After spending nearly a week on the magic train, the caravan finally arrived in the Northern Territory at dusk.
They reached the transit city of Aka, and from there, it was only a two-day journey to the Northern Territory.
The caravan members were busy unloading goods, while Ezreal stood by the train with Levy, Jet, Droy, and Lucy.
As they were already close to the Northern Territory, the evening temperature in Akanie City was very low.
The group watched the red sun, about to completely set in the distance, feeling no warmth in the cold wind.
Levy quietly said, "Although the mole is gone, the caravan must pass through Aka. If nothing unexpected happens, the Specters won't miss the opportunity to attack here."
As soon as Levy finished speaking, Lucy beside her was visibly startled, and much of her joy from getting off the train dissipated.
Ezreal smiled, glanced left and right, then subtly withdrew his gaze. "I already sensed malice as soon as we got off the train. There are at least ten people watching us here."
Jet pulled down his hat brim, his green eyes glinting slightly. "Should we deal with them?"
Droy looked at the dense crowd around them, somewhat hesitant. "There are too many people here. If we act..."
Ezreal placed a hand on Jet's shoulder and shook his head lightly. "They're probably afraid we have some sensory abilities, so the watchers are all ordinary people. There's no need to deal with them."
"We'll adapt as we go."
...Night fell, and a biting chill permeated the streets.
The caravan checked into a hotel they had booked in advance. Located in the city center, the hotel was elegantly decorated and comfortable, an ideal place for the caravan to rest.
However, this seemingly peaceful hotel was about to become the eye of a storm.
In the hotel lobby, the caravan members were gathered around a long table, enjoying dinner.
The table was laden with a rich array of dishes; the steaming food dispelled the fatigue of their journey.
Lucy, Ezreal, Levy, Jet, and Droy sat together, chatting casually.
"The cuisine of the Northern Territory really has a unique flavor," Lucy said, picking up a piece of golden-brown bread and taking a small bite, a satisfied smile on her face.
Levy pushed up her glasses, smiling as she replied, "Yes, the ingredients here are simple, but the cooking methods are very distinctive."
Jet and Droy, meanwhile, focused on the food in front of them, especially the gluttonous Droy, who was wolfing down the roasted meat on his plate, completely ignoring the others' conversation.
Ezreal leaned back in his chair, taking small bites of a dessert in his hand, his gaze casually sweeping the lobby, a flicker of vigilance in his eyes.
Just at this seemingly calm and warm moment, a sudden quarrel erupted at the other end of the lobby.
"What do you mean? Why do you say my work isn't good?" A caravan member slammed his hand on the table, his face flushed, his voice clearly angry.
"Was I wrong? Look at your performance today. You even had to go to the toilet for five minutes when moving boxes off the train. You're simply a parasite of the caravan!" Another member, not to be outdone, also stood up, glaring angrily.
The argument between the two quickly escalated, their voices growing louder. Surrounding caravan members also began to join in, some mediating, some agreeing, and the scene instantly became chaotic.
"Enough!" Charlotte's voice rang out in the lobby. He quickly walked between the two quarreling men, trying to stop the commotion.
However, when Charlotte, usually calm and gentlemanly, came to the two men and saw their flushed faces, as well as the circle of caravan members around them, he felt an unnamed anger surge within him.
His voice became agitated, even with a hint of uncontrolled sharpness. "Stop it! What are you doing? All of you, shut up!"
Charlotte's roar had no effect; instead, it made the scene even more chaotic.
The caravan members seemed to be controlled by some invisible force, their emotions growing more agitated, and some even began to push and shove.
Lucy stared at all this, completely bewildered as to why the convivial dinner had suddenly turned into this.
She instinctively stood up, wanting to go forward and intervene, but Ezreal gently pressed her shoulder, making her sit back down.
"Don't go over," Ezreal's voice was low and calm. "This isn't an ordinary quarrel."
Levy, Jet, and Droy also stood up, their gazes vigilantly sweeping their surroundings.
They had long sensed that something was wrong; the caravan members' emotions had spiraled out of control too suddenly, clearly indicating someone was manipulating them in the shadows.
Just then, a hurried sound of footsteps came from behind Lucy.
She instinctively turned around, only to see the caravan's accompanying head chef, cleaver in hand, walking towards her with a ferocious expression.
"It's all your fault! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been stuck in the kitchen, busy beyond belief!" The chef's voice was full of resentment, his eyes bloodshot, as if completely consumed by some furious emotion.
Lucy froze, completely unaware of what was happening. She instinctively began to apologize, "I'm sorry, I..."
However, the chef had no intention of listening to her explanation. He raised the cleaver high and swung it fiercely down towards Lucy.
The gleaming blade rapidly enlarged before her eyes.
"Sleep · י ש ן!"
Just at this critical moment, Levy's voice rang out behind Lucy.
A white Solid Script Magic appeared out of thin air, quickly flying towards the chef, accurately hitting his forehead.
The chef's movements instantly froze, the cleaver in his hand clanged to the ground, and he himself collapsed, falling into a deep sleep.
Lucy breathed a sigh of relief, turning to look at Levy, her eyes full of gratitude. "Levy-chan..."
Before Lucy could utter any words of thanks, the sound of a shattered plate suddenly came from the next table.
Old John from the transport team grabbed the warehouse manager's tie, his face flushed crimson, his eyes wide like copper bells: "How many times have I told you to sort the cargo boxes by color!"
"If they're messy, just adjust them yourself!" The manager slammed his fist on the pine table, the cutlery rattling with the wooden table.
Charlotte picked up an exquisite teapot and smashed it on the ground, porcelain shards flying. "All of you, that's enough!"
"You parasites! You take the guild's wages every month and all you do is these stupid things!"
Ezreal looked at Charlotte, usually a gentleman, now red-faced and roaring, and chuckled. "Don't tell me, Mr. Charlotte has quite a loud voice."
Jet nodded. "Indeed."
Droy chimed in, "He could give the old man a run for his money."
Lucy was shocked. These people were too relaxed, weren't they? "Is this really the time to be talking about such things?"
"Consider it a way to relieve everyone's tension. A proper emotional release isn't bad either," Ezreal replied with a smile, then tapped his finger on the table. "Levy."
The blue-haired girl with glasses pushed up her spectacles and said words that reassured Lucy, "Leave it to me."
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 40 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
[patreon.com/TripleCrown07]
Thank you so much for your support!!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"