Mountain bandits

The caravan's journey along the way was still quite peaceful, but this was by no means a good sign, because no matter how one looked at it, it seemed as though someone had cleared the road ahead. It might have been other passing caravans, but he preferred to believe it was done by those wanting to deal with the Mason Family. He felt they seemed to be stepping step by step into a trap set by the enemy.

The mercenaries in the party had long since started being on guard. They were all people who had survived the Venom Spider, and whether by luck or strength, they could not be fools and had long since noticed something was wrong.

Although the caravan was extremely vigilant, the pace of their feet was not slow. Such a situation continued for several days in a row, making it seem truly like a coincidence. But Allen never relaxed, and he would not believe that opponents who had spent so much time and energy to deal with the Mason Family would give up so easily. The fiercest attacks were often at the very end.

By the third night, it could almost be considered safe. As long as they made it through this night, then tomorrow they would soon arrive at Brill. The caravan steward Kels had already promised that once they reached Brill, they would be considered to have completed the task, and there would be five times the reward.

Yet that night, no one dared to relax. Those mercenaries and adventurers who drifted across the entire continent were no fools; as long as they had not reached Brill, it did not count as safe. Of course, Allen was already certain that those hiding in the dark would definitely make a move tonight, and during the night he did not even dare to close his eyes for a moment. He had made up his mind to run away tonight; although he coveted the five-times reward offered by the Mason Family very much, one still needed one's life to spend it, and he never dared to underestimate those enemies hiding in the darkness.

If someone attacked the camp at night, they would definitely target the female mage on the carriage first, since after all that was their objective, while cannon fodder like them were mere mercenaries. As long as he was not the enemy's target, the chance of escaping should still be quite high, especially at night. He had made up his mind to flee into the woods beside the camp and hide in a tree.

He did not intend to actually escape to the outside, because the enemy would definitely make thorough preparations, and with his strength, once he fled outside he would likely be killed by enemies lying in ambush outside. The only lifeline was to hide immediately before the enemy arrived. Their caravan had many people, and missing one or two would not be noticed, plus since he was not the target, the enemy certainly would not care about him.

Although attacking the camp at night was extremely easy, it was conversely not easy for those hiding in the trees to be spotted, especially since the woods beside the camp were considered quite lush, and hiding in a tree was also considered a blind spot in people's thinking.

Midnight soon arrived. He pretended to go relieve himself. After mentioning it to Kels, he went out. Kels let him out without any warning, perhaps because Kels saw that he was so young and took him for a green, knowing-nothing adventurer. Or perhaps Kels intended to let him test whether there were really enemies nearby; in any case, it was bound to be with ill intent.

Not long after Allen went out, he arrived beneath the large tree he had discovered while sneaking out to observe the nearby terrain at dusk. He nimbly climbed up the big tree, and to avoid being discovered he climbed up several more meters, hiding beside the dense branches. He began to stay completely still, and that night was very quiet, seemingly as if nothing at all would happen.

Around midnight, seeing that Allen had not returned by the campfire for a long time, Kels knew he must have met with disaster. He immediately notified the mercenaries, telling them to be on guard.

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night, and Allen could even see the firelight inside the camp from the tree.

Yet not far from the tree where Allen was located, three people crept over. They all wore black night-walking clothes and hoods, and in this deep night their appearances could not be seen at all. But their traits were still quite obvious: the one in the middle was about one meter seven tall, followed by two people. One was extremely tall and burly, holding a sword in his hand and wearing armor on his body; even the spacious night-walking garment was stretched tight by his physique. The other was completely the opposite, growing very thin, but looking completely like someone not to be easily bullied. His figure seemed to completely blend into the surrounding darkness, looming faintly as he stood there, keeping a hunched posture the whole time as if ready to launch an attack at any moment.

"Sanglun, I think you should understand the importance of this operation. Your failure last time has already made the master very dissatisfied. The master no longer has much patience to hear your incompetent and clever sophistry," the person standing at the very front said indifferently.

The tall man lowered his head, his expression obscure but very respectful as he said to the mysterious figure in the black robe ahead, "Milord, please rest assured. This time they have no way to fly away; I have already arranged sufficient manpower, and every place has our people." The mysterious figure in front did not even look at him. "Every time you say rest assured, but when was the last time you could truly let the master rest easy? Remember, there is only one opportunity. Next time-hmph, I suppose you probably won't get to see next time, right?"

"Milord, please trust me one more time. I will definitely not disappoint you again. The master's command is everything, and I will consecrate everything to the master," the tall man said excitedly.

The mysterious person ignored him entirely, turning to look at the short man. "What I entrusted to you, has it all been done?" The short man replied insidiously, "Milord, no matter what it is, your commands will always be thoroughly implemented." "Do not be careless. No matter what, Mason is still a two-hundred-year-old ancient family. I do not wish to strike myself, understood?" Having spoken, he slowly vanished on the spot as if he had never appeared, while the tall man and the short man watched him vanish with reverence before leaving this place as well.

Time quickly passed, and it was almost morning, yet still nothing happened. Allen even began to doubt whether he had guessed wrong. Just as the sun was about to rise in the early hours of the morning, those mercenaries had not slept all night, and having been tense all night, they were extremely exhausted, seeing that it was almost morning and still there was no movement at all.

Some of the mercenaries simply could not take it anymore and fell asleep sitting on the ground. At that very moment, some people slowly approached the surroundings, and as they were about to draw close to the camp, the leader shouted, "Kill, kill, kill! Slaughter everyone completely and rob all their valuables!"

Allen, up in the tree, snapped completely awake upon hearing the voice. Looking far away, the caravan camp fell into massive chaos; various shouts and sounds of slaughter rang out. The enemy number was extremely large, and each and every one of them was dressed like mountain bandits. The leader was precisely that tall man wearing night-walking clothes from that night; the armor he wore was extremely ornate and at a glance one knew it was no ordinary piece of goods, while the sword in his hand flashed with a fiery red glow. Facing him in battle was Kels.

Kels fell into a disadvantage as soon as he began fighting him. The bandit leader wielded a greatsword, his moves open and unconstrained, swinging the sword in his hand with a roaring wind, while Kels parried and blocked left and right, clearly far inferior in strength to that bandit leader. Before long, Kels could no longer hold out. After blocking one of the bandit leader's horizontal sweeps, the bandit leader suddenly acted as though he had taken a potent drug, his speed surging several times over. Kels did not react at all before he was cleaved to death by a single sword strike from the bandit leader, and even Kels's armor was split into two halves, showing just how formidable that strength was.

While Kels battled the bandit leader, the mercenaries were almost wiped out by the numerous bandits. This time they had no female mage to save them, for the female mage was also unable to look after herself. She was fighting that short man. The short man did not possess the strength of that bandit leader, but his speed and footwork were far beyond what the former could compare to, let alone the female mage.

It was true that the female mage was formidable, able to kill a person with a single fireball. Yet against the short man, she could not hit him at all, and was instead constantly drained of her magic by the short man. Her situation could be called extremely critical; if things went on like this, within five minutes everyone in the caravan would be killed.

The female mage fought while moving, from time to time pulling out some scrolls from her hands and throwing them toward the closely pressing short man. The short man held a greenish dagger in each of his hands, and the daggers could be said to be exceptionally dexterous in the short man's hands, even tracing pretty dagger-blossoms in his grasp, while the intense blade light they reflected made people utterly unable to approach.

Before long, the female mage was driven into a corner, and most importantly, her magic scrolls were used up. The female mage mentally cursed, "Dammit," and immediately turned back to release a fireball. The short man crouched down, let out an insidious smile, and then rapidly charged toward the female mage. With no other choice, the female mage rolled clumsily toward the grassy patch to the side. At that very moment, she caught sight of the scene of Kels being killed, feeling a chill in her heart. And the short man seized precisely this opportunity, rapidly waving his daggers with a speed that left only afterimages.

Regaining her senses at that moment, the female mage hurriedly cast an acid magic spell instantly, rolling aside clumsily once more. The female mage scrambled to her feet, and the short man did not immediately rush up to kill her, because she had already been poisoned by the daggers, and in his view the female mage was already a dead person. Looking at her injured arm, the female mage hastily swallowed an antidote.

"Meaningless action, it merely lets you live a few more seconds." The short man's insidious voice came out from beneath his cowl. "You despicable scum are just as disgusting as your master." "You don't understand the greatness of the master at all, foolish mortals, not worthy of living in this world." Having spoken, the short man charged forward, intending to kill the female mage.

Yet the female mage calmly produced a white scroll. This scroll was very special, differing greatly from the ones she had thrown earlier; not only could it emit a faint fluorescent glow itself, but a wave of powerful magical aura also leaked out. The short man had sensed something was wrong the moment she intended to take it out, and he hurriedly waved his daggers, wanting to kill the female mage before she could make any moves, but unfortunately he was still a step too slow.

Behold, the scroll in the female mage's hand radiated brilliant light, and a bizarre magic circle accompanied by powerful magical fluctuations manifested. The magic circle appeared for a very brief moment, and the next instant it vanished immediately along with the female mage herself. The short man angrily slashed his daggers about, yet it was of no use.