Chapter 23: Radegart Riders

"Hey, how about we form our own raiding party? We can hit a few villages in Hilzland and be back before the invasion starts," someone suggested, sparking mixed reactions from the crowd—some eager, some hesitant.

"That’s a great idea!" Farvald exclaimed, clearly excited. Although his uncle didn't want him to join the army, a local raiding group seemed like a safer bet. At least with familiar faces, there was less chance of betrayal.

“I’m in,” Andric added, the lone outsider in the tavern. Farvald’s uncle shot him a wary look but said nothing. Andric’s interest lay more in the rumored enchanted castle and the possibility of finding a wand.

“Who else is up for it?” the initial proposer asked. Hands shot up, including Farvald’s and Andric’s.

“Wait a second. I like the idea, but can’t we call it something else? Raiders makes us sound like villains,” someone suggested.

“He’s got a point,” another agreed.

After some brainstorming, someone proposed, “How about the Radegart Riders?”

“I like it.”

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“Yeah, that works.”

With a new name, the group began to take shape. By the next day, eight of them had gathered at the town’s edge, ready to finalize their plans.

“What’s the traveler going to do about a horse?” Carlman, a young man, asked, eyeing Andric.

“He better carry his own food. I’m not lugging any extra,” Theudobald grumbled. He didn’t like outsiders joining their group.

Andric tossed a silver coin to Theudobald. “Will you carry my provisions for this?”

“Nope,” Theudobald replied, tossing the coin back.

“It’s fine. We’re not leaving today, right?” Hagano said, lounging on the ground without a care.

“I don’t like having someone not from our town in the group,” Isbrand, the youngest, muttered.

The brothers Filibert and Gerbold, both around Carlman’s age, remained silent but seemed to agree with Isbrand.

Despite the tension, Farvald introduced Andric to everyone. Theudobald reluctantly accepted him since he was in the Novice realm.

That evening, Theudobald declared himself the leader and went to register the Radegart Riders officially. Andric returned to the tavern to prepare. He packed food, water, and a weapon in a carrying sack. His storage bag was filled with preserved food and water bottles, enough for the journey.

He still needed a horse. So, he decided to buy one.

“Waitress, a cup of wine for everyone,” Andric announced, tossing her a silver coin. The patrons cheered.

“Anyone got a horse for sale? I’ll trade a martial technique manual for the Severing Slash Technique,” he called out.

Immediately, townspeople began shouting offers. Young horses, strong horses, various breeds—Andric was overwhelmed.

“These folks are just trying to sell you something sight unseen,” Farvald’s uncle said, stepping in. “Bring your horses here at sunrise if you want to make a deal.”

“Thank you, Uncle. That’s helpful,” Andric replied, grateful for the assistance.

The tavern buzzed with talk about the upcoming horse market and speculation about Andric’s mysterious background. Andric, meanwhile, felt a bit anxious about riding for the first time but trusted his strength to manage any horse he chose.