Karas Snow, serving as a scout, galloped back from the front lines, exclaiming with excitement, "Young Master Eddard, it's bandits! There are about thirty to forty of them, with three to five archers, six or seven riders, and the rest are just insignificant rabble."
He added with a grin, "But here's the best part—there really is grain here! The bandits even helped us load it onto the wagons."
Eddard raised an eyebrow, glanced at Sir Lyman beside him, and remarked with a smile, "It seems our luck is quite favorable today."
These bandits, despite their numbers, posed little threat to Eddard's forces. Moreover, he had recently acquired new magic and needed a substantial amount of soul power to exchange for it.
Drawing his longsword and shield, Eddard shouted to his retainers, "Warriors of House Karstark, follow me! Charge and eliminate those bandits, then reclaim what we need!"
Without waiting for Lyman Frey to respond, Eddard urged his warhorse forward, galloping like the wind along the muddy path toward the village.
"Go!" "Follow!" came the resounding cries of the Karstark riders.
Eddard led the charge, his black warhorse and dark plate armor striking a formidable presence in the daylight. Two archers at the village entrance spotted him and fired arrows, but they were deflected by Eddard's sunburst-emblazoned shield.
In a swift move, Eddard's sword flashed, and blood sprayed from a bandit's throat as the archer collapsed. Karas Snow, with precision, dispatched another archer with a javelin.
The chaos continued as Eddard charged into the village, his warhorse trampling bandits beside the wagons. A scythe-wielding bandit attempted to resist, only to be kicked down by the rearing horse.
Eddard swung his shield, smashing the head of a bandit attacking with a short sword, then swiftly plunged his longsword into the neck of another foe.
As his horse thundered along the village path, the fallen bodies marked his passage.
"Damn it, can't even enjoy a woman in peace?" A burly man with a bushy beard emerged from a farmhouse, adjusting his trousers. His rusty iron armor bore a golden Lion insignia, and he wielded a blood-stained cleaver.
The bandit, confronted by Eddard's charge, retreated in alarm, raising his cleaver to strike. Eddard parried the blow and, with a swift thrust, drove his sword into the man's left eye.
The bandit let out a scream before collapsing in agony.
Nearby, mounted bandits hurried to intercept, but Eddard's cavalry swiftly dispatched them, leaving no survivors.
The remaining rabble, seeing the dire situation, abandoned their loot and attempted to flee, only to be cut down by the pursuing cavalry.
The battle concluded swiftly, lasting less than five minutes.
Sir Lyman, who had followed quietly, was left in stunned silence.
The villagers, hearing the commotion, cautiously emerged from their homes, peering through doorways.
With the bandits vanquished, Eddard departed Water Mill Town, his wagons laden with grain. He negotiated a contract with the grateful villagers, ensuring a steady supply of provisions.
As they traveled back, Sir Lyman regaled Eddard with tales of local tavern girls, their charms, and their skills. Eddard listened with mild amusement, but his mind was occupied with the mission at hand.
---
**A New Mission**
Back at the Twins, Marquis Walder was less than pleased. A bowl of fish soup shattered before Sir Lyman as the marquis expressed his disappointment. "I sent you to learn about Eddard Karstark, to find out his likes and dislikes, his friends and enemies, even his fiancée's family. And what did you do? You took him on a bandit hunt!"
"It was by chance," Sir Lyman muttered, nursing a cut on his face from the shards. "Young Master Eddard wanted to buy grain, and several places didn't work out. So I took them to Water Mill Town, and we happened upon bandits—thirty or forty of them."
"That many? What is that little beast, also named Walder, doing?" Marquis Walder cursed under his breath. "What about Eddard Karstark's casualties?"
"Almost none," Sir Lyman replied. "Only one cavalryman fell when his horse sprained its ankle. I think his name was Lando."
"Not a single one?" Marquis Walder asked again, surprised, then received confirmation from Sir Lyman. "Then it seems Young Master Eddard is truly brave and skilled in battle, and his subordinates are excellent warriors."
"Heh heh heh, very good, very good," the marquis sneered, lowering his head in thought.
Moments later, he beckoned his grandson closer and whispered instructions.
"Will this work? Will Eddard Karstark agree?" Sir Lyman questioned.
"Slap!" Marquis Walder backhanded his grandson, saying resentfully, "It's not for a useless person like you to question my decisions! Do as I say!"
Despite the marquis's strength, Sir Lyman scrambled and fled.
---
**A Surprising Proposal**
Eddard, holding his wine cup, listened incredulously to Sir Lyman, who sat opposite him. "Marquis Walder wants me to eradicate the bandits in the surrounding area? One bandit head is worth one silver moon? A bandit leader is worth one gold dragon?"
"Are you sure?"
If it was just a regular bandit extermination, it wouldn't be a bad thing. Staying in the castle all day was boring, and his soldiers might soon seek entertainment elsewhere. Finding something to do, earning some extra money, and letting his subordinates gain experience was always advantageous.
In the recent battle, several new soldiers had already leveled up to [Descendant of the First Men], boosting their strength.
Eddard pondered the proposal, noting that the scheme seemed crude and illogical. Was Old Frey really that foolish?
Instead of speculating, Eddard decided to play along and uncover Old Frey's intentions.
With a smile, he said, "The North is a harsh land. Besides barren soil and rugged stones, there's nothing else. Alright, I'll take this mission, but the price House Frey is offering is too low; it's not worth the warriors of House Karstark's effort."
"For a common bandit head, I want ten silver moons, and a bandit leader must be five gold dragons!"
Sir Lyman's expression soured, but the price wasn't his concern—it wasn't his money. His only wish was to avoid another encounter with the old marquis.
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