Vergil glanced backwards in a casual, sweeping motion, careful not to draw any unwanted attention to himself.
The exact moment his eyes landed on the leading youth, a spark of recognition flashed through his sharp mind.
That specific boy had been standing silently behind Daniel earlier in the afternoon.
He continued walking normally beside Sam, keeping his pace steady while silently considering the volatile situation.
Maybe I’m simply being overly suspicious.
The boy wasn’t travelling with Daniel anymore, and the other two burly figures accompanying him were completely unfamiliar.
They’re locals.
Maybe they’re just heading toward the residential district.
Perhaps my overly cautious nature is making me overthink a mundane coincidence.
A few minutes later, the two village boys entered a crowded, chaotic market district filled to the brim with colourful vegetable stalls, hanging carcasses of meat, baskets of winter fruit, and the heavy smell of fresh river fish.
A wide, muddy diagonal path cut through the very middle of the bustling marketplace.
Because of the dense, pushing crowd, their forward pace naturally slowed down to a crawl.
Halfway through the market, Vergil casually glanced back again while pretending to examine a pile of winter fruit displayed at a nearby wooden stall.
Immediately, his eyes sharpened slightly beneath his brow.
The three trailing boys were still there, maintaining their distance.
And now, they were actively and aggressively pushing through the common crowd to close the gap toward them.
Vergil calmly looked forward again, his facial expression remaining perfectly unbothered.
Walking shoulder-to-shoulder beside Sam, he lowered his voice and whispered quietly,
“We’re being actively followed.”
Sam’s eyes widened, and he instinctively started to turn his entire upper body around to look.
Vergil immediately caught his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“Don’t look back.
They’ll notice you’re onto them.”
Sam stiffened slightly, his posture freezing before he managed to execute a much subtler glance over his shoulder.
Vergil quietly identified the exact targets for his friend.
“The black-haired boy wearing the grey wool shirt.”
“And the two burly, thicker boys moving right beside him.”
Sam turned his gaze forward again, his brow furrowing with sudden anxiety.
“Who exactly are they?”
“I saw the black-haired one standing right behind Daniel outside Sterling House earlier.”
Sam’s face frowned immediately as the realisation hit.
“Why on earth are they following us through the market?”
Vergil answered calmly, his voice devoid of emotion.
“It’s probably Daniel’s explicit order.”
Soon, the two boys finally emerged from the crowded marketplace, stepping onto a much wider, cobblestone street.
Sam still looked genuinely confused, his simple village mindset struggling to comprehend the malice.
“But why?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
“We didn’t even speak a single syllable to that noble boy.”
Vergil sighed lightly under his breath before turning to give Sam a deep, meaningful look.
“You really don’t understand how these people think, do you?”
Sam blinked blankly through the falling snowflakes.
“What did I even do wrong?”
Vergil answered flatly, breaking down the reality.
“We spent time with Aurora.”
“And Aurora clearly cannot stand the sight of Daniel.”
A wave of stark realisation slowly appeared on Sam’s face, his mouth parting slightly.
“He actually sent thugs after us just because we walked down the street with Aurora?”
The two continued walking through the cold, snowy streets, the grey sky darkening.
As they turned another sharp cobblestone corner, the sudden, loud blast of a horn echoed nearby.
Vergil instantly looked up and saw a squad of mounted riders charging recklessly down the narrow street, wearing the distinct crest of the Hill Family uniforms.
Without a shred of hesitation, he grabbed Sam by the collar and stepped tightly against the stone wall of a building.
The heavy horses thundered past them without slowing down for a second, the riders completely unconcerned about trampling any common pedestrians in their path.
Only after the horses disappeared around the bend did Sam finally release a deep, trembling breath.
“That was incredibly dangerous.
They didn’t even look.”
They resumed walking, the tension in the air thickening.
Several moments later, Sam risked another glance back behind them.
“Vergil…
they’re still following us.
They didn’t lose our trail during the horses.”
Then, he looked toward Vergil anxiously, his hands gripping his paper package tightly.
“Vergil… what should we do?”
Vergil frowned slightly, his analytical mind thinking rapidly through the logistics.
Confronting three local thugs directly in the middle of a noble-controlled town was far too risky.
Sam suddenly suggested, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar streets,
“Let’s just hurry back to our inn.
Ham and the others are there.”
Vergil immediately and firmly rejected the idea.
“No.”
Sam stopped walking entirely and stared at him in utter disbelief.
“Why not?”
“We’ll be safe once we’re inside with the other hunters.”
Vergil looked back at him, his gaze piercingly calm.
“If we return directly to the inn right now, they’ll learn exactly where we are staying for the night.”
“And worse, they might simply follow our group all the way back to White Fawn Village tomorrow morning.”
Sam hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“They…
they wouldn’t really take things that far over a simple walk, would they?”
Vergil looked directly into Sam’s eyes, his voice calm and steady.
“Do you truly want to gamble your mother’s safety on that assumption?”
Sam’s brow furrowed deeply, the anxiety evident in his tense jaw.
“Then what on earth should we do?”
Vergil answered immediately, having already mapped out the baseline coordinates in his mind.
“We need to lose them right now and leave the town entirely.”
Sam stared at him in pure shock.
“Leave the town?!”
Even Vergil internally acknowledged that he sounded pathologically, overly cautious.
But he fundamentally refused to take risks involving completely unknown variables.
He did not know Daniel personally.
Nor did he understand the volatile way the noble boy’s mind worked.
And honestly, ordering thugs to secretly stalk commoners simply because they spoke with a girl was not normal, rational behaviour.
So Vergil instinctively assumed the worst possible, most lethal scenario.
That was exactly how cautious people survived to old age.
“Leave town,” Vergil repeated calmly, his tone brooking no argument.
Sam frowned heavily, looking out at the darkening streets.
“And go where?”
“It’ll be pitch black soon, and winter has already arrived.”
Vergil glanced up toward the vast sky.
The setting sun had already turned the horizon a bruised, fiery orange, while heavy dark clouds gathered overhead, waiting to release another heavy layer of snow.
Fortunately, this was not Vergil’s very first visit to the markets of Rock Hill Town.
“Croak Village is only around a two-hour march from the south gate,” he explained rapidly.
“We can secure shelter and stay there for the night.”
“Tomorrow morning, we can either return directly to our own village on foot…”
“Or wait on the main road for Ham and the others to catch up with us.”
Sam’s face still showed immense hesitation; leaving the safety of the inn felt wrong to him.
Vergil spoke again, invoking the ultimate truth of their reality.
“Daniel is directly connected to the Hill Family.”
“You already experienced firsthand what kind of absolute, unchecked power the Hill Family holds over people like us.”
Hearing that, Sam immediately fell silent, his resistance crumbling. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping.com.
Less than a single day earlier, they had both been locked in dark stone chambers alongside hundreds of other hunters, entirely helpless because of the Hill Family’s whims.
Eventually, Sam slowly and reluctantly nodded his head.
Vergil quietly released a held breath of relief in the cold air.
If Sam stubbornly refused to leave, then Vergil escaping the town alone would become practically pointless, as it would still tie back to his identity.
Sam looked toward him again, his hands tightening on his packages.
“So what do we do right now?”
Vergil casually glanced back toward the three tracking boys following them from a distance.
They currently leaned beneath the bare branches of a frosty tree, pretending to examine a shop window while keeping their eyes locked on the village pair.
“We’ll head directly toward the worker district,” Vergil said quietly, adjusting his heavy leather package.
“The alleys there are narrow, unmapped, and twisted.”
“We’ll break their line of sight and lose them entirely inside the maze.”
Sam nodded nervously, his breathing shallow.
Vergil lowered his voice further, his muscles tensing for explosive movement.
“I’ll count to three.”
“Then we sprint.”
Sam nodded again, bracing his footing on the snowy cobblestones.
The two deliberately turned their backs toward the three tracking boys, masking their initial acceleration.
Vergil quietly counted the intervals.
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three.”
“Run.”
Both boys instantly exploded forward into a full-out sprint, kicking up loose snow.
Behind them, Jerry’s eyes widened in sudden realisation.
“They noticed us!
They’re bolting!”
He immediately gave chase, drawing his own inner energy to sprint.
“Move your legs!”
“Master Daniel will be absolutely furious if we fail to learn their identities and backgrounds before nightfall!”
Daniel had originally only wanted the two arrogant village boys beaten to a pulp to teach them a lesson about status.
But because they appeared poor, yet carried themselves with an unfamiliar calm, his naturally suspicious personality made him cautious first.
He wanted confirmation about their underlying backgrounds before leaving a permanent mark.
If they truly possessed no powerful backing or master, only then would he unleash his cruelty openly.
Ahead, Vergil sprinted through the winding streets at full speed, his new winter shoes gripping the ground beautifully.
He cleanly vaulted over abandoned wooden carts, cut sharply through blind intersections, dodged startled pedestrians, and repeatedly slipped into narrow side alleys.
Sam struggled heavily to keep pace behind his friend’s relentless rhythm.
Gradually, the surrounding streets became dirtier, poorer, and increasingly neglected as they burst deep into the worker district of Rock Hill Town.
The wooden buildings here looked decades older, leaning precariously over the paths.
The alleys were significantly narrower, choking out the remaining twilight.
Falling snow mixed with thick, grey mud beneath their pounding feet.
The two village boys rapidly turned through multiple blind corners in a desperate attempt to shake their pursuers once and for all.
Then suddenly,
Vergil’s heart sank slightly.
The narrow alley directly ahead ended abruptly in a massive, solid stone wall.
A complete dead end.
Vergil and Sam instantly turned around, their backs pressed against the freezing stone wall.
At the opposite end of the narrow alley, the three tracking boys slowly walked forward, completely blocking the only exit.
Small flakes of white snow drifted silently through the dim air between the two groups.
Sam’s voice trembled slightly, his knuckles turning white as he held his package.
“Vergil…
what are we going to do?”
Vergil’s eyes narrowed calmly, his analytical mind assessing the distance and spacing.
To keep my Origami Skill hidden from these locals, I’ll have to use my bare fists.
Carefully and smoothly, he placed his newly purchased leather-wrapped package onto the snow beside the wall behind them.
Then, he calmly answered, his tone completely steady,
“Fight.”
“What else can we possibly do at this point?”
The three boys casually strolled deeper into the shadows of the alleyway, confident in their numbers.
The black-haired boy leading them smirked faintly, looking at their trapped targets.
“Finished running, village hicks?”
Vergil stared at them coldly, masking his true strength.
“Who exactly are you?” he asked evenly.
“And why have you been following us across the market?”
One of the burly, thicker boys standing behind the leader immediately opened his mouth to boast.
“Maste, ”
Smack!
The black-haired leader instantly backhanded the boy hard across the stomach, cutting off his words.
“Shut your idiot mouth, Nigel.”
Nigel bent over slightly, groaning while rubbing his sore belly.
The leader then looked back toward Vergil, his smirk returning as he fabricated a cover story.
“Hand over every single one of your valuables and your coin pouches.”
Nigel immediately recovered and echoed loudly from behind,
“Yeah!
Hand over all your valuables right now!”
Vergil slowly and smoothly lowered his centre of gravity, sliding his feet into the precise opening posture of the Rock Wolf Boxing Technique.
Then, he slowly crooked a single finger toward them in a silent challenge.
“Come and take them.”
The leading boy’s expression darkened instantly at the defiance.
“I originally thought we’d just rob you blind and leave you in the dirt.”
“But now…”
“It looks like you ‘village trashes’ desperately needs a proper physical lesson.”
Then, he glanced sideways toward his muscle.
“Nigel.”
“Go deal with him.”
Nigel immediately grinned, cracking his thick knuckles.
“With pleasure, Jerry.”
Nigel cracked his neck once and began walking aggressively toward Vergil.
Then suddenly, he accelerated his pace into a heavy run and swung a massive punch directly at Vergil’s face.
Vergil remained perfectly calm, waiting until the last possible fraction of a second to sidestep.
The heavy punch cut harmlessly through the empty winter air.
In that exact same instant, Vergil fluidly slipped behind Nigel’s exposed flank and kicked out sharply against the back of his right kneecap.
Nigel instantly lost his balance, a loud grunt escaping him as he crashed heavily down onto one knee in the mud.
Vergil immediately spoke without even turning his head back to look.
“Sam.”
“Handle him while he’s down.”
Then, utilising the forward momentum, Vergil charged directly toward the remaining two boys.
Jerry’s smug expression changed slightly at the sudden display of coordination.
“Thomas!
Intercept him!”
The final burly boy immediately stepped forward with a heavy thud to block Vergil’s path.
As Vergil closed the distance, Thomas swung a fast, heavy punch aimed directly at his head.
Vergil quickly jumped backwards, his feet skipping across the snowy mud, narrowly avoiding the knuckles.
Thomas, angered by the miss, immediately pressed forward aggressively, raining down attacks.
Punch after punch flew wildly toward Vergil’s chest and face.
But Vergil continuously and gracefully dodged each strike with minimal, efficient movements.
His precise footwork and defensive head movements clearly carried the foundational, elusive traces of the Rock Wolf Boxing Technique.
On the exact opposite side of the narrow alley stood a weathered brick building with a small, dimly lit coffeehouse occupying its entire second floor.
His sharp gaze remained fixed directly on the unfolding physical confrontation.
Back down in the muddy alley, Vergil leaned his upper body backwards, narrowly dodging another heavy punch from Thomas.
From the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed Jerry slowly sliding his back along the brick wall, trying to manoeuvre directly behind him.
The alley was incredibly narrow.
It was barely wide enough for two grown people to stand side by side comfortably.
Vergil pretended not to notice Jerry’s flanking movements at all, continuing to focus his defensive attention entirely on Thomas.
But he knew deep down he could not keep dodging endlessly in such a confined space.
Sooner or later, he would accidentally back straight into the perimeter of Nigel and Sam’s ongoing fight.
Without a shred of hesitation, Vergil smoothly channelled a trace amount of his inner energy down into his legs and fists.
The structural enhancement remained extremely slight, keeping his aura completely masked.
It was just enough.
Before Thomas could recover his balance to throw another punch, Vergil suddenly burst forward at an explosive speed.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
His hardened fists repeatedly and rhythmically hammered directly into Thomas’s exposed chest and stomach according to the precise, driving rhythm of the Rock Wolf Boxing Technique.
Thomas’s eyes widened in absolute shock as the air left his lungs.
He stumbled backwards repeatedly across the slush, grunting in agonising pain.
Vergil continued driving him backwards, intentionally steering his massive frame toward Jerry’s hidden position along the wall.
At the final, calculated moment, Vergil struck Thomas hard once more across the ribs, forcing him backwards one last time.
Then, Vergil abruptly twisted his upper body mid-stride and pivoted to punch directly toward an exposed Jerry.
But right before his knuckles could connect with the leader’s face,
Bang!
A heavy, solid strike slammed violently into Vergil’s unprotected back.
He stumbled forward several steps, a painful grunt escaping his throat.
Nigel.
Vergil instantly realised what had gone wrong with his tactical map.
He had completely ignored the outcome of Sam and Nigel’s side fight.
Originally, he had only expected Sam to use his hunter reflexes to delay Nigel briefly while he cleared the field.
Apparently, Sam had failed his assignment completely.
Still, Vergil noted an important, reassuring detail through his pain.
He had never once heard Sam screaming out for help during the scuffle.
Unable to pursue his attack on Jerry anymore due to his broken momentum, Vergil immediately shifted his stance and unleashed the signature final move of the Rock Wolf Boxing Technique.
His right arm swung upward violently in a lethal, rising arc.
A faint, phantom wolf-like howl echoed eerily through the cold stone alley.
Boom!
His reinforced fist struck directly beneath Thomas’s exposed jawline.
Thomas’s head snapped backwards violently, his eyes rolling up.
Then, his heavy body collapsed onto the muddy ground with a dull thud.
He was completely, utterly unconscious.
Vergil immediately turned his body around to face the remaining threats.
Both Jerry and Nigel froze, staring at the fallen giant in visible shock.
“Thomas!”
Nigel roared angrily, his face contorting before he charged forward recklessly through the snow.
Vergil attacked at the exact same time, matching his momentum.
His body lunged forward like a starved wolf pouncing directly toward its prey.
Empowered by his remaining trace amount of inner energy, his fist slammed directly into the centre of Nigel’s incoming face.
Crack.
Nigel staggered backwards several paces, dark blood instantly spilling from his split lips and broken nose.
Absolute rage consumed his common sense.
Screaming wildly, Nigel prepared to charge forward blindly once again.
“Stop right there, Nigel.”
Jerry’s sharp, authoritative voice cut through the cold alley.
Nigel froze in his tracks.
His eyes remained bloodshot with adrenaline, while thick blood dripped steadily from his jaw.
“But Jerry…
Thomas is, ”
“You’re fundamentally not his opponent in a straight fight,” Jerry interrupted coldly, his voice tight.
“And Thomas is merely unconscious, not dead.
Control yourself.”
Jerry then slowly turned his full attention toward Vergil, his demeanour changing.
“Friend,” he said carefully, lifting his hands slightly.
“You’re an inner disciple from the Rock Wolf Gym, right?”
“If you’d simply said so earlier outside the shops, none of this misunderstanding would’ve happened.”
Vergil narrowed his eyes, keeping his guard up.
“Would it truly matter to your group whether I am a member or not?”
Jerry forced out a stiff, highly uncomfortable smile.
“In this specific town,” he said evenly, “only three entities truly matter.”
“The Valemont Duchy’s Luce Knights.”
“The Hill Family.”
“And the Rock Wolf Fighting Gym.”
Vergil’s eyes narrowed further, absorbing the political structure of the town.
“So?”
Jerry pressed his lips together briefly, swallowing his pride.
“So…”
“Can we take our guy and leave the alley now?”
Vergil smiled sweetly, a look of mock innocence on his face.
“You certainly can.”
Jerry instantly frowned, sensing the trap.
“I hear a massive ‘but’ coming.”
Vergil’s sweet smile widened slightly.
“Leave every single one of your valuables on the dirt first.”
Jerry stared at him silently for several long seconds, calculating his chances against a Rock Wolf practitioner.
Then, he slowly and reluctantly nodded his head.
Without another word of argument, he untied the leather coin pouch hanging from his belt and tossed it onto the frozen ground.
Then, he sharply elbowed a glaring Nigel.
“Do exactly as he says.
Now.”
Nigel glared furiously at Vergil, but still removed his own pouch and threw it down into the slush as well.
Jerry then pointed a finger toward the unconscious Thomas lying in the mud.
“What about his pouch?”
Vergil calmly nodded toward the fallen brawler.
Jerry walked over, knelt down to remove Thomas’s heavy coin pouch, and added it beside the others in the snow.
“Now, can we finally leave?”
Vergil waved his hand casually toward the open alley exit.
“Get lost.”
Without another word, Jerry and Nigel lifted the deadweight of Thomas between their shoulders and hurried away from the dead end.
Only after their hurried footsteps disappeared completely did Vergil finally relax his tensed muscles slightly.
He bent down and picked up the three heavy coin pouches, feeling the substantial weight of bronze inside.
Then, he immediately walked back toward the wall to check on Sam.
Sam lay completely motionless against the cold stone of the alley wall.
Vergil quickly crouched beside his friend and pressed a calm palm firmly against Sam’s chest.
Feeling a steady, rhythmic heartbeat beneath the fabric, he quietly sighed in immense relief.
Then,
A sudden, sharp pain exploded violently across the very back of his head.
Vergil’s vision instantly blurred into absolute static.
Total darkness swallowed everything.
Next Chapter coming up in a few hours.