Departure

The night passed quickly. When Soren woke and prepared to take Vivian to buy a mount, he immediately noticed that Amber City had far more guards than before. Even the Ninth Legion, which had been stationed near Black Pig Forest, had been recalled. This was Amber City's finest legion, with a total of one hundred and twenty-six members. Most were Warriors above level eight, along with a small number of Rangers, priests, and Barbarians. They were all mid-tier professionals; any one of them could wipe out a gang.

Among Amber City's twelve hundred standing troops, they were also one of the foremost elite legions!

"What's going on?"

Soren reached out and picked up Vivian. Looking at the clearly panicked crowd around them, he frowned. "Did something happen again?"

Just then.

A dark-skinned youth in the distance suddenly waved and shouted.

"Hey!"

He immediately shoved through the crowd and ran to Soren, panting. "Finally found you."

"Luckily, I heard you say yesterday that you wanted to buy mounts, so I waited here at the Mule and Horse Market early this morning. Otherwise, you probably would've missed it today."

"Don't ask yet."

"Come with me. I'll explain on the way!" Soren found the youth before him rather familiar. After thinking for a moment, he remembered that the boy was one of the people he had seen in the caravan when he was looking for one headed to White Horse City. He seemed to be a servant of the caravan owner.

Why was he waiting here for him?

Weren't they supposed to leave tomorrow? Had they changed their minds?

"What's going on?"

After some thought, Soren still asked, "Why are you waiting here for us?"

"The master is leaving."

The dark-skinned youth pushed through the crowd and replied quickly, "Early this morning, the master said we were leaving immediately. Even the steward was sent to sell off the goods."

"Since the master remembered the promise to take you along, she sent me to find you first thing this morning."

"The caravan is leaving at noon today!"

"Come on."

"It's over there!"

The dark-skinned youth led Soren through several twists and turns, quickly arriving near Amber City's north gate. Quite a few people had already gathered there, and dozens of large carts were parked nearby. A fully armed escort team was spread around the area. They had traveled with the caravan for over three months and were all from the merchants' homeland. This was a standard Northern Caravan, though one thing was unusual: its Boss was a woman, a woman from Tanara. —"Descendants of the witches!"

Soren could hear some Northerner Merchants complaining. They roughly meant that selling their goods off in such a rush meant they had failed to make the money they should have, and might even suffer considerable losses.

However.

Though the merchants complained, they still ordered their workers to unload the goods.

The Northern Witch held an extremely high reputation!

In the eyes of Northerners, they were incomparably noble—not only powerful and mysterious, but also capable of foreseeing the future!

"Here we are."

The dark-skinned youth stopped and caught his breath. "The caravan will leave at noon today. I brought you here first so you'd know the place."

"There's less than half a day until departure."

"If you plan to come with us, go prepare your things now."

"If you plan to leave on your own tomorrow, the master said you can find Steward Fredli. He'll return the deposit you paid in advance."

Leaving now?

Soren could not help frowning as he thought to himself, Did the witch foresee that the Skinning Incident would escalate further?

"But why such a rush?"

"It's only one day! Could some major change happen within that day?"...

"Never mind."

"Better safe than sorry. Leaving a day early is still leaving early."

Soren nodded at once, slung Vivian's petite body onto his back, and said gravely, "I'll go back and get our things now, then meet you here at noon."

"Alright."

The dark-skinned youth nodded seriously. "Then you'd better come early."

"The master always means what she says!"

"If you're late, the caravan definitely won't wait for you."

Soren acknowledged him, then carried Vivian toward the Slums. There was still some time before noon, enough to return and get their things, but there would be no time to carefully choose a mount. Soren could only raise his offer to around twenty Gold Dalers and buy a tougher travel horse from another mule and horse merchant.

Elsewhere.

Inside a large carriage at the center of the caravan, a typical bearded Northern merchant entered respectfully and knelt on the floor. "Master."

"All the goods have been sold."

"But because time was so tight, the profit we made was less than thirty percent of what we originally expected."

"And because we haven't had enough time to purchase more goods, we'll lose even more profit at the next stop."

"The merchants below are complaining."

A gauze curtain hung inside the carriage, making it seem very spacious. There was even enough room for a table.

Fine carpets and cloth covered all four sides, while strange patterns decorated the walls. Across from him, he could vaguely make out the figure of a graceful woman. She lounged lazily on a couch, a thin veil covering her face. Her azure eyes stared at the card held between her fingers. On its back were mysterious magic patterns like a whirlpool.

"I smell death."

The mysterious woman tossed away the card, casually drew one from a deck of Tarot, and revealed a ferocious skeletal knight. She said coldly, "If anyone intends to stay behind, let them leave the caravan on their own."

"Otherwise."

"Tell them to shut up!"

The bearded merchant nodded and rose from the floor. "I will convey your will to them."

With a weary sigh.

The mysterious woman lazily lay across the long table, propping up her head with one hand as she pondered. She waved casually. "Go."

"Tell them not to stop."

"After departure, travel continuously until the moon is overhead, then find a place with water to make camp."

A respectful reply came from outside. The bearded merchant relayed her exact words to the leader of the caravan guards. The man nodded solemnly and began ordering the other guards to prepare their things. If they were not stopping at all on the road, everyone had to bring dry rations. Such circumstances were rare, since caravans usually traveled for a while before resting.

If they kept going without pause, even the cattle and horses pulling the carts would not be able to endure it!

They would be exhausted the next day. If they were too fatigued, they might even be worked to death. Such an order was only given under extremely unusual circumstances.

Traveling from noon until the moon was overhead—twelve hours without stopping—was no simple matter.

Soren immediately returned to the Slums.

After packing his things, he took Vivian to the Mule and Horse Market, intending to buy a travel horse at a price thirty percent higher than usual.

He had originally planned to visit the Temple of Morninglord that afternoon and bid farewell to the young priestess, but everything had happened so suddenly that he had no time to worry about that.

He could only hope they would meet again someday!

From packing his things to buying the travel horse, Soren had been pressed for time. He arrived just in time before the caravan departed at noon.

A bearded caravan steward gave him a few instructions, then ordered everyone else to set out.

His instructions were simple. The caravan would travel at full speed today and would not stop until the moon was overhead. If they could not keep up, arrangements would be made for them to ride in one of the carts, since much of the cargo had been sold off cheaply. Even as they were leaving, a Northern merchant was still complaining that he had only received two-thirds of the payment for goods he had sold at a reduced price.

With their rushed departure, he would not be able to collect the remaining third!

No one paid him any attention.

Once the time came, the entire caravan sprang into motion. The workers climbed onto the carts and began driving the cattle and horses forward.

The caravan guards had already mounted up to scout the road ahead.

Their work was not simply following alongside the caravan. Among Adventurers, only experienced veterans could serve as caravan guards, because when traveling through the wilderness, they also acted as scouts to a certain extent. They had to determine whether monsters were active nearby, whether danger lay ahead, whether the route needed changing, and even whether the road conditions were good—whether the carts could pass through, whether workers needed to be arranged beforehand to clear the road and fill in potholes that might hinder the carts.

All these tasks fell to the caravan guards!

Simply following the caravan and drawing their blades to cut people down once enemies surrounded them—

That was the sort of scene found in third-rate adventure tales.

It existed purely to make the protagonists, who were about to show off their skills, seem more impressive by depicting caravan guards as so incompetent!

They traveled through dangerous wilderness year after year.

Even an idiot, as long as he survived, would eventually become skilled!

The professional levels of these caravan guards were not low at all.