While Galgher is busy packing up and heading to Peace Haven with his family, Henwell turns to Kleios, the ranger still crouched on the table, and waves him over. “Stop posing all cool up there! Come down and talk to me.”

  Given Henwell’s permission, Kleios, whose legs have long gone numb, tumbles headfirst off the table. After his muscles stop cramping, he scrambles up awkwardly from the floor.

  Henwell kicks a chair toward him. Kleios cautiously sits down, eyes flickering nervously at Henwell.

  Henwell pours himself a drink. “You’re a freence mercenary, an advanced css of ranger. Honestly, you’re somewhat useful, but your arrogance makes me lean toward executing you. However, a lot of people died today, and I’m in a good mood, so I’ll give you a chance, a chance to live. From now on, you have three sentences to convince me not to kill you.”

  “I swear loyalty to you, my lord!”

  Henwell shakes his head. “Your loyalty means little to me and isn’t trustworthy. That’s your first sentence.”

  Panicked, Kleios blurts out, “Phiney from Tule City wants you dead. He’s offering ten thousand gold coins. I can take you to him!”

  Henwell chuckles. “Only ten thousand? Someone’s taking a cut. Like I said, your loyalty’s unreliable. Looks like I wasn’t wrong. You have zero professionalism, selling out your employer just like that. Besides, I don’t need to hunt down your employer. Plenty want me dead, I can’t kill them all. And a small-time snitch taking bribes isn’t worth my trouble.”

  Henwell smirks, “By the way, that was your second sentence. Think carefully, only one sentence left, and time’s running out.”

  Sweat beads on Kleios’s forehead; his hands tremble uncontrolbly.

  What now? Should he reveal his treasure’s location? Share some secrets he knows?

  No way! The man in front of him doesn’t care about any of that. He’s toying with him.

  Henwell never intended to spare him. Better to run desperately than wait to die, at least there’s a sliver of hope.

  But then Kleios dismisses the thought.

  He just saw Henwell strike; he didn’t even catch what happened before two cloaked figures were killed.

  Kleios knows clearly: if he tries to run, he might not even make it to the gate.

  No. Just standing up could get him cut down on the spot.

  Kleios’s expression shifts wildly—anger, despair, regret all fshing across his face.

  No one knows how much time passes before his gaze suddenly hardens with fierce determination.

  He springs up abruptly, drawing a dagger from his waist.

  Hubert, standing nearby with his hand on his sword hilt, draws his bde halfway and steps forward.

  Henwell raises a hand, signaling Hubert to hold back.

  Facing them, Kleios suddenly drives the dagger into his own mouth and twists it.

  In stunned silence, everyone watches as Kleios spits out blood mixed with bits of his broken tongue.

  He opens his mouth to show the ruined tongue.

  Henwell cps softly. “Impressive! You really are a gambler at heart. But you bet right. I’ll acknowledge this loophole. From now on, you have no third sentence to say, and I won’t kill you anymore. You’re quite the talent. So, what do you say, want to join me? I’m starting to see you as someone special. That ruthless streak of yours makes me believe in you even more than your skill.”

  Kleios shakes his head gently at Henwell, then points outside.

  Henwell gestures. “Go ahead! You’re free to leave. Remember, my name’s Henwell. If one day you change your mind, come find me in Peace Haven, in the Kingdom of Vorry. I’ll have a fitting job for you.”

  Kleios bows to Henwell respectfully, then decisively steps out of the tavern.

  Hubert looks worried. “Someone that ruthless, won’t he cause trouble for us?”

  Henwell chuckles. “Heh… You mean, since I pushed him this far, why did I let him live? Don’t worry. He won’t come back for revenge. He knows well enough that failure comes with a price. And I only took away his ability to speak, that’s already a generous mercy. He’ll avoid me for the rest of his life.”

  With that, Henwell leads everyone out of the tavern and back to the camp to rest.

  The next day, the Western Expedition group leaves the vilge first, with the Mountain Antelope Trade Caravan following behind.

  Word of st night’s events has already spread among the caravan members.

  The infamous Bck Ring Riders—over two hundred strong—attacked the expedition’s camp on the vast wastend. But before they could even get close, more than half were shot down.

  The nearly fifty knights left behind by the expedition dispy incredible marksmanship. Combined with the brutal penetration power of their military-grade crossbows, it’s almost one shot per rider.

  Before the knights fire their fourth volley, the Bck Ring Riders lose their nerve and flee.

  But they were attacking a group of knights!

  Thirty knights swiftly mount their horses and give chase.

  Within half an hour, each knight returns dragging several uncimed horses and a string of heads.

  Out of over two hundred Bck Ring Riders, only a handful manage to escape.

  Everyone else, including their leader, falls on the outskirts of this remote vilge on the wastend.

  The next day, everyone falls silent as they look at the neatly stacked bodies.

  Henwell tosses some money to the vilgers to bury the bandits, preventing any diseases from spreading as the weather warms.

  Now, the expedition has gained over three hundred extra horses, but Henwell doesn’t pn to sell them.

  Instead, he orders Tony, leader of the Mountain Antelope Trade Caravan, to find a pce to board the livestock.

  Such a pce exists only in Tule City—their next destination.

  The journey ahead passes without incident.

  They arrive smoothly at the outskirts of Tule City.

  This city-state belongs to the Western Federation and isn’t small.

  Though Tule City itself has fewer than 100,000 residents, it’s surrounded by numerous towns and estates.

  The popution under Tule City’s jurisdiction exceeds 300,000.

  Seven powerful families vie for control here, each having ruled the city at some point.

  Every twenty years, Tule City erupts in political turmoil.

  The seven families battle for the title of city lord—the victor takes the throne, while the losers become city councilors, barred from bringing military forces into the city.

  Henwell’s arrival is poorly timed; the contest for lordship ended three years ago.

  Otherwise, he might have witnessed a thrilling political showdown.