Chapter Twelve: Char's Highway Robbery

(Haha, the first update these days has all been early. To have the chapter ready in the morning, I’ve been getting up very early to write. The early bird catches the worm—everyone, bring out your recommendation votes to reward me~~~)

Chapter Twelve: [Shaya Holds Up the Road]

The four adventurers walked up to the spot where Shaya had camped and immediately stopped. The blond swordsman at the front frowned, his expression changing slightly. Instantly, he raised his hand, his face full of vigilance, and barked, "Stop! Someone’s been here!"

There was a cold arrogance in his tone, and his blue eyes darted around, scrutinizing the ground. "There are signs of a struggle here. Hmm, look!" He pointed ahead. On the ground lay the remains of the giant wolf: its pelt had been stripped off, the bones dismembered, and it was reduced to a pile of meat scraps.

He strode over to a pile of fire pit ashes, crouched down, and touched the embers. Standing up, he gave a haughty and satisfied look as he declared to his companions, "Hmph, the fire’s cold—they’ve gone far."

Perched in the tree, Shaya felt a bit puzzled. Huh, that doesn’t sound quite right. The fire being cold means people are gone? That might be true in an ordinary forest, but… this is the Wildfire Plains!

In a typical forest, campers keep the fire burning all night to ward off wild beasts. But a seasoned adventurer on the Wildfire Plains would never do that—because here, the monsters aren’t afraid of fire!

If you dared to light a fire at night, it would be like announcing to all the monsters in the area: "Come on! There’s a feast waiting for you right here!"

That’s why Shaya had extinguished his fire before sleeping last night. Now, if that blond swordsman touched the ashes and they were still warm, that would be strange indeed.

For someone as experienced as Shaya, judging if someone passed by or how long ago they left involved much more—examining trampled grass, checking dew on the roots, or even looking for traces of waste left behind.

Relying on the fire’s ashes alone… Only the greenhorns in bard’s tales would do that.

The burly giant laughed heartily, his voice booming. "Gree, you’re always the most careful."

The swordsman named Gree looked quite proud, though he tried to maintain a solitary, aloof demeanor. "Hmph, surviving outdoors demands some skill. It’s nothing special."

Just then, the man in leather armor and a hooded cloak wandered off, bent down, and picked up a handful of dry, black powder from the ground. "What’s this stuff?"

He glanced at his companions. The blond swordsman and the giant quickly gathered around, muttering among themselves. None seemed certain. Seeing everyone looking at him, Gree pretended to ponder, then said confidently, "It’s probably some powder the campers used—ah, yes! It’s insect repellent. I’ve seen this before."

He looked at the man in the black robe. "Master Mage, you’re the most learned among us. Care to see if I’m right?"

A mage? So this man in the leather robe was indeed a wizard?

The short, thin mage hesitated, took some of the powder, brought it to his nose, and sniffed deeply, still unsure…

Hidden in the tree, Shaya frowned. What’s so interesting? That’s just porcupine dung.

Porcupines were low-level magical beasts—not especially dangerous alone, but they lived in groups and would swarm an enemy. Even mightier monsters avoided provoking them. Their droppings had a unique smell. Last night, Shaya scattered some here so other monsters would think this was a porcupine’s territory and stay away, allowing him and Rayming to sleep safely.

Many in the Wildfire Plains did the same. Any seasoned adventurer would recognize it at a glance.

But something odd occurred. The four well-equipped adventurers circled around, inspecting the powder for ages. The swordsman insisted it was insect repellent, the giant thought it was charcoal ash.

As for the "mage," after a moment’s thought, he dipped his finger in the powder, put it in his mouth, and sucked on it…

(Ugh!!)

Shaya nearly fell from the tree at this sight.

The "mage" savored it for a while, then raised his head and pronounced with authority, "There’s nothing to argue about. Clearly, this is seasoning discarded by the campers. Hmm, it’s got a salty taste, too."

Shaya: "…………"

Watching the mage smacking his lips, Shaya felt his hair stand on end. His limbs went weak, his throat filled with nausea—he nearly vomited on the spot.

Since the learned "mage" had rendered his judgment, the giant planted his battle axe in the ground and laughed gruffly, "Whoever tossed away seasoning is a fool! Lucky for us, we’re out of it. Not another tasteless roast today!"

He picked up a stone and tossed it into the woods. With a flurry, a flock of birds rose in alarm. The giant laughed, "What a flock of animals! Marsha, shoot one for our lunch!"

The blond swordsman Gree clapped and laughed, "Yes, Marsha! You’re our renowned ‘New Moon Goddess’—show us your miraculous archery!"

The woman archer named Marsha gave a reserved, proud smile, swiftly pulled down her longbow and drew a feathered arrow. With a fluid motion, she stepped forward, bent her knee, and nocked the arrow—the pose was indeed graceful. In one smooth draw, she bent the iron-banded longbow like a full moon!

Hidden in the tree, Shaya’s heart skipped a beat. Impressive! That iron-banded bow—most strong men couldn’t draw it. This archer is powerful!

And Marsha, with a proud smile, raised her chin and boldly declared, "Watch—I’ll shoot the left eye of the third bird in the middle!"

Such poise was truly admirable!

Shaya was just beginning to respect her when the bowstring twanged, and the arrow arced beautifully through the air…

Swish!

Her aim was true enough, but to Shaya’s eyes, something seemed off.

A flash of realization—he understood. The aim was accurate, but the force was lacking. The arrow flew, but it was feeble!

Such power suffices for sparrows or game fowl, but the birds before them were wild geese, fierce denizens of the Wildfire Plains, nearly as formidable as hawks.

Sure enough, the arrow flew toward the middle goose, which gave a disdainful call, twisted in midair, pecked the arrow aside, and shrieked mockingly at Marsha.

The goddess archer’s face turned purple with embarrassment. Trying to compose herself, she muttered, "What a beast! I spared your life, and you mock me…" She drew another arrow and let it fly.

Whoosh!

This time, the goose dodged easily.

Marsha grew desperate! Flushed with anger, she grabbed her remaining eight arrows and, without care, fired them all in a single volley!

From his vantage point twenty paces away, Shaya was eager to witness the goddess archer’s skill. But to his shock, as arrows flew wildly, one veered straight into the thicket where he hid, nearly grazing his nose!

He was enjoying the show—never expecting to be ambushed like this! Caught unawares, he couldn’t imagine the "goddess archer" would shoot so wildly.

As the arrow passed his nose, Shaya broke into a cold sweat! Even the bloodthirsty direwolf had failed to kill him, but this woman’s wild arrow nearly took his life?

Shaya was chilled. Damn it, with aim like that, she has the nerve to call herself the Night Goddess?

Hell, missing a bird by seven or eight meters—if she’s the Night Goddess, then I’m the War God Achilles!

…

Marsha was left panting, her face flushed—whether from exertion or humiliation, it was hard to tell.

Her companions stared in a daze. Finally, the blond swordsman Gree cleared his throat, walked over, and patted her shoulder tenderly, comforting her, "It’s all right, Marsha. You… uh, you’re just tired from the journey, that’s all. Anyone can miss."

Marsha hung her head in frustration. "I don’t know what happened. I’m usually so accurate with sparrows…"

Gree glared at the giant. "Nigor, this was all your idea!"

Nigor gave an awkward laugh. It seemed Gree was the leader among them, and he dared not argue. Looking for a change of subject, he turned to the mage. "Bidaldo, isn’t this close to our destination? That shady dealer on Black Street said the lion beast was active nearby, didn’t he?"

The mage grinned, said nothing, and pulled out a map on parchment, along with a compass. Studying the terrain, he pointed east with confidence, "Yes, it’s that way."

In the tree, Shaya sighed. Fools, it’s west—you head east, and tonight you’ll be lucky to meet the charming faces of goblins.

He released his hand from the poor wretch’s mouth, stretched his arms, patted the poor fellow’s face, and whispered, "Hey, we’re not leaving yet. We’ve got work to do."

"Uh? What work?" the poor guy asked, blushing.

"Down there… four fat sheep," Shaya mused, stroking his chin. "Seems fate decrees I, Shaya, must play the bandit today."

He sat the poor fellow securely on the branch. "Sit tight, don’t fall."

Then, he leapt from the tree.

The four experts below were deep in discussion when suddenly a figure dropped from the sky, landing before them. Startled, they cried out.

"Who goes there!"

Gree immediately drew his sword, its hilt inlaid with rubies, its blade keen, and even the guard was silver.

"Haha!" Shaya laughed heartily, tossing his wild black hair and brandishing his rusty axe. He drew a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and bellowed,

"This mountain… uh, I didn’t carve this mountain! This tree… hmm, damn it, I didn’t plant this tree either! If you want to pass, leave a toll!"

He forced a fierce expression. "If you even think of refusing… heh, I’ll kill you without a second thought!"

Shaya strained to keep a straight face—finally done! He’d only ever heard these lines from bards and had spent ages memorizing them. Hopefully, he got them right.

The four masters looked at the sudden bandit with strange expressions:

Rags that could pass for a beggar clan elder’s robe, a rusty axe… and was that a bandage? Most ridiculous of all, the bandage on his chest was tied in a pretty little bow…

(P.S. Yesterday I updated a chapter of "Withered Chrysanthemums," and, as karma would have it, got overtaken on the recommendation board… I refuse to accept that! If someone messes with my chrysanthemum, I’ll pay them back in kind! The grudge of the chrysanthemum can only be repaid in kind~~~ So, I say to all of you—give me your votes! All your recommendation votes!)