The Mother River surged forward, winding its way down, nourishing the fertile lands of the Upper Green Forest and the Lower Green Forest.
At this moment, a team of dozens of people was patrolling a certain section of the river.
Alan Sothos casually plucked a blade of grass from the roadside and bit it, exuding an air of carefree nonchalance: 'Actually… Colin and the others aren't entirely wrong. War is about hard power. The weight of the Davis Family is well known, and the experienced knights know to send scouts everywhere. If the Davis Family tried anything, like a sneak attack, it's unlikely to succeed.'
'So, the Davis Family doesn't have many choices left. Consider it from their position; the fastest way is to move through the battlefield quickly and attack the Sothos Family's vital points. Large troop movements through the forest would take too long, so the most convenient way is water transport!'
He looked at the Mother River, a slight smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
The Davis Family was upstream, and if they sailed downriver, they'd be very fast!
Although the main forces were on the battlefield, a detachment of about a hundred troops could completely bypass the battlefield patrol and reach the Lower Green Forest territory, or even launch a surprise attack on the castle!
'But if the surprise attack is discovered, it would be useless.'
What Alan had to do was simple: set up camp at a strategically defensible point along the river and establish a river checkpoint!
This way, if the Davis Family made a move, their sneak attack force wouldn't stand a chance!
Even if it turned out to be a false alarm, earning them a reputation for cowardice, it didn't matter—he had no intention of inheriting the family business!
And avoiding combat was naturally the best outcome.
'This way, the family's weakness is mitigated, and the Davis Family will be forced to fight desperately on the battlefield?'
'Also, considering the territory, are there any traitors involved? But without external reinforcements, there shouldn't be any major problems, at least not with the castle...'
Alan spat out the blade of grass, suddenly wondering if he was being too sinister.
Or perhaps, given the medieval-like culture and education of this era, were the nobles too naïve compared to his own darkness?
'Bah, bah, bah!'
Alan looked at Eight Fingers and Sanchez: 'How do you guys feel? Any resentment towards me for taking you away from the battlefield, losing the chance to earn spoils of war?'
'No, sir, we're very grateful to you!'
Sanchez quickly bowed.
He spoke the truth; the spoils of war were matters for the nobles and knights. Their desires were simple—just to survive!
Getting off the battlefield was naturally the best.
'If my guess is correct, this place is no less dangerous than the battlefield…'
Alan muttered to himself, rounding a bend in the river when his eyes suddenly brightened.
Ahead, the Mother River made a large bend, marking the boundary between the Lower Green Forest and the Upper Green Forest.
Moreover, in the middle of the wide river, there was an island made up of piled-up sand and rocks, standing four or five meters higher than the surrounding area.
'Perfect, this is the place.'
Alan surveyed the surrounding geography and couldn't help but be quite satisfied: 'We'll set up the water checkpoint here, guarding against upstream boats… By the way, does this place have a name?'
A bunch of illiterates looked at each other, and eventually, Grimm hesitated, 'I think it's called… Widow's Bay?'
…
In the dream.
Alan Sothos sensed the energy of that mysterious entity again.
'Use it all to strengthen myself.'
He gave an order in his consciousness.
In the next moment, a cool sensation roamed erratically in his awareness.
He was already familiar with this scene, but what followed was different.
Alan suddenly felt that the cool sensation turned scorching hot, as if boiling water was poured into his brain!
Pain!
The excruciating pain almost caused him to lose consciousness; if he had a body, he would have been writhing in agony and screaming.
Bang!
Amidst the endless whispers, his memory underwent a shocking jolt, as if brutally pried open.
A vast amount of memories surfaced!
He felt like a pure observer, his memory constantly regressing, seeing himself pretend to babble as a child, even going back to his infant days, six months, one month, birth…
The flood of memories pushed even further back…
It was a darkness, then a light.
Those were… past life memories!
'Why do I feel like I've developed hyperthymesia…'
Alan joked, and suddenly started reciting a paper he had seen in college, only skimming through it back then.
At this moment, he could recite it word for word!
'Photographic memory? Have I finally crossed a threshold, achieving mental extraordinariness?'
Over the years, Alan's memories of his past life had become quite vague.
But now, it was like having a library in his head, recording every bit of information he had seen!
'Amazing, I wonder if this ability can be brought back to reality. Maybe once I wake up, the memories will become blurry again. But it's okay... I can learn slowly in the dream, so this has brought me some benefits after all?'
A faint smile appeared on Alan's face.
But then his expression changed.
A creepy feeling, like a cold hand gripping his heart tightly.
'Danger!'
'No… not here!'
'It's… my real self in the waking world, in danger?'
…
The night was quiet.
Inside the tent.
Alan opened his eyes, and the creepy feeling instantly vanished.
'What's going on?'
'Could it be… that the danger is to my dream self? No, the dream self is back, that world can't hurt me anymore.'
He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, rolled over and sat up, deep in thought.
'This time in the dream, I finally awakened the dream self, gaining the abilities of [Total Recall] and [Danger Sense]… Then I sensed danger? It seems to come from reality…'
Alan took a deep breath: 'If the danger is in the dream, going back would be walking into a trap, but if the danger is in reality…'
He tightened his grip on his Cross Sword and quietly sneaked out of the tent.
Because during marching and warfare, he'd never taken off his outer garments and slept directly like this, he moved with simplicity and speed.
Outside the tent, under the misty moonlight.
Beyond a few campfires, Sanchez and others were sound asleep, even the sentries had disappeared.
'Something's wrong!'
Alan's eyes narrowed as he came to the edge of the camp, looking into the distance.
Under the hazy moonlight, he saw vague figures crawling toward them slowly!
'Attackers!'
Alan took a deep breath, instantly turned back, found Eight Fingers, and covered his mouth.
Eight Fingers struggled but couldn't make a sound. He opened his eyes and saw Alan.
'Don't make a sound, there's an enemy attack.'
Alan's voice was indifferent: 'Let's continue to wake the others and prepare for battle!'