Three figures appeared amidst the ruins.
One of them had a sharp chin and gaunt cheeks, his eyes blinking frequently as he leapt out from the shadows and looked ahead.
"Nick, are you sure they’ve been here?"
"Of course." Nick’s eyes were a deep blue as he replied in a muffled voice, "I’ve been tailing Ayala and her crew for a full month. Besides, even if you don’t trust me, you should at least trust a rat’s sense of smell."
"Ben!" He turned to look at the last person. "Could it be the person the Brotherhood is looking for?"
"’Does it matter whether it is or isn’t?’ ’Ben’ responded with a cold laugh. ’A girl with no foundation suddenly rises to power in such a short time; how she did it is what’s most important.’"
"Don’t you want to know where she got all that food from?"
"Right." Nick nodded. "If we had her channels, even if we didn’t join the Brotherhood, it wouldn’t be a loss."
No! By then, it wouldn’t be them trying desperately to join the Brotherhood; rather, the Brotherhood would be pleading for them to join.
Although at first they were commissioned by the Brotherhood to find Redhead’s murderer, that matter was now insignificant compared to the investigation at hand.
With that thought, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.
"First, let’s confirm if this is their trade site. If it is, tell the leader to get ready."
’Ben’ stretched his limbs. "I’ve had enough of that damn girl."
"So..." one of them said, "you came here for Ayala?"
"Of course." ’Ben’ nodded subconsciously, then suddenly spun around, his face a mask of surprise as he looked in the direction of the voice, "Who’s there?"
Carl emerged from the darkness, fixing his gaze on the three men, his expression slightly relaxed. "At least it’s not the worst outcome."
It seemed Ayala had not betrayed him, and even the people in Ayala’s group hadn’t conspired with outsiders, indicating he hadn’t chosen poorly.
It was worth standing guard here for two days.
"Attack!" Nick growled lowly, lunging forward, his hands waving as several sleeve arrows flew out ahead of him.
The other two were a little slower to react, but the harsh conditions of Black City had taught them to make instant decisions.
Following Nick, they charged at Carl, one in front and one behind.
Discovering someone lurking in the dark, they immediately chose to strike, and to strike to kill.
Carl chuckled softly.
Zero-Circle Magic—Minor Spell Power Field!
As his spiritual power increased, so did the potency of his witchcraft, an invisible force field enveloping the surroundings.
Instantly, the incoming arrows slowed to a crawl three feet from Carl, as if piercing through water, their movement hampered by a strong resistance.
CLANG... With a casual swing of his broad sword, the arrows were knocked away.
At the same time, Carl snapped his fingers lightly with his left hand.
A glaring white light burst into existence. The three attackers instinctively closed their eyes, their reactions momentarily stalled, completely disrupting their movements.
WHOOSH... Carl pushed off the ground, moving as swiftly as a bird, his broad sword whipping up a gale as he charged at the three men.
Hawk Strike! Gale Swordsmanship!
He didn’t hold back, striking with his signature Battle Skill.
Several afterimages appeared from nowhere, merging with the broad sword itself, enveloping all three men in an instant.
The pressure from the Minor Spell Power Field made their movements sluggish, rendering them unable to organize a decent defense against the onslaught.
In just a moment. SPURT! SPURT! SPURT! Blood sprayed.
"Ahh!" Nick screamed skyward as he violently shook his hand, and a sharply tipped chain shot out from his sleeve.
CLATTER... The chain danced through the air, managing to cause Carl’s movements to pause slightly.
But that was all. The sword shadow contracted and expanded, and a head soared high into the air. The headless body gushed blood a foot high before collapsing to the ground.
Carl, covered in blood, crouched down and asked, "So, the Brotherhood’s Redhead was killed, and they couldn’t find the murderer at once. Therefore, they entrusted you, the local toughs, to help investigate, promising that if you found the killer and avenged Redhead, you could join the Brotherhood."
"In the course of the investigation, you discovered that Ayala was making a secret transaction with someone, so you turned to investigate the transaction?"
"Correct," Ben, covered in blood, said with anger, "You killed Redhead! The Brotherhood will never let you go, and the leader won’t let Ayala and the others off either!"
"You all... must die!"
From his condition, it was clear he had suffered considerable torture. He knew he couldn’t escape his fate; his angry roar was merely a plea for a swift death, a release.
"Perhaps." Carl nodded. "Too bad you won’t be around to see it."
As his words fell, the broad sword swept by. Ben’s body stiffened, the light in his eyes faded, and he fell backward to the ground.
After killing the three men, Carl didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he took a whistle from his person and blew it forcefully.
TWEE... The sharp whistle spread into the distance.
Ayala and Little South leaped out from a nearby crevice, looked around, and headed straight for Carl.
"Uncle..." Ayala looked at the bodies on the ground, her eyes showing surprise, "What happened here?"
"Someone’s been tracking and investigating us," Carl said slowly. "Their leader is called Iron Fist Abei. Have you heard this name?"
"Iron Fist Abei?" Ayala’s face changed, her eyes darkening. "Of course!"
"He’s the local tough at Laka Market, owns over a dozen stalls, and he’s been causing us trouble lately."
It didn’t surprise Ayala that she was targeted.
But the fact that they found Carl meant their transaction might have been discovered, and this concerned the life and death of their small team.
Carl looked at Ayala and asked, "What do you plan to do?"
He didn’t mention that the incident was related to him killing Redhead. Instead, he wanted to see how Ayala would handle the current situation and whether her response would satisfy him.
"Uncle." After a moment of silence, Ayala suddenly said, "Little South has become a Knight’s Attendant now."
"That’s right!" Little South, standing nearby, patted his chest. "Uncle Carl, I’m a Knight’s Attendant now."
A Knight’s Attendant? Carl’s eyes flickered. This was indeed beyond his expectations.
However, Little South’s physique was exceptional. Though just over ten, he was stronger than many adults. Coupled with Old Lev’s instruction in breathing techniques and Martial Arts, and being well-nourished recently, it was only natural for him to become a Knight’s Attendant.
"So..." He looked at Ayala. "What were you trying to say?"
"I was trying to say..." Ayala said, word by word, "I am no longer the little girl who can be bullied by anyone!"
Upon hearing this, a smile involuntarily appeared on Carl’s face.
The stronghold of Iron Fist Abei was not far from Laka Market. He and his twenty or so men occupied an old, dilapidated manor.
Figures appeared in the vicinity, completely surrounding the manor.
"Iron Fist Abei has two top experts with him. Including himself, that’s three Knight’s Attendants. They are the strongest among them."
"However, Abei loves to drink. He drinks every day and gets completely drunk every time. Regardless, his combat ability will be greatly diminished after drinking."
Ayala said in a low voice, "Wait for the right moment, and we’ll rush in. Take out his helpers first, then gang up on Iron Fist Abei."
"Uncle." She looked at Carl. "Please keep watch from the side."
These past few months, it wasn’t just him who had grown stronger; Ayala had as well. Moreover, they had brought help for this mission.