The initial plan to mess with the slavers was simpler in his head than it was in practice.
Using the wyverns was the obvious choice—but Count Rolalt had no idea Maple controlled them. Konrad's earlier show wouldn't have worked if he did, and revealing his hand now—
He had to keep the nobles in the dark, but it made organizing the raid hell.
Have the tribes stage an attack after all the effort he spent on pacifying them?
No. False-flag operations would've caused him more issues than they were worth.
And no matter how much people opposed slavery. Striking a caravan would've upset the merchants, and his entire economy relied on them. He couldn't risk their goodwill or the tolls.
That left him with the monsters as the only option.
If only the count weren't adamant to take part in this, but he got the intel after all.
"Here they come, kid, better get ready," the man whispered as the caravan crossed the hills.
It was much smaller than he had expected, but he had no reason to be picky.
This was his opportunity, and he couldn't let it slip away. Not after he spent most of the past two days making every detail believable. First, Maple found a place for the wyverns to hide.
Somewhere far from Halaima, but in a convenient spot for the count's men to find them.
His patrols reported their nest only a day ago, but everything soon fell into place.
"Release the hounds," Konrad choked out.
Welf and Bor gathered a dozen tribal hunters, waiting for their moment to shine. The dogs could smell the beasts from miles, eager to attack despite the size difference.
"I know it was my idea," Rolalt Del whispered. "But you sure they won't turn on us?"
The best part was how everyone involved thought they had come up with this idea.
Konrad listened to his excited vassal pitching a plan he had already devised.
But now he had second thoughts.
"In a worst-case scenario, I'll take them down here," he muttered back. He flexed his acting skills in faking some worry. "Let's hope they'll flee towards the caravan. Get your lancers ready."
The count nodded, retreating to his horse while barking muted orders.
Many things could've still gone wrong, but Konrad had faith in Maple keeping the beasts on a leash. Not like the last time—
'You're up,' he sent her a mental note.
And as the hunter's hounds neared the nest, monsters' shrieks filled the air.
Six wyvern took to the skies in a chaotic formation, but flew the exact way he wanted them.
The lancers gave chase, all heading towards the caravan—that still seemed too small in his eyes.
It was only ten wagons with a dozen guards. How was that enough for five hundred slaves?
He expected the merchant to march them on foot, all chained together. That would have been still more humane than squeezing them all into the small cargo space.
People weren't bulk ware. Unless Rolalt's intel was off?
'Make sure they won't damage the carts,' Konrad warned Maple. 'Aim for the horses instead.'
'Gotcha, bossman, there won't be any casualties,' the dragon messaged back.
They had so many mental conversations during the planning phase. Telepathy had become his second nature, but he still couldn't open a channel on his own.
Another thing to master soon, but he never had the time.
Always new challenges, always rushing, and not a minute to rest. Especially now.
The beasts circled the hills before 'finding' their 'target of opportunity'. Then, they dove on the caravan only for the lancers to interrupt them at the last moment, like a practiced dance.
'Pull them back, and make another pass,' Konrad ordered.
He could almost feel Maple roll her eyes, having gone over the choreography at least a hundred times by now. But that was still not enough for him when they risked people's lives.
"And it's our turn now," he muttered to Welf, mounting his own horse. "You get ready, too."
Riding wasn't his strong suit, but he could stay in the saddle as long as he didn't try anything fancy. Like throwing huge fireballs into the sky. Luckily, Maple took control of his ride.
And the light show soon began.
"Save the merchant first, we can replace the wares later," he shouted, rushing into the battle.
It would have been suspicious if he knew what that cargo was from the start, after all.
But the peddler seemed more than happy to give that secret away.
"No, my lord, please help," he screamed at the top of his lungs, his guards clustered around him. Konrad couldn't blame him; the wyverns were fast and terrifying. "They're irreplaceable."
That claim had him raise an eyebrow, though.
"What? What are you hauling?" he asked, pretending not to know, summoning another fireball.
If he kept his slaves in such high esteem, why would he squeeze them all into a few wagons?
"T-they're—children."
The flames disappeared as the shock broke his concentration.
A wyvern chose that moment to dive at the central cart.
He should've thrown the fire at it—but Maple pulled it back in the last moment. The door burst open—and indeed, two kids in ragged shifts jumped out, running towards the treeline.
Slaves, for sure, but he didn't expect them to be this young.
His whole plan was to rescue, free, and enlist them into his army or into the mines, but now?
It felt even more important to get them out of there—and fast.
"Break 'em out," he shouted, a sudden change of plan. "Charge in and get 'em away from there."
Who the hell was even trading with children, and why?
Those were questions that could wait—but he took a good, long look at the slaver's face to commit it to his memory. This wyvern-plan felt way too risky now, but he couldn't call it off.
'Maple,' he sent another mental note, more urgent than before.
'On it, I'm not blind, either,' the dragon scoffed in his head, and the wyverns changed formation. They seemed much more aggressive now, as if smelling a weak prey.
Their low passes over the carts ripped into the draft animals, crippling the caravan.
The line of wagons was an easy target for the monsters now, justifying their next actions.
Rolalt's lancers reached the road, braving the wyverns, but they weren't their targets.
The men dismounted, breaking heavy locks in a hurry—
And children in the dozens, malnourished and dirty, poured out to run for the woods.
Even the oldest looked no more than twelve. Their youngest shouldn't have left their mother's breasts yet. Konrad's jaw tightened as he ground his molars together.
But he had a plan to follow.
As tempting as it was to hurl a fireball at the merchant and his guards at the front—
He kept up the appearances, fighting off the wyverns instead.
'Give them chase, but don't scare them too much,' he ordered his dragon. 'Have the hunters be ready behind the treeline. Make sure they get all the children, and hide them fast.'
'Hide?' Maple's thoughts echoed with confusion. 'I thought we'd haggle for their best—'
'Not anymore,' Konrad snapped, gritting his teeth. 'None of them will go back to captivity.'