Round 14: Confronting the Enemy

Forty-seven wasn’t as lucky as having a tracking expert guiding him. On the other hand, the lack of constant nagging from others made him feel relaxed and comfortable. It was already the fifth day, and he was still wandering through that vast, seemingly identical desolate wasteland.

Finally, something different appeared—a slope came into sight. Though not very high, it at least offered a slightly broader view, perhaps allowing him to spot something. Ideally, those despicable thieves would be over there, carelessly drinking and gambling, never realizing how much effort it took to track them down… Wait, there was something strange about this slope.

Looking down at the ground beneath his feet, it differed from other areas—either with a dense, solid soil layer or a rocky surface. The soil here seemed softer, with signs of disturbance, and even a few grass stems mixed in—yet there were no bushes or even a single blade of grass on the slope or nearby.

Had this been created by someone pushing it?

Forty-seven closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. He wasn’t sure if the new function in his eyes, similar to the infrared night vision gear he’d used before, could penetrate soil and rocks, but he had to give it a try.

Forty-seven’s worries were unfounded. Glancing down, he couldn’t help but smile. Humans truly are imaginative creatures. Beneath the thin layer of sand and stones, a human-like life form’s reaction was clearly visible. It turned out he had been standing on top of this poor wretch the whole time.

Forty-seven applied a little more force, and a faint sound came from below—like wood breaking. Hopefully, the guy’s waist wouldn’t break right away.

Ignoring it, Forty-seven unsheathed his great sword from his back and thrust it into the sand and stones with a sharp sound, piercing through the wooden board covering the man right between his legs.

Still, nothing happened.

What patience. I really want to see what you look like. With that thought, Forty-seven reached into the soil and rock, violently lifting the board covering him, then yanking the person underneath up. As stones and dirt fell away, a thin thief, as skinny as a branch, appeared before Forty-seven.

“Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! Hero, please don’t kill me!” The man’s head shook like a drum, his thin neck bending so much that Forty-seven feared it might break off.

“Open your murky eyes and look at the ruler of this demonic realm! If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll burn you to ashes with hellfire right now!” Forty-seven roared at the thief in Abazig’s tone, his wings flaring behind him like the fangs of a great serpent. The thief’s cheeks and collar were instantly blackened by the flames spat from Forty-seven’s mouth, stopping his frantic shaking.

This was a thief gang’s base. The thieves had gone out to rob, leaving someone behind to guard it. He had intended to go outside for some fresh air but, upon seeing Forty-seven approaching from afar, panicked and hid underground—only to be caught anyway. That was all the information the terrified thief could provide.

“Finally, I’ve arrived at this place.” Kastor flicked his ears a few times; the location of the rotating sentries was now roughly clear.

He signaled the two knights to move as quietly as possible toward the dead corner on the left, where his arrows were useless, and they had to rely on primitive methods to pry it open. Hitting three of them in the left eye and cutting off one head allowed them to advance a little further. By the fourth day, Josen and his team had found the thieves’ base—a ring of low buildings that wasn’t very tall but covered a large area. Yet Josen never expected that a band of thieves in the desolate wasteland would have hundreds of minions and such strict defenses. “How many are there this time?” Josen asked quietly of Castor, who had ears almost as good as sonar devices. “It’ll be a bit busier than before.” It was still the left eye—Castor drew another arrow, staring intently. Repeatedly changing positions, silencing themselves, and choosing the best hiding routes, Josen began to sweat slightly, but their efforts paid off well; they could now see in the corner of the square a few thugs playing with a captive. They were dressed differently, some of them in a complete mess, their dirty hands wreaking havoc on their pale skin. The naked woman ran around in panic, drawing mocking laughter and vulgar remarks from those present, with a few more chasing after her. And this was just one corner of the noisy square. “All of them are beasts.” The glow of the great sword appeared. Forty-Seven looked around, surprised to find such a fairly spacious hidden nest underground. Though small, it had everything needed—even a room door marked “Reading Room,” suggesting the thieves also made an effort to improve their standards. “Where are all the people you kidnapped from the guild’s stronghold?” Forty-Seven lowered his head and asked the trembling thief sitting on the chair in a vicious tone. “Guild stronghold? No, we’ve never been to the guild’s stronghold!” The thief kept shaking his head, as if not shaking it would mean his immediate death. “So they sent you invitations?!”, Forty-Seven grabbed the thief by the collar and lifted him off the ground. “Really! Our band of thieves is only a dozen people or so; we’d never dare target the guild’s stronghold. The soldiers there are all tough guys!” Just as it seemed the thief’s head would be torn off, it suddenly stopped: “Wait! I might know who did this. I’ll tell you right away—please spare me!” Forty-Seven threw him back on the chair and signaled him to continue. Meanwhile, a small object on the table next to them caught Forty-Seven’s attention. He picked it up and examined it carefully in his palm.

“The White Beard Bandit Gang! It must be them. Not long ago, they passed by here, carrying lots of goods and slaves, even a few night elves. They acted very arrogantly and boasted to me, but of course I didn’t take them seriously—I’m the leader after all… But the White Beard Bandit Gang is indeed a very powerful bandit gang. Our small bandit gangs can’t compare to them at all… Look, that thing in your hand is something they forced me to buy, claiming it’s a powerful new weapon. It cost me almost all my savings. That iron ball isn’t worth that much… To be honest, the members of our bandit gang weren’t out robbing on our own; we were recruited by the White Beard Bandit Gang. Uuuuugh, damn White Beard…”

“What’s the name of your bandit gang? Straw Hat Bandit Gang, or Clown Bandit Gang?” Forty-Seven suddenly became interested.

The man shook his head and stood up, then stretched out his right hand in an exaggerated idiotic gesture: “The awesome Head-Shaking Bandit Gang! I’m the leader, Head-Shaker Alexander! It’s an honor to meet you, hero…” By the end of his sentence, he started speaking in a subservient tone again.

In the square, the three trackers were in a fierce battle.

Seeing such brutal and evil behavior from the bandits, Milia felt an uncontrollable sense of justice, which led to reckless actions, putting the three of them in a difficult situation from which they couldn’t escape. As a result, they had to adopt a strategy of attacking from the center.

Fortunately, it was already dusk; otherwise, Castor might have just become a burden to the two holy warriors.

The henchmen flooding in like a tide did seem intimidating, but after all, they were just henchmen and couldn’t pose a real threat to Jason and the others. Intimidated by the powerful strength of the two holy warriors and one night elf, the henchmen mostly just made noise and rarely fought. But clearly, the closer they got to the center of the circular building complex, the more resistance they faced, and the henchmen they encountered stopped looking like mere henchmen.