8 Fisheo

When the sky began to lighten, Tang Mo finally saw the end of the Vicious Forest. The earth suddenly felt more expansive, with smoke curling up from the roadside, where trade caravans were gathering, awaiting departure.

All desired to traverse the dangerous forest together during daylight, so when Tang Mo made it through the Vicious Forest overnight, curious merchants on both sides of the road sized up the hurriedly passing carriage.

Soon, sharp-eyed merchants noticed a broken arrow shaft still lodged in the carriage door.

"Look! They were attacked! Who knows how many died..." a merchant, holding a steaming lunch box, chewed and spoke to those nearby.

Another, pinching a slightly moldy piece of bread, crammed it into his mouth while cautioning his companion, "Get ready and stay sharp later! Beware of bandits!"

Tang Mo sat in the coach's co-driver's seat, enjoying the cool breeze of the early morning—nights in the forest were extremely cold. However, the slightly cool morning air made Tang Mo more awake and more appreciative of the moment.

"Don't worry, once we get back, I'll get you a revolver like this," Tang Mo chatted at length with Wes, having taken the co-driver's seat ever since the first glimpse of sunlight, and talked about everything from then on.

They discussed Wes's past, Tang Mo's weapons workshop, and Count Fisheo, even delving into flintlock guns, the intricacies of longsword combat, the ranger lifestyle, and Tang Mo's new weapon.

"Hopefully, all goes well. With Count Fisheo's backing, at least you won't be alone when facing Shireck," Wes said to Tang Mo while focusing on driving the carriage.

"I know what you're worried about, but as you know, I have my secret weapon," Tang Mo laughed, a smile that had hung on his face ever since he'd taken the co-driver's seat, inscrutable to Wes.

Having lived two lifetimes, Tang Mo was far more complex than Wes could imagine. In another world, he trafficked arms, skirting the edge of the law, and straddling the line between black and white. How could someone who had clawed his way through such an environment for over thirty years be a simple character?

"Can you really get me one of those ranger killers?" Wes finally couldn't resist the temptation to ask.

He truly wanted to know how dramatically one of those ranger killers strapped to his waist would increase his combat effectiveness.

To simply draw near a target and guarantee a kill, then use the remaining bullets to create chaos and retreat with ease—against such an unprecedented weapon, who could anticipate and defend against his movements?

Even now, he was already calculating in his mind how much he would charge for assassinating a king...

"Ranger killer?" Tang Mo was taken aback, almost failing to comprehend what Wes was talking about. But soon, his smile grew more brazen: "Hahaha! You're hilarious, Wes! Hahaha!"

Knowing what rangers in this world were like, he also understood the meaning behind Wes's words.

The era was advancing; the chivalrous fighting style of musketeers who shoot once before dueling with longswords was destined to be swept into the dustbin of history.

But would the rangers, or similar figures, disappear? Clearly not. Their fighting style would become more systematic and scientific, eventually evolving into professionals such as espionage agents or even special forces.

The rough method of battling with longswords would be utterly eliminated, replaced by a compact PPK pistol tucked under the arm!

Before Wes, baffled by the laughter, could erupt, Tang Mo finally stopped laughing and said, "Don't worry, by my side, you'll see sights you've never seen before, and naturally find a path you can follow forever."

"But, before that," he patted Wes's shoulder with interest, "This gun isn't called a ranger killer. It's called a revolver because it hasn't been mass-produced, so it doesn't have a number yet."

"After we return, can you truly get me one of those... revolvers?" Wes asked for confirmation, his yearning for the weapon palpable; just holding it in his hands, he felt an invincible power.

"Better than that," Tang Mo felt that equipping his people with a few better weapons wasn't a difficult task.

"You're joking..." Yet, it was clear that with Wes's limited imagination, he couldn't possibly conceive of a weapon superior to the revolver in this world.

Just as even a top ace pilot like Hadman couldn't imagine a future where planes could lock onto dozens of enemy aircraft beyond visual range and attack eight targets simultaneously.

Tang Mo couldn't be bothered to explain to Wes and simply leaned against the carriage, glimpsing the city on the horizon, and softly stated, "You'll understand once we're back."

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The Northern Ridge is the territory of Earl Ronin Fisallo, and the largest city here is also the seat of the Earl's power—Wolf City.

The Ronin Family uses the wolf as their emblem, just like the Stark family from the television series familiar to Tang Mo. Families that rose to power through military force often worship wild beasts primitively, and their emblems are either a wolf's head, an eagle, a bear, or a lion, which is why the likelihood of having the same emblem is quite high.

It was only when Tang Mo saw clearly the wolf banner hanging on the city wall that he also noticed the cavalry brandishing their banner, approaching his carriage.

Thirty knights clad in breastplates and helmets, holding high the Northern Ridge Wolf Banner, galloped towards him and quickly surrounded the carriage he was in.

Escorted by these knights, the carriage entered the city, and at the city gate, they met a significant figure waiting there—Earl Ronin Fisallo.

Wes visibly relaxed upon seeing these knights, and when he saw the Lord Earl at the city gate, he immediately broke into a smile.

After tightening the reins, he didn't wait for the carriage to come to a complete stop and leaped off. However, the Earl's guards remained loyally between him and the Earl.

"Lord Earl," Wes said with a smile, nodding slightly to the visibly wrinkled face of Fisallo as he bowed.

"Wes! The things you mentioned in your letter... are they true?" Fisallo lifted his hand, signaling the guards not to be so tense, "If he wanted to attack, you wouldn't be able to stop him. Stand down."

"Of course, you know my reputation. Once I've taken your money, I definitely won't botch the job," Wes said, spreading his hands and giving Fisallo a light embrace, then stepped aside to introduce Tang Mo, who was behind him, "This is the man you're looking for, I've brought the firearms... I witnessed their power last night, and they're better than you could imagine!"

"Oh?" Fisallo was obviously more interested in the firearms, and without moving his feet, he questioned immediately upon hearing this.

Wes immediately explained, "The Vicious Forest isn't very peaceful."

"Those bandits who dared to mess with you really are quite unlucky. Ha ha ha ha," Earl Fisallo paused then laughed heartily as if he had guessed the truth.

"..." Wes rubbed his nose but didn't correct the Lord Earl. He was now a knight of Tang Mo's, so he had to keep some things to himself.

"Well then! What are we waiting for? Let's go inside to talk!" Fisallo said with an excited smile, gesturing to Tang Mo before leading the way, "Let's have breakfast first! Although the food here is not so great, it's still quite substantial!"

"That's wonderful, Lord Earl. We've been exhausted on the way here," Wes said with a smile as if he had returned home.

Fisallo was also quite hearty, laughing out loud and then speaking to Tang Mo, "Come on, kid! Northern Ridge folks are warm and welcoming. Don't be shy here!"

He led the way to the castle, and Tang Mo followed behind him, seeing the bustling market and the crowds of merchants coming and going.

To be honest, as the administrative center of the Northern Ridge, this place was much livelier than Brunas, which Tang Mo was familiar with. Not far from the market, he could see cattle carts loading and unloading goods, and fruits were chaotically strewn in baskets all over the ground.

Tang Mo even detected a faint, unmistakable scent of cow dung—an aroma present in every city, while in Brunas, it was the stench of fishiness.

Such was the era, and Tang Mo was powerless to change it, much like how in the 21st century on Earth, big cities often had suffocating smog.

The Earl's castle wasn't particularly impressive, far less grand than the medieval castles Tang Mo had seen as a tourist in his previous life.

It was more like a manor built within the city, not even as good as Baron Stela's residence. From this detail, one could tell that Earl Ronin Fisallo was not as pompous as Baron Stela.

However, on this not-so-large Earl's Mansion, one could see seven or eight officers and no fewer than thirty guards, each armed and dressed in the unique light yellow military uniforms of the Leite Kingdom.

As the Earl passed these officers and soldiers, they would solemnly stand erect and salute, placing their hands over their chests and greeting loudly.

"You'll have to excuse us," the Earl said a bit sheepishly to Tang Mo, explaining, "The border cavalry activities of the Suthers Kingdom are becoming more frequent, and I have had to consider assembling troops and making necessary defense preparations, which is why this has been turned into a temporary command center, so it appears a bit crowded."

"Has the situation become so critical?" It was Tang Mo's first time arriving at the Northern Ridge, and he felt the oppressive atmosphere emanating from the front lines for himself.

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