Philip 1

After the bandits had all fled, the three people they had rescued hurriedly came forward on their own. Before one of the knights had even approached, he shouted, "This is the carriage of Count Philip, son of Marquis Syrius of Rudin Kingdom!"

The young man following behind hurriedly straightened his disheveled clothes, seemingly extremely concerned about his appearance.

The baron's expression turned solemn. He quickly stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Count Philip, Baron Kyle Leo of the Southern Borderlands welcomes your arrival." Anglie also smiled and bowed with him in respect.

The other soldiers began whispering among themselves as soon as they heard that he was a count. Seeing the two leaders bow, they finally offered uneven greetings as well. Some knelt on one knee, some merely bent at the waist, and some awkwardly drew their swords in salute.

Hearing the commotion behind him, the baron could not help feeling speechless. Anglie did not know whether to laugh or cry either.

"When danger was at hand, Lord Kyle Leo appeared to save us. I will remember this favor." Philip, the young man in splendid clothes, paid no heed to the soldiers' actions and strode forward as he spoke loudly. His voice was clear and bright, much like those pretty-boy pop singers from Anglie's previous life on Earth. It was highly magnetic.

The baron straightened up, his expression sincere. "My lord, the journey is long and tiring. May I ask which direction you are heading?"

Count Philip exchanged glances with his two knight guards. After a brief hesitation, he said, "We are planning to go to Maruya Port. The governor there is my father's sworn brother. With the war breaking out this time, we intend to seek refuge with him." Philip smiled. There was a faint sense of distance in his tone, yet it did not seem unfriendly. Having learned that Kyle Leo was merely a baron, and seeing how respectful he was, Philip assumed that the man must need something from him. The arrogance of his higher status naturally showed through.

"Then does my lord have anywhere to go at the moment? If not, why not join my caravan and travel to Maruya Port with us?" The baron was delighted inside, but his expression remained calm.

Philip had already been considering the same thing, and an interested look appeared on his face.

One of the young knights whispered a few words into his ear. Philip immediately nodded slightly. "Very well. I had originally intended to return to my father's caravan, but since Lord Baron has extended such a warm invitation, I shall join your caravan."

What an idiot! Anglie was speechless. If you could return to your father's caravan, who would want to join a minor noble's caravan with unclear intentions? He can't even come up with a decent excuse. It's obvious that Philip was separated from his father's caravan. They were probably scattered after being attacked by a large band of mounted bandits. Anglie's gaze fell on the two flamboyant knights. Just two male peacocks. That was his direct assessment.

The baron accompanied Philip and the other two back to the caravan, while everyone in the carriages came down to pay their respects. Philip did not say much, merely nodding casually.

Anglie frowned slightly. He watched the baron and the three men discuss people and events from Rudin Kingdom's past. As they talked, their connection grew increasingly familiar. Before long, they had found common ground through several nobles they all knew. Philip's carriage then moved closer to the caravan and joined the line.

Anglie stood to one side with Captain Mark. By rank and title, he was not qualified to join such a conversation. He could only listen from the side. After chatting for a while, Philip gave a slight yawn. "Lord Kyle, I am a little tired. I will return to rest first."

"Of course. With us guarding nearby, please rest without worry, my lord." The baron smiled.

Philip nodded faintly. Accompanied by one knight, he returned to his own carriage. The other knight quietly said a few words to the baron.

"I understand. Please wait a moment." The baron nodded. The knight also walked back toward the carriage with satisfaction.

Anglie, standing nearby, had heard everything clearly. The man had been asking whether they had sufficient water and food.

Only after the three had left did he speak. "Father, although we only recently replenished our water supply, it is only enough for us to use for around a month, and that is if we conserve it. We do not have much food left either..."

The baron raised a hand to stop him. "We saved Count Philip this time. Once we reach Maruya Port, the benefits we can gain will far outweigh this little hardship. Everyone can conserve a little more and do our best to supply them with enough water and food. Our future days will be easier because of it."

Anglie frowned. "Who knows whether what they said is true?"

"I have heard of his title before. They say he is one of Marquis Syrius's favorite sons. The fact that he has two mid-level knight guards at his side shows how highly he is valued," the baron explained.

"Those two do not seem to possess knight-level strength..." Anglie said doubtfully.

The baron smiled. "What they use is the so-called court swordsmanship. Its main purpose is for display, and most of the time it is performed for high-ranking nobles. It looks good on the surface, but after years of decline, its practical combat ability is already pathetic. As for their knight-level strength, it was probably piled up through all kinds of precious resources. Those two knights likely have unusual backgrounds as well."

"Is that so?" Anglie fell into thought.

The baron patted Anglie on the shoulder. "Everyone, be a little more accommodating toward those three. Thanks to those bandits, we can keep changing horses, and our traveling speed has increased greatly. We should reach the border and enter Andes territory in another two months. We will not have to endure it for long."

Anglie nodded and said nothing more.

Two guards carried food and waterskins to the count's carriage and handed them up.

Other soldiers gathered the bandits' horses whose owners had died, intending to use them as spare mounts.

Anglie walked over to the bandit he had shot and inspected the wooden arrows. Most had broken and could no longer be used. Nor did any of the bandits carry bows or arrows. Frowning deeply, he rose to his feet with a cracked brown wooden arrow in hand. With a light exertion of force, the arrow snapped in two with a crack.

"What a nuisance." A trace of helplessness appeared on Anglie's face. "I'm running out of wooden arrows too."

Three days later... somewhere in the middle of the Anse Grasslands.

Fine gray rain slanted through the air in gusts with the wind.

Across the endless green grasslands, a small caravan slowly moved forward. Four black carriages traveled in a line. The second carriage in the middle was far more ornate than the others.

Inside the first carriage, a brown-haired youth with a calm expression carefully chewed something. He held a cluster of purplish-red wild raspberries in his hand. The youth was not particularly handsome, but his calm, steady eyes gave people an exceptionally dependable impression. He wore clean, neat black hunting clothes. This was Anglie, who had been diligently recovering his body over the past few days.

He plucked a purplish-red raspberry and put it into his mouth. His face puckered slightly from the sourness, but he endured it. On the small table beside him sat a black waterskin, along with a large cluster of purplish-red raspberries. Anglie continued eating the raspberries one by one, occasionally turning his head to look at the grasslands outside the carriage window. More than ten minutes later, after he had finished all the raspberries in his hand and on the table, Anglie finally picked up the waterskin and took a hard gulp.

The carriage curtain was suddenly lifted from outside. A middle-aged man with long flaxen hair bent down and stepped in. He had a full beard and wore black-and-red noble clothing. It was Baron Kyle Leo. The baron frowned deeply and said in a low voice, "Anglie, we may have trouble. We do not have much food or water left now. It is only enough to last everyone half a month."

Anglie's expression darkened. "Counting carefully, having those three extra people really is troublesome. What are you planning to do, Father?"

"If it truly comes to it, we will kill the horses." The baron sounded helpless. "We captured four bandit horses earlier anyway."

"That is a last resort." Anglie lowered his voice. "Horsemeat is sour and has an unpleasant smell. It is also very tough. Unless they are starving, I doubt anyone likes eating it."

The baron fell silent as well, considering whether there was another solution.

"Yesterday, I saw the count pour a whole barrel of water out of his carriage. He must have used it for bathing. A lot of the white bread and meat stew sent to them was left unfinished and simply dumped by the roadside. At this rate, no amount of water or food will be enough for them," Anglie said helplessly.

"If we do not take good care of him, this favor may turn into resentment. There is nothing we can do about it." The baron gave a bitter smile. "Those three have been pampered all their lives. Just now, they were asking me for oil to polish their weapons and armor. We are nearly out of cooking oil, yet they actually want to use it to polish their equipment!"

"Forget it. We only need to endure a little longer. Father, you should speak with them properly. Otherwise, if this continues, they will waste all the caravan's food within five days," Anglie reminded him.

"Yes, I will speak to them personally." The baron nodded as well.

The baron stood, lifted the curtain, and stepped out of the carriage. Anglie sighed too. He picked up the waterskin and shook it. Only half remained. He then stood and jumped down from the carriage, walking toward the rear.

When he climbed onto the last carriage, Captain Mark was listlessly driving the horses. Seeing Anglie approach, he forced out a smile.