‘Is that guy's reputation really that good?’ Not only Macar, but even Ogre was surprised.
As a merchant, maintaining a good reputation was no easy feat—as long as they weren't notorious, they were already doing better than most of their peers.
“Alright, I understand... But why didn't you go directly to a nearby town to report this?” Macar lowered his guard and gestured for everyone to gather closer.
“Someone from our group has already gone... but we haven't heard anything back yet. We're waiting here for our teammates who left.”
The hunters' response actually made Macar look at them in a slightly new light.
Knowing full well that this was a dangerous place, they were still willing to wait here for their departed companions, and they had even been willing to come out to block travelers—even if they hadn't succeeded in doing so.
“So what do you plan to do next?” Macar asked a sharp question.
The hunters looked at each other. Finally, the hunter who had been leading them stepped forward. “My friend, I'm glad you're willing to believe us. What I want to ask of you is actually very simple—please let my brothers follow you to a safe village or town.”
“And what about you?”
Macar scanned the surroundings. After confirming he didn't sense any threats, he nodded—he needed these villagers to go back and testify.
After all, this matter did not seem simple.
‘Thankfully, Friar Fula is still around...’
Realizing this, Macar felt incredibly lucky. If not for the series of incidents earlier, he might have actually ridden the horned horse carriage all the way into town with Miss Gelin.
“I'm staying behind,” the leading hunter said decisively.
The Church of Truth wasn't particularly strong in villages and small towns, as powerful Truth Sorcerers mostly gathered in large cities, hungering for advanced knowledge.
On the contrary, powerful figures from the Church of Dawn were more likely to appear in small towns and villages—because they required faith.
However, powerful experts from the Church of Dawn didn't just appear in any random village or town.
Most of the Church of Dawn's outstanding Knights and Clerics were constantly on the move. Only when a village with a large number of believers encountered trouble would it draw the attention of powerful Clerics or Paladins to investigate.
Normally, having a few Clerics and Paladins of ordinary Professional level was already considered quite good.
If not for the witch incident, a white-robed Senior Cleric of Fula's level would basically never have come to Macar's village.
‘Why does it feel like... the witch incident is connected to this?’ Ogre, standing on the side, suspected a link between the two matters.
“Miss Gelin, do you think this is alright...?” Macar had already made up his mind to return to the village.
He was somewhat worried that Miss Gelin wouldn't be able to handle it.
“Mm...” Ogre nodded. He felt that specialized matters were best left to professionals.
“I am an official Knight of the Church of Dawn—Macar. If you are willing to believe me, then follow me. I can only do my best to ensure your safety.” Macar gave his name to build trust.
“Thank you, Sir Knight...” The hunters exchanged looks, and ultimately, they all cupped their hands and bowed to Macar in unison.
This was a sign of respect for a Paladin.
The hunters didn't waste time on discussions or emotional farewells—because they had already made these decisions long before Ogre and Macar arrived.
“Wait for me. If there is any news, I will definitely return.” Macar tapped his right shoulder with his left fist, making a promise to the hunter staying behind.
These hunters acted with calm precision, boldness, and loyalty, which made them worthy of his promise.
“Thank you, Sir Knight. I entrust my brothers to you.” The leading hunter smiled and returned the salute. “If something has indeed happened to the town, then I've already prepared to put my life to good use...”
They had long since prepared for revenge.
“Let us carry the satchel...” One of the hunters stepped forward and picked up the satchel Macar had dropped. After testing its weight... he found it rather light, far from the weight he had imagined.
‘Actually, it wouldn't have mattered if that bag got lost...’ Macar was about to say something, but he realized the hunter had already picked up the satchel.
In the end, he lowered his raised hand, tacitly accepting the hunters' somewhat clumsy goodwill.
“Here...”
At this moment, Ogre brought out the spyglass once again.
Since someone was staying behind, it was better to return this item to the person who needed it.
Macar understanding his intent, took the spyglass from Ogre and tossed it to the hunter staying behind.
“Let's go then... By the way, Miss Gelin... If, well, if you find it too hard to keep up, I can carry you.”
“Mm...”
Ogre nodded.
...
“I wonder how that fellow Ogre is doing...” Lange sighed out of nowhere. He had very few friends, and Ogre barely qualified as one. “But that kid really got the better deal. He ran off right after getting paid.”
The adventuring band had disbanded so soon after its formation; anyone would feel a bit melancholy about it.
Still, he didn't think someone like Ogre would ever let himself get the short end of the stick.
“Don't focus too much on gains and losses, Lange...” Hearing Ogre's name, Folke couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
He had thought highly of this frontier apprentice—he hadn't expected the accident to happen so quickly.
No one regretted the dissolution of the Super Serris Adventuring Band more than he did.
But what was done was done. No matter how much he regretted it, there was no point crying over spilled milk. Looking forward was what mattered most—his path would not stop here.
“Yes, Young Master...”
Looking at Folke's calm face, Lange decided not to bring up that name again. Ever since Ogre left the team, Folke had been depressed for another day.
Lange didn't know what Folke had been thinking, but he felt that the young master had become much more reserved...
‘Whatever, we're leaving the frontier anyway...’ Lange thought to himself.
Recently, Laidi had taken them away from the Professionals Association in the frontier city.
Currently, they were staying in a small town.
Supposedly, the city was in too much chaos and something big was about to happen, so they had come out to avoid it. Either way, it looked like they wouldn't be staying in the frontier lands for much longer.
After all, nobles from the interior like them were not particularly popular among the frontier people.
“Lange, you must understand—the strong are strong wherever they go.” Folke looked up at the sky and said, “It's merely a bird escaping its cage...”
Hearing this, Lange finally smiled. “Yes, yes, you're right, Young Master.”
Before they knew it, they had walked to the entrance of the small town.
“Young Master, why are so many people gathered here?” Lange asked, pointing toward the town entrance.
“Perhaps because winter is coming...”
Folke scanned the clothing of those people following Lange's gaze and finally offered his guess.
“It's not just the winter... the beast tide is also coming soon. If you don't want to die, you should hurry back to the city—without a powerful Cleric, it will be very difficult for this town to survive.” A voice drifted into Folke's ears at that moment.
It belonged to a knight leaning against the city wall, wearing soiled armor (with a helmet).
“Who are you?” Folke leaned forward with interest.
“Be careful, Young Master, he's a Knight...” Lange stepped in front of Folke.
Once Knights came close to each other, they could sense the battle qi in one another. Although it was faint, it was enough to confirm their identities.
“It's fine...” Folke patted Lange's shoulder and stepped forward on his own initiative—though he kept himself at a safe distance where he could still react in time.
This action actually surprised the mysterious knight. “I thought all of you nobles were arrogant and overbearing.”
“How we behave is our own business—and I will change that. As for you, what right do you have to spread such alarmist talk?”
Folke's voice had been devoid of emotion lately.
This made it difficult for ordinary people to detect any clear leaning in his words.
“I have no obligation to explain to you... Believe it or not.” The mysterious knight lowered his head again.
“You bastard!”
Hearing this response, Lange's short temper immediately flared up.
“Lange!”
Folke scolded him with some helplessness. He had thought Lange had changed—but it turned out he was still the same.
It seemed there was still a long and difficult way to go.
If he couldn't even change the people around him, there was no point in talking about changing the world.
“You're injured, aren't you...?” Folke took out a bottle of Recovery Potion and placed it next to the mysterious knight.
This gesture made the mysterious knight lift his head once more. “What you're doing is useless—anyway, if you believe me, leave the frontier. The further, the better.”
He only spoke up to warn them because he had seen Folke giving charity to refugees and beggars yesterday.
“Young Master, why do you care about this guy? I think he's just a charlatan. A perfectly fine Knight, throwing aside honor and dignity, just lying at the town entrance spouting nonsense.”
Lange had no patience for people who acted all mysterious and played tricks like this.
“Lange, you must learn to watch your tongue. Everyone has hard times, and regardless of how he put it, his intentions were good.” Folke took out a gold coin from his belt pouch, placed it in front of the mysterious knight, and prepared to leave.
After arriving in the frontier, Folke had witnessed another side of life. So whenever he saw refugees or wretched people, he would offer some help.
This made him feel a little better inside.
“Hey, my friend. If you don't want to be swarmed by the beggars around here, you'd better take that money back.” At that moment, another voice echoed from not far behind Folke.
Rate on N.U.
