Chapter 147: The Envoy of Carolina

Among the motley crew of outsiders, Ron finally managed to find Buni, who was struggling to cope with them all.

"They came in several groups," the Priest of Taimola said, looking rather drained. "Some are from Rose City and claim to be acquaintances of yours; the others are Adventurers."

"As for the most finely dressed ones, they’re a delegation of envoys from the Carolina City-States."

"Carolina?" Ron was taken aback. He knew they wouldn’t be able to resist Klade’s legions so easily, but he hadn’t expected them to fold this quickly.

But... judging by their expressions and behavior, Ron felt they didn’t seem to be here to sue for peace.

"Mr. Ron, you’re finally back," a few young people said, led by Seymour to stand before Ron. The Half-Elf Maiden in the lead had long, smooth, straight black hair. "I wonder if you still remember us?"

"Constance," Aive said with a frown. "Why are you here?"

She actually wanted to ask, ’Doesn’t your adoptive father want you anymore?’ But with so many strangers around, she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

"After seeing you fight, I felt I should get out and see the world," Constance said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "My father agreed. He thinks it’s time for me to get some exposure to the outside world so I can take over his business in the future."

"And me, and me!" a young man behind her waved eagerly at Ron. "I’m Carlos, remember? When I heard Miss Constance was coming to Delusional Land, I convinced my father to let me come too!"

"Carlos? What about your engagement?"

"Her family didn’t approve," Carlos shrugged nonchalantly. "But that doesn’t matter. I care more about adventuring!"

"Let me join you! I’m strong and a good fighter!"

As he spoke, Carlos struck a convincing-looking boxer’s stance and threw a few punches. His amateurish skills were more than enough for a street brawl, but they were woefully inadequate for the many dangers of Delusional Land.

Behind them were other young people, also from Rose City. Most of them had originally been followers of Carlos and his brother, and at Carlos’s encouragement, they had all followed him here.

"Most of them are the children of merchants or artisans. They may not be very skilled yet, but they’re not completely useless. They won’t be a burden to you," Constance said.

"We’re short-handed right now, so anyone who’s here to help is welcome," Ron said with a smile. "Aive, could you please get them settled in? As for the ones from Carolina? Where are they?"

"See? Aren’t they the ones in front of that row of graves?" Silvia said, tilting her chin.

Sure enough, a group of people were gathered in mourning before the graves of the assassins who had previously come to kill Ron and the others. They were murmuring amongst themselves, their gazes constantly flicking over toward Ron.

From the looks on their faces, Ron guessed they weren’t saying anything pleasant.

"You’re Ron?!" A thin, middle-aged man strode over aggressively, a white flower pinned to his chest. "I’ve come on behalf of the Carolina City-States, and I demand an explanation!"

"An explanation? What explanation?" Ron looked at him. "I haven’t even questioned you yet. What’s the meaning of that white flower? Are you mourning the criminals on my land?"

"Criminals on your land?!" The middle-aged man’s voice jumped an octave. "These men were law-abiding citizens of the Carolina City-States! They disappeared without a trace after passing through your territory. Today, we came here on official business only to find their graves."

"They were brutally murdered here by you! You’re the murderer, the bandit!"

At these words, the surrounding people all turned to look—not at Ron, but at the Carolinians.

Weren’t the words on the graves perfectly clear: "Overconfident, bungling murderers from Carolina!" Was there really anything to question?

"Should we dig them up and look for evidence?" Ron looked toward Victoria. "Do you have any Magic prepared for today? Go dig one up and use Communication with the Dead. Ask them what they were really here for."

In a world like this, it was very difficult to frame someone when both witnesses and physical evidence existed. Even the living couldn’t lie that easily, let alone the dead.

"This... Perhaps we shouldn’t disturb the dead?"

Sure enough, when the middle-aged man saw that the Priest here was actually preparing to dig up the graves and make the dead speak, he immediately backed down. ’Damn Ming Datiss and his outdated intelligence,’ he inwardly cursed, while forcing himself to find another topic to deflect the conversation.

He could take a gamble—betting that all traces of the Death Squad had rotted away, that they didn’t even have mouths left to speak with. But if he lost that bet, he would have no room to maneuver, and the negotiation strategy they had decided on beforehand would be completely impossible to execute.

"Let’s put that aside for now," the middle-aged man said, changing the subject. "Even if that were true, it was their own personal affair and has nothing to do with the Carolina City-States! But for you to order an army to harass our trade routes and slaughter civilians... isn’t that going a bit too far?"

"Order an army? What are you talking about?" Ron blinked, flatly denying it. "You’ve seen for yourself. All we have right now is a single trading post and a few villages. How could we possibly afford to maintain an army? There’s a limit to your baseless accusations, you know."

"I have an army? Who’s going to support them and pay their wages? You? Carolina?"

A roar of laughter erupted in front of the trading post. Before Ron and his group had returned, these outsiders had already toured the surrounding area. A place like this could support an army?

Rose City itself only maintained a standing army of a few hundred, with about the same number of conscripts. For past wars, they had mostly relied on hiring Mercenaries. How could a place like Ron’s possibly support an army?

"That earth goblin, Klade—" the middle-aged man gritted his teeth, his face dark. "Do you dare swear that he is not your subordinate?!"

"I can swear to any Deity, devil, demon, Angel, or whatever other being you want," Ron said, raising his hand, his expression calm. "He is indeed not my subordinate."

"I do know him, and he did help me establish a foothold in Delusional Land—but so what? What does that prove? That he’s supposed to obey my commands?"

"’If a person works for you, they are your slave.’ I suppose that’s a way of thinking unique to you Carolinians, right? Oh, I almost forgot. And the Hailan Empire, too?"

"One of their old-guard remnants is currently with you, enjoying your hospitality. Am I right?"