Dark Shadows in the Pitch-Black Night (Thanks to MagnoliaSnow for the Alliance Leader)

The next day.

"Get moving, boys."

"Pack everything up, don't leave a single thing behind."

At the first light of dawn, shouts echoed through the merchant caravan's encampment. Several team leaders urged their members to pack up their gear and load it onto the wagons.

Originally, the caravan led by Vandhi was only supposed to stay for two days, but fearing an attack by the crimson giant wolf, they had waited until the cavalry unit returned to Three Towers Town before setting off together.

"Hurry, hurry! Lord Frien won't wait for us. If we're late, we won't be able to keep up." Vandhi walked over to supervise and urge them on.

On the other side of the village, the cavalry members had already risen and were gradually loading the wounded onto the wagons. Frien and the old village chief were conferring by the square.

"Old man Ponder, I'll be borrowing these two wagons. I'll have someone return them in a while." He hadn't brought any wagons when he arrived.

"That's fine, but when you return them, you'd best bring me ten bows and some iron trap-jaws. Linden Village is in dire need of them these days."

"What you're asking for isn't cheap," Frien shook his head.

"Even a white-wax wood longbow costs 4 silver coins each. With arrows, that's probably 5 silver. Ten would be 50 silver. Plus, the iron traps will cost about 10 silver. That's 60 silver right there."

"Go apply to Baron Holin for it. Just tell him that if something happens to Linden Village, next year's taxes will be hard to collect." The old village chief waved his hand, leaning on his wooden staff.

Baron Holin was more than strong enough to dominate Linden Village, but the old chief held great prestige locally and was an elder to the Baron—a friend of the previous Baron Holin. Unless absolutely necessary, the current Baron wouldn't want to cause a rift over such a small matter.

"Fine, I understand." Frien could only agree with a helpless sigh.

Around 7:00 in the morning, the prepared cavalry and the caravan set off together, accompanied by a small number of villagers, some heading to River Stone Town and others to Scorched Stone City.

In the procession, Sylutia and Talia sat in a carriage. Today, Sylutia wore a reddish-brown wool cloak with a hood she could pull up at any time. Beneath it was a newly sewn cotton dress, the material gifted by the merchant Vandhi—though judging by his pained expression at the time, it must have cost a fortune.

In the Regas Duchy, wool fabric wasn't expensive, costing about three times as much as linen. Cotton, however, was pricey—roughly ten times the cost of linen. This was because the Duchy had many forests and plains, making it home to numerous livestock-herding villages, so wool was abundant. Cotton, conversely, had to be imported from distant nations, keeping its price high.

Sylutia's original plain white silk dress had been packed away in a small wooden chest, as it was too precious and eye-catching.

Speaking of the small wooden chest, it held her silk dress, a short sword, a hair ribbon, and 3 silver leaf coins—all of her current worldly possessions.

An average villager in Linden Village earned about 2-3 silver coins a month, and the 3 she possessed were the payment Frien had given her for tending to the wounded.

With the jolting of wheels and the sounds of shouting and horse-driving, the group rolled out of the village, heading west along the road through the wilderness.

On the road.

Sylutia leaned against the carriage window, watching the scenery. There were vast, rolling grassy plains, but the distant mountains and forests were also clearly visible. Occasionally, flocks of birds could be seen flying over the woods, their calls drifting through the air.

The road was bumpy, and the old-fashioned carriage lacked decent suspension. Sylutia kept being shaken awake whenever she tried to sleep, eventually having to rest by leaning on the table in front of her.

Opposite her, Talia remained energetic, chatting with Sylutia about local anecdotes and occasionally pulling back the curtain to point out landmarks and the stories behind them.

"See that big rock? Isn't it out of place? Everything else around here is flat ground." Talia chirped again.

"Baron Holin's grandfather's grandfather wanted to build a castle there and had it chiseled from the mountain. But the wagon overturned halfway, and the accompanying scholar called it an omen of bad luck. So, the stone was abandoned by the roadside. Now it's a useful landmark; once you see it, you know you're not far from River Stone Town."

Sylutia looked at the stone and saw traces of charred firewood beneath it, guessing that travelers often spent the night there.

The caravan continued forward, arriving at River Stone Town around 3:00 in the afternoon.

The sound of the river grew closer. The town was surrounded by a crude three-meter-high stone wall, with vines and moss creeping over it. A few idle guards sat in a wooden shed atop the wall, their gazes occasionally sweeping over the road and the gate below.

Captain Frien and Vandhi were old acquaintances in River Stone Town. After a brief exchange of greetings, the caravan entered the town. Compared to Linden Village, the houses here were much denser, many built along the streets, giving it the appearance of a proper town.

Arriving at the inn where they would stay, the group dismounted to rest for the night. It was still early, but there were no places to stay once they passed River Stone Town.

"Let's get down, too." Sylutia pulled up her hood to hide her striking silver hair, then stepped out with Talia.

The wagons were parked in the inn's backyard. The caravan members were busy, some unharnessing horses, others pulling cargo wagons to the market to do a little business before dark, while some prepared to eat and rest.

The cavalry unit stayed at the inn. Frien took out a pouch of money and had the innkeeper prepare food. Seeing Sylutia walk in, he beckoned for the two girls to come over.

"How was the road, Tia?"

"It was alright; the scenery along the way was quite refreshing." Sylutia nodded.

Seeing she was in good spirits, Frien nodded slightly. The child was much better than those delicate noble ladies; he remembered the first time he accompanied the second young lady, Sindhu, on a long trip—she had complained the entire way, giving him a headache.

"Get some good rest tonight." He was a man of few words; after giving his instructions, he told Sylutia to head to her room, promising that someone would bring food later.

Sylutia agreed, but she wasn't in a hurry to sleep. Instead, she walked around the town with Talia.

River Stone Town had a population of about two thousand. The main road was paved with stone bricks, and there were brick houses along the streets. Many nearby villagers could be seen coming to town to trade. After walking less than a hundred meters, they reached the town market, which was enclosed by a simple fence and filled with makeshift wooden sheds and stalls. Two local patrolmen sat lazily at the entrance.

It was nearly evening, and the market was much thinner. Sylutia walked with a light step, browsing the various goods.

Talia walked behind her; she was quite familiar with the place and felt no curiosity, instead wondering where she could find something good to eat that night.

Food in the village was simple. Only Aunt Moti knew how to make bread and pies; everyone else usually ate wheat porridge and vegetable soup. Meat was scarce, spices were rare, and the flavors were exceptionally monotonous.

Following Sylutia to Scorched Stone City was likely the only chance she'd have in half a year to taste something different.

Sylutia's eyes wandered curiously over the goods on display: vegetables brought by nearby villagers, including common staples like "White Wind Root," "Purple Turnip," and "Black Gravel Wheat," as well as local fruits like "Ousang Fruit" and "Grape-Nut Fruit." The Ousang Fruit resembled an apple from her previous life, but it was yellowish, irregularly shaped, and covered in small spots. The Grape-Nut Fruit was like a grape, but the seeds were so large that the fruit flesh was just a thin layer on the surface.

There were also vendors selling honey, beeswax, hemp rope, straw sandals, woven baskets, jam, smoked sausage, animal furs, and tree resin.

"The copper coins you use seem to be different," Sylutia noted, observing that the copper coins in many people's hands varied in size and shape.

"Yes, the style of the copper coins is very casual. Many people don't even want to accept them," Talia said, finally snapping out of her thoughts to explain to Sylutia.

"Because nobles can mint copper coins themselves, some cut corners, others use crude craftsmanship, and the shapes aren't even uniform. We just call them 'rotten copper coins'."

"What about silver coins?" Sylutia was curious now.

"Only high-ranking nobles are qualified to mint silver coins, and they monitor each other because taxes are basically paid in silver or gold coins."

"Gold coins?"

"Only the King can mint gold coins. One side is stamped with their family crest, which represents their reputation and credibility. Even the Duke, the highest authority in our Regas Duchy, isn't qualified to mint gold coins. The gold coins currently in circulation all come from the Winter Kingdom far away."

"It's said that making gold coins is very troublesome; it requires alchemists and craftsmen to work together, engraving marks inside the coins to prevent forgery."

"My sister mentioned there are even more precious, special gold coins, but I've forgotten what they are exactly."

After the two strolled around the market, they bought a few Ousang Fruits and a small bag of Grape-Nut Fruits, then headed back to the inn.

As their figures disappeared at the end of the street and entered the inn, a short youth carefully emerged from the corner of a wall. He stared at the location of the inn for a long time before leaving.

Woolen cloak, cotton hem, delicate wrists... is she a noble?

Night.

After Sylutia and Talia finished dinner, they sat in the room with the washed fruit they had bought earlier placed on a wooden tray before them.

"Phew, the bean stew tonight was really delicious." Talia lay on the bed, still rubbing her stomach, clearly unsatisfied.

Sylutia sat by the table, flipping through yellowed, tattered notices they had found in the inn's lobby upon returning; they were all long outdated.

"Bounty notice: hunting thieves," "Hunting Gale Vultures," "Acquiring high-quality timber," "Searching for bright, warm flowers on the cliffs"...

Below the notices were brief descriptions of the situations and requirements.

Seeing Sylutia not responding to her, Talia climbed off the bed to look, then walked over.

"These? They're usually copied from the guild in Scorched Stone City and posted in nearby towns or villages to see if there's any harvest. Aha~" She yawned; it seemed she started getting sleepy after being full.

"If they are completed, can one get the bounty?" Sylutia asked with interest.

"Yes, but most people can't do what's on the notices." She propped her hands behind her and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling.

That made sense; if they were truly simple, there would be no need to offer a bounty.

"Thieves and such appear every year, and Gale Vultures appear in the years leading up to the Rising Wind Season; they're even more dangerous than Ti Wolves."

"As for the timber, I guess some noble or merchant wants to make furniture." As she spoke, she grew drowsy again.

"Bright flowers... bright..." By now, she had already climbed onto the bed and leaned against the pillow.

Seeing she was about to fall asleep, Sylutia found it somewhat amusing. She didn't ask further, instead helping Talia cover herself with a thin blanket.

After Talia fell asleep, the room grew quiet. By candlelight, Sylutia flipped through the old, outdated notices a few more times, then stood up to close the window support, preparing for bed.

The night grew deeper, the chirping of insects in the grass became more active, and occasionally the cries of strange bats cut through the night sky, drowned out by the sound of the town's flowing water.

In the dead of night, a sneaky figure carefully crept into the inn's backyard. He first observed the position from the corner of the wall before taking action.

The moonlight was dim tonight, and the sky was dark. He wore dark-colored clothes that shrouded his entire body; if he stood still in the shadows, he would be completely invisible.

In such a rural town, candles were valuable items, and no one would burn them all night. The streets were exceptionally dark; without a torch, one probably couldn't even see the ground beneath their feet.

Familiar with the environment, the figure moved through the darkness at a brisk pace. He climbed over the wall, used the haystack in the backyard to scale up to a sloped corner of the inn's second floor, and then steadied his breathing. With hands slightly spread, he moved through the corridor as quietly as possible.

He knew the inn's structure and room layout by heart. He couldn't be bothered to break into the rooms of travelers with no money, but this time, his target was the "big fish" he had spotted during the day.

Looking so delicate, with a cotton dress showing under her cloak and an attendant following her—she had to be a noble. If he could steal that cotton dress, his living expenses for the second half of the year would be covered. If he could also get other jewelry, he wouldn't have to work for years.

The risk was high, but the reward was absolutely worth it.

Tiptoeing to the target's door, the figure paused to observe the surroundings before taking out a thin iron rod and carefully inserting it into the keyhole. The slight sound of the spring mechanism turning was barely audible in the night.

Finally, after a tense moment of picking the lock, a soft click sounded as the lock gave way. He pushed the door open bit by bit at an extremely slow speed, minimizing any possible noise.

This was the most nerve-wracking moment. If everything went smoothly, he should see two sleeping figures.

In the dim environment, his gaze swept across the room and he found people lying on both beds. He let out a sigh of relief, a surge of joy rising in his heart; it seemed he had it in the bag today.

Adjusting his breathing and footsteps once more, he bent down and slowly walked into the room, searching for valuables and feeling around carefully.

Unfortunately, after scanning the entire room, a sense of disappointment rose within him. There wasn't much luggage here; there was only one chest.

Wasn't it said that nobles brought a lot of things when traveling? Especially noblewomen, who always brought plenty of clothes and jewelry, as they cared deeply about their appearance.

What kind of noble has no money? Could they be fake? His mood soured, and the patience he had built up began to dissipate.

After searching a circle and finding nothing of value, he finally set his eyes on the small wooden chest placed at the head of the bed. A reddish-brown cloak was still folded on top of it.

The coat was decent, which slightly improved his bad mood. He moved bit by bit toward the space between the two beds.

The short-haired girl sleeping soundly on the right made soft snoring sounds, occasionally smacking her lips. The figure on the left was very quiet, with almost no audible breathing.

As his fingers touched the woolen cloak, the moment the texture of the fabric met his skin, a shockwave slammed directly into his lower back, kicking him into the bed frame on the opposite side. The pain of the impact made him groan.

The massive shaking and impact startled Talia awake. She climbed up in a daze, then saw the strange black shadow in the room and screamed in shock.

"Ah--ya ya ya ya--"

First came a single shriek, followed by a continuous stream of screams; by the end, the panic in the voice had vanished, replaced by a strange sense of excitement.

Faced with this piercing sound, the dark figure panicked. He had no time to grab his loot and prepared to smash through the window to leap out and escape.

Unfortunately, before he could act, a cloak was thrown over him, covering his face. The items he had originally intended to steal now seemed like such an eyesore.

He frantically tore off the cloak and scrambled onto the table without pausing, ready to flee, but a cold sensation pressed against his neck, bringing him to his senses in an instant.

A weapon. A sword, he quickly deduced, and froze in his tracks.

Stealing would at most result in a lashing, but if he died here, everything would be over. As a repeat offender, he knew the difference all too well.

"Don't, please..." he stammered, begging for mercy as he retreated bit by bit, moving away from the window.

Only then did he see who had attacked him. During the day, with her hood up and from such a distance, he had only known she was likely a woman.

Now, in the dim room, that snow-white hair was striking, as were those eyes that remained vivid even in the dark of night. The young girl held a sword in one hand, forcing him to back away slowly.

So it's just a little girl... His eyelids drooped, and then his figure suddenly lunged backward, narrowly avoiding the swinging blade.

Such speed—is this a breathing technique?

Sylutia stared intently at the dark figure before her, a strange luster swirling in her eyes.

She pursued him, her blade thrusting straight at the shadow. This time, she held nothing back; she had restrained her strength and speed significantly before, fearing she might kill him outright.

Strangely, Sylutia's thrust did not strike her opponent as intended; it felt as if she had stabbed into thin air. This discrepancy in feedback left her surprised for the second time.

After these days of practice, she was certain of the precision of her swordsmanship. She might lack the raw power of a sturdy adult, but in terms of accuracy, speed, and technique, she surpassed many.

Yet, the man had dodged in such a bizarre fashion. By now, six seconds had passed since Talia's scream; others in the inn had heard it, and some were already rising to investigate or stepping out into the hall.

Even if Captain Frien rushed over, it would take at least another 15 seconds, the man calculated inwardly. He quickly dodged to the corner on the other side of the room and drew a short blade from his waist.

15 seconds. That's enough to deal with a little girl like this.

The dark figure charged at the silver-haired girl once more, the short blade in his hand nearly invisible in the dim environment.

"Clang—" A crisp sound of metal striking metal rang out in the darkness.

Indeed, an ordinary person would never have seen it in such conditions, but this silver-haired girl was no ordinary person.

Possessing the [Identification Pupil], she could clearly see that cold glint of metal even in the dark. Over the next ten seconds, the two clashed several times, the crisp sound of blades meeting ringing out with particular clarity in the night.

Boisterous footsteps and shouts echoed from downstairs and the corridor. These circumstances made the dark figure increasingly anxious; his movements became reckless, and a fierce, murderous glint erupted in his eyes.

I didn't want it to come to this, he thought with deep resentment. He twisted his feet, forcing his blood to circulate faster to grant his muscles greater strength, and burst forward toward the silver-haired girl with astonishing speed once again.

Facing the sudden onslaught, the girl's eyes remained calm, as if she had long since entered a state of deep focus. She spun her body, her short sword tracing a beautiful, perfect arc through the darkness like a crescent moon, slashing against the incoming short blade.

Sparks and iron shards flew into the night. The dark figure felt a numbness in his palm as his short blade was knocked from his grip. At that moment, the sharp sword struck again, piercing straight through his shoulder bone. The coldness of the iron blade entering his flesh filled him with overwhelming terror.

"No, no, I beg you." He knelt on the floor, pressing both hands to the ground, begging frantically.

This time, Sylutia did not let him off easily. She pulled the sword out and pressed it against his neck again, but this time with the tip, which was still stained with blood.

Viscous droplets of blood trickled down his neck and onto his chest. This strange sensation made him acutely aware that his life was hanging by a thread, ready to snap at any moment.

He was truly terrified now and no longer attempted to resist.