Encounter on the Road and Ambush

The wheels, wrapped in cork and resin, whirred and sped down the smooth main street…

Inside the carriage, Instructor Marlin snored softly, leaning against the front sofa seat. Lorist was extremely satisfied with his new carriage; it was good, stable, and comfortable. The horses were good, well-trained. Even Ready, who was driving, surprised him with his excellent horsemanship. It seemed taking in Ready was the right decision, and Er was right, the kid would be a good attendant.

"Hmm, there's a small latch here. So the window can open inwards." A cool evening breeze swept in, feeling quite refreshing. Lorist decided to keep the window open and watched the street scenes outside glide by.

"Huh? Stop the carriage!" Lorist shouted.

"Whoa…" Ready pulled hard on the reins, and the carriage stopped about seven or eight meters forward. The two Zino horses pulling it snorted in dissatisfaction.

"What is it, Master?" Ready asked.

After becoming Lorist's attendant, Ready had changed his form of address. In Galintea, when an attendant called the person they served "Master," it didn't signify a master-slave relationship, but rather someone who could make decisions for their attendant.

"Turn around, go back, and stop at that small square with the lamppost," Lorist instructed.

"Okay." Ready tugged on the reins, guiding the two Zino horses to turn and head towards the brightly lit small square.

The carriage stopped, and Lorist jumped out, walking towards the long bench by the flower bed in the center of the small square.

The long bench was directly under the lamppost. Three people, two adults and two children, were sitting there, huddled closely together. The middle-aged man, hearing the commotion, opened his eyes, which were half-asleep, and looked over. Upon seeing Lorist approach, he couldn't help but be startled, "It's you…"

"It is. You… are they your children?" Lorist suddenly understood something.

This middle-aged man was the last challenger in Lorist's duel match that morning, the middle-aged mercenary Grey Bordefinger, who had left a deep impression on Lorist.

"Yes, this is my son, Shiward, twelve years old. And this is my daughter, Alisha, seven years old," Bordefinger introduced his two children.

"Are you and the children planning to spend the night here?" Lorist couldn't fathom how a peak Silver-ranked swordsman could be reduced to such a state. Only vagrants and beggars would make do with a night on a roadside bench like this. If he hadn't seen this opponent he admired sitting with his two children in the carriage earlier and confirmed he wasn't mistaken, Lorist wouldn't have asked Ready to turn the carriage back.

A bitter smile flickered across Bordefinger's face. "We just arrived from the Krissen Empire. We didn't have much with us, and I was greedy. I thought I had a sure bet to win the challenge, so I pooled all the money I had to register. For the past few days, I've been selling off our belongings to get by. I was confident until today. I never expected to lose to you and disappoint the children. The landlord lost a lot of money betting on me, and I was also behind on rent for days, so he kicked us out. Now we have nowhere to go and no money, so we can only make do here for the night."

Lorist felt a pang of sadness. If he had truly been Black Iron-ranked Battle Qi, he wouldn't have been a match for Bordefinger. But no one expected he wasn't cultivating Battle Qi, but the Golden Water Art from his previous life.

"Didn't you think about finding some temporary work?" Lorist asked, puzzled. Logically, a Silver-ranked expert like Bordefinger should be in high demand for various jobs, even household security. He could also join a mercenary group; many groups would offer a substantial joining fee to recruit a powerhouse like Bordefinger.

"I tried, but it didn't work out," Bordefinger said with a wry smile, shaking his head. "I already regret coming to Molent City. I didn't expect the residents of Molent City, who claim to pursue freedom and equality, to be so xenophobic and discriminate against outsiders. At the Mercenary Guild, it's difficult for us outsider mercenaries to get good missions, and even if we do, they impose harsh conditions like requiring guarantees beyond our capabilities. Especially for us from the Krissen Empire, we are subjected to humiliation and hostility here. They contemptuously call us 'losers' and look down on people from the Krissen Empire. The war ended twenty years ago, and the Krissen Empire no longer exists, yet people here still regard us as enemies. Furthermore, I have two children with me, so when taking on missions, I have to consider our safety. Therefore, those mercenary groups believe I wouldn't be able to dedicate myself wholeheartedly to the guild… If I had won this morning, I would have left with the prize money and taken the children to another country. This place is not the city where we thought we could find freedom and happiness…"

Bordefinger's tone carried a mix of grief, indignation, and a hint of disappointment, along with underlying regret. If he hadn't thought he would win, if the landlord hadn't egged him on, if he hadn't been blinded by the high prize money, he wouldn't have gambled everything and used all his money to register for the duel. The ten gold coin registration fee would have been enough for him to leave this city full of greed and indifference with his children, and he could have even bought a few acres of land and a small house in a remote village, giving his children a stable life.

Alas, it was his own greed. He hadn't calmly considered that a Black Iron-ranked instructor would dare to challenge all Silver-ranked individuals. If he lacked the ability, how could he have such confidence and certainty? Even he couldn't claim to defeat all Silver-ranked opponents of his own level. Only after losing the duel did he understand, but it was too late for regret. Bordefinger lowered his head in frustration.

"Where in the Krissen Empire are you from?" Lorist asked.

"I'm from the northern region of the Krissen Empire," Bordefinger replied.

"Oh? What a coincidence. I'm also from the Krissen Empire, and from the north as well. I announced my name during our duel this morning, Norton Lorist. Do you know the Norton family from the north?" Lorist asked, pleasantly surprised to meet a fellow countryman.

"Norton? The Roaring Giant Bears of the Far North Wastes? I've heard of them, a famous military merit noble family from the north. I heard about them in the army. Many commoners enlisted hoping to earn military merit and become nobles like the ancestors of the Norton family, obtaining hereditary land. But in hundreds of years, how many have succeeded? However, why are you in Molent City, and why are you accepting challenges from Silver-ranked swordsmen?" Bordefinger seemed a bit confused.

Lorist smiled and said, "That's a long story. I left home ten years ago to study in Molent City. Later, due to the civil war in the empire, I lost contact with my family and haven't heard from them for six or seven years. Since you're from the north, you should know the current situation of our family, right?"

Bordefinger seemed to understand, but then shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't know. I haven't been back to my hometown for nearly twenty years myself. The north is vast, and my hometown, Mond Town, is quite far from your family's territory; it would take three or four days to get there even by horse. I left home at twenty-one to serve in the imperial army and was later promoted to officer, so I stayed in the army. Since I had no relatives back home, I settled down in the imperial capital when I got married. But then, I never expected the empire to fall into chaos. The three princes fought for six years over the throne, reducing a perfectly good empire to ruins. When the war finally ended, I returned home only to find nothing left. My wife was dead, my home was burned down, and my two children were surviving by scavenging. If it weren't for the help and care of my neighbors, I might not have seen them again. I packed up what little I had and brought the children here, hoping to give them a peaceful home…"

Oh, so Bordefinger came from a military background, seasoned by many battles, accustomed to life and death. No wonder he remained calm and composed in critical moments during the duel that morning. Moreover, with his peak Silver-ranked skills, he could have easily obtained money from ordinary families without anyone noticing, thus alleviating his predicament. But he didn't. He would rather let his children suffer with him and spend the night by the roadside. Such integrity was truly rare and admirable.

At this moment, Ready approached Lorist, glanced at Bordefinger and his two children, and asked in a low voice, "Master, what's wrong?"

Lorist smiled at Bordefinger and extended an invitation. "We've met, and what's more, we're from the same hometown. Brother Bordefinger, we can't just stand here chatting until dawn. May I have the honor of inviting the three of you to my humble abode? I'd like to inquire about the situation in our homeland."

"This…" Bordefinger hesitated. He knew Lorist's intentions were good, but he was reluctant to accept the invitation in his current destitute state.

A cold wind blew, and the two sleeping children shivered.

Lorist took a few steps forward, blocking the wind. "Brother, I know you still have the pride of a soldier and don't want to accept pity or charity, but you have to think about the children. Although it's spring, the night wind is cold, and sleeping like this, the children are easily susceptible to catching a cold. If they get sick, it will be even more troublesome for you. Besides, we're fellow countrymen. If I don't help you in your current situation, I'll feel guilty. You know we northerners are known for our straightforwardness and hospitality. What is there to hesitate about? Let's go."

"Alright. Then we will impose on you." Bordefinger no longer hesitated and nodded, accepting the invitation.

Bordefinger bent down to pick up his sleeping daughter. As he was about to wake his son, Lorist shushed him. "Don't wake him. I'll carry him."

"Let me do it, Master." Ready stepped forward, bent down, and picked up the little boy.

Indeed, the sixteen-year-old Ready carried the twelve-year-old boy as if he weighed nothing, without blushing or panting. Er wasn't exaggerating when he said Ready was strong.

Bordefinger bent down again to pick up a small bundle wrapped around a long sword from the bench. This was a personal item, and Lorist felt it inappropriate to carry it without permission.

"Let's get in the carriage first. There's a drunk colleague in the carriage, and I need to take him back first. It's on the way, so you'll have to squeeze in a bit," Lorist said, pointing to the carriage.

"We're the ones causing you trouble. You don't need to be so polite, Mr. Norton," Bordefinger expressed his gratitude.

Lorist turned and walked towards the carriage. "Call me Locke. When you call me 'Mister,' I feel uncomfortable. Let's just use names. I'll call you Bode…"

"Careful! To your left!" Bordefinger's startled cry reached Lorist's ears.

Lorist quickly dodged to the side. What met his eyes were four light blades, each half a foot long, rapidly flying towards him…

Dodge? No, behind him were Bordefinger, holding his daughter, and Ready, holding the little boy. If he dodged these four light blades, they would surely be hit. He could already see Bordefinger turning, intending to shield his daughter with his own body. Bordefinger clearly expected Lorist to dodge and was prepared to be injured by the light blades. Ready, on the other hand, was frozen in place by the sudden crisis.

Damn it, it's a Gold-ranked enemy! Where's my sword? Lorist fumbled for his long sword, only to remember he had taken it off and placed it behind the sofa seat when he got into the carriage. Fortunately, his short sword was still at his waist.

"Clang!" The short sword was drawn. "Clang, clang, clang, clang!" In a flash of lightning, the short sword danced, deflecting all four light blades before they reached him. Lorist's heart settled. With this strength and speed, these light blades, emitted by a mere Gold One-star swordsman, posed no threat to him. They were nothing to fear. However, he felt a bit unaccustomed to using his short sword as his primary weapon.

"You guys take the children into the carriage. Ready, drive back to the tavern. I'll handle this here. Hurry…" Lorist ordered in a low voice.

"Oh, you actually managed to block my four light blades. It seems you, a Black Iron-ranked individual, do have some skill," two figures appeared at the edge of the small square, slowly approaching at a leisurely pace.

"Don't worry, we don't want your life. We're just acting on someone's behalf, and we only need one of your arms. It'll be over soon; you just need to endure it for a moment. Heh heh," one of the figures said, either out of self-perceived humor or because they were confident of victory.

"If you want my arm, you'll have to pay with your lives," Lorist replied coldly.

"Heh, we're not Silver Rank. For two Gold Swordsmen, killing you would be as easy as killing a chicken. Even a cornered chicken will try to fly up the roof. Where do you think a big guy like you can run?"

"Senior Brother, stop wasting time. Are you going up, or should I? Let's finish this quickly so we can go back for drinks. The two women our junior brother found for us are waiting in the room." Another figure sounded impatient.

"Sword." A longsword was handed over.

This was the longsword Lorist had left on the carriage. Bordefinger had carried his daughter onto the carriage, taken Lorist's sword, and returned.

"They're after me. This has nothing to do with you." Lorist took the longsword and glanced back hurriedly. Seeing Ready driving the carriage away, he felt half relieved.

"Those light blades they just unleashed were also aimed at Alisha and me," Bordefinger said, his voice filled with anger, drawing his own sword with a clang. If Lorist hadn't blocked those four light blades, he and Alisha would have been in grave danger. Even though the attackers were after Lorist, they had targeted his daughter and him without distinction. He couldn't stand for that.

"They're Gold Rank. You need to be careful," Lorist warned.

"Hmph, I've fought Gold Rank before. I've killed several of them on the battlefield," Bordefinger said.

"Heh, such big talk. I'd like to see how you plan to kill me, a Gold Rank. Junior Brother, it's perfect, two of them, one for each of us. As for that Locke, we'll just break his arm like our junior brother said. This Silver Rank fellow can just be killed."

"Alright."

As soon as the words fell, two figures from the opposite side lunged forward with chilling killing intent