Just a day after sending the letter, the reinforcements from Quicksilver City arrived at Dawnsinger Town in the afternoon of the next day. The sound of horses' hooves came from far and near like thunder, and in the flying dust, a group of knights clad in silver-grey armour slowly appeared. Their armour had a cold metallic luster in the sunlight, and a diamond-shaped badge was embedded on their chests, with a suspended ore carved in the centre of the badge, and a light golden pattern flowing around its edges - this was precisely the symbol of the 'Knights of the Flowing Glory' of Flowing Stone City.
Vetril stood at the entrance of the town, staring at this majestic procession. With a thought, the status panels of the Knights immediately appeared before his eyes. Jack, who was beside him, excitedly stabbed him in the waist, with a tone of undisguised amazement, 'Look at that big guy! His hammer is bigger than the door panel of my house!' Before the words left his mouth, one of the men in the group suddenly swept his eyes in, his gaze as sharp as a knife, and Jack instantly shrank behind Vetril, muttering, 'He, he's glaring at people like he's trying to eat a child ...'
Just then, Gareth heard a noise outside the door and hurriedly straightened his clothes towards the town's entrance. His figure looked thinner than usual, and his brows were deeply furrowed, as if he had a premonition that something tricky was about to come.
Only to see the group come to a halt in the town in unison, the man at the head of the group rolled over and dismounted from his horse. His short grey hair stands up like steel needles, three claw marks run across his left eye, and his right arm is sheathed in a bronze gauntlet engraved with runes.Vetril curiously identifies it with the status panel:
Name: Leon Frostbite
Age: 34
Level: 21
Realm: Intermediate Knight
Comment: the captain of the [Knights of Phyrexian Rock - 7th Patrol], he is calm and collected, but unfortunately lost his arm.
Behind him is a woman with red hair braided into a battle braid, freckles dotted under the emerald pupils of her eyes, and wearing light armour with a longsword hanging from her waist.
Name: Adeline Firethorn
Age: 31
Level: 18
Realm: Junior Knight
Comments: A swordsman who specialises in flame enchantment, with a violent temper that is inversely proportional to the healing effect.
The remaining members are, in order, a giant two-metre-tall man carrying a tower shield of equal height and a giant hammer, with an aged bruise across the bridge of his nose; a woman half-veiled in a veil of silver silk, dressed in mage robes and holding a staff in her hand; and lastly, a scarred veteran, with a prosthetic leg fitted with a cog-joint in his right leg.
Name: Cole Rock Nail
Age: 40
Level: 17
Realm: Junior Knight
Comments: Weird power holder who can use a giant hammer as a throwing weapon, likes to chew on the edge of his shield when he thinks.
Name: Sylvia Shadowsong
Age: 29
Level: 17
Realm: Trainee Mage
Comments: A moderately talented young mage, but is proud of herself and is really a jitterbug at heart.
Name: Old Scar
Age: 39
Level: 16
Realm: Junior Knight
Comments: A scout who can pour kerosene into wine pots, retired and specially recruited due to burns.
Leon's voice was like sandpaper rubbing against iron, 'It's been a long time, Gareth.'
As he removed his helmet, Vetril was shocked to see the claw marks running from his forehead to his chin, making an otherwise handsome face look hideous.
Gareth looked like he was pinned in place, the knot in his throat rolling up and down several times before he made a sound, 'I didn't realise it would be you leading the team.'
Next to her, Adeline suddenly drew her sword and plunged it into the ground, the tip of the sword stabbing the dirt, 'So it's you, the remnants of the Dawnsinger family! Spare me the pleasantries, brother of the traitor! If it weren't for the city lord's orders, I should have you ... by now.'
'Adeline!' Leon raised a hand to stop him, the runes on his bronze gauntlet glowing faintly, 'The jury is still out on what happened fifteen years ago, not to mention he's implicated.'
Old Scar unscrewed the flask and took a gulp, the strong smell of kerosene filled the air, 'Back then, the youngest master of the Dawnsinger family was actually reduced to guarding the door to the countryside, it's really ...' He suddenly coughed violently, probably choking on his saliva.
The tip of Adeline's sword was always pointed at Gareth's throat, 'How many deaths did that traitor cause in Quicksilver City back then, even the Dawnsinger family was silenced without exception, leaving him as the only survivor! He is after all that traitor's younger brother, no matter what, he can't get out of it.'
After hearing this, Vetril felt his father's hand on his shoulder clasped like an iron vice, the pain and his father's discoloured face let him see the unrest in his father's heart.
Seeing that the scene was about to close, Cole Rock Spike suddenly heaved his equal height tower shield into the ground. The edge of the shield embedded itself three inches deep into the lapis lazuli. When he removed his helmet, the aged bruise on the corner of his forehead glowed purple in the glow-crystal light, 'Aedryn, your sword should be pointed at the Wraith, not at your trembling father.'
The giant man's voice was low and strong, instantly silencing the clamour.
'Tremble?' The tip of Aedryn's sword picked up the hem of Gareth's cloak, revealing the short-bladed scabbard he had hidden in the barrel of his boot - the crescent-shaped form inherited from the Dawnsinger family, 'Look at the tattoos! It's exactly the same as the murder weapon that was stuck in the baby's cradle at the scene of the massacre!'
Cole Rock Spike stood silent, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Aedryn and Gareth. His tower shield remained planted straight in the ground, as if a wordless boundary monument separating chaos from reason.
Gareth scowled, his hands shaking slightly, the short blades in his boots seeming to become a thousand pounds in that moment. He raised his eyes to Aedryn, and his lips moved, but no words came out after all.
Aedryn sheathed her sword and coldly swept a glance at the people gradually gathering around her, the anger burning in her eyes still seemingly unquenched. She turned to look at Leon, her tone still aggressive: ''Can't you see what he is hiding? The honour of the Order should not be protecting a would-be butcher!'
Leon's brow furrowed as the runes on his bronze armguard flickered with a shimmering light. He took a deep breath, his tone calm but undeniable, 'Adeline, suspicion and judgement are two different things. You have no right to wield a sword and point it at one of your own until you find conclusive evidence. What's more, we are on a mission, and every bit of chaos here will cause the people to lose trust in us.'
Aedryn's fists clenched, her gaze sharp as a knife, but in the end she just muttered in a low voice, 'I hope you won't regret it.' And then turned away.
As the sky gradually dimmed, Leon observed the last remnants of the sky slowly fade away, and decisively ordered his team to station themselves in place. Accompanied by the metallic clash of unloading armour and a clear division of labour arrangement, the Flowing Glory Knights quickly set up a temporary camp in the centre of the town. After the campfire was lit, Leon beckoned Gareth to walk aside with him, and the two walked slowly side by side in the open space outside the camp, as if two old friends were having a casual conversation.
'How have you been all these years?' Leon's voice was low, but with a hint of concern.
Gareth gave a slight lurch, as if weighing how to answer, and in the end, he just faintly said, 'Calm as water, perhaps this is the life I want to live, or perhaps I'm just a coward, desperately wanting to run away from everything in the past.'
'Calm?' Leon laughed, his gaze turning to the woodlands in the distance, 'People like us, we are ultimately the destroyers of peace, even if we seek peace, the past will always catch up with us.'
Gareth sighed and raised his hand to pat Leon's mangled right arm armour, 'I cannot change the past, but at least for now, I wish to keep my family and village safe.'
Leon didn't respond, just gazed at Gareth silently, as if trying to find some sort of answer on his face. After a moment of silence, he spoke, 'For tomorrow's operation, you may choose to stay behind. After all, you've wasted years since that incident, you're no longer a qualified knight.'
'No!' Gareth shook his head firmly, 'I will go in with you, after all, this is my home.'
Leon looked at Gareth's determination, so he nodded gently and turned towards the campfire, 'Then stick to the plan. Tomorrow may be tough, but I trust you.'
The two returned to the campfire, and Leon began to gather the town's discoverers with the knights, from which they would learn the details of the forest wolves' strange movements. Were the low howls coming from the forest in question already being heard in person? Do the tracks follow a fixed route? These questions are raised one by one, but the answers are full of contradictions, making people doubtful.
The cold wind of the night rolls up the dead leaves, and the light of the campfire reflects on the resolute and slightly tired faces of the knights. Despite their appearance of composure and calmness, each of them vaguely felt an unspeakable sense of oppression in their hearts. The plan for tomorrow was set: to enter the woodland early in the morning and track the wolves, yet it was never as simple as just tracking. Leon stood beside the campfire with his brows furrowed, his gaze sweeping over each knight as if he was weighing his next response strategy. In the distance, there seemed to be dark shadows flickering on the edge of the forest, as if foreshadowing the approach of an unknown crisis.