Chapter Fifty-Two: Banners of New Lords Fly Above the City Walls

Before leaving, the wretch suddenly realized that once he was gone, leaving Dodoros behind with this bumpkin, the lecherous magician would most likely reveal his secret. Thus, the wretch insisted on taking Dodoros with him—Dodoros was overjoyed! After all, following this beautiful highness was a hundred times better than staying with the petty thief who was prone to beating and scolding him.

In the end, the greedy bumpkin sold the magician servant to the wretch for the paltry price of a single gold coin. Setting aside the matter of servitude, this was probably the lowest value for a magician in the entire continent’s history.

Unintentionally making history, Shaya didn’t think much of it. Because his baggage was so enormous, Chip, before departing, left all the horses belonging to the Dark Night Royal Forest Knights to Shaya. After bidding farewell to the wretch and Chip’s cavalry, he took his spoils and set out on the road home.

※※※

“By the way, Uncle Chip, how did you find us?”

Seated on horseback, Adeline asked curiously.

Chip’s expression was somewhat amused. “Well, a couple of days ago, we met a goblin. That goblin actually spoke a bit of the human tongue and claimed to be some kind of goblin noble. I described your appearance, and it said it had seen you and that you were with someone else in the northern mountains. It told us to follow the river north, and sure enough, we found you.”

“A goblin?” Adeline was surprised. “What happened to it? What did you do with it?”

“It’s hard to find someone who knows anything, so I ordered it bound and brought along. Just now, after we found you, I told my men to throw it back into the wild.”

※※※

Shaya rode his horse, humming a little tune, occasionally turning to look behind him at the long line of over twenty horses. These were well-trained warhorses, tied together with ropes so they wouldn’t scatter. Leading his horse team, Shaya watched the various large bundles strapped to each horse’s back and felt a secret delight.

Just think: when he first stepped into Wildfire Plains, he had nothing but the clothes on his back. Now, he carried two hundred gold coins in his pouch, wore dragon scale armor, wielded a legendary weapon (the fire fork), and had more than twenty pack animals loaded with half a dragon’s worth of loot heading home…

If every adventure yielded such bounty, Lord Shaya could retire after two or three such exploits…

The only flaw was that, on his way in, he was surrounded by companions—at one point, over a dozen goblins, plus the wretch, Ada, Dodoros, and Oakes, all colorful characters to banter and chat with. Now, walking alone across the wilds, he found it rather dull…

As he mused, a distant wolf’s howl suddenly echoed ahead, followed by faint, desperate screams. Shaya’s heart stirred; those cries sounded familiar.

He urged his horse forward, and soon saw a small figure sprinting across the plain—a goblin, green-skinned and ugly. Judging by its attire—damn! Wasn’t that the runaway “Princess” Oakes?

Princess Oakes was panting hard, chased by several wolves whose eyes gleamed with hunger. Seeing Oakes, Shaya’s teeth ached with annoyance, remembering the goblin’s betrayal. But upon reflection, goblin loyalty was always dubious. Seeing Princess Oakes so pitifully hounded by wolves, he couldn’t help but smile.

Oakes was nearly out of breath, with a chunk bitten from his rear, blood streaming and shrieks of pain. Spotting a horse team in the distance, he looked closely and saw Lord Shaya at the front. As if seeing his savior, he rushed over, waving desperately.

“Master! Oakes! Oakes! Master! Butt, ski! Master, help!”

Shaya vaulted forward and kicked one of the wolves fixated on Oakes’s backside, sending it flying. With his monstrous strength, the wolf’s skull was smashed. The remaining two, seeing Shaya’s ferocity, yelped and fled, tails between their legs.

Shaya stood before Oakes, stroking his chin with a cold smile. Oakes sighed in relief, but seeing Shaya’s gaze, remembered his earlier escape and turned pale.

“Well, my Soso, this is the second time you’ve landed in my hands,” Shaya said, lightly kicking Oakes over and pointing to the dead wolf in the distance. “What are you waiting for? Haul back our dinner.”

The sly goblin was overjoyed, realizing that such treatment meant forgiveness. Still, he put on a fearful face, limped over to carry the dead wolf, and joined Shaya’s horse team.

※※※※

Shaya’s “home” was actually a mountain about seven or eight miles outside Wildfire Town. Because it was so close to town, there were hardly any magical beasts left; whatever once existed had long been hunted by the demon hunters nearby. In recent years, even wolves were rarely seen in these mountains.

When Shaya returned, the two battered houses still stood firm, and the doors he had closed when leaving hadn’t been opened since—indeed, no thief would bother with such a godforsaken place even if the doors were wide open.

Leading his massive train of spoils home, Shaya felt a certain desolation. He dismounted, ran breathlessly to the rear hill, and found the solitary grave of the old man. The grave was intact, though the words he had carved on the wooden marker were now blurred by wind and rain—the wood inevitably decayed over time.

Shaya sighed, touching the gravestone. “In a few days, I’ll find some good stone and make you a proper tombstone.”

He gazed at his own handiwork, the inscription “Grave of the Old Man,” and stared for a while, muttering softly: “Hey, old man, who were you, really…”

※※※

Settling in at home, Shaya’s first task was to find a small valley behind the mountain, cut down a few trees to block off both ends, making a natural stable, and drive the twenty-odd warhorses inside. The valley had grass and trees, and he brought Oakes over: “You’re in charge of tending the horses! If one goes missing, I’ll cut off your hand! If four go missing, your hands and feet! If five…"

He cast a wicked glance at the goblin’s crotch, and Oakes instantly felt a chill down there, straightened up, and gave a solemn guarantee.

The goblin had decided not to run anymore; returning to the Red Wilds would only make him a wandering goblin, constantly at risk of being killed or starving. Staying here, following this powerful master, meant security and a full belly… as long as he behaved and avoided getting beaten.

Shaya left the goblin to tend the horses behind the mountain, while he returned to the old house and spent half a day searching through all the belongings the old man had used in his lifetime, hoping for clues.

He searched thoroughly, but there weren’t many things in the shabby house; after a day, he found nothing. The old man’s yellowed books had long been thumbed to tatters; much of their content was memorized. If there were any valuable clues, he would have found them years ago.

As for the old man’s relics—there were none. He died with only a thin blanket and a set of clothes made from hemp two years ago.

He used to think the old man was bragging, but after this adventure, Shaya was more convinced the old man must have been a hidden master!

Otherwise, how could he explain his own pendant, the fire fork, and the legendary killer’s weapon?

If the old man really was a martial master, why hadn’t he properly trained Shaya? He was his only adopted son. To take all his skills to the grave without passing them on—what a waste!

As for claiming to be a general… Shaya no longer doubted it.

He had already suspected the content of those books.

After rummaging through the pile, Shaya found nothing and sighed, clutching his head.

The next day, Shaya got busy. He stripped off all the dragon scales from his spoils, dug a cellar under the house, and tossed them all inside. The dragon skin he had cut into several large pieces, rubbed with saltpeter, and hung outside to dry. The dragon bones, a few hard pieces said to be top-quality magical materials, were thrown into the cellar. He spent a while playing with a sharp dragon fang.

The fang was huge and hard, the root nearly as thick as Shaya’s waist, and the tooth had serrated edges. Shaya tried using a sword he’d picked up from the Dark Night Royal Forest Knights, and found the fang tougher than steel. It could be made into a weapon, but Ada had said only dwarves had that kind of skill.

Shaya sighed and tossed it into the cellar as well.

It took several days for Shaya to sort and process all his spoils, and in the end, he found the only useful items were the dragon skins. After much thought, he realized he’d have to head to Wildfire Town to find a tailor.

But Shaya knew all too well what kind of people lived in Wildfire Town; even a tavern waiter might be a first-class imperial fugitive! Any random tailor could be a retired master thief.

He wasn’t about to trust his dragon skin to anyone for a robe.

After much consideration, Shaya sighed, “A house really needs a woman.”

Suddenly struck by this sentiment, Shaya remembered something. Speaking of women… he realized he was now a man of means, with several hundred gold coins—certainly a minor wealthy man.

Wildfire Town had no honest folk! There was a black street where anything could be bought!

And… Wildfire Town also had a powder street—a paradise for men, so they said. When he was poor, he could only imagine; now…

With money in his pouch, a man gained confidence.

And… Aunt Sophia’s niece…

The saying that “men turn bad when they get rich” was truly a profound truth!

Shaya was tempted! For the moment, all thoughts of dragon skin robes were forgotten. He slapped his head, grabbed a handful of gold coins, tucked them into his pouch, slipped the fire fork into his belt, locked the house, and headed down the mountain toward Wildfire Town.

With money in his pocket, the bumpkin felt a surge of confidence, and his steps were light and brisk, his spirits soaring.

※※※

Shaya wasn’t truly transformed; it was just that any man, going from poverty to sudden wealth—especially if he happened to be a young virgin—would surely have the same thoughts as Shaya.

Feeling excited, Shaya rushed to Wildfire Town, but from afar, he saw the city gates, usually wide open, now half-shut. The mercenary guards at the entrance had disappeared, replaced by a squad of infantry with swords and shields. Judging by their leather armor, they were clearly not some ragtag mercenary band.

Soon, he saw the flags hanging from the city walls.

On those flags was a badge: two crossed longswords entwined with fleur-de-lis, forming a diagonal cross, and atop the cross stood a majestic eagle.

Shaya hadn’t seen much of the world, but he recognized it at a glance—the eagle standard of the Byzantine Empire’s regular army!

“Did Wildfire Town change hands again during the few days I was away?” Shaya wondered.