Wolf Pack

After a brief cleanup of the battlefield, the caravan continued onward. Since Soren was injured and unable to ride, he could only sit atop one of the cargo wagons.

The Mysterious Woman did not invite him into the large carriage. Their relationship was not close enough for that. She did invite Vivian, but the Little Girl shook her head and refused, then climbed onto the wagon and sat beside Soren. The group traveled on in silence. The caravan guards continued scouting the surrounding area, occasionally calling people over to fill potholes in the road. The recent heavy rains had turned the roads into muddy tracks, riddled with puddle-filled holes.

Soren was filthy, and Vivian was dusting him off.

In battle, there was naturally no time to worry about appearances. Rolling across the ground to dodge had left him covered in mud, which had dried into patches of caked dirt.

The Little Girl carefully picked it off him, rubbing at it with her small hands and blowing away the dust.

Everyone else was busy with their own tasks. Whenever they happened to look at the two on the wagon, a faint smile would unconsciously appear on their faces, and their fondness for them grew a little. The Mysterious Woman inside the large carriage in particular would occasionally lift the curtain to look at them. Naturally, her gaze fell more often on the adorable Little Girl, as though there was something about her that drew the eye.

The scene at that moment was very peaceful.

Soren sat cross-legged on the wagon, wiping his scimitar with a piece of rag. Burrowing Worm blood was acidic, and if it was not cleaned off properly, it would affect the weapon's performance. The Little Girl sat beside him, brushing the mud from his clothes. Occasionally, she puffed out her cheeks and blew at it seriously. Because the fabric was of poor quality, the dirt had seeped into the gaps in the cloth—the coarse fabric was not tightly woven—and even after being dusted clean, gray patches remained. This left the Little Girl somewhat dissatisfied.

"Use this!"

The captain of the guards smiled as he rode past, pulling out a small pouch from his clothes and tossing it to Soren. "This is refined oil. You can use it to maintain your weapon."

A blade could not be cared for simply by wiping and sharpening it.

For people like them, who made their living through battle and killing, a reliable weapon was a safeguard for their lives.

Soren smiled, caught it, and used his fingers to scoop out a little of the ointment before carefully applying it to the scimitar. This refined oil could keep weapons from rusting, and it was best to carry some before acquiring a supernatural-grade weapon. Even enchanted weapons of supernatural grade needed regular maintenance. It was an attitude toward battle.

Soren dried the scimitar with the rag, then returned it to its sheath.

Perhaps because of the exertion from the battle, or perhaps because he had lost quite a bit of blood when he was first injured, he seemed somewhat tired and drowsy.

Before he knew it, he had leaned against the wagon and drifted into a light doze.

The Little Girl watched him quietly. Perhaps she was tired as well, so she rested her Little Head against his chest, carefully avoiding his wound.

The caravan continued onward.

Whenever guards on horseback passed the wagon, they lowered their voices and softened their movements a little. It was a form of respect for the strong.

Soren might not necessarily be able to defeat them one-on-one.

But in the fight against the Burrowing Worms, he had earned the respect of these caravan guards.

Soren had not actually fallen asleep.

In truth, he rarely truly slept while out in the wilderness. Most of the time, he remained in a state of light dozing.

Half asleep, half awake.

The slightest unusual sound would rouse him.

Because he knew exactly how many dangers lurked in the wilderness, he had to remain constantly alert.

It was already evening.

The caravan still showed no intention of stopping. When Soren opened his eyes, he found the Little Girl asleep against his chest.

He carefully pulled out his arm, trying not to wake Vivian.

Unfortunately.

The Little Girl still opened her eyes. She raised a small hand and rubbed them, then looked up at him. "Brother."

"You're awake?"

Soren smiled and nodded, gently stroking her hair. A caravan guard who had fought the Burrowing Worms alongside him passed by and smilingly tossed over a bundle of bread and meat. There were not so many niceties when adventuring in the wild. The bread had been prepared in advance and was a little hard. The meat was air-dried Smoked Meat, still slightly warm from being kept against the chest, making it easier to eat.

People who spent all year traveling outside kept their rations against their chests, because otherwise the food would get so cold that it would be hard to swallow.

Soren broke off a piece of bread and handed it to Vivian, then tore off a slice of meat.

Since they were not stopping to make a fire, there was naturally no soup. Soren simply washed down the food with water, then said softly, "Once we make camp, I'll make you something tasty."

This was the wilderness.

With his skills, catching a couple of rabbits would be as easy as play. Since there were no traces of human activity here, there was plenty of game!

The only trouble was that making a fire might alert the monsters roaming the wilderness.

But with so many people here, there was nothing to fear.

The Little Girl was not picky at all. She quietly swallowed the bread with water.

Suddenly!

She seemed to sense something and looked toward the forest not far away. Tugging lightly at Soren's clothes, she whispered, "Brother."

"It feels like something over there is watching us?"

Soren immediately gripped his scimitar in alertness. Then he stood atop the wagon and looked into the distance, but unfortunately, he could see nothing. Still, based on his past experience, he was able to guess what was watching them.

"It's fine."

He gently rubbed the Little Girl's head and said slowly, "They're Gnolls that live around here."

"They probably noticed us passing by."

"However."

"These things don't dare attack large caravans. We'll leave their range soon enough."

Gnolls.

One of the more common creatures in the wilderness.

They were more dangerous than goblins and kobolds, with sharp fangs, claws, agile bodies, and a fair degree of intelligence.

These creatures loved attacking lone travelers.

However, when faced with a caravan of this size, they rarely attacked such large prey unless they were completely confident in their strength.

Gnolls were carnivores, but their groups were not particularly large.

Most packs numbered only around fifteen to thirty, and they operated in family units of roughly five to eight. Compared to attacking a heavily guarded caravan like this, they preferred hunting wild beasts and goblins. At the very least, the latter posed little danger. If they attacked humans in the wild, gnolls could not avoid casualties either.

Generally, as long as a group numbered more than five people, even if gnolls attacked, they would choose to launch a surprise assault in the middle of the night.

At first, they would quietly stalk their prey!

As the nearby woods grew denser, the caravan guards tightened their scouting formation. The number of scouts at the front increased to five, ensuring that someone could provide support at any moment if anything happened.

Some of the merchants had already begun to complain.

Traveling after dark was troublesome, and without sufficient light, the oxen and horses slowed down as well.

Fortunately.

A bright moon soon rose into view.

The moonlight was excellent tonight. Its cold glow illuminated the surroundings, making it fairly convenient for them to continue onward.

The caravan guards lit their torches.

The hands also fixed the prepared torches onto the wagons. From within the large carriage at the center, the Mysterious Woman quietly stepped out. Standing on the driver's seat, she glanced around, then pointed a finger toward the top of the carriage and uttered a strange monosyllabic incantation. A patch of light immediately appeared above the carriage.

Light!

The Mysterious Woman's wizard level was probably quite high. She had illuminated an area spanning more than a hundred feet nearby. (30–50 meters)

Cheers rose from the caravan.

The power of magic invigorated many people, and even the merchants wore faint, relieved smiles.

"That big sister's spell is amazing."

The Little Girl quietly edged closer to Soren and whispered, "The Light spell I use is only this tiny, but she can light up such a huge area."

Professional Level 15 or above!

Soren cast a deep glance at the large carriage. He had not expected the Mysterious Woman to be a high-level witch.

Although the light source made the caravan's journey easier.

It also exposed their position. In the pitch-black forest nearby, pairs of ghostly green eyes could be seen. They belonged to wolves and wild beasts prowling in the area.

"Awooo!"

A resounding wolf howl echoed across the wilderness. On a distant hill, the figure of a wolf king as large as a calf emerged.

It was a wild dire wolf.

It stared deeply at the distant caravan, its gaze fixed on the large carriage. As if sensing the Mysterious Woman's attention, its powerful body trembled slightly before it let out a low, rumbling howl. Wave after wave of wolf howls rang out, and the packs hidden in the darkness nearby emerged one after another. The pairs of ghostly green eyes vanished as they followed the wolf king away in another direction. Dire wolves possessed a decent amount of intelligence, even being somewhat smarter than warhorses. There was still plenty of prey to hunt in the wilderness; there was no need to provoke this caravan.

Especially when it contained a terrifying wizard!

Fear of spellcasters had seeped into their bloodlines over countless ages. Endless painful lessons had taught these beasts never to casually provoke beings capable of casting spells.

As long as they were not enraged.

These beasts would not lightly attack enemies capable of wielding magic!