The Next Day
"Get moving, fellas."
"Pack everything up, don't leave a single thing behind."
Just as dawn was breaking, shouting echoed through the caravan's campsite. Several leaders were urging their members to pack things up and load them onto the horse carriages.
Originally, the caravan led by Vandersea would have stayed for only two days before leaving. However, considering the existence of that giant crimson wolf, the caravan feared an attack on the road. They waited until the cavalry returned to Three Tower Town before setting off together.
"Hurry up, hurry up! Lord Frien won't wait for us. If we're late, we won't be able to keep up." Vandersea walked over to supervise and urge them on.
On the other side of the village, the members of the cavalry had already woken up and were gradually moving some of the wounded onto carriages. Frien and the old village chief were discussing things by the plaza.
"Old man Pound, I'll be borrowing these two carriages. I'll have someone send them back in a while." He hadn't brought any carriages when he arrived.
"No problem. But when you return them, you'd better bring me ten sets of bows and arrows, as well as some iron-jaw traps. Basswood Village is very short of those right now."
"What you're asking for isn't cheap." Frien shook his head.
"Even for a white ash longbow, one set costs 4 silver coins. Adding the arrows, it's probably 5 silver coins. Ten sets would be 50 silver. Plus, the iron traps will likely cost about 10 silver. That's 60 silver in total."
"Apply for it with Baron Holin. Just say that if anything happens to Basswood Village, next year's taxes will be hard to pay." The old village chief waved his hand while leaning on his wooden staff.
With Baron Holin's strength, it would be no problem at all to suppress Basswood Village. However, this old village chief held high prestige locally and was an elder to Baron Holin, as well as a friend of the previous Baron Holin. Therefore, unless necessary, the current Baron Holin would not fall out over such a small matter.
"Fine, I understand." Frien could only helplessly agree.
At around 7 AM, the prepared cavalry and caravan set off together. A small number of villagers accompanied them; some were going to Riverstone Town, while others were headed for Cinderstone City.
Within the group, Sylvia and Talia sat in a carriage. Today, Sylvia wore a reddish-brown wool cloak with a hood that could be pulled up at any time. Underneath was a newly sewn cotton dress. The material for the cotton clothes was a gift from the merchant Vandersea, though judging by his pained expression at the time, it likely cost a fortune.
In the Duchy of Regas, wool fabric was not expensive—about three times the price of linen—but cotton cloth was certainly not cheap, costing roughly ten times as much as linen. This was because the Duchy had many forests and plains with many villages raising cattle and sheep, so there was no shortage of wool. Cotton cloth, however, was imported from distant countries, keeping the price naturally high.
The plain white silk dress Sylvia had originally worn had been put away because it was too precious and conspicuous. It was now kept in a small wooden chest accompanying her.
Speaking of the small wooden chest, it contained Sylvia's silk dress, a short sword, a hair ribbon, and 3 Silver Leaf Coins. This was her entire fortune now.
A common villager in Basswood Village earned about 2 to 3 silver coins a month. These 3 coins she possessed were the payment Frien had given her for taking care of the wounded.
Amidst the jolting of the wheels, the shouting, and the sounds of driving horses, the group moved out of the village and headed west along the road through the wilderness.
On the road.
Sylvia leaned against the carriage window, watching the distant scenery. There were wide, undulating plains and grasslands, but distant mountains and forests were also clearly visible. Occasionally, flocks of birds could be seen flying over the mountain woods, their chirping echoing through the air.
The road was bumpy, and the old-fashioned carriage lacked good shock absorption. Sylvia was constantly jolted awake whenever she tried to sleep, so she could only rest by leaning on the table in front of her from time to time.
Opposite her, Talia remained energetic throughout the journey, chatting with Sylvia about local anecdotes. Occasionally, she would pull back the curtain and point outside to tell Sylvia what this or that place was and what had happened there.
"See that big rock? Doesn't it look out of place when the surroundings are all flat ground?" Talia started chattering again.
"That was specifically carved from the mountain when Baron Holin's great-great-grandfather wanted to build a castle. But halfway through the transport, the carriage overturned. The accompanying scholar said it was an ill omen, so the stone was never used and was left by the roadside. Now it's become a useful landmark; generally, when you see it, you know Riverstone Town isn't far away."
Sylvia looked at the rock and saw some charred marks from firewood underneath. She guessed that travelers probably spent the night here occasionally.
The convoy continued forward, arriving at Riverstone Town around 3 PM.
The sound of river water grew closer. A crude three-meter-high stone wall surrounded the small town, with some parts covered in vines and moss. A few idle guards sat in a wooden shed on the wall, their gazes occasionally sweeping over the road and town gate below.
Captain Frien and Vandersea were both old acquaintances of Riverstone Town. After simple greetings, the convoy entered the town. Compared to Basswood Village, the houses here were much denser, many built along the streets, giving it the feel of a proper town.
Arriving at the inn where they would stay, the group dismounted, preparing to rest here for the night. It was still early before dark, but after Riverstone Town, there were no other places to stay for the night.
"Let's head down too." Sylvia pulled up the hood of her cloak to hide her striking silver hair and then got out of the carriage with Talia.
The carriages were parked in the inn's backyard. People from the caravan were busy; some unhitched the horses, while others pulled part of the freight wagons to the market, hoping to do a bit of business before dark. Others prepared to eat something and rest first.
The cavalry members were all at the inn. Frien took out a bag of money and asked the innkeeper to prepare food. Seeing Sylvia walk in, he gestured for the two girls to come over.
"How was the journey, Tia?"
"It was fine. The scenery on the road was quite fresh," Tia nodded.
Seeing that she was in good spirits, Frien nodded slightly. This child was much better than those delicate noble ladies. He remembered the first time he accompanied the Second Miss of the Sindhu family on a long trip; she had complained the whole way, giving him a headache.
"Get some good rest tonight." He was a man of few words. After finishing his instructions, he let Sylvia go to her room to rest, saying someone would bring food up later.
Sylvia agreed, but she wasn't in a hurry to sleep. Instead, she went for a walk around the town with Talia.
Riverstone Town was home to about two thousand people. The main road here was paved with stone bricks, and there were brick houses along the streets. Many nearby villagers could be seen coming to town to trade. The two of them walked less than a hundred meters before reaching the town market. It was enclosed by a simple fence, with wooden sheds and stalls set up inside. Two local patrolmen sat lazily by the entrance.
As evening approached, the crowd in the market had thinned out. Sylvia walked with a light step, browsing the various items on display.
Talia walked behind her. She was quite familiar with this place and wasn't particularly curious; she was already thinking about where to find some good food tonight.
Food in the village was very simple. Only Aunt Moti knew how to make bread and pies; everyone else usually ate wheat porridge and vegetable soup. Meat was rare, seasonings were scarce, and the flavors were exceptionally monotonous.
Following Sylvia to Cinderstone City would likely be her only chance in the past six months to eat something with a different flavor.
Sylvia's eyes curiously scanned the various goods displayed: vegetables brought by nearby villagers, including common ones like 'White Wind Root,' 'Purple Turnip,' and 'Black Grit Wheat,' as well as local fruits like 'Ousang Fruit' and 'Grape-kernel Fruit.' Ousang Fruit resembled apples from her previous life but was yellowish, irregularly shaped, and had many small spots on the skin. Grape-kernel Fruit was similar to grapes, but the seeds inside were exceptionally large, leaving only a thin layer of flesh on the surface.
Other items for sale included honey, beeswax, hemp rope, straw sandals, woven baskets, jam, smoked sausage, animal pelts, resin, and so on.
"The copper coins you use seem to be all different." Sylvia noticed that the copper coins held by many people varied in size and shape.
"Yes, the designs of copper coins are very haphazard, and many people are unwilling to accept them." Talia came back to her senses and explained to Sylvia.
"Because any noble can mint copper coins. Some cut corners, and some have crude craftsmanship with irregular shapes. We call them 'rotten coppers'."
"Then what about silver coins?" Sylvia became curious.
"Only high-ranking nobles are qualified to mint silver coins. They also monitor each other because taxes are basically paid in silver or gold coins."
"Gold coins?"
"Only a king can mint gold coins. One side will be stamped with their family crest, which also represents their reputation and credibility. Even our Duke, who holds the highest power in the Duchy of Regas, isn't qualified to mint gold coins. Currently, the gold coins in circulation all come from the distant Winter Kingdom."
"It's said that making gold coins is very troublesome. It requires both Alchemists and craftsmen to participate, engraving marks inside the gold coins to prevent counterfeiting."
"I heard from my sister that there are even more precious special gold coins, but I've forgotten exactly what they are."
After making a circuit of the market, the two bought a few Ousang Fruits and a small bag of Grape-kernel Fruits, then headed back to the inn.
Once their figures disappeared at the end of the street and entered the inn, a short young man carefully stepped out from a corner. He gazed at the inn's location for a long time before leaving.
A wool cloak, a cotton hem, delicate wrists... Is she a noble?
;
Night
After finishing dinner, Sylvia and Talia sat in their room. A wooden tray on the table held the washed fruit they had bought during the day.
"Phew, the bean and meat stew tonight was really delicious." Talia lay on the bed, rubbing her stomach with a look of lingering satisfaction.
Sylvia sat by the table, flipping through some yellowed, tattered notices. These were things they had found in the inn lobby when they returned, all long outdated.
'Bounty Notice: Capture Thieves', 'Hunt Gale Vultures', 'Purchasing High-Quality Timber','Seeking Bright, Heat-Emitting Flowers on Cliffs'...
Below the notice, there was some text describing the situation and requirements.
Seeing that Sylvia didn't respond, Talia climbed out of bed to take a look and then walked over.
"These? They're usually transcribed by the guild over in Cinderstone City and posted in nearby towns or villages to see if anyone takes them up. Ah-ha~" She yawned; it seemed she was getting sleepy after eating her fill.
"If they're completed, can you get the reward?" Sylvia asked with interest.
"Yes, but ordinary people can't do the things on these notices." She propped herself up with both hands behind her, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling.
It made sense; if they were truly simple, there would be no need for a specific reward.
"Thieves and the like appear every year. Gale Vultures appear in the years leading up to the Season of Rising Wind; they're even more dangerous than Werewolves."
"Lumber... the lumber is probably for some noble or merchant who wants to make furniture." As she spoke, she grew sleepy again.
"Bright Flower... Bright..." By now, she had climbed back into bed and was leaning against her pillow.
Seeing her about to fall asleep, Sylvia found it somewhat amusing. She didn't ask any more questions and instead covered Talia with a thin blanket.
After Talia fell asleep, the room became quiet. By candlelight, Sylvia leafed through the old, outdated notices a few more times, then stood up to close the window latch and prepare for sleep.
The night grew deeper, and the chirping of insects in the grass became more active. Occasionally, the strange cries of bats pierced the night sky, only to be drowned out by the sound of flowing water in the town.
...
In the middle of the night, a stealthy figure carefully crept into the inn's backyard. He first observed the area from a corner before taking action.
The moonlight was faint tonight and the sky was dark. He wore exceptionally dark clothes that shrouded his entire body; if he stood still in the shadows, he would be completely invisible.
In a rural town like this, candles were valuable items, and no one would keep them lit all night. The streets were pitch black; without a torch, one probably couldn't even see the ground beneath their feet.
Familiar with the environment, the figure moved through the darkness at a steady pace. He scaled the wall, used a haystack in the backyard to climb to a corner on the second floor of the inn, then steadied his breathing and moved through the corridor as quietly as possible with his hands slightly spread.
He was already intimately familiar with the layout and room distribution of the inn. He didn't even bother breaking into the rooms of travelers with little money; this time, his target was the "big fish" he had spotted during the day.
She looked fair-skinned and delicate, with a cotton dress peeking out from under her cloak, and she had an attendant following her—she must be a noble. If he could steal that cotton dress, he'd be set for the next six months. If he could get some jewelry too, he wouldn't have to work for years.
The risk was high, but the reward was definitely worth it.
Creeping to the target's door, the figure first paused to observe his surroundings. Then, he took out a thin iron pick and carefully inserted it into the keyhole. The faint sound of the mechanism turning was almost inaudible in the night.
Finally, after a tense moment of lockpicking, the lock loosened with a faint click. He then pushed the door open bit by bit at an extremely slow pace, minimizing any possible noise.
At this moment, his heart was at its most tense. If all went well, he should see two sleeping figures.
In the dim environment, his gaze swept across the room and found people lying in both beds. He breathed a sigh of relief, and joy immediately welled up in his heart; it seemed he was in luck today.
Steadying his breathing and footsteps once more, he bent over and walked slowly into the room, his eyes searching for valuables as he carefully felt around.
Unfortunately, after scanning the entire room, a wave of disappointment rose within him. There wasn't much luggage, and there was only a single chest.
Didn't they say nobles brought many things when they traveled? Especially noblewomen, who always brought plenty of clothes and jewelry; they cared immensely about appearances.
What kind of noble has no money? Could she be a fake? His mood soured, and the patience he had built up began to dissipate.
After searching around and finding nothing of value, he finally turned his gaze toward the small wooden chest at the head of the bed. A reddish-brown cloak was folded on top of it.
The cloak wasn't bad; his sour mood improved slightly as he edged toward the space between the two beds.
The short-haired girl sleeping on the right snored softly, occasionally smacking her lips. The figure on the left, however, was very quiet, with almost inaudible breathing.
Just as his fingers touched the wool cloak and felt its soft texture, an impact struck him directly in the lower back, kicking him into the opposite bedframe. The pain of the collision made him grunt involuntarily.
The massive jolt and impact woke Talia on the opposite side. She groggily sat up, then screamed in shock upon seeing the strange dark figure in the room.
"Ah—Yaaaaah—"
First one scream, then a series of continuous shrieks. By the end, the panic in her voice had vanished, replaced by a certain excitement.
Faced with the piercing noise, the dark figure panicked. He didn't have time to grab anything and prepared to crash through the window and jump down to escape.
Unfortunately, before he could move, the cloak was thrown over him, covering his face. The very item he had wanted to take was now a hindrance.
Tearing off the cloak haphazardly, he climbed onto a table without stopping, ready to flee, when a cold sensation pressed against his neck, instantly snapping him back to his senses.
A weapon, a sword, he quickly judged, and then froze.
Stealing would at most result in a public whipping; if he died now, everything would be over. As a habitual offender, he knew the difference all too well.
"Don't, please..." he hurriedly pleaded for mercy, backing away from the window bit by bit.
Only then did he clearly see who had attacked him. During the day, she had been hooded and far away; he only knew the person was likely female.
Now, in the dim room, her snow-white silver hair was quite striking, as were her eyes, which remained vibrant even in the dark. The young girl held a sword in one hand, forcing him to step back slowly.
So it's just a little girl... His eyelids lowered, and then his body suddenly lunged backward, dodging the swinging blade.
Such speed... a Breathing Technique?
Sylvia stared intently at the dark figure before her, a strange light swirling in her eyes.
She then pursued him, her blade thrusting straight at the dark figure. This time, she showed no mercy; she had held back a lot of strength and speed earlier for fear of killing him instantly.
Strangely, Sylvia's thrust didn't hit its mark as intended, as if she were stabbing thin air. This difference in feedback surprised her for a second time.
After days of practice, she was very confident in the precision of her swordsmanship. While she might lack the strength of a robust adult, she was superior to many in accuracy, speed, and technique.
Yet the opponent had dodged in such a strange way. Six seconds had passed since Talia's scream; others in the inn had heard it, and some were starting to get up and investigate.
Even if that Captain Frien were to arrive, it would take at least another 15 seconds, the man thought to himself. He quickly dodged to a corner on the other side of the room and drew a short blade from his waist.
Fifteen seconds was enough to deal with a little girl like this.
The dark figure charged at the silver-haired girl again, the short blade in his hand difficult to detect in the dim light.
"Clang!" The crisp sound of metal clashing rang out in the darkness.
Indeed, an ordinary person wouldn't be able to see clearly in such an environment, but this silver-haired girl was no ordinary person.
Possessing the [Discernment Pupil], she could see that cold metallic glint even in the dark. Over the next ten seconds, they exchanged blows several times, the crisp clashing of blades particularly distinct in the night.
Noisy footsteps and shouts came from downstairs and the corridor, making the dark figure increasingly anxious. His movements became reckless, and a hint of savage ferocity erupted in his eyes.
I didn't want it to come to this, he thought with resentment. With a twist of his feet, his blood circulation accelerated, granting his muscles greater power, and he lunged at the silver-haired girl again with startling speed.
Facing her explosive opponent, the girl's eyes remained calm, as if she had long since entered a state of deep focus. She spun around, her short sword tracing a graceful and perfect arc in the darkness like a flashing crescent moon, striking the forcefully swung short blade.
Sparks and iron fragments burst into the night. The dark figure felt a numbness in his palm as the short blade was knocked from his hand. At that moment, the sharp short sword struck again, piercing through his shoulder bone. The coldness of the iron blade entering his body filled him with absolute terror.
"No, no, please." He knelt on the ground, hands pressed down, pleading for mercy in a panicked voice.
This time, Sylvia did not let him off easily. She withdrew the sword and pressed it against his neck again, but this time with the tip, which was stained with blood.
Viscous droplets of blood trickled down his neck and onto his chest. This strange sensation made him feel with absolute clarity that his life was hanging by a thread that could snap at any moment.
He was truly terrified and no longer attempted to resist.