Inside Azpen's command tent, the atmosphere was tense.
Scouts were among the most valuable assets on any battlefield.
Unlike ordinary soldiers, they rarely retreated with the main army. Even if the troops fell back, scouts remained hidden deep within forests, silently watching the enemy's every movement.
Most were trained from childhood.
Some were adopted from orphanages, while others were bought by noble families or the Mercenary Office itself and raised solely for reconnaissance. They learned how to survive alone in the wilderness, track enemies, hide their presence, and gather information without being seen. Many were also taught knife fighting, poisons, and assassination techniques in case they were discovered.
On the battlefield, information was often more valuable than a thousand soldiers.
The staff member pointed toward the map spread across the table.
"According to our scouts' latest report..."
"They've located the enemy's rear force."
"We don't know whether it's their entire force or only a portion."
"But they spotted armored lizardmen riding water lizards."
"They're moving toward the nest."
He looked directly at Azpen.
"Some believe we should intercept them."
"I disagree."
"I believe it's a trap."
The tent fell silent.
He continued.
"Sir..."
"Our first scouts failed to detect the enemy's rear force."
"We blamed the noble family's scouts."
"But even our own experienced scouts searched for two full days without finding a single trace."
"And now..."
"They suddenly appear in the open?"
He slowly shook his head.
"I don't believe it."
"I think they're trying to lure us."
"If we chase them..."
"The nest's defenders attack from the front..."
"The rear force attacks from behind..."
"And we're crushed between both."
"My opinion is simple."
"Continue raiding the nest."
"Keep applying pressure."
"Force them to make mistakes."
From the opposite side of the table, another officer carrying a sword snorted.
"Bookkeeper..."
"We're soldiers."
"We fight wars."
"I think that's their entire rear force."
"The infantry probably exaggerated their numbers."
"They were ambushed."
"Fear makes every enemy look larger."
He turned toward Azpen.
"We should intercept them."
"If we destroy their reinforcements..."
"The nest can be dealt with later."
"Without support, it'll eventually fall."
"So why waste time?"
The discussion quickly grew louder.
Each side argued over the maps.
Voices overlapped throughout the tent.
Azpen remained silent.
Then—
"Enough."
His calm voice instantly silenced everyone.
The entire tent became quiet.
"This is a war council."
"Not a marketplace."
He looked first at the Mercenary Office officer.
"I understand your concern."
"Everything you said is possible."
"The rear force disappearing..."
"Then suddenly reappearing..."
"It doesn't sit well with me either."
The officer opened his mouth again.
Azpen raised a hand, stopping him.
"But..."
"I also understand the other side."
"Our infantry may have exaggerated."
"We still don't know the enemy's true numbers."
"Right now..."
"We're standing at a crossroads."
"No one here can say with certainty which path is correct."
Azpen slowly turned his head.
Beside him sat an elderly man who had remained silent throughout the entire discussion.
"I'd like your opinion."
The old man smiled.
"Why not do both?"
Both sides immediately turned toward him in confusion.
The old man calmly folded his hands together.
Azpen looked at him with an interested smile.
"Go on."
The entire tent waited for the old man's explanation.