Looking up once more at the two individuals, Lance clearly remembered that his mentor had hired them as carriage guards. Their task was to escort him to his territory.
This perfectly matched the circumstances of the lord's two subordinates at the beginning of the game. It was such an outlandish coincidence that Lance felt as though an invisible hand was orchestrating everything from behind the scenes.
The one in knight armor was the Crusader, Reynard, and the one in the coat was the highwayman, Dismas.
In the game's backstory, their experiences were somewhat vague. The only certainty was that they were both ruthless men who had killed countless people. However, for some reason, they had embarked on paths of self-redemption, transforming from killers into protectors.
However, reality wasn't like a game where a click of the mouse guaranteed eternal loyalty. Whether he could retain these two would be key to opening up the situation. After all, the territory was anything but peaceful, and right now, they were the only cards he had to play.
Just as Lance was pondering this, a loud crack rang out from somewhere, interrupting his thoughts.
"It's gunfire!" Dismas, who had been dozing with his eyes closed, suddenly snapped them open, his gaze sharp.
Reynard, meanwhile, grasped his longsword. Although he remained seated, he exuded the aura of someone ready to charge.
"Bandits!" The butler at the front shouted and cracked the whip fiercely, trying to urge the horses to speed up and distance themselves from the attackers.
Stimulated, the horses bolted, their speed rapidly increasing amidst their frantic neighs. The jolting reached a level unbearable for ordinary people. Lance felt as though his brain was about to be scrambled.
But on this dilapidated road, high speed was not a good thing.
Before he could react, it felt as if they had struck something. The entire carriage seemed to become airborne, and the violent jolting momentarily ceased. But in the next second, it slammed down hard with a tremendous crash, then tilted and rolled onto its side.
The two men sitting opposite him instantly grabbed onto their seats to steady themselves and were not greatly affected.
But Lance, like someone without a seatbelt, was thrown violently against the carriage wall. Only when the two pulled him out did he recover from his dizziness.
"Are you alright?" Reynard's voice, deep and male, emanated from within his helmet, made even more muffled by the steel.
"I'm fine."
Ignoring everything else, Lance quickly got up to assess the situation.
His fears had materialized. At such high speed, even a small stone or a pothole could send the carriage flying. The subsequent crash had snapped the axle. The entire carriage overturned, scattering its contents—the original owner's belongings, merely some clothes and books—everywhere.
As for the butler and the carriage horses, they had long since disappeared. The butler had likely fled on one of the horses.
The old road, the carriage overturning... Lance felt as if his dormant memories were starting to attack him.
"The bandits will be here soon. We need to leave quickly," Dismas said, pulling out a flintlock pistol and beginning to load it. His eyes darted alertly, scanning the surroundings for any sign of the attackers.
"It looks like we still have quite a way to go before reaching the town," Reynard remarked, gazing into the distance where the ancient road was obscured by somber trees, making it impossible to see far.
"If we want to survive, we can't run."
Lance spoke, interrupting the two men who were discussing escape. His statement seemed somewhat counterintuitive.
"What do you mean?" Dismas asked, looking at him strangely, his distrust unconcealed.
Although Reynard said nothing, the questioning gaze from beneath his helmet intensified.
Both men's attitudes had clearly changed. Without a reasonable explanation, neither would follow him into what seemed like madness.
Lance, however, didn't seem to care much. If this wasn't an accident, then he already had a good idea of what would happen next.
"We have no carriage now, and we're unfamiliar with the surroundings. Are you confident you can evade the bandits on foot? Once they catch up, our physical and mental exhaustion will be immense, making the fight even harder. So, combat is unavoidable. If we want to live, we must seize the initiative."
"You mean you want to attack the bandits proactively? There are only three of us."
Dismas's words were actually quite polite. In reality, everyone understood that the true fighting strength was just the two of them. They also had to protect Lance, their seemingly frail employer.
"No," Lance slowly shook his head. "A large raiding party wouldn't be signaled by a single musket shot. For ambushes like these along the road, I estimate a small group of at most four or five. If our tactics are sound, this won't be difficult."
As he spoke, Lance turned to Dismas.
"How good is your marksmanship?"
"I never miss," Dismas replied without hesitation, clearly confident in his skill.
"I trust you," Lance said with a smile, then gestured to their surroundings as he laid out his plan.
"The tactic is simple. The woods on both sides are our natural camouflage. We'll lie in ambush and wait for the bandits to appear. The scattered goods will lure them to stop here.
"Then, I need you to shoot first and kill the bandits' Musketeer. Continue to reload and eliminate whoever you deem most threatening. Maximize the advantage of our surprise attack, and don't reveal your position too easily."
He then looked at Reynard to assign his task.
"When the gunfire sounds, I'll create a diversion on the other side to draw the enemy's attention. This will buy Dismas time to load a second round and also lure the bandits into our trap.
"Your armor is too conspicuous and hinders your movement. Therefore, I need you to lie in ambush in the undergrowth. When they are drawn in by my diversion, strike out and inflict as many casualties as possible."
Dismas had originally thought Lance's tactic would be for Dismas to lure the enemy away, while the Knight stayed behind to protect Lance, much like other employers he had served. He never imagined this man would actually take on the role of bait himself, placing himself in extreme danger and entrusting his safety to them. That long-lost trust felt unfamiliar, a sensation of blood pumping vigorously—he had forgotten when he last experienced it.
Lance, however, didn't seem to notice Dismas's unusual reaction and instead waited for Reynard's answer.
"No problem. The Holy Light guides me," Reynard said, raising his longsword. His action affirmed his willingness to undertake this perilous mission.
Hearing this, Lance finally heaved a sigh of relief. Without their Musketeer, the bandits would have to get past Reynard to reach him. So, the tactic truly required Reynard to confront the bandits directly, while he himself, despite seeming to be in peril, was actually not in much danger.
In less than two minutes after the carriage overturned, Lance had taken control of the situation. Then, the three men lay hidden in the dense woods on either side of the road, waiting for the bandits to arrive.