Knights and Magic Wand

Trudging through the wilderness proved to be more challenging than expected, and the group's pace was considerably slower than they had hoped. There was only one pair of boots scavenged from the mercenary, and regardless of who wore them, the other two were forced to walk barefoot.

However, despite being extremely careful, Azeryan soon stepped on a sharp object hidden in the grass and injured his foot. Thus, the single pair of boots had to be given to him.

Thanks to Leon's hunting expertise, they were able to catch rabbits, dig out birds, and spearfish along the way, eating whatever they could find. At times, they even feasted on the wolves that foolishly attacked them. But when luck was not on their side, they often had to satisfy their hunger with wild fruits and plant tubers.

As they had no map and could only vaguely discern directions, they often found themselves more confused as they walked, leading to lost bearings. It was many days before they finally came across a rural path, which made their journey somewhat easier.

This was the first sign of habitation they had come across since escaping the vicinity of the mercenary camp.

As soon as they knew Azeryan could speak Uria Language, Leon had wanted to find a village as soon as possible to exchange their silver coins for survival resources. The discomfort of long treks barefoot in the wilderness was unbearable, and the chill of the night was even worse, with their lack of adequate clothing making it almost intolerable.

They quickened their pace, and upon reaching the end of their line of sight, the sight of a small village scattered with thatched cottages gave them all a lift of spirits.

However, instead of heading straight for the village, the three of them dove into a nearby forest.

Following the plan they had discussed earlier, Azeryan, who spoke Uria Language, donned Chain Armor and strapped on a Sword and Shield. He was to go alone into the village with coins to scout, and if all went well, Leon and Lokhak, who had no knowledge of the language, wouldn't need to risk further complications by going there themselves.

The fair-looking Azeryan was well-suited to masquerade as a Knight Attendant, given that he was a noble's son from Holy Land City. His speech and demeanor were more than enough to bluff the rural villagers.

Leon and Lokhak climbed a nearby hillock for a better vantage point to observe.

As Azeryan's figure disappeared behind the village houses, Leon noticed something odd. Despite it being broad daylight, he couldn't spot a single villager's movement from his high vantage point, which made him suspicious.

While Leon's gaze was still searching for any local villagers, Azeryan, who had entered the village not much earlier, ran back out and waved to Leon and Lokhak from the entrance, signaling them to come over.

The two men, hiding on the hill, exchanged looks. Despite their confusion, they emerged from the woods and hurried to their companion's side.

"What's going on?" Leon asked as he arrived at the village entrance.

"There are no living people here. The place is a mess, and there are a few corpses. The villagers must have fled a long time ago," Azeryan replied as he handed his Sword back to Lokhak.

"Were this village attacked by bandits?" Leon finally noticed the chaotic crisscross of horse hooves at the entrance and the low wooden fences knocked askew.

"I'm not sure, but we shouldn't stay here too long," Azeryan fretted. "The corpses look like they've been here a while. If there are any surviving villagers who fled, they might seek help from the local Lord to send troops to exterminate the bandits. Let's find anything useful quickly and get out of here before anyone shows up."

Leon internally lamented the rampant banditry of these medieval, chaotic times. Without further ado, they entered the village promptly to gather supplies.

The wooden doors of the cottages were all wide open, some of them even violently smashed down, which facilitated the trio's scavenging, as they kept their distance and moved from hut to hut, each going their own way.

Although every cottage had already been looted by bandits, it was clear that the thieves wouldn't take everything, not even the trash. Leon had turned over several houses in a row and soon found the Shoes he had been longing for beside a bed in one of them.

Even if they were just shoddily constructed shoes with woven straw soles and worn leather bindings, they were still better than continuing to torture the soles of his feet.

With these ill-fitting fur shoes on, Leon's scavenging efficiency greatly accelerated along with his lighter footsteps.

He quickly moved his hands and feet through the chaotically ruined interiors, rummaging through boxes and cabinets. Although he didn't find anything that could be called valuable, he soon came across some dusty, coarse linen jackets and tattered trousers.

The frayed edges and the coarse, hard texture were extremely uncomfortable to wear. That's why even the robbers didn't bother with such rubbish. But having clothes to wear was better than none at all, and they would at least keep the wind off.

Using scavenged rags, he made pockets and collected the scattered coarse bread and some grains that had spilled on the ground into a ceramic bowl. In his heart, Leon couldn't help but complain that these bandits really did scrape the ground clean, leaving behind nothing useful except for leftover grains in some broken jars and pots.

Carrying the only harvest in his rag pocket, he entered another wooden house. The first thing he smelled upon entering was an unbearable stench, and looking toward the back of the house as he followed the smell, he was shocked by the scene in front of him.

The first thing that caught his eye was a female corpse showing signs of decay, naked and with a tragic death expression. Just by looking at the posture of the body, one could imagine the inhumane torture and atrocities she suffered before death—and what made Leon's anger boil was that the deceased looked very young. To put it bluntly...

...they're a bunch of goddamn beasts...

With a silent tribute, Leon turned his eyes away and then suddenly realized there wasn't just one body.

Not far away, there lay a beheaded male corpse, also stripped of his clothes, his posture that of being bound with his hands behind his back in a kneeling position. The body was covered in sword-inflicted wounds from before his death.

Looking at the fallen head next to it, the man appeared older...maybe the father of the female corpse.

It was unimaginable to think of his despair and pain as he was forced to watch his daughter suffer brutalities before his death.

Leon could no longer bear to look; he stepped back a few paces and closed the door to the room.

The human tragedy that unfolded in this house kept reviving the miserable memories of the body's original owner.

Nothing was more infuriating and painful than having personally experienced something similar.

Lokhak finished searching another house and walked over, seeing Leon only glance in the door before stepping back out of the wooden hut, he couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong? Is there anything inside?"

Leon sighed and shook his head, "...There's no need to search this house; there surely wouldn't be anything valuable left in there."

Lokhak, looking puzzled, stepped forward and opened the door to glance inside. He then retreated with an even uglier expression than Leon's and took a deep breath to calm his violently fluctuating emotions.

Even he, who harbored a deep-seated hatred for the Kantadar people, couldn't help but be psychologically impacted after witnessing the same tragedy befalling the ordinary civilians of the enemy nation.

"Let's go," Leon patted his shoulder.

It took quite some time, but after searching house by house, the three of them managed to essentially turn the small village upside down. In the end, they did reap some rewards: they collected enough food to last the three of them for a while. Additionally, Leon and Azeryan, who had no clothes, found some worn straw sandals and hemp garments to cover their bodies, finally shedding their wild man appearance.

Moreover, they unearthed two rusted pitchforks from a corner of a farmhouse, allowing Leon to finally discard the rough wooden spear that had been sharpened time and again.

With their backpacks secured, the three didn't dally and quickened their pace to hit the road again before it became dark.

That evening, they satiated themselves with a meal of barley porridge mixed with beans served with coarse bread. Yet, even with this long-missed proper meal, there was no sense of joy in their hearts.

Anyone with an unextinguished conscience would find it hard to put those village atrocities behind them in a short time, let alone the harrowing scenes that continuously reminded the three of their own tragic experiences.

A night without words passed, and with the break of dawn, they continued on their journey. With shoes on their feet and a stockpile of food, their speed increased significantly.

Around noon, Leon suddenly felt a faint trembling of the ground. He was momentarily dazed, then quickly remembered the techniques his father had taught him and promptly got down to press his ear against the ground.

It was not an illusion; the vibrations caused by the mass of hooves indicated that a large group of riders was approaching.

"Hide quickly, there's a cavalry coming from behind!" Leon urgently summoned his companions.

Lokhak and Azeryan, without a doubt, followed Leon's lead and ran towards a nearby forest, sprinting as far as they could from the road.

They dared not look back as they burrowed into the wilds to conceal themselves. They lay low behind a mound, holding their breath in silence.

It was only when the rumbling hooves had gradually faded into the distance that the three let go of their tightened nerves and poked their heads out.

"Who were those people? Were they a bandit's cavalry?" Lokhak first thought of the pillaged village they had encountered the day before.

Leon was noncommittal. "Who knows, they could be the local lord's troops."

"Should we continue along the same road?" Azeryan asked, frowning with concern about encountering that group again.

Leon fell into thought, feeling that he had miscalculated. He had assumed heading north would be safer, but they ended up encountering an armed force anyway.

The rhythmic, orderly sound of the hooves told them without a doubt that this was a troop of well-trained cavalry.

He couldn't be sure if this cavalry was the vanguard of some army, with possibly a larger force following on their tail. If his conjectures were true, then under no circumstances could they turn back now.

After sharing his suspicions with his companions, they had a brief discussion. They decided to keep moving forward in the same direction through the woods—as strangers in a foreign land, they didn't have much of a choice anyway.

"Everyone be careful and stay alert to any movement on the road. If something isn't right, we'll all run deeper into the forest together."

The group quickened their pace through the woods by the roadside in silence.

Before long, another rumbling of hooves orderly passed along the road, prompting them to hide once more among the forest undergrowth, with Leon feeling even more pressure.

Before nightfall, they veered off the main road into the deeper part of the dense forest and found a rocky hollow back-facing the direction of the road to safely light a fire and set up camp.

During the night, Leon lay restlessly on the ground, unable to sleep. Heading north had been his idea, and now the road ahead was fraught with risks, which made him feel somewhat regretful.

...Would there be troops setting up camp at the end of the road?

If they ran headlong into the Kantadar army, could they escape?

Or, perhaps they could try to blend in as locals by using a few phrases of Uria Language that Azeryan taught?

While mulling over these thoughts, he furrowed his brows, suddenly recalling the village from the day before and felt a contradiction.

If such a large-scale local army was maneuvering frequently nearby, how was it possible that bandits had the audacity to raid a local village?

Weren't those bandits afraid of stumbling upon the lord's army and having their heads taken as military exploits?

Unless—

Leon remembered the fall of Rolannar City, the scenes of the Kantadar army and savage mercenaries burning, killing, and plundering in the Holy Land City.

He came to a cruel realization in his heart.

An ancient adage that had once seemed far removed from him sprang to mind.

Thieves pass like a comb, soldiers like a lice comb.

Perhaps the plunderers of that village were the Kantadar army itself.