An Yang dismissed the caravan master and sat silently on the flatbed cart alone. The caravan continued onward, the cart still swaying and jolting through the desert. Some nobles' family members in the carriages lifted the curtains to sneak glances at An Yang, but quickly withdrew their gazes.
The Knight escorts were all very quiet. There were far fewer of them than before, and they had lost their vigilance and restless energy.
Only when the formal Knight named Xiao slowed his horse and drew alongside did he finally speak. After hesitating for a long while, he lowered his head and said, "Respected sir, I have a question. Forgive my boldness, but could you answer it for me?"
"What is it?" An Yang had already more or less guessed.
"I want to ask—what exactly were those things?" Knight Xiao asked sorrowfully. His plate armor had been pierced by more than a dozen bullets. It was obvious the bandits had aimed at him, and some spots had been hit repeatedly. The bullets had punched through the battered armor and burrowed into his flesh. Though he could ignore injuries of this level, he still felt indignant!
"You feel that you began learning horsemanship and swordsmanship as a child, tempering your body and enduring pains and hardships beyond what ordinary people could imagine. You put in countless efforts and shed endless sweat, even bleeding many times, before finally reaching where you are today. Yet those lowly horse bandits only spent a few coins on some fire guns and were actually able to injure you, leaving you helpless. So you feel deeply unwilling to accept it, and believe those people took the wrong path?"
"It's not as if I couldn't hurt them!" Knight Xiao said, unconvinced. "If I had pursued them with all my strength,