"Hey there, boss, you've got a keen eye. Out of all of us, I'm the only one wearing armor that's actually worth something," Kent chuckled. "But if I give you this armor, you'll have to give me some change back. My armor's worth 20,000 gold coins, so if I hand it over to cover your toll of two silver coins, you owe me..."
A chorus of chuckles came from behind.
"19,999 gold coins and 98 silver coins, chief," Crow called out loudly.
"Yes, yes, just like that, boss," Kent said, pretending to remove his arm guard. "Do you have enough gold to make change?"
"Are you messing with me?! 20,000 gold coins? Why don't you go rob a bank?" The one-eyed man raised his machete, pointing it at Kent as he cursed, "I'll take that armor of yours—and that lady too!"
His gaze landed on Waterstream. Despite their rough journey, her pale neck, long black hair, ample curves, slender legs, and bare feet that hung loosely from the horse stirrups, as delicate and pearly as mother-of-pearl, captivated him.
He swallowed hard.
"What if I'm not planning on paying? Will you let us through?" Kent asked.
"You could ask my axe if it agrees... Huh?" The bald man, about to answer fiercely, suddenly saw his axe vanish in a flash of shadow.
"Hey, Axe, do you agree?" Waterstream held the axe up in front of her, asking it with a serious expression. The axe seemed to nod toward her, and she turned to the bald man with a smile, saying, "The axe says it agrees."
The bald man's face went pale. Beside him, the one-eyed man raised his machete, cursing, "You little brat, causing trouble—believe it or not, I'll cut... Huh?" With a flicker, his machete was gone as well.
"Hey, Machete, do you want to cut me?" Waterstream held the machete in front of her, asking it with the same seriousness. The machete shook in her hand, and she looked innocently at the man. "The machete says it doesn't dare."
The two men's faces turned ashen.
Waterstream tossed the axe and machete back to them, her eyes now as cold as ice. Her old horse clopped forward, bringing her closer.
"You're just a few guard dogs daring to bark at me." From her horse, Waterstream looked down on them with disdain, her presence exuding arrogance. "Even that old fool Blood Hammer would have to step out to greet the Blood Rose."
Bl—Blood Rose?
The bald and one-eyed men swallowed hard, their throats convulsing.
Was it just them, or did swallowing this time feel... different?
"You—you're Lady Waterstream?" The bald man stammered as he looked at the approaching horse.
"What, do you need to check my ID?" Waterstream asked icily.
"N—no, that won't be necessary. Just that..." The bald man looked at the line behind her: a lone two-wheeled carriage, a few rough-looking men on different horses—and not a single woman in sight.
But wasn't the Blood Rose Brigade all women?
"Who are they..." The bald man pointed behind her with his empty hand.
"Oh, them? They have nothing to do with me. You can stop them and ask," Waterstream replied with a smirk as she passed through the checkpoint.
Who would believe they had nothing to do with her?
But if Blood Hammer found out they'd let a group of strangers through, it'd be his crew who'd be in trouble.
Grinding his teeth, the bald man raised his axe and blocked the carriage.
"Just doing my duty, just doing my duty. Before you enter the camp, you need to pay a toll... sir."
His tone had lost all its former rudeness.
"Can't we enter without paying?" Kent nearly laughed at his persistence.
"If you don't pay, you'll have to camp outside, leave, or..." The bald man stiffened his neck, "force your way in."
"Force our way in?" Kent was taken aback—did people actually request this?
"But don't go overboard!" The bald man quickly added, his voice growing weaker, "No killing. We settle things with fists—that's... Blood Hammer's rule."
"Understood." Kent nodded. He stretched out his hand, and a dark red flame rose from his palm. "Then let's try forcing our way in."
The bald man's jaw dropped. He looked ready to faint.
This bunch seemed like a ragtag band of adventurers, nothing remarkable in their attire and equipment, and anyone with real skill should've been obvious from a distance.
How could he have known that after years in the Spear Hunter camp, skimming off coins left and right, he'd misjudge someone this badly today?
A... a wizard?
Who would mess with a wizard? That's practically suicide!
Embarrassed, he looked back at the one-eyed man and their crew, who all exchanged pale glances before staring back at the bald man, their eyes filled with dread. Their looks said, Why didn't you just let them pass, boss?
The bald man's face twisted into a grimace, silently mouthing back, How was I supposed to know he was a wizard?!
The one-eyed man and the others' expressions grew more miserable, staring at him, eyes unblinking, as if to say, Come on, boss, say something. We're just standing here—it's not helping!
The bald man grimaced even more, moving his eyebrows to signal, I don't want to either, but now I don't dare to turn around. What am I supposed to say or do?
Everyone's faces grew more and more desperate, their expressions saying, How should we know, boss?
A glimmer of insight flashed in the bald man's eyes, and he rolled them, signaling, So... let's just...
Everyone paused, looking puzzled as if asking, Just what, boss?
The bald man rolled his eyes back, making a creaking sound as he collapsed to the ground, foaming at the mouth.
Everyone else stared, stunned. They exchanged looks of amazement, their gazes reflecting both awe at their leader's quick-thinking flexibility and an unspoken agreement: Let's follow the boss's lead.
One by one, the one-eyed man and the rest rolled their eyes, collapsed to the ground with creaks, and foamed at the mouth.
Leaving Kent standing with a fireball in hand, not sure where to throw it, the guard team members looking entranced by the strange spectacle, and a giant carrying a tree trunk who seemed thoroughly baffled.
Guard team satisfaction level: +270, +270, +270...