Philip 2

"Captain Mark, I'm here to fill up some water." Anglie shook his waterskin and smiled.

"There isn't much left." Mark said helplessly. "That knight came over again just now and took a barrel of clean water. He said he needed it to wash clothes."

"Wash clothes? It's raining in this weather. Couldn't he just catch the rainwater in a basin?" Anglie frowned. "Forget it. Once I fill up, I'll grab some jam and white bread too. I'm a little hungry myself."

Mark gave a bitter smile. "Young Master, there's only black bread left. The white bread was all taken by those two knights."

Anglie froze. "They took all of it?"

"Yeah." Mark nodded.

Anglie felt a little displeased. "I'll go take a look myself." He lifted the curtain and entered the carriage.

The carriage, once packed to the brim, now seemed somewhat empty. About half of the stacked brown wooden barrels were gone. Anglie walked to the waist-high water barrel on the left, lifted the lid, and found it empty. Frowning deeply, he went to the second barrel, untied the cover, and found that one empty as well.

The third, fourth, and fifth were all empty. Only the last two barrels still appeared to be half full. Anglie was already getting angry. When he had checked two days ago, only one barrel had been empty. Yet in just two days, four large barrels had been drained. That was enough water for everyone to drink for more than a week.

He hurriedly ladled water into his waterskin and replaced the barrel's lid. Then he opened the wooden barrel on the right, where the bread, jam, jerky, and other food were kept. Inside, there was nothing but black bread. A huge amount of the jerky was gone as well, with only a little left. Anglie took out a loaf of black bread and some jerky, then closed the lid with a frown. He got down from the carriage and returned directly to the first carriage.

The Baron had not returned yet. Anglie sat alone at the table and looked at the black bread in his hand. The long loaf felt like a piece of wood when squeezed—extremely hard. Its black surface was streaked with yellow lines, and it was about the size of two fists. The inside was white. Holding one end of the bread, he brought it to his mouth and bit down hard. With a faint crack, the bread made the same sound as a block of wood. Fine white crumbs scattered from the split. Anglie's expression darkened. Black bread tasted like sawdust—dry, tasteless, and utterly unappetizing. It only worsened his mood.

Splash! The sound of water being poured suddenly came from the carriage behind him.

Anglie pulled aside the window curtain and leaned out to look back.

On the Count's carriage behind them, a knight in silver armor was carrying a silver basin, preparing to return to the carriage. On the grass beside it, a puddle of milky-white soup had been spilled, with four or five half-eaten loaves of white bread tossed into it. The soft middles of those loaves had been eaten, while the rest had been thrown away. It was an outrageous waste.

Anglie's face twitched. He looked at the black bread in his hand, then at the white bread lying on the grass outside. His expression grew even uglier.

After taking several deep breaths, he lowered the curtain with a frown and quickly finished the black bread, full of suppressed anger. He then ate the jerky in a few bites and drank some water. Only then did he feel a little better.

Once he had calmed himself, Anglie leaned back against the carriage wall. Pushing aside thoughts of the Count, he began his daily habit of checking his status.

"Zero, scan my physical condition," he thought.

Scanning... Anglie Leo: Strength 2.9. Agility 4.1. Constitution 2.5. Current genetic limit reached. Status: Healthy.

Anglie's expression shifted slightly. So I've finally reached the limit... He felt somewhat dejected. In this dangerous world, such strength was utterly insignificant. At most, it gave him a little ability to protect himself.

His expression changed several times before he reached into the clothes over his chest and took out the emerald ring again.

The gemstone on the ring was dim and lusterless, covered in cracks. The characters on it had already been completely obscured by the fractures. Anglie slowly rubbed the ring's surface.

"If there's no way to improve my physical qualities, then this mysterious power may be my only chance to grow stronger." He carefully examined the emerald on the ring.

He had examined this ring hundreds of times already. But compared to the first time, the only new discovery he had made was a line of letters engraved on the metal band.

'Ramsoda University—Huinis.' That was what the letters meant.

"Ramsoda University... I wonder where it is?" Anglie murmured softly. "This Huinis was most likely the original owner of this ring. That person should have been a real wizard." He guessed.

After fiddling with the ring for a while and still finding nothing, Anglie carefully tucked it back beneath his clothes over his chest. Although the ring's energy had been exhausted, it was the only thing connected to a wizard's power. Anglie felt that he might be able to obtain more clues from it, so he still treasured it dearly.

The convoy continued onward for another two days.

With their water shortage worsening, everyone had no choice but to use gauze to filter water from puddles on the grasslands. Only after letting the bandits' horses drink the filtered water first did everyone dare to drink small amounts themselves.

The convoy stopped beside a puddle. Dark, gloomy clouds blanketed the entire sky.

A silver-armored knight stood by the puddle with his arms folded, complaining, "Why are we stopping? Hurry up and keep moving. We'll cross the border soon, and pursuers could catch up to us at any moment!"

Anglie and the Baron stood behind him, both full of anger.

If the Count and his two companions had not moved several barrels of water into their own carriage, leaving the rest of them without enough to drink, who would have wanted to stop halfway to filter water from grassland puddles? That water might even be poisonous.

"Please wait a moment. It should be done soon," the Baron said quietly, suppressing his anger.

The soldiers and women all got out of the carriages and worked together, filling the wooden barrels with water. Though the water was terribly murky and mixed with mud and grass roots, it was still better than having nothing to drink. As long as it was filtered properly, it would be much cleaner.

Count Philip rubbed his eyes as he climbed down from his carriage. Seeing everyone gathered around the puddle from afar, he immediately strode over.

"Why haven't we continued on?" he asked in a deep voice.

After the other knight explained quietly, the Count frowned. "What a bother!" he snorted. His gaze swept across the crowd, then his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Sir Kyle," he called loudly.

The Baron quickly turned around, walked over, and bowed. "Count, do you need something?"

Philip raised a brow. "I'm still short a few maids to tend to my daily needs. Have those two girls come to my carriage later. No problem, right?" He pointed at Maggie and Cillier, who were standing beside the puddle.

The Baron followed the direction of his finger, and his expression darkened. He was about to speak.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." A voice cut in from the side. Anglie approached with a smile. "Those two currently have duties to attend to. I'm afraid they cannot serve you, Count." But he knew perfectly well that tending to daily needs was merely a pretext for having Maggie and Cillier delivered to the three of them for their amusement. Having long regarded the two girls as his own, Anglie was already suppressing his fury as he spoke.

Philip studied Anglie carefully. "I remember you," he said flatly. "You were the one who shot down more than a dozen bandits that day. You're quite impressive. I admire courageous warriors like you most."

Anglie bent slightly in a bow. "Thank you for the praise, Count."

"It's getting late." The Count spoke calmly. "Send those two women over later. I'm tired, so I'll return to rest first." He turned and walked straight toward his carriage, with the two knights following closely behind him.

Anglie's expression changed. So did the Baron's.

Anglie slowly placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword. Slap! The Baron grabbed his hand. He gently shook his head. "Don't be rash." Anglie suppressed the rage in his heart and slowly relaxed his grip, letting his hand fall to his side. He forced a faint smile onto his face. "I understand, Father."

The Baron nodded and released him. "I'll handle this. I'll go speak with them. Don't be rash. It isn't worth it!" Anglie nodded and took a deep breath.

The Baron gave him several more reminders before walking directly toward the Count's carriage.

Anglie felt somewhat relieved. His father knew about his relationship with Cillier and Maggie. This matter should be handled properly. Taking another deep breath, he licked his lips and turned to look toward the puddle.

Maggie and Cillier, two lovely young girls, were diligently helping ladle water into the wooden barrels. The strong grassland wind blew their soft, shoulder-length hair, pressing their clothes tightly against their bodies and revealing their youthful, innocent curves. The anger in Anglie's heart subsided slightly.

Before long, the Baron walked over from the carriage and nodded at Anglie. "It's fine now."

"Thank you, Father." Anglie finally felt relieved.

"Don't provoke Philip. We may have to rely heavily on his connections in the future," the Baron cautioned.

"I understand." Anglie nodded. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at the Count's carriage and narrowed his eyes slightly.