Chapter 119: Rescue Squad (I)

"Thal, my friend, I knew you would have a way! Tell us, how is our old hero going to save Dulin Town this time?" Flint looked at the old ranger with a cheerful smile, expecting him to resolve the current crisis just as he had done twenty years ago.

"None of that nonsense!" Old Thal cast a reproachful glance at the dwarf. "Dwarf, we humans are not like you. Time is particularly cruel to us. You look no different than you did twenty years ago, but I am no longer the hot-blooded young Guillaume of that time. Neither my body nor my spirit can bear the weight of being a 'hero' anymore. That honor must be left to the younger generation."

These words carried a touch of sadness. Joann noticed that both Flint and Tindall wore expressions of melancholy, perhaps stirred by the old man's reflection on his own lost youth.

"Jason, regarding the request for outside aid, I have two ideas."

"Mr. Thal, please, go on." Mayor Tindall looked at the old ranger with deep respect and anticipation.

"Just two hours ago, I sent a letter to Algonquin Valley. If my animal messenger—a strong hunting falcon—did not encounter any interference on its journey, Victor Galinin and Matoka Powhatan should receive my letter by tonight at the latest."

"Will the Asa people come to our aid?" Flint couldn't help but interrupt.

"Based on my knowledge of the couple, they should offer assistance. After all, it concerns the interests of Powhatan Village itself—if Dulin Town is destroyed, the next target for the coalition of goblins and lizardfolk will surely be Powhatan. Saving us is equivalent to saving themselves," Thal analyzed calmly.

Joann nodded in agreement. From what he had seen and heard during his stay in Powhatan Village, his grandfather’s assessment of the Asa people's mindset was spot on. Even without considering the personal friendship between the Conty family and his grandfather, purely out of self-interest, Conty's parents had sufficient reason to rescue Dulin Town.

"The journey from Powhatan Village to Dulin Town is long. Even if the Galinins are willing to send troops, we might not hold out until they arrive. Therefore, we cannot pin all our hopes on the Asa; we must find another way out," Thal continued.

"What is this other way you speak of?" Mayor Tindall asked curiously.

"Seek aid from the garrison at Leyton Port." Seeing the anticipation on Tindall's face quickly turn to disappointment, Thal smiled slightly and added, "But there is no need to send someone to Leyton Port to see the Governor. Go directly to the cavalry camp in Dulin Valley and seek aid from Major George Vasa."

"There is indeed a cavalry training camp in Dulin Valley, about two to three days' journey from here. If the local commander is willing to help, that would be ideal, but what are the chances that this newly appointed Major, George Vasa, would mobilize troops to Dulin Town without authorization from the Governor or his superiors?" Flint stroked his beard, looking hesitant. "Thal, my friend, are you well-acquainted with this Major Vasa?"

"Certainly not. I don't know the Major at all," Thal said nonchalantly.

"You don't even know the man, and you expect him to risk a court-martial to help us!" Flint shouted indignantly.

"I am certain that this stranger, Major Vasa, will help, for two reasons." The old ranger held up two fingers. "First, Victor Galinin holds him in high regard, and my young apprentice rarely misjudges people. Second, George Vasa is a paladin of the 'Queen of Causality,' Tymora; his faith does not allow him to stand idly by while civilians are slaughtered by thugs."

"That doesn't sound like a very reliable reason, Thal. As far as I know, when obedience to orders and fighting evil conflict, rigid paladins often choose the former. Will our Major be an exception?" the old dwarf asked, worried.

"Regardless of what kind of man Major Vasa is, we have no other options. We must try to persuade him to send troops—at the very least, it is worth a try," Thal stated firmly.

"True. Whether Major Vasa is willing to help is one thing, but for our part, we must get the letter to him as soon as possible. Let the Goddess of Fate decide the rest," Mayor Tindall sighed, forcing himself to look energized. "I will start writing the letter now. The remaining question is who will deliver it. Mr. Thal, do you have any other 'animal messengers' available?"

"It is best not to let birds deliver this letter. The regular army's encampment is not like our militia camp; they always clear a large open area around the barracks as a security zone. Any bird attempting to cross that zone will be shot down by sentries to prevent the leakage of military secrets. An animal messenger cannot speak to clarify its identity, and the risk of being shot down by mistake is too high. We cannot afford that risk," Thal analyzed cautiously.

"Then leave it to me!" Flint puffed out his chest. "I guarantee I will deliver the letter to George Vasa. If that Major dares to refuse, humph! I'll grab him by his beard and drag him to Dulin Town myself!"

Tindall and Thal exchanged a look and shook their heads in silent agreement. The old dwarf's hot temper was clearly unsuited for a diplomatic task—that wasn't a way to ask for help; it was a surefire way to offend someone!

"Mr. Flint, you are the highest commander of our town's militia. We may face enemy attack at any moment, and in such a critical time, we cannot afford to lose our 'pillar of strength.' Let us young ones handle the errand of delivering the letter. Besides, I am very familiar with the road to the cavalry camp!" Roger said with a cheeky grin.

"You really do have a silver tongue, kid. But having said that, we do need a well-spoken messenger. I hope your eloquence will also be useful when it comes to persuading Major Vasa," the old dwarf said, stroking his beard.

Dick had been eager to volunteer, and noticing his father's displeasure, he spoke up before his father could scold Roger: "It's too dangerous for Roger to go alone. Why don't we, the entire militia squad, take on this mission together? Tom, Joann, you don't object, do you?"

Before Joann could speak, Tom jumped in: "Do you even have to ask? We are a team; of course, we move together! By the way, should we bring Vess? He is our teammate too; it wouldn't be right to leave him behind, would it?"

"If Vess doesn't mind, we can bring him along. Firstly, having a high-level druid with us makes our journey safer. Secondly, Vess is a witness to the coup in the Cold-Blooded Tribe. Having him personally explain to Major Vasa the immense threat posed by Kotar and Basson’s faction to human villages will be much more persuasive," Roger’s analysis was, as always, sound and logical.