Seven hours later, the sun had already begun setting beyond the snowy mountains when the caravan finally reached the northern trading post of Wilhelm Kingdom.
Tall wooden walls surrounded the settlement while armed guards patrolled the entrance carefully.
Torches burned along the watchtowers, their flames swaying against the freezing wind.
The moment the caravan approached the gate, several guards stepped forward.
“Halt,” one of them ordered.
“State your business.”
The merchant quickly climbed down from his wagon.
“Supply delivery from the southern route,” he answered nervously while handing over a document.
The guard inspected it carefully before signaling the gates to open.
As the caravan entered, John silently observed the surroundings.
The trading post was far larger than he expected.
Merchants, mercenaries, travelers, and soldiers filled the crowded streets.
Snow-covered warehouses stood near the northern wall while heavily armed men guarded certain areas far more strictly than normal trade required.
Nick quietly moved his horse beside John.
“This place reeks of trouble,” he muttered.
John nodded slightly.
Near the center of the trading post stood a large black warehouse guarded by men wearing dark cloaks instead of Wilhelm military armor.
The merchant noticed John staring toward the building.
“That’s where Warren’s men usually collect the shipments,” he whispered carefully.
John’s eyes narrowed.
“So Warren is already here.”
Before the merchant could answer, a tall man suddenly appeared near the warehouse entrance.
He wore an expensive fur-lined coat, black gloves, and a calm smile that somehow felt dangerous.
Several armed guards followed closely behind him.
The merchant immediately went pale.
“That’s him…” he whispered fearfully.
“Warren.”
Warren’s sharp gaze slowly moved across the caravan before stopping on John and Nick.
For a brief moment, silence filled the cold evening air.
Then Warren smiled faintly.
“Interesting,” he said calmly.
“I don’t recognize those two.”
John calmly stepped down from his horse while Warren and his guards approached the caravan.
Warren’s sharp eyes studied him carefully.
“You’re not one of the usual escorts,” Warren said.
John gave a faint smile.
“I came because I heard you deal in valuable goods.”
Warren crossed his arms.
“And?”
John slowly removed the sword hanging at his waist before handing it toward Warren.
“I thought a man like you might appreciate quality weapons.”
Nick immediately understood what John was trying to do and handed over his weapon as well.
The moment Warren held the blades, his expression changed slightly.
Even under the dim torchlight, the craftsmanship was obvious.
“These are impressive,” Warren admitted quietly while examining the steel.
“Far better than anything sold in this region.”
John spoke calmly.
“And I have access to more.”
Warren looked at him with growing interest.
“What kind of weapons?”
“The kind kingdoms kill each other for.”
For the first time, Warren smiled genuinely.
“Then perhaps we should speak privately.”
He motioned for them to follow him.
Inside the large warehouse, Warren led them upstairs into a luxurious personal room hidden above the trading floor. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
A fireplace burned warmly inside while maps and documents covered a large wooden table.
The moment they entered, Warren poured himself a drink.
“So,” he said while sitting down, “tell me about this deal.”
Before John could answer, one of Warren’s guards suddenly entered the room hurriedly and whispered something into another guard’s ear.
The guard’s expression immediately changed.
He turned toward Warren.
“Sir, there seems to be a problem with the shipment.”
Warren frowned slightly.
“What problem?”
“The merchant returned empty-handed.”
Warren clicked his tongue in annoyance before standing.
“Handle it carefully. I’ll return shortly.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, silence filled the room.
Then-
Nick instantly moved.
He grabbed Warren from behind and slammed him against the floor before the man could even react.
Warren tried reaching for a hidden dagger, but Nick struck the back of his neck hard enough to knock him unconscious.
John immediately stood.
“Move him.”
Together, they dragged Warren through a hidden storage corridor behind the warehouse and into an abandoned dark cellar beneath the trading post.
Meanwhile, outside the room, Warren’s personal guard quickly discovered their master was missing.
“What do you mean he disappeared?!”
The guards immediately spread throughout the trading post searching every corner.
During the confusion, the merchant quietly escaped with his wagon and disappeared into the snowy winds.
Hours later, Warren slowly regained consciousness.
His hands were tied tightly to a wooden chair while a single lantern illuminated the dark cellar.
The moment he saw John and Nick standing before him, anger filled his face.
“You fools…” Warren growled.
“You have no idea what kind of trouble you’re in right now.”
John stared at him coldly.
“We’ll see about that.”
He stepped closer.
“What are you doing with those weapons?”
Warren smirked despite his condition.
“I sell them to my men.”
John’s eyes narrowed immediately.
That answer made no sense.
The guards outside carried cheap, poorly maintained weapons.
Nothing close to the quality being smuggled here.
John asked again.
“What are you really doing with them?”
Warren gave the exact same answer.
“I already told you.”
For a moment, silence filled the cellar.
Then John turned toward Nick.
“Cut one of his fingers.”
Nick froze slightly.
“…Is that necessary?”
John looked directly at him.
“Yes.”
His voice carried no hesitation.
Nick slowly drew his dagger.
Warren’s confident expression finally cracked.
“You wouldn’t dare-”
A scream echoed through the cellar.
Blood dripped onto the stone floor as Warren trembled violently.
“What are you doing with the weapons?”
Warren clenched his teeth painfully.
“I… told you already…”
John gave another signal.
Nick hesitated this time.
But seeing John’s cold stare, he forced himself to continue.
Again.
And again.
Until all of Warren’s fingers were gone.
Warren’s body shook uncontrollably while tears mixed with sweat and blood.
Yet even then-
“Nothing…” he whispered weakly.
“I know… nothing…”
John silently stared at him for several seconds.
Then he looked toward Nick.
Nick understood the signal instantly.
But this time, he hesitated.
“…John…”
John said nothing.
His eyes alone gave the order.
Warren suddenly began mumbling a quiet childhood poem through broken breaths, almost as if trying to comfort himself before death.
The dark cellar soon fell silent.
Afterward, Nick stood there motionless, staring at the blood-covered floor.
“We… did the right thing… right?”
John cleaned the blood from his gloves calmly.
“Yes.”
But Nick could no longer recognize the person standing before him.
The John he once knew had changed.
This version of him felt colder…
darker…
almost like a completely different person.
Yet Nick stayed silent.
This was not the right time to question him.
A short while later, footsteps approached the cellar entrance.
The merchant had returned carrying two fresh horses.
“I managed to avoid the guards,” he whispered nervously.
Before leaving, John suddenly looked at him.
“What’s your name?”
The merchant hesitated.
“…Am I in trouble?”
John shook his head.
“No.”
The man slowly relaxed.
“My name is Peter Whitehood.”
John nodded once before mounting his horse.
“Leave this place immediately, Peter.”
“I will.”
Without wasting another moment, John and Nick rode south through the freezing night.
Ten exhausting ho urs later, they finally caught up with Sir Carol’s royal escort only five hours away from Wilhelm Kingdom’s capital city.
As the first light of dawn appeared over the horizon, Nick quietly glanced toward John once more.
But the more he looked at him…
…the more unfamiliar he became.