Chapter 7: The Hunter in the Dark

More than thirty riders entered the valley at a leisurely pace.

The light from their torches poured in from the valley entrance like a winding serpent of fire.

At their head was a bald man, riding a tall black horse.

The firelight stretched his shadow long, casting it onto the open ground at the center of the camp.

The expressions on the mercenaries’ faces shifted from drunkenness to wariness, the bottles in their hands already replaced with weapons.

Aldo stood by the fire, his face pale but relatively composed.

He instinctively glanced toward Rex’s tent, but then froze.

The open ground in front of the tent was empty.

The young man who had been standing there just moments ago had now completely vanished.

‘Did he run?’

The thought flashed through Aldo’s mind.

But he looked at the tent again.

The flap swayed slightly, as if it had just been let down.

Peering through the gap, he could see the woman was still sitting quietly inside, still holding a cup of coffee, seemingly utterly unconcerned with what was happening outside.

Aldo had no time to wonder where Rex had gone.

At that moment, the bald man reined in his horse, sweeping his gaze over the camp from his elevated position.

“Well, isn’t this lively,” he said.

His underlings behind him laughed along, their laughter dripping with undisguised malice.

Aldo took a deep breath and steeled himself to step forward.

“Friend,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “this road is a freight route for the Merchant Guild. Do us a favor, and we can all go our separate ways peacefully.”

“A favor?”

The bald man tilted his head.

“Who the hell are you?”

He extended his hand, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle fingers.

“Leave the goods, get lost. Be smart, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive.”

Aldo’s face paled another shade.

“Are you picking a fight with the Granchester Merchant Guild?”

“Granchester?”

The bald man burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the valley and startling a few night birds.

“I’m not even afraid of the Empire’s Emperor, you think I’m scared of a merchant guild? Besides,” he leaned forward, the firelight gleaming off his smooth scalp, a nakedly malicious grin on his face.

“In this godforsaken place, who’s to know who robbed you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the bandits behind him drew their weapons in unison.

The glint of blades flashed under the torchlight, horses shifted restlessly, and the clatter of metal rose and fell.

The mercenaries instinctively took half a step back.

Thirty against eight.

And the enemy was on horseback, holding the high ground.

This wasn’t a fight; it was a simple slaughter.

The bald man clearly reveled in this fear.

He slowly straightened up, about to say something more, when—thump.

An extremely soft sound.

The largest bonfire in the center of the camp went out.

It was as if something had precisely struck the heart of the flames.

Sparks flew, thick smoke billowed, and the light was swallowed by darkness in an instant.

“What?”

Another thump.

The second bonfire went out.

Each one was terrifyingly accurate, as if a pair of eyes in the darkness clearly knew the position, size, even the wind direction for every fire.

In the span of just a few breaths, every fire in the camp was extinguished.

Darkness rushed in like a tide.

The bandits’ torches were still lit, but their light could only illuminate a small patch directly in front of them.

The camp, which had been brightly lit by the bonfires moments before, had now become a vast expanse of shadow.

And the torches in their hands had instead become targets, making those holding them shine like candles in the dark.

“Damn it! Who put out the fires?!”

“Don’t move! Don’t—”

The voice cut off abruptly.

A dull thud sounded from the darkness, like something heavy hitting flesh.

Then came the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground.

“Boss?”

No answer.

Another dull thud.

Then the whinnying of horses, the panicked stamping of hooves, the sound of someone falling from a saddle.

Chaos spread in a matter of seconds.

Bandits collided with each other in the dark, horses spooked and bolted wildly.

Someone swung a blade wildly, cutting their own comrade’s horse.

Someone fell from their horse and was trampled by the hooves of those behind.

And the most terrifying thing was…

Now they had no idea where the enemy was.

Those torches were extinguished one by one.

Not by the wind, but by something striking them with pinpoint accuracy, sparks flying before plunging into darkness.

“Run! Get out of here!”

Someone shouted first, no one knew who.

Fear is contagious.

The thirty bandits completely fell apart in the darkness.

Horses scattered and fled, riders spurring them toward the valley entrance.

The mercenary captain was the first to react.

“Light the fires! Light them, now!”

His men scrambled to rekindle the bonfires.

The moment the light flared up, everyone saw the scene in the camp.

The bald man was now lying face-down on the ground, unconscious.

Two other bandits remained—one curled up clutching his stomach, the other rolling on the ground holding his leg.

The rest had already fled in the chaos.

Aldo stood by the fire, his lips trembling slightly.

He looked around, and then his gaze landed near the tent.

The young man was standing there, having appeared at some unknown time.

He held a few small stones in his hand, looking down at the two captives on the ground.

“These two are still breathing,” Rex said, dusting off his hands.

“Ask them.”

The mercenaries looked at him with completely changed eyes.

This clean-cut, noble-looking young master—what had he done in the darkness just now?

How had he done it?

Rex showed no intention of explaining.

He walked over and crouched in front of one of the bandits who could still speak.

“I ask, you answer,” he said, his tone flat.

“Answer correctly, you walk out alive. Answer wrong—”

He didn’t finish the sentence, just tossed one of the stones in his hand up and caught it.

The bandit looked into his eyes and shuddered violently.

“Y-you ask…”

“This road hasn’t been safe lately,” Rex said.

“Was it you?”

“Yes… yes… but not just us…”

The bandit stammered.

“We only came recently… before, no one really controlled this road, but lately…”

He swallowed.

“Lately, there’s been a big shot collecting tolls from behind the scenes. Small-timers like us can only pick up the scraps they leave. The big merchant caravans get hit by them, the small ones are what’s left for us…”

Rex frowned.

“A big shot? Who?”

“I don’t know! I really don’t!”

The bandit shook his head desperately.

“I just know it’s organized… there are several groups, and their equipment is much better than ours… I heard the leader came from the Empire side, and he used to be in the military…”

Aldo’s face changed completely.

He walked over to Rex’s side, his voice very low.

“Sir, this is more serious than I thought.”

Rex stood up and looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I thought it was just ordinary mountain bandits,” Aldo said, his fingers trembling slightly.

“But if it’s organized… if someone is specifically targeting merchant caravans from behind the scenes, then it’s not just about money anymore.”

Rex didn’t speak, just looked at the bandit on the ground again.

The bandit hurriedly added, “I’m telling the truth! We used to operate somewhere else, they drove us out! They said this territory belongs to them now, they won’t let us touch the big jobs…”

Rex stood up and casually tossed the stones aside.

“Tie them up,” he said to the mercenary captain.

“We’ll deal with them at dawn.”

The mercenary captain opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end just nodded and signaled his men to tie the three bandits up securely.

Aldo stood by the fire, his expression shifting uncertainly.

He watched as Rex prepared to walk back to the tent, hesitated for a moment, then followed.

“Sir.”

Rex turned back.

“I was thinking…”

Aldo lowered his voice further.

“The payment we discussed earlier—I’ll triple it.”

Rex looked at him without speaking, seemingly unsatisfied with the offer.

“Five times!”

Aldo gritted his teeth.

“Sir, this shipment is very important to me, and to the Guild. If there really is someone specifically targeting caravans on the road…”

“Mister Aldo.”

Rex interrupted him.

“What exactly are you transporting that warrants this level of trouble?”

Aldo opened his mouth.

The campfire crackled, the flames dancing on his face.

His expression wavered between hesitation and resolve.

Inside the tent, Hilda sat quietly, holding the cup of coffee that had already gone cold.

Her gaze passed through the gap in the tent flap, resting on Aldo’s face, watching him like someone making their final struggle.