All in all, while Brand wasn’t a thick-skinned Knight like Yelsen, he was no longer the helpless noble young master of the past. Although his only option when faced with Bandits trying to rob the caravan was to stay put in the carriage, he could at least speak a little louder now... AHEM!
Spurred by the threat of Bandits, Brand felt a rare urge to actually do something productive. According to his teacher, once a person became a Junior Mage Apprentice, they would awaken a Spiritual Space. This Spiritual Space could store a certain quantity of their own Spiritual Power. The stored Spiritual Power could then be drawn upon when needed, temporarily granting a higher Spiritual Power cap. This meant a great deal to Brand!
With his current Spiritual Power limit, if he used his Imaginary Manifestation Talent to create a liquid, the volume would be around three hundred milliliters. However, if he were to manifest a solid object, it would only amount to the size of five or six coffee beans. Its usefulness was extremely limited!
In order to maximize his Talent’s potential as quickly as possible, Brand had purchased a small batch of Demon Cores before leaving the academy. Although the quantity wasn’t enough to instantly propel him to the rank of Junior Mage Apprentice, it would undoubtedly accelerate the process. Then, under Catherine’s amazed gaze, Brand "pulled out" a Demon Core the size of a baby’s fist from his shirt and focused on absorbing it.
From Brand’s perspective, the rest of the journey was undoubtedly much more calm. At the very least, he didn’t see any more Bandits attacking the caravan. The group traveled safely like this for a whole day.
Suddenly, a Scout galloped back from the front lines to deliver a hurried report. Seeing the Scout’s frantic demeanor, they exchanged passwords to confirm his identity. As one of the caravan’s co-leaders, Yelsen quickly asked if he had discovered anything unusual ahead.
The Scout didn’t waste any time. "About one and a half kilometers ahead, someone has piled up rubble and wooden logs to block the road."
"Everyone on high alert! Defensive formation!" Yelsen shouted.
Following his order, the caravan immediately shifted its formation. Unlike their casual response to the attack yesterday, the carriages quickly gathered together this time. The Guards on horseback formed a protective perimeter around the carriages and the personnel within.
At the same time, Yelsen fired a Signal Arrow trailing white smoke into the sky, commanding the deployed Scouts to report back. He deduced that since a roadblock had been set up ahead, it was highly likely that enemies were waiting in ambush nearby.
The Scouts operated within a two-kilometer radius around the convoy. According to their previous orders, they were supposed to fire red Signal Arrows into the sky upon encountering enemies. Although they hadn’t seen any warning signals yet, it was entirely possible that the Scouts had been taken out before they could even sound the alarm.
After all, if Yelsen were the one ambushing the caravan, he wouldn’t give the Scouts a chance to signal either. He would sneak up on the convoy and launch a sudden strike, leaving them with absolutely no time to react. Follow the newest chapters on novelping . com.
The moment after Yelsen fired his Signal Arrow, dozens of white-plumed Signal Arrows slowly rose into the air in a circle around the caravan. The Guards all turned their solemn gazes toward the road behind them. Only the Scouts in that specific direction hadn’t responded. The enemy was coming from the rear.
A heavy, ominous tension settled over the entire caravan. At that moment, Guard Captain Anderson stepped forward and gave Yelsen a knowing look. Yelsen instantly understood.
"Guard Captain Anderson is taking full command from here on out!"
Dropping that brief order, Yelsen turned his horse around and headed straight for Brand’s carriage. Although he was confident in his Guards’ strength, Yelsen decided to play it safe and hand over command to Guard Captain Anderson. It wasn’t because he was scared! He simply wanted to fulfill his duty as an older brother and protect his fragile younger brother. After all, he was currently just a Senior Knight Apprentice. Quite a few of the Scouts were actually stronger than him.
Over at Brand’s carriage, Catherine, who was guarding the door, spotted Yelsen approaching and opened the door to let him in. Brand cast a bewildered look at his brother, who immediately plastered himself against the window upon entering. He had assumed Yelsen came to tell him something important... so why was he hiding by the window?
Logically speaking, shouldn’t Yelsen be outside boldly directing the troops? He was one of the caravan’s leaders! Why was he hiding in here with him? With such cowardice, how could he possibly revitalize the family?!
However, seeing the grave expression on Yelsen’s face, Brand squashed his urge to tease him and instead began to worry about the situation outside.
"What’s going on?" he asked.
"It’s hard to say," Yelsen replied grimly. "The enemy is likely coming from behind. The Scouts in that direction were taken out before they could even fire a Signal Arrow."
Brand’s expression also turned serious. Soon, chaotic battle cries echoed from the rear of the caravan.
"Crescent formation! Hold the line!"
Having taken over command from Yelsen, Guard Captain Anderson stood atop one of the carriages. He was clad in Heavy Armor, wielding a Shield in one hand and a Long Spear in the other. Looking down at the infantry smoothly shifting into formation, Anderson nodded in satisfaction. This chapter was taken from novelping(.)com without permission.
Although the majority of the Guards were Cavalry, the trade route was simply too narrow, and they were flanked by dense forests. Taking everything into consideration, Anderson opted for a dismounted infantry defense. While the enemies ahead looked similar to yesterday’s attackers—all wearing rough linen clothing and wielding a mismatched assortment of weapons—their numbers this time were far greater. Moreover, he keenly sensed faint traces of a genuine threat lurking within the approaching ranks. Given the safety of the two young masters, he had to treat this carefully.
"Raise Shields!"
At Anderson’s command, the well-trained Guards swiftly raised their Shields, protecting themselves and their comrades.
The next moment, a scattered volley of wildly inaccurate Arrows flew over from the enemy side, raining down upon the Guards’ Shields and being easily deflected.
As the Bandits closed into a certain distance, Anderson barked out his next orders. "Lower Shields! Ready Spears! Thrust!"
Under Anderson’s command, the Guards of the Holland family’s caravan acted like a giant hedgehog, methodically reaping the lives of the Bandits. However, the enemy still held a significant numerical advantage, and the crescent formation was slowly forced to retreat and tighten under the Bandits’ suicidal pressure. Even so, the current situation was still within Anderson’s expectations.
While their opponents had the numbers, the vast majority of them were nothing but a disorganized rabble. The Holland family Guards currently holding the outermost perimeter all possessed the strength of at least a Senior Knight Apprentice, just like Yelsen. Therefore, even though the defensive line was repeatedly forced back, the enemy would have to sacrifice a tremendous amount of time and blood to break through with such crude offensive tactics. Anderson highly doubted this motley crew had the courage to last that long.
Suddenly, Anderson’s gaze sharpened. Swatting aside an Arrow that shot toward him with his left-hand Shield, he swiftly raised the Long Spear in his right hand. Taking aim at a particular figure who had used the crowd to "charge" toward the front lines, he hurled the weapon with explosive force.
With a loud THUD, a Bandit was pierced straight through the heart by Anderson’s spear.
Although he dressed exactly like the other Bandits around him, the aura he emitted just before death exposed his extraordinary strength—he was a Middle Knight. If Anderson hadn’t reacted so quickly, their ironclad formation might have been torn open by this single "Bandit."
Anderson’s expression soured. He knew this was just the beginning.