After running relentlessly along the path, Gravel and Iris finally arrived at the site of the carriage ambush, as described by the coachman.
At the bottom of a gentle slope, dozens of people were locked in fierce combat, weapons clashing against one another. As the coachman had mentioned, it was easy to distinguish the sides. One group wore uniform armor and helmets, clearly resembling regular soldiers, while the other was a ragtag band clad in a chaotic mix of leather and chainmail armor, with no apparent consistency. There was little need to guess which group was the band of bandits.
However, the soldiers, despite their disciplined appearance, were at a numerical disadvantage. Surrounded by dozens of enemies, they were being pushed back toward the carriage, their weapons locked in a desperate struggle.
The carriage the coachman had been hired to drive was visible as well. Atop it stood the female mage he had spoken of. With a wide-brimmed, pointed conical hat, a black robe, and long orange hair flowing as if cascading from beneath her hat, she was unmistakable. She was the only one wielding magic on the battlefield, erecting a magical barrier around the carriage to deflect incoming flaming arrows and torches. Even from a distance, her presence was striking.
The knight in ornate armor, also mentioned by the coachman, was equally easy to spot amidst the chaotic battlefield. Beside the road where the carriage stood, a small hill rose, and atop it, a knight clad in a silver breastplate adorned with intricate patterns and a helm crowned with vibrant feathers was charging toward an enemy.
The figure on the hill, toward whom the ornate knight was charging, wore armor that, while not as splendid as the knight's, was noticeably better than that of the other bandits. Though not ostentatious, the man's appearance exuded a rugged confidence: brown hair spilling from beneath a grayish-brown helm, a neatly trimmed beard, and a wide, carefree grin as he looked down at the knight below. His upper body was protected by a metallic half-plate, and his helm, originally designed to cover the face, had been modified, with the visor and cheek guards partially removed, giving it a distinctive look.
From this, Gravel deduced that the man on the hill was likely the leader of the bandits attacking the carriage.
"Hey! You there!"
As Gravel surveyed the battlefield, a man approached, pointing a sword at him. The blade, still dripping with sticky blood, gleamed as the man cautiously closed the distance, keeping Gravel in his sights. His armor was stained with fresh blood, and after wiping the sweat from his face with a shrug of his shoulder, he called out to his comrades.
"Over here! Two of 'em!"
At his shout, five others, who had been heading toward the mage's carriage, turned and advanced on Gravel and Iris.
"You two are out of luck today. Normally, we'd let passersby go, but…"
"Yeah, I suppose so."
Gravel replied nonchalantly, his eyes still fixed on the carriage, ignoring the bandit's feeble threat.
"Our boss said no witnesses today."
With those words, the bandits lunged at Gravel and Iris.
"Hmm… I'd really like to head toward that carriage."
Gravel mused, his tone casual, as if the charging bandits posed no threat at all. For a moment, he wondered if his time in Froikton had made him arrogant, having faced countless foes far weaker than himself and Iris. But Iris's next actions quickly dispelled that notion.
"Arghhh!"
Iris drew her sword from its scabbard, cutting down the bandit wielding a bloodied sword who had charged at Gravel first, along with two others behind him gripping spears. Though the two spearmen were beyond the reach of her blade's length, and even before they could bring their spears to bear, their arms and torsos were severed from their bodies, collapsing to the ground with a dull thud, lifeless.
A shimmering silver aura flickered around Iris's sword. The radiant energy that enveloped the blade solidified, forming a sharp, cohesive edge.
The remaining three bandits froze in place, stunned by the sight of their comrades' dismembered bodies. Unsure of what to do, they could only raise their weapons toward Iris, trembling.
"Hiiiik!"
"W-What just happened…?"
Gravel's unshakable confidence in Iris meant that minor threats like these barely registered. He was certain his demeanor wasn't born of arrogance but of trust in her skill.
"Bandits, if you get any closer than this, you'll end up like them." Gravel said, pointing to the mutilated corpses on the ground as he began walking toward the carriage.
Iris matched his pace, her silver-gleaming sword still in hand.
'That glowing sword of Iris's… I think it's tied to reaching a certain level of sword skill. Will I ever reach her level someday?'
Gravel thought, momentarily captivated by the shimmering aura around her blade. He paused briefly, staring in awe, before resuming his stride toward the carriage.
The three remaining bandits, desperate to avoid Iris's blade, kept their distance, retreating cautiously as Gravel advanced. Though they tried to muster the courage to stand their ground, one finally threw down his weapon and fled. The other two quickly followed, discarding their weapons and running after him.
"For now, we need to get to that mage on the carriage." Gravel said.
With no immediate threats remaining, Iris sheathed her sword.
"Alright, Iris. Until we reach the carriage, cut down anyone who gets too close, just like before."
"Yes, Lord Gravel!" she replied.
"By the way, you've got to teach me that."
"Hm?"
"That white light thing… Never mind, I'll ask about it at our next training session."
*****
"You there, the one who looks like the leader of this rabble! I, Dervin of the Verde Barony, challenge you to a duel!"
The knight in ornate armor clattered up the hill, his metal plates clanking with each step, shouting as he advanced.
The man atop the hill, presumed to be the bandit leader, stroked his beard with his thumb and forefinger, gazing down at the approaching Baron Verde with amusement. When his archers beside him raised their bows to take aim, he waved them off, as if acknowledging the knight's courage with a show of chivalry. But then…
"Hmm, this should do it."
He picked up a large rock he'd been resting his foot on and rolled it down the hill.
"Rockslide!" he called out.
Hearing the warning, Baron Verde lifted his helm's visor, spotted the rolling boulder, and swiftly dove to the side, narrowly avoiding it.
"Ugh, did I just give it away by shouting?" the man on the hill muttered, kicking the ground in mock frustration, a playful grin on his face.
"Huff… huff… I, Dervin of the Verde family…" Baron Verde panted, trying to catch his breath.
"Alright, alright, take a breather. No rush… Actually, while you're catching your breath, Baron Verde, I'll introduce myself. Ahem. I'm Gulick de Louss, leader of this mercenary band disguised as bandits. A pleasure to meet you, Baron."
Gulick knelt on one knee, offering an exaggerated, theatrical bow to the baron.
"Ahem. Then, I, Dervin Verde, formally challenge Sir Gulick of House Louss to a duel."
Raising his helm's visor, Baron Verde drew his sword, placed it across his chest, and saluted Gulick in the manner of a knight.
"Haha! Is that how knights greet each other? Unfortunately, House Louss fell to ruin ages ago."
"Then let us begin!"
Baron Verde charged, extending his sword arm and rushing forward, relying on the protection of his thick steel armor—a classic knight's approach on the battlefield. As he closed the distance, he raised his arm and brought his sword down toward Gulick.
"Oh? Is that what they teach at knight school?" Gulick taunted, drawing a long sword that had been leaning against the ground. With a sharp metallic ring, he parried the baron's strike.
"Gah! What—!"
The force of Gulick's counter nearly made Baron Verde lose his grip on his sword, his face contorting beneath his helm.
"I thought the knights of the northwest would be better than the fools in the capital." Gulick said, swiftly drawing a dagger from his waist with his free hand and thrusting it into a gap in the baron's shoulder armor.
"Argh!"
Baron Verde swung his sword again, forcing Gulick to step back.
"Not bad, I suppose, compared to other noble pigs." Gulick remarked.
"A… splendid attack… targeting the gap in my armor…" Baron Verde said, glancing at his wounded shoulder before steadying his stance.
"That was just one strike. It'll take more than that to bring me down, Sir Gulick."
As Baron Verde charged again, he suddenly faltered.
"Urgh! What… is this…?"
He stumbled, barely able to stand, as dizziness overtook him.
"Oh? You held out longer than most. Usually, even a scratch from this would paralyze your limbs." Gulick said, inspecting his poisoned dagger as he addressed the staggering baron.
"Poison, as I suspected! Gulick, using poison in a duel?!"
"You can still talk? Impressive for a knight. This is some potent paralytic poison, you know."
"Grr… my body…"
Baron Verde's sword slipped from his grasp, and he collapsed to his knees, struggling to move as the poison sapped his strength.
"Too much for you? I told you, it's strong stuff. And I don't see any issue with using poison—except when I'm hunting for food, of course."
"…..."
Baron Verde, hands pressed to the ground, head bowed, glared up at Gulick with gritted teeth.
"Haha! I showed you some mercy since you're a noble. See this other dagger? It's coated with a poison from some southern desert snake—can't remember the name, not that it matters. One scratch, and you'd be dead before taking ten steps. You should be grateful for the paralytic poison."
Gulick gestured to the array of short scabbards at his waist as he approached the kneeling baron.
"Gulick… I won't forget this… cowardice…"
Unable to hold out any longer, Baron Verde collapsed to the ground.
"Well, a baron might fetch a decent ransom. At the very least, it'll cover a few nights of drinking." Gulick said, signaling to his men waiting in the distance.
"Now, thanks to our noble friend, this job's nearly done. The real problem is that witch down there."
Gulick strolled to the edge of the hill, peering down at the carriage below.
Around the carriage, armed soldiers and the female mage were holding their ground, the mage's magical barrier shielding them from Gulick's men. Several wounded soldiers leaned against the carriage, resting, while others, following the mage's orders, helped their comrades retreat toward the vehicle.
"This is getting tricky. Guess I'll have to head down there myself."
Gulick muttered, narrowing his eyes and sighing as he looked at the scene below.