"Haha, look, he's actually unhappy!"
These bandits relied on their numbers and did not take Romon, a refined young man who looked incredibly frail, seriously at all.
They were all wandering hooligans and ruffians by origin, with no understanding of information about professional classes.
Even though Romon was wearing a Druid robe at the moment, in their eyes, it was merely a piece of aristocratic-style clothing.
Of course, these people's true identities were not as simple as ordinary bandits. Judging by their sturdy physiques, they were absolutely not comparable to common folk. Yet now that they had put on commoners' clothes, they were merely a group of ordinary bandits.
Romon's face darkened. In their eyes, he was like a little lamb preparing to bare its teeth at a great tiger, and they found it immensely amusing.
"All right, it'll be troublesome if other patrolling soldiers come by. Hurry up and make him hand over his money... no, just tie him up directly. We've been soldiers for so many years and never got any real profit. If this job turns out big, why not take the money and run? Why go back to any countdom? What do you say?" said the leader among them.
"You're right. Rather than following others and serving as slaves to noble lords, we might as well run somewhere no one knows us, seize a village, and enjoy ourselves properly." The bandits laughed and talked as they prepared to make their move.
"Ah! Look!" At that moment, one of the bandits finally noticed something wrong. Pointing at the little lamb ahead, he suddenly let out a terrified cry.
"What are you shouting for... ah!" the others said with laughter. But when their eyes fell on Romon again, the scene abruptly fell silent.
The little lamb they had