The Sunken Ship in the River Valley

Under the blazing sun, the Norman River Valley's rushing waters surged downstream like a fleeing herd of beasts, straight ahead without ever looking back.

"Father Kariel, do you think... someone will really come to raid our provisions?"

By the riverbank, a force of roughly a thousand men lingered. At a glance, there were soldiers, knights, and figures who looked like priests. Several large ships were moored along the shore, and soldiers bustled about, carefully carrying grain aboard.

A commander-like figure on horseback gazed at the ceaseless flow of the river and suddenly asked that question.

"Of course they will. Someone has their eye on this convoy," said the mounted priest beside him coldly. "Those scouts we encountered along the way are the best proof."

"Then... will there be many people coming to seize the grain?"

"Probably not many. There may even be only one," the priest replied. "I don't want to say his name, so don't ask. Just pretend nothing is happening and keep moving."

Yet upon hearing this, the commander seemed to think of something, and an uncertain, alarmed look appeared on his face.

"W-What? It couldn't be that... that foreign..."

Father Kariel looked somewhat impatient, but under the man's repeated questioning, he finally nodded. At once, the commander's entire face fell.

"Father Kariel, wh-what should we do? There should be other arrangements from above, right? Otherwise... otherwise, none of us may leave here alive today."

Father Kariel shook his head and let out a cold snort. "You don't need to know that much. Just have your soldiers keep moving."

But the commander still looked ashen. After hesitating for a moment, he finally steeled himself and asked, "Then... for God's sake, could you tell me whether this grain convoy was made bait from the very beginning?"

Father Kariel turned