Chapter 27

Clifford's gaze wandered through the line of people they were with. He remained agitated because several functions of his system were no longer working, not considering they can steal it.

No matter how many times he’d look at them, he can’t see their level, status, or any kind of information.

Luckily, most of the men there were weary and wounded, giving them an equal footing if ever something happened.

Of course, it seems he was not the only one remaining cautious, as the group threw menacing glares at them.

He did not blame them, considering the outfit he’d chosen for them during their travel. They all wore long black robes, light armor, and a set of masks, each having a certain expression of its own.

Hallor a smily, Galford a sad, and he was the one with the poker face.

To avoid any problems, they remained in the middle of the line, surrounded by all those soldiers.

“I did not think you’d choose the bandits over the knights. What made you change your minds?”

He whispers to the two, needing something to get his mind off of things, cause his chest continued to pound from uncertainty.

“It’s those people, sir.”

Galford bob his head to the individuals they save.

They were mostly women and children, except for a few elderly men. All of whom had smiles and color in their demeanor, even though they were walking for quite some time.

“What about them?”

He utters.

Not understanding what exactly got them changing their minds at the last minute.

“They’re like us.”

Hallor’s voice remained grim, his teeth clenched. Angry that they did not find anyone from their village there.

“What could be the reason they were being held captive?”

Clifford brushes his chin while pondering.

It could not have been a coincidence that there were other people being taken too. He tried to make sense of it all, but he could not come up with an explanation.

All three of them ended up halting upon seeing a person waiting upfront. A patch on one eye, unkempt hair, and a stubble. They can’t help but squint their eyes at the guy, noticing how he looked at them with a long frown.

“You, our boss, wish to have a word with you.”

The man says with utmost authority, along with a loud scoff.

The surrounding soldiers grab on to the hilt of their swords, at the ready to draw their blades.

“We better move.”

Hallor mutters, not wanting to lose his temper since his nearing his limits.

“Should we keep these disguises?”

Galford turns to Clifford, who stayed in the lead as they followed the man.

“We need to remain as discreet as possible.”

He fixes his mask, making sure it was all right. After all that had happened, he didn’t want anyone to see them, knowing the dangers it can bring.

“They may consider it disrespectful if we do not show our face.”

Galford advises him of the consequences.

Of course, he was aware of that, but he just didn’t want to risk such a simple thing, especially since he can make an excuse for it.

“Someone might recognize us. Even with your strengths, we will be no match for a battalion of high-level knights, considering my current condition.”

This was what he feared.

With his makeshift body. Everything had presets and limits, unlike he’s real one. He could only load it with specific skills and strength, but could not have levels beyond those he had not encountered.

“And what will we do if they do something unsavory?”

Galford swallowed hard at the idea.

“The same as before, we escape.”

Clifford says, with no hesitation.

His teleportation ability was now finished with its cool down, so he was confident they can get out of there without the need to fight.

They paused their conversation when they got near the group that lead the entire caravan. Surrounded by several well armored men.

All three were keen to recognize it as the brave hooded individual who took on the steed by himself, the one who risk his life in order to let the others escape.

“My lord. I have brought them here.”

The fellow who called them gave a bow to get the man’s attention.

“Good day, to you.”

Clifford copied what the other person did. But with a more slow and subtle gesture of his hand.

“Insolent fool, how dare you speak without taking off your masks?”

Eye-patch guy snaps, immediately drawing his sword.

Clifford readied his spell for escape. But the energy it released created a ripple through the air, and the sudden reddening of his eyes gave this ominous sensation towards the others.

This cause most of the soldiers to back off, all of them trembling and sweating from feeling the weight and tension in the atmosphere.

He did not waste this chance of unraveling the so-called men.

“I think it is only right that you remove your coverings first, before asking us to do so. Especially after we saved you.”

The man grumbled, fist clenching, as he threw them a murderous glare.

Clifford waited for any kind of reaction. Before the guy could even do anything, their leader move forward, raising a hand to stop his subordinate from acting.

“Let me apologies for my men’s crude behavior.”

The so-called head of the bandits did not hesitate to remove his mask.

Unlike the eye-patch person, their boss wasn’t the same.

With a deep pair of eyes, fair skin, a perfect pearly white set of teeth. Along with his being brushed up and his robes not showing any signs of tatter.

He looks rather elegant and dashing, even with those roguish clothes.

“First, I’d like to thank you, warriors, for coming to our aid. If it was not for your help, we would have all perish, and our rescue would have failed.”

The man was now the one bowing to them.

Taken by surprise with the act, Clifford’s interest grew.

“Who are these people?”

He gestures a hand to the now resting refugees.

A challenge and test to see how far the person can be polite, along with how much they could divulge.

“They are simple villagers hiding within the forbidden forest.”

With a smile, the man looked to where he pointed.

“Why are they being held captive?”

Clifford asks again. Hopeful for any information.

“The kingdom considered them deserters after leaving their village.”

The man’s expression turned dark, a slight glint of rage flashing in his eyes.

“I thought there was only one?”

Clifford was keen to say that out loud, raising his hand to silence his two companions upon noticing how their shoulders tensed.

Luckily, nobody there notice it, thanks to the effect of the cloaks they were wearing.

“That isn’t true. Brisfork has several sovereign villages. All of them are near the edges of the forbidden land, marking the kingdom’s territory.”

The leader states, heaving a deep sigh as he narrated the situation.

“May I ask who claims the accursed forest, then?”

Until now, it was the one thing that boggles him.

That got the leader silent, pondering for a few moments before answering.

“It’s considered as no-man's-land. Only the area close to it is being contested.”

The leader’s tone became more stoic, somewhat informative even.

“But isn’t the place dangerous? Why bother with it?”

This time, Clifford could not hold his brow from rising.

“The territory is rich in resources beyond imagination. If it wasn’t for the guardians of the forest, many of the surrounding kingdoms would have battled for it.”

A shadow appeared on the man’s face.

Clifford grinned, somewhat having an idea.

“I see. Then who might you be? You seem to be too decent and knowledgeable to be just a lowly thief.”

He points out the obvious, causing everyone there to stutter and gasp.

Several of the guards standing beside the leader were quick to draw their swords, and the eye-patch guy now pointed his at them.

“How dare you! After we allow your impudence, you still have the gall to say those things.”

The man scoffs. Brows nearly touching each other from the deepness of his frown.

“Stop it, Dallor! These are our saviors. Unknown as they may be.”

A single hand raise was enough to put the men to a halt. None of them dare speak or step out of bounds after getting glared at by their leader.

“Maybe it is best that we part ways here. We still have things to do.”

Clifford dismisses the thought, not wanting to push his luck any further.

“You think we will allow you to leave that easily?”

Dallor, the one with the eye patch, takes a step forward, teeth gritting while he threw a murderous gaze at them.

At that point, Galford and Hallor both sense the animosity and were keen to move upfront to shield Clifford.

This resulted in the others joining in as well, causing an immense to brew from the sudden standstill.

“Enough! I will not repeat myself.”

The leader’s voice thundered through the entire place, making the soldiers and refugees flinched. All eyes were now on them, gathering the attention of everyone there.

It took the leader one deep sigh to calm his nerves, and upon opening his eyes again, he was much more composed. All onlookers were quick to avert their gaze once they saw that.

“I apologize for my subordinate’s inappropriate behavior. Our group is but simple people, made up of laborers, freed slaves, and farmers.”

The leader continued, gesturing to his men.

But Clifford’s eyes were on the guards alongside the fellow. As they emitted this sense of confidence. From their straight posture, to the way they draw their swords, there was an air of experience and skills that came with it, similar to Galford.

He sets that aside, not needing to instigate another reaction, as the men there remained tensed.

“And what is your purpose, gathering this much soldiers?”

He shifts the conversation, wanting to satiate his intrigue he had with the group, along with seeing how far they were going to hide things.

“We’ve rallied in secret in order to save our people from the kingdom’s oppression.”

Eye-patch was the one who spoke for his boss, as the man ended pursing his lips. It seems the fellow noticed how he was being checked.

“That explains a lot.”

Clifford only nodded. Throwing meaningful glances towards his companions who stood beside him.

“May we know who you are? Oh, noble warriors.”

It was the leader again, his tone softer, and his hands reaching out as if pleading.

“I am Cliff. These are my friends, Galf and Hall. We are travelers, searching for our missing family. They got taken as slaves, you see, so we thought they might have been part of this lot.”

Already having his story at the ready, Clifford delivered his introduction with such clarity and confidence even he would believe it.

“I am Arcturious Brensfield, leader of this small resistance. If you wish, you are welcome to look at our camp. There are other slaves there we’ve recently rescued.”

The man replied with the same enthusiasm.

This caught the attention of Dallor, realizing what that meant.

“But boss, wouldn’t that be dangerous? We can’t trust these people.”

He utters, throwing a menacing but cautious gaze at the three.

“It’s all right. I’ll vouch for them.”

Arcturious waves a hand to dismiss the thought. Not wanting to humiliate himself after offering it.

Yet that did not sit well with the others, as one by one more voiced out their concerns, whispering their dissatisfaction with the decision.

While they were arguing, Clifford took that time to turn to the two, having caught them flinching upon hearing the guy’s name.

“Do you know this person?”

He asks through telepathy, in order to avoid the attention of the others.

Galford swallowed hard before speaking.

“He’s the duke of this land.”

Clifford couldn’t stop the grin from forming on his face. His eyes suddenly beaming with ideas piling on his mind upon the knowledge.