In the afternoon, the scorching sun baked the earth. The air was filled with dust and the faint, almost imperceptible, scent of blood.
At the entrance to Black Stone Town, however, the atmosphere was anything but calm.
Bolin returned, travel-worn, followed by a group of sallow, emaciated refugees with numb expressions.
These were people of the territory, recovered from abandoned villages. Their clothes were ragged and their steps were faltering, as if a gust of wind could blow them over.
Only when they saw Black Stone Town’s new wooden walls and the faint signs of order within did a weak glimmer of light appear in their numb eyes.
"Lord."
Bolin strode quickly to Raylo, his face etched with unconcealed exhaustion and gravity. "The refugees have all been brought back and are being settled. It’s just..."
He paused, lowering his voice.
"On the way back, near the Withered Wood Forest to the west, I discovered a temporary bandit camp. It’s quite large. There were many campfire traces, so it looks like there are at least a hundred of them."
’Bandits!’
Raylo’s brow furrowed slightly.
’They’re here, just as I expected. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.’
As he was pondering this, the arrogant sound of hooves approached from the distance, interrupting everyone’s thoughts.
A man with a hideous scar on his face, clad in filthy Leather Armor, rode a scrawny, inferior horse, barging recklessly into the town entrance.
He roughly yanked the reins, and the horse pawed nervously at the ground.
The scarred man scanned the crowd with his vicious, narrow eyes. His gaze finally landed on Raylo, whose demeanor set him apart from the others, and his look was one of unconcealed contempt.
"Who’s in charge here?"
he yelled, his voice raw as spittle flew from his mouth.
"I’m the messenger for the Blood Wolf Corps! Our commander says that this land, Black Stone Territory, is under the protection of the Blood Wolf Corps from now on! The annual tax is one thousand Golden Dragons! If you know what’s good for you, deliver it to the camp in the Withered Wood Forest to the west within three days! Otherwise..."
He gave a savage grin and made a throat-slitting gesture.
"Don’t blame us for slaughtering this dump of a town!"
One thousand Golden Dragons!
The surrounding townspeople gasped, the color draining from their faces in an instant.
That was almost the entire annual tax revenue of Black Stone Territory!
These bandits were making an outrageous demand!
The Knights’ faces turned ashen, and some already had their hands on the hilts of their swords.
Raylo’s expression, however, was exceptionally calm, without even a ripple of emotion.
He looked at the arrogant and domineering messenger as if looking at a dead thing.
"Ed, take one of his hands," he said flatly.
"Yes, Lord!"
Ed stepped forward in response.
Though he had deliberately restrained the aura of a newly promoted Earth Knight, when he took that step, the solid ground itself seemed to sink slightly.
He didn’t even draw his Knight’s Longsword. He simply formed a blade with his fingers, coating it in a layer of condensed, earth-yellow Fighting Spirit.
A cold glint flashed! It was so fast, one could barely see the movement!
The symbol of an Earth Knight, Fighting Spirit Transformation, could be used to form Armor for protection or a sharp blade to injure enemies.
Everyone looked on in amazement, not expecting the Lord’s Personal Guard Captain to have already broken through to the realm of an Earth Knight.
"AHH—!"
The scarred messenger’s right hand, along with the reins he was clutching, was severed cleanly at the wrist!
The cut was as smooth as a mirror, and blood gushed out like a fountain!
The intense pain instantly twisted his features. He tumbled from his horse, clutching his severed wrist as he rolled on the ground, Wailing in agony.
"Get out!"
Raylo’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a heart-stopping coldness and authority that reached everyone’s ears.
"Go back and tell your master, you want Golden Dragons? Fine. Come and trade your lives for them!"
The messenger with the severed hand was already on the verge of fainting from the pain. Hearing Raylo’s words, he was scared out of his wits.
He fled Black Stone Town, scrambling and crawling like a beaten dog, leaving only a conspicuous trail of blood on the ground and the lingering scent of it in the air.
The townspeople stared blankly at the pool of blood, then at the calm-faced Raylo. In their hearts, the relief of their fear of the bandits was mixed with a sense of uncertainty and apprehension about the future.
They hadn’t expected their new young Lord to be so forceful.
"Mayor Buck."
Raylo turned to the old mayor, who had been silent all this time. "What do you know about this Blood Wolf Corps?"
Old Mayor Buck shuddered, snapping out of his shock.
He stooped, the wrinkles on his face seeming to deepen as a trace of memory and worry appeared in his cloudy eyes.
"Lord, the Blood Wolf Corps... they’re old bandits who have been entrenched in this area for many years. They started as just a group of roaming robbers, but in recent years, their power has expanded rapidly. They’ve absorbed many smaller bandit groups, and... and I’ve even heard they have the backing of a noble."
"Backed by a noble?"
Raylo raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Which noble?"
Old Mayor Buck shook his head, his expression growing even more solemn.
"That... That I don’t know. I’ve only heard some traveling merchants discussing it in private. They said the reason the Blood Wolf Corps could grow so quickly is that they always have a way to sell off their plundered goods. Also, the lords’ efforts to suppress them are far weaker than their efforts against other bandits. On top of that, the leader of the Blood Wolf Corps, a man nicknamed ’Blood Wolf’ Carl, is said to be ruthless and extremely cunning. He’s gathered a group of desperate men under him, so..."
Raylo fell into thought. ’Bandits themselves aren’t frightening. What’s frightening is the power hiding behind them.’
’If they were just a disorganized mob, I wouldn’t give them a second thought.’
’But if a noble is really involved... things become much more complicated.’
"Lord, what... what should we do now?" Bolin asked, a little worried.
Raylo looked up, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. His voice was calm but carried a convincing Power. "We do what needs to be done. The refugees must be settled as soon as possible, and the town’s defenses must be strengthened. As for the Blood Wolf Corps..."
The corner of his mouth lifted into a cold smile.
"I already have a way to deal with the Blood Wolf Corps. You just follow my orders."
’They want Black Stone Territory’s money, but they don’t know that I want not only their money, but their lives as well.’
His voice wasn’t loud, but his words were resolute.
"Ed."
Raylo spoke again. "Starting today, you will personally be in charge of Black Stone Town’s defense. Increase the patrols and closely monitor the Blood Wolf Corps’ movements. Report immediately if you notice anything unusual."
"Yes, Lord!" Ed’s voice was firm and powerful.
Raylo nodded and turned toward the Lord’s Mansion.
He left Ed to command the Knights and townspeople, who began to systematically set up the defenses.
Bolin, for his part, went back to settling the refugees, while Old Mayor Buck did his best to soothe the townspeople’s anxieties.
The sun sank in the west, the afterglow as red as blood.
On the outskirts of the town, the newly built wooden palisade cast long shadows in the setting sun, like the bared fangs of a Giant Beast.
Raylo stood alone by a window, gazing at the sunset in the distant sky.
Moonlight leaped onto the windowsill and rubbed against Raylo’s arm.
In the past few days, Moonlight, the "Grand Minister of Rat Catching," had performed its duties exceptionally well. Over a hundred sand rats had already died beneath its claws.