The two-wheeled carriage, with traditional solid wood round wheels, ran clumsily and heavily.
The old, tired horse pulling the carriage didn't need the cave-dwelling chief sitting atop it to whip it; the horse strained its muscles and pounded the ground, pulling the heavy load forward.
In the wild lands of the north, there were no real roads, making it so a single carriage could carry at most a few hundred pounds of goods. Even so, the old horse struggled to pull it. Over rough terrain, the axle creaked, as if it could fall apart at any moment.
Sleeping on such a cart was far from comfortable.
But Waterstream slept soundly.
Once again, she dreamt of that mountain.
It was a low-lying range, the mountains enclosing an area like a massive eagle's nest, standing tall on the earth.
She had dreamed of this range many times, but oddly, in her memories, it seemed she had never actually been there.
Since she was young, she had roamed the Red Earth Continent with her teacher.
Across grasslands, rivers, mountains—finally reaching the plateau.
Along the way, her teacher taught her many things.
Like how to find edible wild roots in the wilderness, how to set traps to catch small animals, how to hide from leopards, how to run faster, climb trees, and even how to cross cliffs like a bird.
How to kill.
Year after year, they traversed the lands of the Plateau Tribal Alliance, visiting dozens of tribes. The women following her teacher increased in number. Her first kill was during an argument with a tribe's guard who insulted the women following her teacher. She lost control and accidentally killed him.
Before that moment, she had no idea that much of what her teacher had taught her was preparing her for this.
Her teacher did not scold her; instead, he gifted her a dagger.
Just an ordinary dagger, but one capable of killing.
She finally learned that everything she had learned had a cool name.
Assassination Techniques.
Once a peerless skill across the grassland tribes, but nearly lost after a war decades ago.
Later on, they arrived at the northern borderlands.
These wild lands technically belonged to the Plateau Alliance, but they were far from the plateau, filled with foreigners and adventurers, almost a paradise removed from the Alliance's reach.
Gone was the discrimination against the grassland tribes, gone were the tortures by tribal royals, gone were the lowered heads and trampled dignity—only endless wilderness and the rising renown of the Blood Rose Adventurer Group remained.
In the dream, a gentle mountain breeze carried a salty tang.
Waterstream stood barefoot on the mountaintop.
Her hair danced in the wind, her slim figure seeming light enough to be blown away, yet her feet were rooted in place. Her long legs, free of any hide or cloth, looked exceptionally fair under the blue sky, her toes spotless despite standing barefoot; each toe was perfectly clean.
Her lake-blue eyes, deep as a body of water, took in the valley before her.
Deep within the valley, lush green forests stretched out in all directions. Though she couldn't see them, she knew the hammering sounds were tribal craftsmen of the Grassland Alliance, forging weapons and hunting tools.
For some reason, in the dream, she felt a peculiar closeness to this valley, a place she had never seen before. It seemed that somewhere among those tents and tree-covered cabins, there was a place meant for her.
Was this…her homeland?
But where was it?
She looked around. There was none of the red-brown soil unique to the red iron rocks of the plateau, none of the vast tree crowns of the blackwood forest, none of the northern hills and seasonal wilderness—only endless green plains extending into the distance.
About her hometown, her parents, her people…
Her teacher had never told her, not even when she asked directly.
Before her teacher passed away, she had only given her a simple ring with a black stone, strung on a strip of hide and worn around her neck.
Her hand reached to her chest, feeling the simple ring and gently clasping it.
Inside, she felt a deep calm and peace.
Suddenly, she opened her eyes.
With no warning, she sprang up.
Whoosh—
Clang—
"Boss!"
"Watch out!"
"Don't attack!"
In just a blink, everyone had surrounded Kent.
At that moment, Kent was frozen on horseback, with Waterstream standing on the old horse's neck, crouched like a hunting leopard. Her left hand pressed on his shoulder, while her right hand gripped his throat.
The old horse stood still on the ground, unaffected, as if Waterstream's weight was nothing.
The pressure on his throat made Kent believe that if Waterstream applied just a bit of force, he would be saying goodbye to this world.
Waterstream's gaze passed over Kent's shoulder, fixing on Dry Leaf, who was perched on horseback beside the third carriage, bow at the ready.
Dry Leaf's second arrow was already nocked, bow drawn.
And in her mouth, she held the black-feathered arrow he had just shot at her; the black feathers at the tail still quivered slightly.
Dry Leaf was shocked.
His first arrow, fired quickly to intercept her, had not been his full strength, but it was not easy to dodge. Yet she had caught it in her teeth.
There was only one answer.
This woman's combat prowess had far surpassed anyone present.
Not having witnessed her battle with the Deep Diver guards, Dry Leaf didn't yet realize the extent of her strength.
But the others did.
They knew well that this tigress wasn't to be trifled with and that Kent had saved her life.
Now, with her inexplicably grabbing Kent, it truly seemed like betrayal—biting the hand that fed her, destroying bridges after crossing them.
"Don't hurt Kent!"
"Misunderstanding! It's just a misunderstanding!"
"Let's talk this over…"
These usually unruly men were suddenly humbled.
Haka Chak, seated on the horse pulling the cart, happened to look back and see this scene.
In that moment, he was filled with despair and wanted nothing more than to relieve himself.
The she-devil was even about to kill the godlike Kent; his little life would certainly be sent to comfort the elders in the cave.
Waterstream's gaze lingered a while on Dry Leaf's bow, then swept over the others.
Finally, she noticed that, apart from Dry Leaf and another archer, the others looked somewhat familiar—especially the guy holding the massive sword.