Ayla and Diell couldn't ignore the worry that gnawed at them as they watched Arthur venture into the cave on his own. They had unwavering trust in him, but the feeling of unease lingered like a shadow in the back of their minds. They knew they couldn't stand still.
"We can't just let him go alone," Ayla said, her voice laced with concern. "What if something happens to him?"
Diell nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting the same concern. "We have to make sure he's safe. Let's investigate the cave and the area above the river. Maybe we'll find something that can help us report on his findings."
The two friends began their cautious exploration. They carefully examined the cave, trying to find any clues that could shed light on what Arthur had discovered. Ayla noticed a strange patch of wet soil near the entrance, and as she touched it, her fingers came away smeared with blood.
"Blood?" Ayla's voice trembled with worry. "What happened here?"
Diell, with his keen sense of smell, leaned closer to the spot and inhaled deeply. After a moment of concentration, he confirmed, "It's not human blood. But it's fresh and strong. I can't identify the source, though."
The duo continued their investigation, determined to uncover any hints about Arthur's findings. They searched the area above the river, examining the ground and the surrounding environment, but found no further clues.
Meanwhile, Arthur had decided that he needed to travel as fast as possible to reach his destination. Instead of embarking on another arduous walk, he opted to seek transportation on the road. He stood by the side of the dusty path, extending his thumb in the age-old gesture of a hitchhiker.
Time seemed to stretch as Arthur waited, with countless vehicles passing by, none of them slowing down to offer him a ride. Frustration gnawed at him, but he couldn't afford to lose more time.
Just as he was beginning to lose hope, a group of mercenaries riding in a truck approached. The leader, a burly man with a dagger at his side, signaled for the driver to pull over. They had noticed Arthur's desperate plea for a ride.
"Hey, kid, what's your problem?" the leader called out as the truck came to a stop.
Arthur approached them, his face a mask of urgency. "I need to get to the town center as fast as possible. Can I ride with you until then? I'll pay you when we get there, I promise."
The mercenary leader eyed Arthur skeptically. "Payment? You better not be wasting our time."
Arthur nodded vigorously. "I'll pay you, I promise. Just get me to the town center, please."
After a brief discussion among the mercenaries, the leader agreed, "Alright, kid, hop in. But remember your promise."
As Arthur climbed into the truck, he took a quick glance at the four members of the mercenary group. The leader with the dagger, another man armed with a mace, and two women – one with striking blue hair, likely a polearm user, and the other with short black hair, carrying a gun. These weapons were not uncommon in the current era, reflecting the harsh and unpredictable nature of the world they lived in.
Arthur settled into the back of the truck, his heart racing with a mix of relief and apprehension. He was on his way to the town center, but he couldn't help but wonder about the group of mercenaries he had just joined.
The leader's sharp eyes remained fixed on him, a silent reminder of the promise he had made.
A sense of unease lingered in the air as the truck rumbled forward, leaving behind the desolate road and heading toward the heart of the city. The mercenary leader broke the silence with a question, his tone gruff yet curious.
"So, kid, what's so urgent that you needed a ride from a bunch of mercenaries?"
Arthur hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. He couldn't reveal the true reason for his haste, not to strangers. "I have some personal matters to attend to in the town center. It's a matter of great importance, and I couldn't wait."
The leader grunted in acknowledgment, seemingly satisfied with the vague explanation. The rest of the mercenaries remained quiet, their watchful eyes never leaving Arthur. It was clear that they were a tight-knit group, and he was the outsider in their midst.
As the truck continued its journey through the rugged terrain, Arthur couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious group he had fallen in with. Who were these mercenaries, and what kind of life had they led in this unforgiving world? The leader's burly appearance hinted at a lifetime of combat and hardship, and the mace-wielding man seemed equally battle-hardened. The two women, one with striking blue hair and a polearm, the other with short black hair and a gun, bore the marks of individuals who had adapted to the dangerous environment they lived in.
The silence in the truck became more pronounced, and Arthur's curiosity got the better of him. He turned to the leader and asked, "By the way, I never got your names. What should I call you?"
Gravik, the mercenary leader, glanced at the others and then back at Arthur. "I'm Gravik, the one with the mace is Jarek, the blue hair is Lyria, and the one with the gun is Maris."
Arthur nodded in acknowledgment, glad to have some names to attach to the faces. Then he couldn't help but ask, "What brings a group of mercenaries like you to the town center?"
Gravik's expression remained stoic as he replied, "Business, kid. There's always someone in need of our services in the city. We're just trying to make a living."
Arthur couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for their resilience. In a world where survival was a daily struggle, these mercenaries had found their own path. Jarek, the mace-wielding man, added, "We take jobs that no one else would. It's a tough world out here, and we've learned to adapt."
Lyria, the woman with the polearm, nodded in agreement. "We've seen our fair share of trouble. Sometimes you do what you have to do to survive."
Arthur couldn't help but admire their determination and their ability to navigate a world where danger lurked around every corner. He realized that they were not just strangers he had hitched a ride with but individuals who had forged their own path through the harsh realities of their world.
As they neared the town center, Arthur's unease began to ebb. These mercenaries were tough, but they seemed to have a code of honor among them. The journey with them had been an unexpected twist, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder if these mercenaries can be trusted and be a new allies.
The cityscape loomed in the distance, and Arthur knew that his path was still uncertain. But as the truck rumbled forward, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. He might reach Finn just in time. As they approached the town center, Arthur's thoughts were consumed by the mysteries of what really happened to Finn.