It was the third day since leaving E-Rantel.
On the dirt road leading toward Carne Village, two coachmen who also worked as cargo handlers crouched behind the wagon wheels.
Fear was written all over their faces.
Their bodies trembled uncontrollably, and neither seemed able to decide whether they should run or keep hiding where they were.
This was hardly their first time transporting goods outside the city.
But for long-distance trips that lasted several days, merchants would normally hire an entire adventurer team around Silver rank for protection.
They had never seen anyone travel with only a single hired guard.
Especially one who did not even possess an adventurer plate.
Nfirea stood beside the wagon, his face pale as he stared at the open ground a short distance ahead.
A battle was taking place there.
Blocking the road were seven armed goblins and two unusually large ogres, each carrying a thick tree trunk as a club.
Only Lucien stood against them.
He held a slim, lightweight katana in one hand and fought with deliberate restraint.
The caution had nothing to do with danger.
He simply did not want to attract too much attention.
Ainz’s concerns had influenced him.
In an unfamiliar world like this, standing out too much could only create unnecessary problems.
Lucien had accepted this request primarily to gather information and determine whether the talented young apothecary had any hidden objectives.
He had no intention of presenting himself as some peerless warrior.
And he certainly did not want his name spreading throughout the city.
So he deliberately suppressed both his speed and destructive power, limiting himself to what he considered a reasonable level for a slightly above-average light fighter.
Of course, what Lucien considered reasonable was still based on his own standards.
Even while holding back, the difference created by max-level attributes was simply too great.
Two goblins rushed him from opposite sides, brandishing rusted short swords.
Lucien did not even adopt a defensive stance.
He shifted slightly aside, allowing the goblin on his left to swing past him.
Then he casually turned his wrist.
The thin katana traced a silver line through the air.
The goblin froze.
A narrow red line appeared across its throat.
At the same moment, Lucien adjusted his footing and flicked the blade upward in a reverse cut.
Slash!
Half of the second goblin’s head flew into the air.
Low-level monsters really were far too weak.
The katana in Lucien’s hand was an ancient piece of equipment that had been gathering dust in his inventory for years.
It had never been enhanced.
It had not even been enchanted.
Lucien moved through the monsters with ease.
The blade passed cleanly through flesh and bone.
Every strike severed a throat or pierced a heart.
Each attack was lethal.
He never needed a second blow.
In less than ten seconds, all seven goblins and the first ogre to charge him had been reduced to mutilated corpses scattered across the ground.
Just as Lucien pulled the katana from the chest of the final goblin, a heavy rush of air suddenly came from behind him.
The last ogre, slightly smaller and less cumbersome than the other, had somehow moved around behind him.
It raised the massive tree trunk high overhead and brought it down toward Lucien’s back with tremendous force.
The distance was far too close.
“Look out!” Nfirea’s heart tightened, and he shouted in panic.
Lucien did not even turn his head.
Just before the wooden club could strike him hard enough to flatten an ordinary person, his legs pushed off the ground.
He leaped backward in an exaggerated high arc that looked almost impossible from Nfirea’s perspective.
Lucien flipped over the ogre’s head and landed lightly behind it.
The massive club slammed into the wet ground where he had been standing.
Mud exploded outward as a deep crater formed beneath the impact.
In truth, the ogre had already lost consciousness before Lucien completed the motion.
At the same moment he landed, Lucien pushed the katana back into its sheath with his thumb.
A perfectly smooth line suddenly appeared beneath the ogre’s jaw.
Then its relatively small head slid free from its neck and dropped to the ground.
Blood erupted from the cleanly severed stump in a violent spray, splattering across the road.
The head rolled down the slight incline beneath Lucien’s feet until it reached the flatter ground near the wagon.
It finally came to a stop face-up, the back of its skull being smooth enough to keep it from turning farther.
Because the cut had been so fast, aside from a few scrapes caused by stones during the fall, the head still looked almost exactly as it had a second before death.
The entire road went silent.
Even the wind seemed to disappear.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
The three people beside the wagon had never seen such a brutally vivid scene before.
All of them stood completely rigid.
Only when Lucien shook some blood from the sole of his boot, walked back, and tapped the side of the wagon did they finally react.
“The danger’s gone.
Shall we keep moving?” The three seemed to return to their senses all at once.
But the way they looked at Lucien now contained an unmistakable trace of fear.
His fighting style had simply looked too ruthless.
Lucien noticed that they were still shaken, though he could not tell whether that was because of the monsters or because of what they had just watched him do.
Either way, showing impatience would only make things worse.
He did not want them thinking of him as some bloodthirsty killer.
So he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small pouch of roasted pumpkin seeds he had bought before leaving the city.
He offered some to each of them.
His movements were relaxed, and his expression was friendly.
Once they had nervously cracked open a few shells and eaten the fragrant seeds, and saw Lucien casually snacking on the same thing beside them, their fear gradually began to ease.
They finally remembered that Lucien was the guard traveling with them.
His strength was a good thing.
The coachmen returned to the driver’s seat.
With a crack of the reins, the wagon moved around the severed head and continued down the road.
Only after they had traveled some distance did the cold sweat on Nfirea’s body finally begin to dry in the wind.
Now he completely understood what Lucien had meant when he said he was stronger than Momon and Nabe combined.
Since Lucien seemed to come from the same place as Momon, and the two appeared to know one another well, Nfirea decided to test the waters once he had calmed down.
“Mr.
Vale…
that last technique you used, was it a Martial Art you created yourself?” “I’ve never heard of anything that allows someone to evade and strike like that while airborne.” “Something like that.” Lucien leaned against the side of the wagon and answered casually.
His attitude remained easygoing, and his voice was mild.
There was none of the distant arrogance one might expect from someone overwhelmingly powerful.
Seeing how approachable Lucien was, Nfirea relaxed further and began discussing their travel plans.
“At our current pace, we should reach Carne Village sometime this afternoon.” “We’ll stay there tonight, then head out to gather herbs tomorrow morning.” Nfirea tried to explain the rest of the route.
Lucien showed little concern.
With his current strength, whatever monsters they encountered should be easy enough to deal with.
Looking for another topic, Nfirea continued.
“Actually, most of the herbs we’re gathering can already be cultivated in large quantities at several large farms near E-Rantel.” “Hm?” That actually caught Lucien’s interest.
“If they can already be cultivated on that scale, why travel this far for wild plants?” “The medicinal quality is different.” Nfirea sounded slightly proud.
“Wild herbs are roughly ten percent more effective than cultivated ones.” “In a critical situation, that difference can determine whether someone lives or dies.” “So I insist on using the best ingredients available.” “That’s one of the reasons my shop has such a good reputation.” As he spoke, Nfirea reached into a pocket of his loose robe and took out a potion he had made himself.
He handed it to Lucien as a gift.
“Mr.
Vale, you’ve worked hard protecting us on this journey.” “This is a healing potion I personally prepared.
Please accept it.” Lucien took the bottle and examined the liquid inside.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
The potion was blue.
In Lucien’s experience, whether in YGGDRASIL or nearly any conventional game system he could remember, healing potions were red.
This was the first healing potion native to this world that he had ever seen.
To Lucien, blue liquid naturally suggested mana restoration.
He would never have associated it with restoring health.
Nfirea noticed Lucien’s surprise and felt a faint spark of satisfaction.
That reaction suggested Lucien’s usual healing potions were probably red, just like Momon’s.
Nfirea concealed his excitement well.
He maintained his shy and modest expression while patiently explaining the subject as an expert.
“Actually, healing potions are red immediately after they’re brewed.” “However, once exposed to air, they begin to change.” “Within a few dozen seconds, they gradually turn blue.” “It’s a problem every apothecary faces, and no one has found a way around it.” “That’s why almost all healing potions sold on the market are blue.” So this was basically already expired?
And the shelf life was only a few dozen seconds?
That sounded ridiculous.
If someone wanted to drink a fresh healing potion, did they need to stand beside the apothecary’s equipment and swallow it the moment it was finished?
Lucien knew nothing about this world’s potion-making principles, so he did not comment.
He simply thanked Nfirea and slipped the bottle into his pocket.
As the wagon continued forward and Nfirea turned to speak with the coachmen, Lucien concealed the potion beneath his clothing and used Appraisal on it.
A translucent system interface flickered before his eyes.
Then a cold notification appeared.
[Unrecognized item.] The appraisal had failed.
Lucien’s thoughts shifted immediately.
The appraisal function built into YGGDRASIL’s system could only identify objects recorded within its original database.
If the system could not recognize this potion, that meant the blue healing potion was entirely a product of this world’s native civilization.
That was another useful piece of information.
Lucien quietly committed it to memory.
Near sunset, the wagon finally approached the outskirts of Carne Village.
From the front of the wagon, Nfirea stared into the distance and muttered in confusion.
“That’s strange…” “Why is there such a thick palisade around the village?” “It looks like it was only built recently.” “There definitely wasn’t anything like that the last time I came here.” Lucien did not answer.
His extremely high Perception had already detected something unusual several hundred meters away.
There was an ambush in the wheat fields outside the walls.
[See Through] [Greater Threat Detection] [Enhanced Insight] Lucien narrowed his eyes slightly.
With his vision and perception boosted by the skills, he focused past the swaying wheat and carefully examined the figures hiding within it.
What he saw left him briefly confused.
More than a dozen goblins were crouched on both sides of the road, using the wheat field and terrain as cover.
Once Lucien confirmed their identity, the tension in his body eased slightly.
Goblins were low-level monsters.
Normally, they possessed very little intelligence.
Even if every goblin hiding there happened to be an elite specimen, they still posed virtually no threat to a max-level player.
The wagon continued forward along the dirt road.
The village entrance drew closer.
Fifty meters.
Thirty.
At roughly ten meters, Lucien noticed something strange.
The monsters still had no intention of revealing themselves.
They remained completely still inside the wheat field.
There was none of the usual behavior one would expect from wild goblins, no shouting, charging, or mindless aggression at the sight of humans.
Lucien reached out and seized the reins from the coachman, forcing the wagon to stop.
Nfirea, who had noticed nothing, looked at him in confusion.
“Mr.
Vale?” Lucien did not answer.
He jumped down from the wagon and walked alone to the front of the group.
Partly because he was curious that such low-level monsters were capable of organizing an ambush, and partly because his first responsibility as an escort was to protect his client, Lucien did not immediately draw his katana and slaughter them.
He stopped in the middle of the road.
His gaze swept calmly across the silent wheat fields on both sides.
Then he issued a warning.
“I’m going to count to three.” “If none of you come out by the time I’m finished, I’m setting the entire field on fire.” (To be continued.)