When all of Shen Mo’s subordinates had left the main tent, only Shen Mo, the gold-armored warrior behind him, and a few maidservants remained in the spacious tent.
Will, the Night’s Watch ranger left behind, fell back into a state of nervous helplessness.
Although he couldn’t understand these people’s language, Will could still sense things from their tone and intonation.
That was precisely why Will was terrified.
Shen Mo glanced at Will, who was standing there looking as though he wanted to curl himself into a ball, and a slight smile curved the corner of his lips.
“Miao Yi, go find him a place to sleep.” The gold-armored warrior named Miao Yi gave a slight nod, then stepped up to Will.
“W-what are you doing?” The crushing pressure of the warrior’s height made Will’s legs go weak, nearly bringing him to his knees.
But then Shen Mo explained, in a language Will could understand, that this gold-armored warrior would take him to his sleeping quarters for the night.
Once Shen Mo finished explaining, Miao Yi grabbed Will by the arm and hauled him out of the main tent.
Finally, peace and quiet.
Shen Mo reached up to rub the bridge of his nose, pondering everything that had transpired.
Crossing over twice was truly far too intense.
Just like most transmigrator predecessors, Shen Mo had met his first transmigration while playing Total War: Warhammer 3 with a dragon mod installed.
Shen Mo had been quite lucky.
His system allowed him to generate troops out of thin air following the game’s recruitment mechanics without needing to worry about logistics or similar issues.
As long as he had money, everything could be handled through the system.
Actually, at the beginning, Shen Mo had wondered if his system might be the work of a certain big blue bird.
But reflecting on the fact that he was in Cathay, and that this was the Warhammer Fantasy world, he stopped worrying so much.
The reason was simple—compared to the Warp in 40K, which was already an open-air cesspool, the Four Gods of the Fantasy world were not powerful to the point of absolute invincibility.
Although the Fantasy world was ultimately destroyed in the end, compared to the perpetual doom of 40K, Shen Mo believed that with his cheat, he could still make a name for himself in the land of Cathay.
Subsequent developments hadn’t differed much from what Shen Mo had imagined.
Thanks to the mighty power of the Dragon Emperor, Chaos corruption within Cathay was not overly rampant.
The most flourishing among them were the followers of Tzeentch.
However, aside from what the system provided, Shen Mo treated all folk legends circulating among the common people as Tzeentchian temptations.
While doing so might cause Shen Mo to miss out on certain fortunate encounters, considering that the Warhammer Fantasy world was still a setting under the pen of the supreme evil god GW, Shen Mo felt losing a few opportunities was no big deal.
And so, slacking off while passing the days, Shen Mo successfully built good relations with three of the Dragon Children in Cathay.
As a mercenary leader, Shen Mo had supported Miao Ying, the Storm Dragon; fought off all kinds of monsters and cults under Zhao Ming, the Iron Dragon; and, recommended by both Dragon Children, followed the orders of Yuan Bo, the Jade Dragon, to escort envoys to the Empire.
For ten whole years, Shen Mo, as the biggest mercenary boss in Cathay, had been exploring this brand-new world.
Speaking of mercenaries, most government officials in Cathay had a particular impression of Shen Mo: he had an exceptionally good relationship with the Dragon Children, but as a mercenary leader, the military force under his command seemed a bit too powerful.
After all, what kind of mercenary unit had the fully armed imperial guards of the Dragon Children as their vanguard?
Those days continued until Shen Mo made a suggestion to Yuan Bo: to counter the Chaos armies that might appear in the future, they should provide agricultural tech support to Kislev.
This was an idea that had popped into Shen Mo’s head after returning from the Empire.
In Bretonnia, he had seen those lands supposedly blessed by the Lady of the Lake.
No wonder the knightly lords there dared to levy a ninety percent tax; the crop yield from those bountiful fields was truly staggering.
So, Shen Mo began attempting to use magic to increase crop yields.
The plan succeeded.
Shen Mo was then ordered by Yuan Bo to go to Kislev, taking a batch of magic-cultivated seeds and other cash crops modified to suit cold regions.
After the expedition set off, Shen Mo encountered a strange occurrence.
In his dreams at night, he would frequently dream of a palace.
Inside the palace sat a throne made of white jade, emeralds, and countless jewels, and upon the throne sat a burly, imposing man.
That was the Dragon Emperor.
Although he had never seen the Dragon Emperor’s true face, Shen Mo was certain that the person sitting on that white jade and emerald throne was the Dragon Emperor.
He couldn’t see the Dragon Emperor’s face clearly, but he could see his mouth opening and closing.
What was he saying?
Shen Mo didn’t know.
Such dreams continued until a blizzard swallowed the entire expedition.
When the storm cleared, Shen Mo found himself in this land known as Westeros.
…
[You are but a casual pawn on his chessboard.] A woman’s voice suddenly rang out in his mind, and Shen Mo, who had his eyes closed, snapped them open.
He looked around.
Aside from the maidservants, there was no one else in the main tent.
He raised a hand to touch his forehead.
The area above his temples sometimes felt a bit itchy.
“My Lord, it is getting late,” a maidservant spoke up.
Shen Mo stood up and walked to the entrance of the main tent.
Reaching out, he pulled back the door curtain.
The cold wind and snow from outside blew in, the frigid air refreshing his spirit.
He looked up at the sky; night had enveloped this land at some unknown point.
Though the sky was dark, it had not reached the point of pitch blackness.
Torches were lit throughout the encampment, and the clanging of metalwork still echoed from the living quarters of the Iron General Guild.
“My Lord,” a Jade Shield Guard bowed to Shen Mo.
“Carry on with your work, I’m just taking a stroll.” Watching the guard’s departing back, Shen Mo couldn’t help but summon his system interface in his mind.
Those unit cards were originally supposed to represent warriors generated out of thin air, but now, these soldiers no longer felt like cold game entities.
Even those elite imperial guards who had once protected the Dragon Children now looked more like living, breathing human beings rather than troops produced by a system.
Shen Mo felt he needed to quickly shift away from his old playstyle in Cathay—the kind where he ignored army casualties and simply selected all forces to attack at once.
He needed to think more, to learn more.
Nearly ten thousand lives were resting entirely in his hands.
If he took a single wrong step, he would lead all these people to their deaths in this unfamiliar land.
After making a circuit around the military camp and checking the arrangement of sentry posts, Shen Mo returned to his personal quarters.
Two maidservants immediately stepped forward to greet him.
Hot water was already prepared, steam billowing from the wooden tub.
Looking at the maidservants helping him undress, Shen Mo decided that whatever difficulties lay ahead, he would leave them for tomorrow.
Living in the present—that was the most important thing.