Beggar

In a near-fatal battle, a Holy Name regarding healing descended upon Lucius, whose throat had been cut, pulling him back from the brink of hell.

This legendary experience inspired countless adventurers, and of course, Lucius himself. In a way, it was also the source of his "war fanaticism."

When Lucius finished his speech, everyone felt a sense that war was drawing closer.

In the following days, Gagnor also seized the time to familiarize himself with his weapons and equipment, mainly his chainmail.

He used to wear leather armor, but now that his constitution and strength had greatly improved, he could adapt to wearing chainmail.

In fact, Gagnor had also considered plate armor, but wearing plate armor not only required higher physical fitness but was also a skill that required more adaptation time to move freely.

After considering some other factors, such as price, he finally chose chainmail.

A few days passed, and a portion of the Gray Hawk Mercenary Group's soldiers had already set off for the County of Presto to the northwest.

The first group to depart were mainly the official members of the mercenary group, who rode on horseback and were estimated to arrive at Presto Fortress in about two days.

After some time, the second group of soldiers also set off. This group was the largest, mainly composed of short-term recruits who had just completed basic training, and they traveled on foot.

The commander was Cassandra—who couldn't ride a horse to save her life.

Actually, some higher-level magic warhorses could bear her size, but South Sea Town and the surrounding areas didn't have such horses, and she didn't seem to like riding anyway.

Gagnor and many of his acquaintances were in this group of soldiers, including the enchanter Marcus.

Logically speaking, an enchanter who specialized in Magic Runes could just stay in the camp, but the higher-ups decided to bring one along just in case, so Marcus was lucky enough to be selected.

This made Marcus very miserable because he had just learned about the Joy Street's discounted promotions and hadn't had time to go before being urgently pulled into the army.

There was no need to wait until after the war. When the two groups of soldiers left South Sea Town one after another, especially the second group containing a large number of former Raven Street loafers, the Joy Street's business experienced a significant decline.

Gagnor comforted him, "Presto must have places to have fun too."

Marcus said, "With so many soldiers going to Presto, the women there must be extremely expensive!"

"But you also have military subsidies, don't you?"

"Not only expensive, but there might also be a queue. I don't like that..." Marcus was indeed depressed, but since things had come to this, he could only accept it. Once the troops left South Sea Town, he no longer mentioned it.

Presto was a small country with a relatively long and narrow territory, bordering several countries at the same time. The closest point was only a few dozen kilometers from South Sea Town, but the fortress was a bit further away.

When crossing the border from the Duchy of Nordanlun into the County of Presto, the mercenaries couldn't help but become more vigilant.

"Gagnor, let me protect your safety," John said, holding a shield.

"Does he look like he needs your protection? If he had a shield, he could protect you," Ryan said. He was now the captain of Gagnor's squad.

John looked at Gagnor again.

A year ago, the other party was a thin apothecary in a robe—at least in his eyes. But now, the two were clearly about the same size, both looking like strong men, and Gagnor was even a bit taller.

Gagnor was no longer wearing an apothecary's robe but well-made chainmail. He certainly didn't look like he needed protection.

"For the sake of the group, give your 'vigilance' to the priest," Ryan pointed to the priest in the team, a thin, tall, blond young man.

Spellcasters were few in number in the mercenary group, and priests were even rarer. It wasn't easy to have a priest assigned to a team. In fact, priests were usually rotated among several teams.

"Okay," John nodded, then followed beside the priest, "By the way, what's your name?"

"Sheldon, a first-level priest," the priest's voice was a bit soft, and he seemed to be a refined person.

John patted his chest, "Vigilance is a power bestowed upon me by Holy Name Michael. When someone attacks you, I will definitely notice it immediately. Don't worry, Priest Sheldon, as long as I'm here, you definitely won't get hurt!"

"Thank you," the priest said gratefully.

Several hundred people continued to advance northwest.

On the way, they encountered a group of refugees. They seemed to have come from around Presto Fortress and were looking for a place to hide from the war.

Most of these civilians were craftsmen, merchants, and the like, with a few farmers.

There was also a beggar.

The beggar was a barefoot, gaunt old man. He wore a dirty, tattered ochre linen robe, with disheveled hair and a sparse beard on his chin.

He went to some of the mercenaries one by one, not saying a word, but holding a broken bowl in one hand and drawing a triangle on his chest with the other, making his begging intentions very clear.

Unfortunately, mercenaries usually didn't have the habit of being charitable. Moreover, most of these mercenaries were former Raven Street loafers, who had neither spare money nor the leisure to give alms. It was good enough if they didn't speak ill of him.

The beggar seemed to notice the triangular pendant necklace on Gagnor's chest and deliberately lingered in front of him for a few seconds, but only received a few copper coins from Priest Sheldon and John.

Even though there were few respondents, the beggar continued to change targets.

It wasn't until Cassandra, probably to maintain the mercenary group's reputation, threw a silver coin into the beggar's bowl that he was successfully sent away.

After a while, someone noticed that this beggar wasn't with the refugees at all. The refugees were heading away from Presto Fortress, while he seemed to be heading towards Presto Fortress, and he was walking briskly, disappearing from everyone's sight in a short while.

Although it was a bit strange, no one took this beggar to heart.

Three days later.

A forest came into view in the distance.

Ryan first ran to Cassandra and said a few words, then returned to the team, "Be careful on the road in the forest ahead. I've been attacked here twice."

"Twice?" Gagnor seemed to think of something.

Ryan smiled, "That's right, the first time was the time you saved me."

Gagnor nodded in realization. "Was that time you went to Presto to deliver a letter as well?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me what kind of letter it was?"

"No."

Though he said that, at a later moment when no one was paying attention, Ryan still quietly sidled up to Gagnor and whispered in his ear, "A love letter."

Gagnor's eyes widened in surprise.

But Ryan clearly had no intention of explaining further, and instead made a gesture to be silent.

Gagnor didn't press the issue, but he couldn't help but let his imagination run wild.

A love letter... who wrote it to whom?