The biting cold of early spring has vanished completely, and the warm sunlight makes one feel comfortable, especially when followed by sporadic breezes. If it weren't for the occasional gusts stirring up dust and dried grass, this journey would feel more like a green excursion rather than a hurried trek.
However, neither the surroundings nor the traveling party bear any signs of lighthearted recreation. They move solemnly along a desolate path that sees little traffic, their silence mocking the fine spring weather.
This path, usually neglected and unkempt, is a lesser-known trail paved by black market merchants. They use this route to avoid the never-ending collection of road tolls, transit customs, trade taxes, health levies, poll taxes, and so on main roads. Knowing of it is limited, and no one bothers making it well-paved or noticeable. Travelers on this path, ensuring their goods are delivered exactly as they set out to, stay alert, constantly surveying their surroundings for anything even remotely suspicious, fearing the moment when ragged refugees, scruffy deserters, fully-armored soldiers, or flashy tax collectors would pop out of the bushes shouting, "Robbery!" or "Taxes!".
No one wishes to encounter the above-mentioned three characters: Bandits and deserters would undoubtedly loot all goods, sometimes letting the couriers leave, sometimes holding them ransom for a large sum, or occasionally killing all couriers and discarding the bodies. If tax officials catch them, they confiscate all goods and throw the tax-evading smugglers into the lord's prison, squeezing out every penny earned and leaving them to rot in their iron cages.
The smugglers, fearing any wrong move might spell impending doom, bring the oppressive and burdensome air into the woods, adding a somber touch to an already bleak corner of nature. If a claustrophobic were to enter this area, they would likely be shocked to unconsciousness. However, these travelers are unlike their usual, both in behavior and demeanor, with countless differences.
To Elves, who have grown accustomed to dealing with dark and deep forests, the current landscape is no different from their own back gardens. If anything, it's safer to consider this a peaceful pedestrian walkway owing to the absence of dangerous species. Accomplished hunters part the knee-high bushes, swiftly cutting down obstructive plants with their hunting knives. The carriages and livestock follow at a similarly slow pace.
"This reminds me of the first time I wandered into a valley. Looking at everyone endlessly hacking at these things, it's just dreadful."
While Thor complains, his hunting knife continues to cut down obstructions in its path. The sharp blade, almost the size of his arm, lets out a piercing whistle as it brings down branches and vines alike.
"You could actually go back to the carriage, we've got this."
Gottfried Wagner watches Thor's swinging arm closely, careful to avoid the overreaching elbow. He tries to protect himself from any potential major injuries caused by Thor's unintentional negligence.
Thor should be inside the carriage. Despite his bulky physique, there's enough room for him.
"This isn't working for you, Li Lin has already said he'd tutor you, right?"
Ludwig Hoffmann, another companion dodging elbow hits, joins the conversation. Thor's presence has turned their job into avoiding accidents more than anything. They decide to clear the air about Thor's secret, known to all.
'Underachiever,' uttered by Li Lin after seeing Thor's atrocious test paper, became Thor's latest nickname.
Although not intending to insult, when compared to labels such as 'excellent student' given to Brynhild, Tyr, and Freya, and considering the vast difference in their scores, Thor's self-esteem and confidence took a serious hit. He felt like an innocent boy forced into a humiliating play, becoming the center of attention against his will. These past few days, he had spent swinging his hunting knife to clear the path for the convoy, hoping physical exertion might liberate him from his depressive mood once and for all.
His self-torture strategy wasn't working at all, only wasted energy, and sweat. The cloud of dejection in his heart not only stayed put but seemed increasingly disheartening.
"This is terrible."
Wagner sympathizes with Thor, and himself too. As long as Thor remains so dejected, he and Hoffman must continue to endure the contagious heavy atmosphere, watch their mood take a hit, and remain on constant alert for Thor's elbow and hunting knife, unsure if the next accident will result in a bloody injury.
"Maybe.... accepting tutoring is a good idea."
Hoffman stops working. Thor and Wagner also pause, looking at the proposer's serious face, and showing no hint of agreement or belief on their own faces.
"You think it's an honorable thing being the only one left behind for extra lessons to re-learn everything that has already been taught?"
Thor's depressed mood pours out with his words. His rhetorical question sounds partially like reproach. For someone lowered-spirited as Thor, Hoffman's suggestion may come off as if he's reveling in Thor's failings, and that alone could trigger an outburst in someone with a bad temper.
"Is there a better option?"
Hofman adopted Li Lin's manner of speaking, imitating that antagonistic discourse that always blocks an escape route without providing someone with a choice.
Although the imitation wasn't perfect and the timing wasn't ideal. Nevertheless, Thor and Wagner were caught off guard, soon realizing there was no escape from the reality of their situation.
"As long as Thor's grades can improve..."
"The only way to improve grades is through extra lessons."
Wagner's consolation was interrupted and shattered. Hofman heaved a heavy sigh. Just a few minutes into Li Lin's role, the exhaustion had begun to spread to his shoulders. He couldn't continue the role-playing game that made a mockery of himself. He gently patted Thor's drooping shoulder, consoling him with pity and sympathy squared:
"Buddy, accept your fate. Since you can't escape or resist. Maybe try to think of this experience as something to be enjoyed and a necessary part of life. Perhaps it will bring you some solace."
Thor, reassured with the words of solace usually used by women who have experienced extreme despair to self-liberate, didn't feel any better. In fact, his heart had already plunged to the bottom of the abyss. His usually cheerful smile was now woeful, like someone who had lost an important relationship.
Wagner, who had been consoling Thor, didn't know what else to say. Thor, who could not be comforted, had no other choice, turned around, murmuring, "I can't escape," as he brandished his large hunting knife. The aura emanating from him changed from one of dejection to one of stoic sadness. To evade this heart-wrenching powerful aura and avoid getting injured, the two elves who failed to console him hurriedly retreated. They were completely out of ideas.
"Two ... No, three fools."
The exasperation in Freya's voice, from any perspective, seemed like it was forcibly suppressed laughter. The biggest jest in the little devil's heart was not the foolish conversations among the three boys, but Thor's 'violated' look ... If it weren't for the word being inappropriate for a girl to utter, she would have burst out laughing. The other men wanted to refute Freya and help their fellow men, but Thor's pathetic performance ensured all their protests would be in vain.
Three fools, this comment was spot on.
"... Maybe I should add a class on interpersonal communication."
A mumbled remark from the driver's seat drifted towards the used-to-be jovial elves, who immediately shuddered. One more class? By Mafa's sacred name! They already had Mathematics, Language, and Martial Arts. Furthermore, Language was further divided into three parts: Elvish Composition, Charlemagne, and Lapland. So they actually had five classes. The heavy coursework made them feel utterly exhausted in just a few days. Adding one more class was not simply adding a new name to the timetable, it could possibly be the final straw that broke their backs. Nobody wished for that apparently light straw to descend.
Anxious, eager, and hopeful eyes shifted to the figure concentrating on driving, awaiting the verdict of doomsday or the gospel. Blame was put on Freya in an instant. A few seconds ago, she was merely the 'mischievous honor student' who always caused headaches, but now, she was the 'culprit behind the sudden increase in coursework'. The silent accusations and resentment accumulated around her, almost materializing into a substantial black fog.
"... The recent coursework is a bit too rushed. Let's talk about it after a few days..."
The soft murmurs swept once again through the tense and suspenseful cabin among the elves, dissipating the resentful spirits as if blessed by divine salvation.
The world was still wonderful, the road of life still had light, it felt fantastic to be alive.
The Elves, filled with joy as if they were enlightened, were immersing themselves in the excitement of getting a respite, but none of them wanted to spoil their mood by pondering on the ominous 'after a few days' part of the sentence.
They knew they would be reminded eventually, everyone knew, such a casual remark by the driver would shatter their naive thoughts mercilessly and utterly.
That was Li Lin's style, he would definitely do it, only fools would think his words would remain as merely verbal promises.
The sober little devil, Freya, did not remind the happy, foolish boys. The terrible experience she had earlier had left her a bit upset and she had no inclination to do such a thing now. On second thought, she felt it was a good thing not to increase the coursework load even if it was only temporary. No matter how good a student, additional classes that took away private time created negative emotions. Even though it was clear that she too would have to deal with the additional class eventually, the expressions on the foolish boys' faces when they again hear that dreadful message and watch the verbal arrangement turned into a real burden ...
A sadistic smile crept across the little devil's face; her sparkling emerald eyes began to gleam with ill anticipation.