No matter how much the people ahead quickened their pace, Renato and his three companions stayed close behind.
They could not give the other party time to set an ambush. The Phantom Forest was full of places to lie in wait, and everyone present knew it well. All four silently picked up speed as they traveled, without needing to say a word.
The light gradually dimmed, and gray-white mist replaced the sky.
Visibility was poor on the Misty Path, and its many forks made it easy to lose track of a target.
Joe drew his Hand Crossbow and said viciously:
"Why don't we strike first and kill them now?"
Bagg gripped his greataxe with both hands, breathing heavily:
"I've wanted to split that bitch open for ages. Let's do it!"
Marcus turned toward Renato, his eyes seeming to ask for his opinion.
Three months of flight and three months of adventure had forced Renato to kill many people to survive-some were unforgivably evil, while others were good people blinded by ignorance. He felt little guilt over it.
When Renato nodded his agreement, Marcus lowered his voice to a near whisper:
"Get ready."
Yet when the four crept toward their opponents' position, "Pockface" Martha and her companions had already dropped their cumbersome spoils and stood ready for battle in the mist.
Clearly, both sides had the same idea: settle things here.
Without another word, Bagg, who was closest, charged first. He swung his greataxe in a wide arc, intent on smashing the shield before him.
But his opponent was no wooden post. With practiced skill, the man angled his shield to deflect most of the force, then thrust his sword in a counterattack.
Marcus covered Bagg's flank, keeping the bald adventurer with the spiked mace from attacking Bagg's exposed side.
With no clear line of fire, Joe shot one bolt, then tossed aside his Hand Crossbow and drew his sword to join the fight.
Renato, on the far right of the group, stood atop a dirt slope.
It was the highest point nearby, and the ideal firing position.
Leaves rustled against clothing, and footsteps drew closer. Renato knew he had guessed correctly.
At the sight of Martha's freckle-covered face, Renato gave her no time to react and struck without hesitation.
But she was experienced too. Despite her surprise, she instinctively raised the crossbow's limb and parried the killing blow.
Renato's longsword met resistance and missed her throat, instead slashing across her face and leaving a bloody gash.
Martha dropped the damaged crossbow and rolled down the slope, putting distance between them in an ungainly scramble.
She drew the short sword at her waist and stood her ground, her eyes fixed on Renato.
An amateur with a sword, Renato judged. A short blade against a long one, and she backs away instead of trying to close in?
He stepped forward, bringing his longsword down from above in a plain, unadorned thrust. Martha retreated, trying to parry with her short sword.
Renato gave her no second chance. He turned his wrist, changing the blade's direction, and cut off half her hand before she could react.
The short sword fell to the ground. Martha clutched her mutilated hand as blood poured from it and screamed shrilly. Watching Renato approach step by step, her legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground:
"Stay back! Don't kill me, please! I can give you money. Yes, I have lots of money in Fried City. I can..."
The sharp sword tip pierced flesh without resistance and plunged straight into her throat, severing her windpipe and esophagus and ending her unfinished plea.
"Everyone who comes to Brekka Town to be an adventurer is dirt poor. Next time you're about to die, come up with a more convincing reason to beg for your life."
Watching the corpse twitch slightly as blood stained the nearby bushes red, Renato nodded in satisfaction:
"The leather armor isn't damaged. Good. It should sell for quite a bit more."
He looked down at the fight below the slope. It seemed they did not need his help; the battle was already drawing to a close.
Only the adventurer with the sword and shield remained, struggling against the three men surrounding him. Soon, a hooked sickle caught his calf and dragged him to the ground. The greataxe cleanly chopped off his head like an executioner's blade.
When Marcus looked up at him, Renato smiled and waved.
They dragged the bodies together and began dividing the spoils.
In Martha's purse, Renato found six silver coins and forty-odd copper coins. He also removed a silver ring from the severed half of her hand.
Besides these easily carried precious metals, there was a rather small cowhide breastplate, a pair of worn leather boots, a pair of splinted bracers, a solidly made short sword...
And a pile of carapaces, forelegs, and insect tendons.
"Young master, where's Pockface's crossbow? I'll trade you for it."
"The limb's broken. Still want it?"
"Let me see." Joe took the damaged crossbow in both hands. "What a shame. This is a good crossbow, but the most important part-the limb-is broken. Repairing it would probably cost quite a bit..."
"Cut the chatter, Little Finger. What are you offering?" Renato tried on his newly acquired splinted bracers, but unfortunately, the straps were too short to fasten.
Joe produced a shortbow. "How about this shortbow? It's made of hickory, with a heavy draw..."
"Something else. I don't use bows much, and they don't sell for much either."
"How about this mail vest? I'm telling you, I'd be taking a real loss..."
One glance told Renato exactly what kind of goods it was:
"Shoddy armor made in Brekka Town. Pig iron, too soft, with rings of uneven thickness and gaps like a torn fishing net. More importantly, it isn't made in one piece. The front and back are joined by leather straps at the shoulders."
"Even new, it's only worth five silver coins. This one's covered in rust, plenty of the rings have come apart, and it's stolen goods. I doubt anyone would pay even one silver coin. Little Finger, if you don't want to trade, just say so. There's no need to waste time..."
After some bargaining, Renato successfully traded Joe for a one-handed spiked mace.
Marcus leaned against a large tree, slicing black bread with his dagger. When the two finished their trade, he said:
"Sort through your things and throw some away. The road ahead won't be easy. Don't forget the Phantom Forest's rules."
That's right. The Phantom Forest's rules, Renato thought:
The mist held all manner of wild beasts and magical creatures. They were clever and generally would not attack large groups of adventurers unprovoked. That was why adventuring parties in Brekka Town usually waited until they had ten members before setting out.
At such times, the Misty Path was like a shy young woman, deliberately avoiding her eager adventurers and only watching quietly from a distance.
But when the adventurers' packs were full, their strength exhausted, and their numbers badly depleted, the Misty Path would begin to reveal its "wild and passionate" side.
The four dumped all their spider tendons and carapaces in the woods to lighten their loads.
Renato kept only six intact spider forelegs, bundled them securely, and carried them on his back along with the cowhide armor and his other spoils.
This lightened his load, kept it from becoming a burden, and made it easy to drop everything at a moment's notice.
The other three did the same. Reluctant though they were, they had no choice but to discard things they had risked their lives to obtain.
In the Phantom Forest, the forest itself was the master. As an adventurer, you had to obey its rules.
Before you continue