The small caravan, led by its owner, traveled along a relatively established trade route, passing by numerous villages along the way. At each stop, the caravan would pause to engage in lively trade, exchanging cloth, pottery, and other handmade goods for the villagers' agricultural products, which they would later sell in the cities. Despite the bustling market atmosphere, the goods the owner sold were all low-quality, leaving the profit margin quite slim.
But the owner always seemed to walk away with a wealth of gratitude.
"Thank you so much! It's a blessing to have someone like you visit our poor little village!" The elder of the village expressed heartfelt thanks. After all, this small, impoverished settlement wasn't located on a major road, so it was rare for any large caravans to pass through. Their supply of cloth and salt depended entirely on occasional transactions with small merchants like this one.
"No, no! It's I who should be thanking you for the opportunity to do business with you," the merchant leader said. He wore simple clothes, nearly identical to the villagers, but the expression on his face clearly signaled his higher status.
"Thanks to your help, I'm able to regularly buy some grain and dried fruit," the merchant added, once again expressing gratitude while directing his workers to prepare for the next leg of the journey.
Mike Bai watched the merchant with a mixture of interest and curiosity. Though the caravan's primary goal was profit, it was evident that it provided some convenience to the remote villages, ensuring the farmers had access to necessary supplies on a regular basis.
"Alright, everyone, hurry up! If you don't want to spend the night out in the wilderness with wolves and snakes, we'd better get moving and reach Beiji village before dark!" The merchant leader shouted passionately. Whether it was his words or his tone that spurred them, the caravan's workers picked up the pace, their hands moving quicker than before.
The journey was an endless march forward. Mike Bai and his companions followed closely behind the caravan, walking along a narrow forest path. Towering trees and thick bushes lined the route, with only slivers of sunlight filtering through the dense canopy above, casting an eerie, dim glow over the path.
Just as Mike Bai began to nod off, a loud shout suddenly snapped him back to full attention.
"Charge!"
A group of about ten bandits suddenly appeared from both sides of the path. Their clothes were ragged, their faces gaunt and hungry, and their weapons little more than farm tools like wooden clubs and sickles. They looked more like beggars than actual robbers, but the hunger in their eyes, burning with desperation, made them all the more dangerous as they rushed toward the caravan.
"This is trouble!" The merchant owner's face went pale with fear. He had assumed the caravan would be safe on familiar routes, and so hadn't hired many mercenaries. Including Mike Bai, there were only seven hired guards, with the rest being apprentices and hired hands—none of whom were armed.
With no choice, the merchant climbed onto his carriage, drew a short blade, and shouted, "Mercenaries, drive them off! Everyone else, gather around me!"
The apprentices and hired hands quickly rushed to his side, while the mercenaries formed a tight formation and charged toward the bandits.
Unprepared for an ambush, the mercenary named Guen stood frozen, unsure of what to do until a sharp tap on his back snapped him out of his daze.
"What are you waiting for? Get ready to fight!" Mike Bai's calm voice cut through the chaos, and Guen immediately tightened his grip on his spear.
Mike Bai and Guen quickly took up defensive positions, with Mike Bai standing in front of Anna to protect her while the two raised their spears, ready for the coming assault.
The bandits, upon seeing the sharp spears, hesitated for a moment before quickly flanking them, heading for the unprotected wagons instead.
"Kill them!" The mercenaries, wielding short swords and spears, charged into the mass of bandits. Though their armor was basic—leather and a helmet—against the poorly armed bandits, they held the upper hand.
The mercenaries, experienced soldiers, struck without hesitation. With a single charge, three bandits fell, blood staining the earth beneath them.
But more bandits managed to bypass the mercenaries, targeting the wagons where the merchant's goods were stored. Screams filled the air as they scrambled to steal the provisions.
"Protect the cargo!" The merchant yelled, panic in his voice. The wagons were his livelihood—if the goods were stolen, it would be a devastating loss.
The mercenary squad immediately split up, each pursuing a different bandit. Mike Bai took down one bandit trying to climb onto a wagon, and then turned to Guen.
"I've got this one covered. You watch over the other wagons."
Guen nodded firmly, and with his spear in hand, he dashed to another wagon where three bandits were loading sacks of grain. One of the bandits, panicked, tried to drop a bag of wheat, but before he could react, Guen's spear pierced his chest, spraying blood across the sack of grain. The bandit's face twisted in agony before he collapsed to the ground.
"Ruf!" Another bandit screamed in horror as he saw his comrade fall. Wielding a sickle, he charged toward Guen.
But the short sickle was no match for the long reach of Guen's spear. With a quick step back, Guen maintained his distance and jabbed forward, striking the bandit squarely in the chest.
In the bandit's stunned gaze, the spear's bloodied tip tore through his body, ending his life in an instant. The remaining bandits, seeing their comrades fall, began to retreat.
One bandit, carrying a sack of flour, turned and ran toward the depths of the forest, desperate to escape.
Guen took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. Just as he turned to catch his breath, he saw two more bandits rushing toward Mike Bai and Anna, perhaps because they thought Mike Bai was an easier target due to his smaller size.
A sharp gleam flashed in Mike Bai's eyes. He thrust his spear forward, striking the first bandit in the chest before he had time to dodge. The bandit crumpled to the ground, a look of disbelief frozen on his face.
Before Mike Bai could retrieve his spear, the second bandit was already upon him. The only thing behind Mike Bai was the wagon—there was no room to retreat.
Without hesitation, Mike Bai dropped his spear, crouched low, and drew a short knife from his waist. Like a predator ready to strike, he prepared himself for the kill.
The bandit, thinking victory was near, raised his axe high, ready to bring it down on Mike Bai's head.
But Mike Bai moved like a blur. Mimicking the movement of someone from his past, he darted forward, slipping past the bandit and carving his short knife across the bandit's side. The bandit let out a howl of pain, twisting wildly as he fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding side.
The bandit reached out desperately, trying to grab hold of the wagon's wheel to steady himself, but before he could, Mike Bai's knife found its mark again, plunging into his back and ending his struggle.