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The Necromancer's Servant

Under the sky of history, whether you love or not, you are merely a speck of dust. No matter who you are, what you can grasp is only yourself.

Firebird57 · Kỳ huyễn
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181 Chs

Chapter 15: No Bad People In The World

"As a knight, one should fight the enemy face to face to achieve victory. Any other indirect means are an insult to one's character and the chivalric code." Rodhart's face displayed a valiant expression. "However, from a tactical standpoint, I'm afraid they might use the envoy to threaten us, so it seems we should approach stealthily. What do you think?"

"Do whatever you want," Asa replied straightforwardly.

"I want to preserve my identity as a knight while also completing the task perfectly… I must find a way that satisfies both..." He cradled his head, deep in thought.

"I choose to sneak in. This way, we're not violating the knightly principles of honesty and integrity, but rather we are valuing our lives more." Rodhart finally found a reason that connected both approaches, excitedly deciding on a tactic, and he was quite pleased with himself for finding this solution. "I now have a deeper understanding of chivalry."

He led Asa to the place where the envoy was reportedly ambushed that day. It was a patch of thicket, a shortcut naturally worn by the passage of carts and people. Such an environment was indeed suitable for bandits. The envoy had dared to enter this area with only two or three attendants, clearly overestimating the local security.

Rodhart looked around the surroundings and said, "Thank heaven it hasn't rained. The local officials didn't dare send anyone to investigate because they are afraid to alert the bandits and put the envoy's life in danger." He said smugly, "Now I just need to use the tracking techniques I learned in school to find the traces of these bandits."

He bent down to carefully examine the ground and grass. After a while, he stood up, rubbing his sore back in astonishment. "There are no signs at all; those soldiers at the city hall actually took my money and lied to me."

"This is the right place. They have about ten people, and they are not riding horses. They are holding the envoy," Asa had already spotted the footprints and the trampled grass on the ground. "Follow me." Asa plunged deeper into the thicket, with Rodhart hurriedly trailing behind.

In the woods, Asa found the bandits' traces almost effortlessly and followed them. For someone who had once played a chase game with a arc in one of the continent's most dangerous wilderness areas, this was far too simple. The traces were so obvious to Asa that they seemed to be marked for him. He leaped and weaved through the forest as freely and easily as an animal moving through its territory, while Rodhart, clad in steel armor, struggled to catch up.

Suddenly, Asa stopped and pulled Rodhart back.

Four seemingly natural vines extended from four trees up to the treetops, blending in with other natural vines and appearing inconspicuous. This trap was quite sophisticated and clearly designed for humans; traps for animals don't need such elaborate concealment and wouldn't be set in a place they had previously traversed.

This was merely a snare trap, lacking mechanisms that would instantly kill a person. Such traps typically don't pose a significant threat to humans; as long as one has a knife or something similar, they won't be trapped for long. This meant there must be some kind of alarm attached to notify the trapper, indicating that the bandits' hideout wasn't far away.

Asa said to Rodhart, "Take off that armor; it's too heavy and you won't be able to run fast."

Rodhart shook his head and said, "No, this is a knight's mark."

"Then keep up with me. If you can't, go back and try to delay any bandits that come this way." Asa found such a person troublesome and didn't want to deal with him any longer. Asa figured he could handle a dozen bandits on his own without much trouble.

Asa picked up a larger dry branch from the ground and threw it at a pile of weeds ahead. With a swoosh, a large net suddenly sprang up from the dead leaves and weeds on the ground, gathering between the treetops, while a distant gong echoed faintly.

Asa immediately discerned the direction and distance of the sound. He sprinted to the side, preparing to sneak into the bandits' den while avoiding the approaching bandits.

Rodhart managed to run a few steps behind but watched as Asa used both hands and feet to swiftly navigate through the trees like a wildcat and disappear. He shook his head helplessly and returned to the trap to wait for the bandits.

After running for a while, Asa spotted a few simple grass huts in a clearing ahead, with a few dying campfires nearby, and several wooden houses in the trees. This should be the bandits' camp.

However, given the simplicity of this hideout, these bandits were clearly not very professional; they looked more like a makeshift mob. Asa had already made up his mind; he didn't need to sneak in at all; he would just charge in and take them down one by one. He could already see several figures through the trees and weeds and suddenly dashed out from the thicket.

But he immediately realized he had no idea which one to take down first.

A few old men holding logs stared at him blankly. These elderly men were dressed in rags that hardly covered their bodies, their faces lined with the wrinkles of hardship, their backs hunched, and their waists bent, standing there unsteadily as if they might fall over at any moment without needing to be struck.

A few snot-nosed children were shouting at him from the treehouses, some wearing tree bark, while others were completely naked. One was even urinating; seeing Asa emerge from the thicket, he eagerly aimed his urine at him, making a loud noise, but unfortunately, the range was not as impressive as he had hoped.

Upon hearing the children's shouts, a dozen women emerged from the grass huts and treehouses, holding animal skins. They did not seem afraid of Asa; instead, they showed expressions of surprise, and one of them approached. This was a middle-aged woman, her attire relatively intact. She had her hair tied back with a bundle of grass, and her simple, honest face bore a hint of capable intelligence, likely making her the leader among the women. She approached Asa and asked, "Young man, did you trigger the alarm?"

"Ah," Asa replied blankly. He was completely at a loss for how to respond; it seemed impossible to rush into a group of elderly people, children, and women to start fighting as he had initially imagined.

The woman scrutinized Asa and asked, "Are you lost? You don't seem to be from around here. Are you a wandering outsider?"

"Oh," Asa nodded in agreement. He had a dagger hidden under his robe, still wearing the old robe that Sandru had given him, and as for his hair, beard, and face, he never paid them any attention, so he likely didn't look like a person of status.

"Are you hungry? Come inside and have some soup to warm up," the woman offered hospitably, reflecting the friendliness of rural villagers. "My husband and the others went to check on the trap you triggered. It was only meant for soldiers, and they should be back soon."

If it weren't for being deep in these woods, this looked like just a small village. Asa remembered Rodhart was still back there. He was sure that he would get into a scuffle with the woman's husband and his group, as his full knightly armor and sword clearly indicated he was there to rescue the envoy. He turned and started to walk back the way he came.

Just a few steps in, he saw more than twenty men approaching. Similarly ragged in clothing, they wielded farming tools like pitchforks and hoes, with only two of them holding short swords and bows. Rodhart was among them, surrounded by the men, talking amicably with them. He saw Asa from afar and immediately raised his hand, waving to signal him.

As they approached, Asa stared at Rodhart and asked, "What's going on here?"

Rodhart laughed like a child, "Misunderstanding, misunderstanding! These are my neighbors from several nearby villages. I haven't seen them in years. This is Hunter Levin, and this is Brother Bombo…" He went on to introduce each man beside him, as if he were a wayward son returning home with friends.

After sitting around the campfire and chatting for a while, they learned that these men were villagers from nearby areas. Unable to bear the sudden increase of tax over the past few months, they had fled into the mountains, living by hunting and occasionally robbing passersby. Yesterday, they saw a richly dressed man with several attendants at the edge of the forest and, mistaking him for just another wealthy individual, had tied him up and brought him back. Little did they know he was actually an envoy sent from the royal capital, which had caused the local officials to panic as if they were under siege.

"We absolutely must release him; kidnapping a court minister is totally unacceptable," Rodhart urged the group.

"No way," someone immediately objected. Asa remembered this person as Brother Bombo, a bald man with a plump face. It was hard to discern any signs of poverty on his chubby cheeks. It was said he used to sell meat, and his bulk seemed to stem from a long history of indulgence, making it unlikely he would change his shape even if he starved. He stepped forward and said, "Just releasing him isn't enough. This is a serious matter; the local officials won't let us off easily. They've already exploited us terribly during normal times, and now if we cause them to lose face in front of the envoy, they'll definitely wipe us out. We plan to take this opportunity to squeeze some good money out of those guys, then we can all leave for somewhere far away." This was the prevailing sentiment among the group, drawing many nods of agreement.

"But that's illegal! As subjects of the Empire, we should obey the law. Moreover, I've heard that the envoy is a highly educated theologian. We are all believers in God; how can we commit such an act?" Rodhart insisted, feeling that it was unbecoming for a knight to be involved in this topic and wanting to clarify his position.

"If the local officials can legally starve us to death, what difference does it make?" Hunter Lavin, the leader of the group, replied. He was a short, wiry man, showing no sign of fat, with skin that seemed tough as iron. His hair was tied up in a peculiar manner with a cloth, and his face was painted in a colorful manner, adorned with a small goatee. "When your grandfather was around, those guys still had some restraint and didn't dare go too far. But lately, it seems that whenever the higher-ups want to do something, they think about squeezing money from us. First, they increased the land tax, then they doubled the business tax, and now they even claim that this forest belongs to the state, so we have to pay tax to hunt here. We can't do anything at all, and we can't even maintain our livelihoods. Now they want us to pay a head tax; if we don't pay, we're breaking the law and suspected of being heretics. The laws they set have forced us into this state; do you still want us to follow the law?"

Rodhart shook his head, saying, "This is just the mistake of the local bureaucrats. Because they're so far from the royal capital, they can act so recklessly. The envoy has been sent by the capital to oversee them. As long as we clearly report the situation to the envoy and explain our difficulties, he will surely give us justice."

The woman who had just welcomed Asa was Hunter Lavin's wife. With a woman's unique insight, she dissected the situation: "Little Rodhart, you've been in your school too long and have learned too many rigid, bookish things. What are those things? Just a few words, a few inked characters; what we see are the facts. Think about it: does this envoy have closer ties to those dog officials or to us? When he goes to the city, will he be eating and sleeping at our homes? Do you think they will protect us?"

Rodhart stubbornly shook his head. "No, there will definitely be justice; righteousness will be upheld, and evil will receive its due punishment. That's what my grandfather taught me."

"I've lived seventy years and have never seen what 'justice' or 'righteousness' looks like," an old man said nearby. He had few teeth left, and his words were difficult to understand, yet they carried a heavy weight. He glanced around at the others and emphasized, "Seventy years."

Rodhart's face had turned somewhat red; whether from excitement or something else, it resembled the expression of someone in a mercenary tavern. He spoke forcefully, "No, there definitely is! My grandfather once said the same to me." Suddenly remembering there might be an ally nearby, he turned to Asa and sincerely asked, "Friend Asa, you must believe in the principles of justice and righteousness in this world too, right?"

Asa frowned, searching his memory, and looked at him cautiously, responding honestly, "I've never heard of such things."

"No. They are true!" Rodhart, undaunted by his isolation, stood up more excitedly. "Think about it: if we courteously return the envoy, he'll see that we could have extorted money but chose not to. He will surely be moved by our sincerity and will stand up for us. You all should know, I've heard that this envoy once engaged in research at a seminary; he must possess profound wisdom and a great heart."

The crowd remained silent, perhaps feeling it would be unkind to pour cold water on his enthusiasm.

"Even if you all extort a sum of money, what will that accomplish? You'll still have to leave your homes and hide elsewhere, never able to return to your own land. Moreover, you'll live in fear, worried about being discovered and caught. Is this the life you want? If only the envoy can help you adjust the taxes and punish the local officials, you can return to your old way of life."

The villagers stirred; these words were very enticing. For those born and raised in the countryside, feelings for their homeland and way of life were indeed irreplaceable. "It seems what he said makes sense…" Some began to show agreement with his words.

Rodhart almost pleaded, "Please believe me. I guarantee this by my knightly honor, as well as my grandfather's name."

This guarantee held significant weight; Rodhart's grandfather seemed to have a good reputation among the villagers. They began to discuss among themselves, each sharing their thoughts. After a long while, Hunter Lavin finally nodded. "Alright, since you say so, and in any case, the outcome will be to release him, let's follow your lead and take a chance."

Rodhart responded firmly and confidently, "This is not a gamble, it is certain. Everyone, don't think too dark about this world. Just like I heard people in the city say there are a group of vicious mountain bandits here, but aren't you all good people? As long as we hold a bright heart, we will see that there aren't so many bad people in this world."