As Arran followed the woman through the camp, he could not help but be impressed by the vast number of people he saw .
Earlier, he'd thought there had been tens of thousands, but now, he thought that estimate was off . There had to be at least a hundred thousand people here, and probably even more than that .
But despite the large number of people, there was little sign of filth or disorder . While it might lack actual buildings, it was a far more pleasant place than Esran had been .
"Awful lot of people you've got here," he said to the woman .
"It gets crowded," she replied in a casual tone . "Especially near the end of the month . But we do our best to keep the conditions acceptable . "
"What happens near the end of the month?" Arran asked . Although he already suspected what the answer would be, it couldn't hurt to ask . He'd been wary of giving voice to his curiosity earlier, but here, he suspected that it would be more suspicious not to ask questions .
"This is merely a temporary gathering place," the woman said . "At the end of each month, those gathered here will move on to their next destination . "
"And where's that?"
The pious soldier had already given Arran the answer several days earlier, but he was curious to hear what this woman would say — and whether she would tell the truth or not . Find authorized novels in Webnovel,faster updates, better experience,Please click www . webnovel . com for visiting .
"You will be given a choice," she said . "But that is a matter of later concern . Right now, I'm taking you to the other Body Refiners . "
Arran frowned . "You're keeping us Body Refiners apart from the others? Why?"
The woman gave him a flat look . "Because wolves and sheep make for poor companions . But that's enough questions from you . Now come along, but please, do so quietly . "
Arran reluctantly held his tongue, instead turning his attention to their surroundings .
The camp was alive with people, most of whom looked clean and well-fed . And although they kept a respectful distance between themselves and the guards who patrolled the areas between the tents, there was little sign of fear in their eyes .
Instead, all Arran saw as he looked at the borderlanders was comfortable boredom . Perhaps the camp wasn't where they wanted to be, but it was obvious that they were well-treated .
He could not escape the thought that to these people, the Imperium would seem far friendlier than the Ninth Valley . While the former had taken them in and fed them, the latter dismissed them as commoners, unworthy of even the slightest bit of attention .
After some minutes, Arran and his escort neared the far edge of the camp . And although the woman was silent, he could tell that there was a hint of hesitation in her step when they approached their destination .
Finally, she came to a halt .
"The Body Refiners' grounds are just up ahead," she said .
Arran gave her a curious look . "You're not taking me there?"
"There's no need for me to waste my time," she replied . "From here, you can find your own way . There should be plenty of empty tents available . "
As Arran looked at her, he saw that there was a hint of unease in her eyes as she looked at the area ahead . It wasn't fear, exactly . Rather, it resembled the look of a shopkeeper who had just seen a difficult customer enter his store .
It was clear that the woman had no intention of going forward even another inch . Arran shrugged, and with a friendly nod, he started toward the camp's far corner, curious to see what could stop the guards from moving freely in their own camp .
After only a few dozen paces, he began to see a change in the people around him .
Because where the rest of the camp was filled with farmers, craftsmen, merchants, and other commoners, the people here were clearly Body Refiners .
Yet with just a few glances, Arran saw that although they all shared the same source of strength, that was where the similarities ended .
Some of the people around him looked like bandits or mercenaries, while others wore the robes of scholars or monks . And there were others still who were dressed like common farmers and villagers, with only their movements betraying their powers .
Arran looked around with great interest, and in return, he received many curious glances as he passed .
Toward the edge of the camp, however, he noticed another change in the people around him . The diversity faded, and instead, all but a few of the Body Refiners in the area had the rough look of mercenaries .
"Newcomer!" a voice suddenly sounded .
Arran turned toward the sound, and found that it had come from a tall, dark-skinned man with a powerful build . Yet while he had the physique of a warrior, his clothes gave Arran some pause .
The man before him wore an elegant outfit of red and black, dressed more like a courtier or wealthy merchant than a mercenary . And on his head, he wore a large, wide-brimmed hat, topped with what looked to be a peacock feather .
Arran gave the man a mystified look, to which the man responded with a wide grin and an elegant bow .
"Captain Kalesh, at your service," the man said . "And who might you be?"
"Name's Arran," Arran said . Then, eyebrow raised in puzzlement, he asked, "You're a captain? Of what?"
"I am, indeed, a captain," the man replied . "The captain and commander of the Wolfsblood Company, in fact . "
"The Wolfsblood Company?" Arran's puzzled grown grew deeper as he stared at the man before him, uncertain whether he was the victim of some bizarre joke .
"Indeed," the man replied . "Finest mercenary company in the borderlands — or it was, before we traveled here . The brave men and women you see around you are my loyal underlings . "
"We're not your bloody underlings!"
The man glanced at the source of the shout — a young but hard-faced woman who sat in front of one of the tents, a mug of ale in her hand as she gave him an exasperated look .
The man sighed, then said himself, "My esteemed colleagues, as they prefer to be called . " From the look in his eyes, he thought his own description the better one .
"What brings a mercenary company to the Imperium?" Arran asked . "I'd think the war to come would be good for a business like yours . "
"Not all wars are created alike," the man replied . "And in the particular one, I deemed it prudent to ally myself with the winning side . "
Arran nodded . While the rest of what the man said made little sense, this, at least, he could understand . "So do you know why they're keeping us apart from the others?"
The man gave him an uneasy look . "I'm afraid you may have us to blame for that . There was a small scuffle, nothing serious, but—"
"Our idiot leader beat up one of the guard captains," the woman interrupted him . "Broke his jaw, and a bunch of his ribs besides . "
The man gave her an annoyed look . "Now, Lasha, you know full well the fiend deserved it . I cannot let some uniformed buffoon besmirch our honor . "
The woman rolled her eyes, but then turned her attention back to her mug of ale, clearly uninterested in arguing the matter any further .
The man returned his gaze to Arran . "As I was saying, there was a small scuffle . Nothing too serious, really . And as a result, we've been given our own quarters in this camp . "
He gave Arran an appraising glance, then continued, "But enough about that . You look interesting — stronger than most here, I'd say . "
"I have a bit of strength," Arran replied cautiously .
"Then perhaps you'd be interested in a small wager?" A small smile formed on the man's face as he looked at Arran . "A little sparring match between the two of us, for a gold coin or two?"
Arran hesitated, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance . A bit of sparring would do him good after months of travel, and he was curious to see the level of strength these mercenaries possessed .
"Excellent!" the mercenary captain said, his small smile turning into a broad grin in an instant . "Let's see what you can do! But no blades, mind you — the guards don't like us using weapons . "
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