The next morning, sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns across the forest floor.
The camp had already been packed up, and the guards were preparing the horses.
Abel sat on a rock, rolling his slightly stiff shoulders.
He had kept watch until the early hours and only slept for two hours, but he was long used to it.
“Young Master, have some hot soup before we set off.”
Elfi walked over with a wooden bowl, concern written all over her face.
“You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”
“I’m fine. I’m used to it.”
Abel took the bowl. The warm meat soup slid down his throat, and he felt much better.
Sutis crawled out of the tent yawning, her emerald twin-tails a little messy and sleep marks still visible on her small face.
She rubbed her eyes and walked straight to Abel, naturally climbing onto his lap before dozing off again.
Elfi watched the scene, her mouth twitching, but she said nothing.
Prim and Aiko emerged from their tents one after another.
The pink-haired princess had changed into a deep purple hunting outfit today and looked full of energy.
Aiko was still wearing her light blue priestess dress, though the faint redness around her eyes showed she had not slept well either.
Aruma was the last to appear.
She stretched with a huge yawn, her curves clearly outlined under the leather armor, causing several guards to quickly look away.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” she shouted energetically.
“The sooner we reach the marquis territory, the sooner we finish our business, the sooner—”
She glanced at Abel and swallowed the words “have a child,” but her eyes made the meaning perfectly clear.
Abel ignored her.
The convoy set off again.
The carriage rolled north along the official road as fields on both sides gradually gave way to forest.
The autumn sunlight was warm but not harsh. Occasionally flocks of birds flew overhead. Everything felt peaceful and serene.
But the tranquility did not last long.
After roughly an hour of travel, Abel suddenly wrinkled his nose.
“Stop the carriage.”
He lifted the curtain and spoke to the guard driving.
The carriage halted, and the carriages behind it stopped one by one.
Julius poked his head out from the lead carriage. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a burning smell.”
Abel jumped down and looked north, where a thin column of smoke was slowly rising.
“And the scent of blood is riding the wind.”
His expression grew grave.
The smell was faint, but unmistakable to him.
Years of adventuring had sharpened his senses to these two odors.
“You all stay in the carriages,” he said. “I’ll go check first.”
“Wait!” Prim jumped down as well. When trouble appeared, how could she miss it? “I’m coming too.”
“Me too!” Aiko followed right behind.
Aruma picked up her giant sword without a word and silently fell in step.
Sutis lifted her head from Abel’s arms, rubbing her eyes.
“My knight, what happened?”
“There might be trouble.”
Abel looked at the eager group of women and knew he could not stop them, so he simply said, “Stay close to me and don’t wander off.”
He mounted one of the guards’ horses, kicked its flanks, and galloped toward the source of the scent.
Behind him the girls followed—some on horseback, some on foot.
About fifteen minutes later, Abel reined in sharply.
The sight before him made his brows knit tightly.
A village was burning.
Flames roared toward the sky, thick smoke billowed, and the air reeked of charred wood mixed with blood.
Several bodies lay scattered at the village entrance—elderly people, women, and even children.
Although Abel had braced himself, he still frowned.
He had seen too many scenes like this.
Unfortunately, he could never grow used to them.
“There are sounds of fighting.”
Aruma tilted her head to listen.
“Inside the village!”
Abel charged in first.
In the central square, more than ten men were fiercely attacking a silver figure.
They wore ragged, mismatched clothes and wielded all kinds of weapons—clearly bandits.
The person they surrounded—
Silver long hair, silver armor.
Though stained with blood and dust, Abel recognized her instantly.
Ingrid.
Why was she here?
There was no time to wonder. Abel had already drawn his sword and rushed forward.
Sword light flashed.
Two bandits never even reacted before they were cut down.
Aruma’s giant sword whistled through the air and felled three more.
Prim and Aiko lacked combat experience, but one provided damage buffs while the other healed, and they coordinated surprisingly well.
The fight ended quickly.
The surviving bandits stared at their dead comrades, then at the group of killers before them. They threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees, begging for mercy.
“Spare us! Please spare us!”
“We were forced! We couldn’t survive at home, so we became bandits!”
“It’s this rotten world that made us do it! We didn’t want to kill anyone!”
Abel sheathed his sword and looked at them coldly.
He had heard those words far too many times.
Every bandit caught said the same thing.
As if claiming they were pitiful enough would excuse murder and arson.
“Young Master Abel…”
A weak voice spoke.
Abel turned. Ingrid’s honey-gold eyes were staring straight at him.
Her gaze was complicated.
“Ingrid,” Aiko exclaimed and instinctively stepped forward, but quickly stopped herself.
“Why are you here?”
“I…” Ingrid glanced at Aiko; a flash of pain crossed her eyes before she hid it.
“I was ordered by the archbishop to… to assist you.”
The words sounded forced, but no one had time to question them now.
Abel turned back to the kneeling bandits.
“You attacked this village.”
His voice was calm, yet the calm sent chills down the spine. “How many people did you kill?”
“N-Not many!” The leader waved his hands frantically.
“J-Just a few who resisted! We only wanted to steal some food. We didn’t mean to kill!”
“Those few who resisted,” Abel looked at the bodies at the village entrance, “included the elderly, women, and children?”
The bandits fell silent.
Abel drew his sword.
“Wait!”
A voice rang out.
Abel turned. Ingrid shook off Aiko’s hand and staggered forward.
“Wait, Young Master Abel…”
She stepped in front of the bandits, stubborn determination on her pale face. “What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do?”
Abel narrowed his eyes.
“What do you think I’m going to do?”
“I know they committed crimes,” Ingrid bit her lip, “but… even if they are evil, we should still give them a chance!”
Abel fell silent.
He remembered the first time he met Ingrid.
She had lain in the ruins, staring at him with eyes full of resentment, saying, “If you had come even a little earlier, none of this would have happened.”
Now here she stood again, facing murderers and arsonists, saying “give them a chance.”
This woman really was…
“A chance?”
Aruma walked over with her giant sword resting on her shoulder, red eyes full of confusion.
“They killed people.
Why give them a chance?
In our tribe, murder is repaid with life. It’s only natural.”
“B-But…” Ingrid looked at her. “They might have been driven to desperation…”
“Driven to desperation and then they kill?” Aruma scoffed.
“Our tribe is poor and hungry too, but we fight wild beasts and search for water in the desert. We never bully those weaker than us.”
Ingrid’s face turned even paler.
Prim walked over at that moment, a smile of amusement on her face.
“Oh my, is this how people from your church behave?”
She deliberately dragged out her words.
“Showing mercy to evil people? I seem to recall your church has a saying—if an evil person puts down the butcher’s knife, they can instantly become an angel?”
Her tone dripped with mockery.
“Good people do good deeds their whole lives and still can’t become angels, but an evil person just drops the knife and becomes one? What kind of logic is that?”
Ingrid’s expression grew uglier, yet she still stubbornly replied, “This is the church’s doctrine… to show mercy and give everyone a chance to reform…”
“Reform?” Prim’s smile grew even brighter. “Fine. Then after they reform, what about the people who died? Can they come back to life?”
Ingrid had nothing left to say.
Prim turned to the bandits, chin slightly raised, every inch the princess.
“This princess hereby declares—you have committed the grave crime of murder. According to the kingdom’s laws, you are sentenced to death and will be executed immediately!”
She looked at Abel, eyes gleaming with the desire for praise.
“How about it, Young Master Abel? Are you satisfied with this judgment?”
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.