Chapter 7 - First Encounter

The distance between Holt Castle and Blackreach City was about four hundred miles. Wesley knew it would take him at most four days to reach Blackreach if he stayed on the main road. However, he decided against the main route, preferring to explore more along the way rather than sticking to a safe but boring path. With a month until the Academy's entrance exam, there was no need to rush.

Veering off the main road, Wesley took a smaller, unpaved path with far less traffic and kept walking for a few hours. This was, after all, his first time traveling outside Holt Castle, and as he walked forward into the unknown, he felt a thrill rising within him. He looked around at the trees, birds, and rocks, his excitement growing. Then, something unusual caught his eye.

A small wooden building stood by the side of the road, with a sign that read *Restaurant.* Such buildings were common along the main road, where merchants and travelers needed places to eat and rest, but this was a quiet, secluded trail. Wesley wondered why anyone would open a business in such a desolate place.

Overcome by curiosity, he decided to check it out. Stepping inside, Wesley was even more surprised by what he saw. This remote restaurant, in the middle of nowhere, was packed with people, all laughing, shouting, eating, and drinking. The noise and bustle stood in stark contrast to the empty road he had walked along, and he hadn’t seen a single soul until now.

The moment Wesley entered, the lively chatter and laughter in the hall fell silent. The patrons seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see them. Noticing their astonishment, Wesley only smiled and made his way to the counter. Although he was five feet tall and considered tall for his age, he barely reached the shoulders of the men around him.

He took a seat at the counter and, undeterred by the stares, turned to the bartender and said, “The house special, please.”

Wesley’s voice seemed to bring the bartender, who had been staring at him, back to his senses. With a quick nod and a meek smile, the bartender replied, “Yes, yes. Coming right up.”

Wesley nodded in return, then pulled a book from the small dark satchel slung over his shoulder. He knew he couldn’t use Dark Dimension in front of people, so he’d packed a few essentials—some books and some gold—in the satchel. His dark sword also hung visibly at his hip for the same reason. He was indeed intrigued by the people in this restaurant; not only was their presence in this secluded spot strange, but they also all looked like seasoned soldiers. Wesley figured they were either troops from a nearby fort or bandits, though he wasn’t sure which.

Soon, the bartender set a dish down in front of Wesley and spoke in a mild tone, “Here you go, roasted rabbit.”

“Thanks.”

Since rabbit meat was considered commoner’s food, Wesley had never had a chance to try it before, and he was eager to taste it. Just as he was about to dig in, a raspy voice sounded from behind him:

“Young man, I don’t think you can eat a whole rabbit alone. Why not let this old man help you with it?”

This remark sparked a round of laughter from the men nearby. Wesley only smiled at the gray-bearded man who stood behind him and replied, “Haha, old man, where are my manners? I was just excited, as I’ve never had rabbit before. Please, join me.”

Wesley’s words caught the room’s attention. The mention of never having tasted rabbit before made it clear to the men that Wesley was a noble, and an unusual gleam appeared in their eyes. The gray-bearded man looked at Wesley sharply but then burst into laughter, took a seat beside him, and said, “That’s the spirit, young man. You should never eat alone when your elders are standing around.”

“Haha, I’ll keep that in mind. Now, let’s eat.”

Wesley and the gray-bearded man devoured the rabbit together, and within minutes, only bones remained on the platter. Wesley sighed, savoring the taste. Despite its simple preparation, the rabbit meat had been delicious. He couldn’t understand why nobles avoided such a delicacy. Just as he was lost in thought, the gray-bearded man beside him spoke up:

“Young man, since you fed this old fella, I’ll give you a friendly tip.”

“Oh?” Wesley replied, his interest piqued.

“You see, unlike the main road, these backroads don’t have many guards patrolling, so there are plenty of bandits around. In fact, I hear there’s a bloody band operating in this area, so you should be careful when you travel.”

The old man’s words set off a round of laughter from the others in the hall, confirming Wesley’s suspicions that they were indeed bandits. Suddenly, another man approached Wesley from behind, his face twisted in an arrogant smirk, and said:

“Haha, young brat. That’s a nice sword you have there—mind if I take a look?”

Wesley turned around with a polite smile and replied, “Of course. Here you go.”

In an instant, the man’s head was severed cleanly from his neck, his face frozen in that same arrogant expression as it hit the floor. This was one of Wesley’s Silent Sword techniques, *Silent Draw.* Wesley laughed and said loudly:

“Did I mention that those who see my sword often end up without a head?”

The entire room fell into a stunned silence. All anyone had seen was Wesley reaching for his sword with a smile, and in the next moment, the man’s head had flown off. As Wesley’s mocking words sank in, the others realized he was indeed the culprit.

Ignoring their stares, Wesley turned back to the gray-bearded man and said with a faintly ominous smile, “I’ll keep that in mind, old man. Thanks for the warning.”

The gray-bearded man visibly shuddered. Without waiting for Wesley to finish, he jumped back five feet, drawing his sword. The other men followed suit, pulling out their weapons and glaring hatefully at Wesley, though none dared approach him, remembering what happened to the first man.

“What’s wrong, old man?” Wesley said calmly, looking at him. “You seem rather pale all of a sudden.”

“You… do you know who we are?” the gray-bearded man asked in a shaky voice.

“Nope. I just came here to eat.”

“You’ll pay for killing our brother!” Before the gray-bearded man could respond, another bandit shouted and charged at Wesley, followed closely by four others.

Wesley shrugged and unsheathed his sword. Since they were already on guard, he couldn’t use *Silent Draw* again, so he walked toward the oncoming group, sword at the ready. When they were close enough, the bandits swung their swords at him in unison.

Wesley simply moved forward, sidestepping each swing with minimal effort. Moments later, he stood unscathed, his dark sword in hand. Around him lay four headless men, while the fifth clutched his throat, blood streaming through his fingers.

This was Wesley’s second Silent Sword technique, *Silent Counter,* which used an enemy’s attack momentum against them. Wesley was mildly surprised to see one of the bandits still alive, as he hadn’t expected any to survive his Silent Counter. It confirmed that these men were skilled fighters, hardened by countless battles. As if acknowledging Wesley’s assessment, the remaining thirty or so bandits quickly formed a shield wall, their backs pressed to the wall.

The shield wall, a tactic usually employed in outnumbered skirmishes, was intended to make a group almost immovable. It was an odd choice to use against a single opponent, but after seeing the swift end of their comrades, it was clear they were taking no chances. Wesley smiled, impressed, and sheathed his sword as he said softly:

“My apologies, old man. It seems I’ve killed a few of your friends.”

The bandits’ eyes widened at Wesley’s words. He didn’t even consider them opponents, and even more unsettling, he seemed entirely unfazed by the killings—as if he’d even enjoyed it. A cold sweat broke out on the backs of the men in the shield wall. The gray-bearded man stepped forward, his sword drawn, his face etched with both anger and wariness as he spoke:

“Brat, we don’t care if a few hot-headed idiots died. But who the hell are you?”

“Haha, old man, I’m just a simple traveler who came here to eat.”

Hearing this, the bandits let out a small sigh of relief. Though the gray-bearded man kept his guard up, he felt a glimmer of reassurance that Wesley wasn’t here specifically for them. He sheathed his sword, gave Wesley a calculating smile, and said:

“I’m afraid, however, that we can’t let you go without paying.”

His words triggered a wave of curses among the bandits. Why provoke this monster further when they’d rather let him be? Wesley, however, was amused. He knew his sword techniques were a cover for his magic, and if the fight continued, these seasoned bandits might see through his techniques, forcing him to use his powers. Laughing, he reached into his satchel, pulled out a small pouch, and called to the bartender:

“Bartender, drinks and food for everyone!” He tossed the pouch to the bartender, who caught it with a look of surprise.

The gray-bearded man laughed heartily, turning to his men and barking orders to clean up the bodies. Then he looked back at Wesley and said, “Haha, young man, you keep surprising me. Come on, let’s eat.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hours later, the small restaurant was once again filled with laughter and merrymaking, as if nothing had happened. At the counter, Wesley and the gray-bearded man were talking while eating roasted rabbit.

"Tell me, Wesley, where did you learn how to fight? I’ve never seen such sword techniques before."

"Haha, Orion, you flatter me too much. These techniques of mine are nothing. I’m more impressed by how organized you and your friends are."

Orion noticed that Wesley wasn't comfortable talking about his sword techniques, so he simply scratched his gray beard and let it go. He then spoke again with a laugh:

"Ah, you don’t want to talk about it. But tell me, where are you headed? You can't just be going around killing random bandits."

"I’m headed to Blackreach City. I have some business there."

"Oh, Blackreach City. I haven’t been there since my mercenary days. The ladies there are worth spending all your wealth on." Orion laughed loudly at the thought.

"Old man Orion, you’re turning out to be a bad influence on me," Wesley laughed as well.

Wesley really liked this old man Orion. He was straightforward and never hid his thoughts. Wesley enjoyed talking with these common bandits more than he enjoyed chatting with the Kingdom’s nobility.

After hours of talking with Orion, Wesley learned that this restaurant was one of many scattered across the back roads of the kingdom, specifically made for bandits since they couldn't visit normal restaurants. He also learned that Orion was the leader of a troop of about three hundred bandits known as the Crimson Troop, and they were celebrating here today after raiding a caravan.

Eventually, Wesley decided it was time to leave. As he was saying his farewells to the men, Orion suddenly called out to him:

"Little Wesley, I have something for you."

Wesley instantly turned back with a look of interest as Orion approached him, holding a small parchment in his hand.

"This is a detailed map of the back roads. Unlike the main road, which runs straight, these back roads can get rather confusing. It also marks all the bandit-friendly restaurants."

As Wesley looked at the map, he noticed that it was far more detailed than the usual maps he saw at the palace. The details on this map were specifically designed for bandit use, showing bandit restaurants, hiding places, army forts, and so on.

"Haha, old man Orion, this is a rather handy map. Thank you," Wesley said with sincerity.

"Don’t mention it. Although we’re bandits, we respect strength, and you, little Wesley, are indeed strong."

"Thank you, old man Orion. I’ll come visit next time I’m in the area."

"Yes, yes. Make sure you do. Then I’ll have you treat me to some roasted rabbit."

After saying his goodbyes, Wesley immediately set off. With the map of the back roads in hand, he didn’t have to be too cautious about his route. But as he walked, a multitude of thoughts ran through his head. The biggest concern was the need to improve his Silent Sword techniques. At their current level, if he faced strong opponents, he would be forced to use magic—and he would much rather avoid that. Also, the fact that bandits like Orion's Crimson Troop were so numerous showed that the situation in the kingdom wasn’t as great as he’d been led to believe while in the palace. However, this was none of his concern.

He simply continued moving forward, feeling a surge of excitement at the marvels he might find on these back roads.