. Convincing one noble will be enough.”
He stood, sliding the map toward Hode. “The five marquises—oh, apologies, it should be four now—and the two earls. Any of them would do. But I recommend persuading Earl Leonard Cortes.”
He pointed to a territory backed by the Northwind Mountains. “This Earl’s land deals most closely with our merchants. Mostly the gentry. When it comes to lords, our poor merchants must pay dearly in luxury goods.”
“But because of this, we have forged some friendship with the lords. Though they still look down on merchants, when the Earl considers granting mercenary licenses, they are willing to speak kindly for us.”
“After all, we are helping the Earl reduce the bandits in his land. And when he wages war, these mercenaries will fight for him. Even warriors roaming elsewhere will respect this benevolent Earl and become his mercenaries, fighting under his banner.”