Aftereffects 2

More than two months later...

Somewhere on the Anse Grasslands.

Across the vast, boundless grasslands, a caravan of only three carriages moved slowly forward. The carriages were black, their sides bearing a crest of an eagle spreading its wings as if about to take flight, encircled by thorns. It was noon, yet great swathes of gray-white clouds filled the sky, with not a trace of sunlight to be seen. The fierce wind rustled the grass across the plains. The carriages pushed against the wind with difficulty.

Anglie sat inside the first carriage, turned sideways as he gazed over the endless green grasslands. A thoughtful expression rested on his face.

Over the past few days, he had also begun gradually strengthening his physique by collecting plants and insects. However, although his physical abilities were steadily improving, the severe injuries he had suffered last time had left behind troublesome aftereffects.

Whenever Anglie practiced swordsmanship, he found that his hands and feet had become abnormally prone to sprains. After an examination by an apothecary, he had been diagnosed with osteoporosis. That was likely the result of radiation energy massively invading his body. Fortunately, Anglie was now using the plants and insects he had found to strengthen his body again. Still, it would take at least another month before he fully recovered.

He wore black hunting clothes and sat right by the carriage window. Yet his ears were carefully distinguishing every sound around him. With the chip's assistance, he could pick out extremely faint sounds from amid a jumble of noise, allowing him to detect the movements of bandits or thieves. Several times, the caravan had only managed to avoid ambushes by large groups of bandits in advance because of Anglie's warnings.

Over these two months, the caravan had also been pursued several times by small bands of bandits, but the Baron had driven them back each time. Larger groups of bandits could likewise be avoided through Anglie's sharp senses.

After five or six fierce battles, one of the Baron's sons—one of Anglie's brothers—had unfortunately been struck in the neck by a stray arrow and died on the spot. That had been their most perilous encounter. Their opponents had been mounted bandits in the midst of surrounding and slaughtering another noble caravan. They came and went like the wind, moving with incredible speed, and there had even been mounted archers among them.

Anglie had been struck by an arrow as well. They had watched with their own eyes as four or five knights among the surrounded nobles charged forward for several dozen meters, only to be killed by a barrage of arrows, with time for nothing but screams. If the guards among those trapped nobles had not erupted in a final desperate struggle and drawn away the mounted bandits pursuing them, Anglie's group would likely have suffered many deaths—or perhaps been completely wiped out.

Along the way, the caravan had passed several wrecked caravans littered with corpses. They had clearly all been through brutal battles. Among the remains at one site, one corpse had even belonged to a great knight the Baron had once met in the capital. That had left the entire caravan on edge for more than ten days before they slowly recovered.

After so many battles, Anglie had finally gained a clear understanding of where his current strength stood in this world.

In the battle where he had killed the most, Anglie had slain twenty-eight mounted bandits alone. Combining archery with close combat, his results had been astonishing. But against mounted archers, he had been helpless. Anglie had paid the price of taking an arrow in his right arm to shoot down fifteen men, after which he could no longer continue. All sixty arrows from three quivers had been fired. Those mounted bandits were incredibly fast and highly skilled at dodging arrows from horseback. If not for the chip's assistance with his archery, there was no way he could have killed so many by himself.

In the following battles, they had once encountered mounted bandits who were actually soldiers in disguise. A knight-level expert leading them had shot arrows from afar, killing seven or eight soldiers in the caravan. Only through the combined efforts of the Baron and Anglie, trading injury for injury, had they managed to shoot down that leader.

"The knights of this world are like the great generals of ancient China. They're powerful fighters, and with good armor and weapons, one can take on a hundred. Without good weapons, though, their combat strength drops drastically. And they're equally afraid of large-scale ranged weapons." Anglie had formed a clear understanding of the knight level.

"They're just martial arts experts who practice hard-body techniques." That was his final conclusion. I should rank around second-rate among them, Anglie pondered. In a large-scale war like this, his strength was completely insignificant.

Coming back to himself, Anglie silently said, "Scan my current physical condition."

Scanning... Scan complete. Anglie Leo: Strength 2.7. Agility 3.0. Constitution 1.2

"These aftereffects are truly troublesome..." Anglie murmured softly. "All three major attributes have fallen by a large margin. After recovering for so long, this is all I've managed."

The carriages traveled for about half an hour. Anglie's expression suddenly changed as he tilted his head and listened carefully. A moment later, he abruptly straightened up and shouted, "There's fighting ahead. Stop the carriages!"

The Baron looked over. "Mounted bandits?"

"Most likely, but it seems to be only a small group," Anglie said with a nod.

The Baron frowned. "I'll go take a look." He quickly put on the silver chainmail set beside him, picked up his black greatsword, lifted the carriage curtain, and jumped down. The carriages gradually came to a halt.

Before long, the Baron shouted from outside, "Anglie, some Rudin Kingdom nobles are surrounded up ahead. We should take a detour."

Anglie was about to answer when his face darkened. He seemed to have heard something. "Too late. Some of the mounted bandits are coming for us. The carriages can't outrun horses. Prepare to fight where we stand!" He quickly put on leather armor, slung his bow and arrows over his back, then took up his silver cross sword and stepped out of the carriage.

Straight ahead of the caravan, amid the endless green grass, was a cluster of tiny black dots—the battlefield Anglie had heard.

"Woo woo~~~~" A group of mounted bandits waved bright white sabers and charged toward them with strange cries.

"Fight! Prepare for battle!" Captain Mark shouted, drawing the longsword at his waist.

With the clang of steel, every soldier drew their longswords and curved blades, standing ready.

Anglie focused and raised his longbow. The quiver no longer held white-feathered arrows, but ordinary wooden arrows picked up when they passed battlefield wreckage. His original white-feathered arrows had long since been used up. Wooden arrows did not have much killing power, but they made up for it in sheer numbers. Over several trips, they had picked up four or five quivers. Now, all the soldiers' quivers had been given to Anglie to maximize their ranged killing power. After all, his archery was the strongest.

He drew a wooden arrow, nocked it with a creak, and took aim.

Wearing full chainmail, the Baron deliberately—or perhaps unconsciously—stood in front of Anglie, ready to use his own body to block any ranged attack aimed at his son.

Thwack! A mounted bandit fell in response. Anglie did not stop. Arrow after arrow flew from his bow. More than ten mounted bandits who had charged over were killed on the road before they could even approach the caravan. The remaining two hurriedly turned and fled.

The Baron looked toward the surrounded nobles in the distance. The silver rose crest on their carriage caught his attention. "That's a silver crest, representing the upper nobility of Rudin Kingdom. At the very least, they're counts. A rose crest... they're a branch of the royal bloodline. If we save them, we might receive some help in Maluya."

"What kind of help?" Anglie said disdainfully. "They're only a branch of the royal bloodline. I've heard that the Rudin Kingdom royal family has four main branches, each with more than a dozen smaller branches beneath it. Who knows which backwater corner of the royal family they come from?"

"Even so, a silver-level crest is worth taking a chance on," the Baron said solemnly. "The royal family has always had a good relationship with the Andes Alliance. These people should be heading to seek refuge with some high-ranking relatives in the Andes Alliance. Many high-ranking Rudin nobles have marriage ties with Andes nobles. These few mounted bandits are probably just a detachment from some larger force. They must have strayed from the main group and come ahead to pursue them."

Anglie frowned. "Since you say so, then let's wipe out these mounted bandits. We can replace everyone's weapons and equipment while we're at it. Our weapons have gotten somewhat damaged lately, and we're out of maintenance oil."

The caravan quickly drew closer. Anglie and the others could finally see the condition of the surrounded nobles clearly.

Beside a small black carriage with silver trim, two heavy-sword knights in silver-white plate armor were doing their utmost to protect a handsome young man behind them. Both knights actually possessed knight-level strength, but their swordsmanship looked overly flashy and ornate. Its practical effectiveness was poor. Their faces were covered in sweat, and it appeared they could not hold out much longer. The protected young man's face was filled with terror, though his clothing and accessories were extremely luxurious. One glance was enough to tell he was the child of a great noble who had never lacked for food or clothing.

More than twenty mounted bandits formed a circle around them, divided into two groups that charged in one after another. Seven or eight bandit corpses lay sprawled across the ground. They must have been the two knights' work.

Anglie frowned and directly drew a wooden arrow. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Three consecutive arrows nailed three mounted bandits charging at the front. Captain Mark and the Baron led their men forward with loud shouts, dragging four or five mounted bandits down from the outer edge and hacking them to death in a flurry of blades.

The besieging mounted bandits immediately fell into chaos. They had apparently not expected their opponents to be so fierce. A knight-level leader at the front roared and fiercely exchanged a blow with the Baron. Anglie seized the opportunity and shot an arrow at him, which narrowly embedded itself in his right chest. The bandit leader panicked and turned to flee.

The Baron let out a low roar and viciously hurled his greatsword. Slash! It chopped off the bandit leader's head, sending it flying far away before it landed upside down in the grass.

The remaining mounted bandits immediately scattered in all directions, fleeing for their lives.