Red and Viscount Cochin walked over to Wolf’s and Archibald’s wagon. Red felt a chill creep down his spine as he drew near.

After the battle with the Northshield troops had ended, Red couldn’t help feeling both awed and terrified by Wolf’s display. Only then did he realize that the boy was holding back during the savage attack on that band of wannabe brigands back in Northshield.

The sight of a child running and massacring peasants disturbed Red and the others greatly. But the sight of that same boy tearing through the ranks of professional soldiers left him much more terrified. It was an eye-opener for Red and his men.

Sword-Sages rarely got involved in the wars of regular people. They found the secular affairs beneath them. Even if they got caught up in a secular war, they would fight dojo against dojo, against enemies at the same or similar level, and those battles were what decided the war.

But the odds of something like that happening were slim. Sword-Sages fought for the prestige of their dojos or clans, not for the benefit of their Dukes, which they did not really acknowledge. They fought each other for the specialized resources they needed to advance their Order, and they fought to help repel Monster Beast or demon incursions. Regular soldiers did not often see such events, which made Wolf’s display a couple of days prior extremely shocking and awe-inspiring.

As the two representatives of the Johns and Josh merchant group approached, Wolf and Archibald waited quietly in their wagon.

When the caravan lurched to a stop, Archibald noted that Red would soon be paying them a visit.

Wolf nodded and simply waited patiently with his father. The boy glanced around, and noticed the way the guards were looking towards his wagon.

“Dad, why are all of them so afraid of me? I won’t harm them,” Wolf said.

Archibald was silent for a moment, trying to come up with a constructive, inoffensive answer.

“There’s more than one reason,” Archibald finally said. “For one, they’re in awe of your strength and talent. There’s also the fact that you don’t hesitate even a little bit when taking lives. To be honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you about that for a while now. Do you really feel nothing when you kill people?”

“Well, I learned to use my sword properly, so there’s hardly any resistance,” Wolf started with a sly smile, but when his father frowned, he answered more seriously. “Why should I feel anything? You told me to kill everyone who comes at us with killing intent. Otherwise, those I care for might be the ones killed. So what did I do wrong?”

Archibald wanted to say something, but paused when he saw that Wolf wasn’t done talking.

“Can you tell me what I did wrong?” Wolf asked again. “I just did as you taught me. Besides, it's not like dying is such a big deal. You live, you die, you’re born again and the cycle continues until the end of time.”

Wolf’s frankness left his father stumped yet again.

Archibald really hated it when his boy did everything exactly the way he had told him. Doubly so because, in the end, Archibald would have to ask his boy why he did the things the way he did. When hearing the answer he felt like he’d slapped himself.

But this view on life… Well, it is true that I was the one who told him about the cycle of life and death, Archibald thought.

“Son, you know, when I talked to you about religion and mentioned the cycle of samsara… Those are just folk stories, common beliefs. Nobody ever proved that reincarnation really exists,” Archibald said tentatively.

“That’s fine. Those stories are true,” Wolf said. “Take for example vowing on Earthmother you spoke about. For the vast majority of people, it’s just a fairytale. But once a person is strong enough, they can get a god’s attention by swearing on their name. You told me that you’ve made such oaths before, and that the goddess acknowledged you.”

Archibald opened and closed his mouth a couple of times.

There’s no way to prove him wrong, he thought. In Wolf’s mind, there’s no need to mourn the dead because they will come back to life again. If you consider it that way, killing a person is no different from making a child go to bed without dinner when they’ve done something bad. Maybe that’s why paladins don’t hesitate even for a moment when slaying evil?

Thankfully, Red and Viscount Cochin came to Archibald’s aid at that moment.

“Sir Malcom, this is our caravan master. He would like to have a word with you, if you don’t mind,” Red said, making a simple introduction.

“Greetings, Sir Malcom,” said the caravan master. “My name is Reynard Cochin, a Viscount from Silverhound duchy. I apologize for being unable to come out and meet you earlier. Red has told me much about your son’s exploits ever since the two of you joined our caravan. You have my sincere gratitude.” He spoke without much sincerity, then paused a moment before continuing. “I’m sure you have already seen the state of the bridge guardhouses. A man of your experience should probably know what that means…”

Archibald nodded, but didn’t say a word.

After waiting in vain for another few moments, Viscount Cochin continued, while inwardly grumbling with displeasure, “I have come to ask for your aid in case of a bandit attack. We are willing to pay—”

“There’s no need for you to pay us anything. My son’s blade can’t be bought with money, nor can my intervention. If we do get attacked, we will fight back. Not because we are greedy for your reward, but because our lives would also be in danger. I have already spoken with Mister Red about this matter.” Archibald refused to fight for money.

As far as the big man was concerned it would set a bad precedent in Wolf’s mind. Given the way his boy was, he might become a sword for hire if he saw Archibald taking money to protect the caravan. Worse still, the boy would later claim that it was Archibald himself who had taught him how to extort money from people. And Wolf becoming an adventurer or a sellsword at this point would be far too disappointing.

“Whatever your motive, I won’t forget this grace,” Viscount Cochin said. He gave a nod of appreciation before turning towards Red, and gave the guard a See? That’s how it’s done look. “Since everyone’s ready, let's move.”

The Viscount climbed aboard the frontmost wagon, after which Red signaled everyone to move forward.

As the caravan approached the bridge, Archibald felt his gut churn.

“Son, keep your eyes wide open. I have a bad feeling about this. Have you prepared the spells as I instructed you?” Archibald murmured under his breath. If that Cochin fellow was the kind of aristocrat Archibald thought he was, his ears should be sharp.

Wolf nodded. Other than a couple of spells he’d prepared according to his own preferences, the rest of them were the ones Archibald had insisted on. They mostly focused either on self-preservation or on taking out a large number of relatively weaker opponents.

The caravan slowly crossed the bridge. With each step, the drivers and guards grew more and more tense. Everyone kept darting their eyes around, and they often nervously turned this way and that to see when the enemy was going to attack. Seconds dragged on like hours, and crossing that single kilometer with a caravan of wagons took a long while.

Despite the not too warm autumn air, the guards were dripping with sweat. Everyone was gripping their weapons, ready to draw them at the drop of a hat.

Time passed, and the caravan crawled its way onward, until it crossed a third of the bridge, then half, three quarters… Finally, the first wagon crossed the bridge without anything happening, followed by the second one, then the third.

When the last wagon crossed the bridge, someone started laughing like an idiot. Everyone soon joined that idiot. The guards were so drenched with sweat they looked like they’d swum across the river while ignoring the bridge.

“Oh man, I thought I was going to die back there!” Red said loudly as he joined in on the laughter.

Finally, everyone could relax. The boss had said they were safe. The caravan guards started wiping the sweat off their brows as the wagon train kept moving forward.

Only Archibald, Wolf, and Viscount Cochin remained tense. The three of them had a feeling they were being watched, and by a lot of people. Unfortunately, they couldn’t pinpoint the feeling. The lush surroundings could have hidden herds of Monster Beasts, let alone some manling raiders.

“Oh, man… I really feel like an idiot now. I can’t believe I was so worried,” the driver of the first wagon said to Red while laughing, happy to be alive.

The man subconsciously picked up the pace, wanting to get out of the clearing as fast as possible. Soon, the lead wagon was less than two hundred meters from the forest.

*Twang! Twang! Twang!*

Loud twangs and then whistling sounds came from the front.

Viscount Cochin was the first to see the hail of arrows coming their way. “Everyone get down! Hide under the wagons!” he shouted. The old man moved with unexpected agility, especially considering his age.

By the time everyone else had reacted, he was already almost under the wagon. Archibald and Wolf were the only ones that moved as fast as him. Red followed closely behind his master, but that was just his bodyguard’s reflex. As for the driver, the man was too slow.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

By the time the man jumped to the ground, two dozen arrows had already turned him into a human pincushion.

The sound of arrows thumping against wood, the tearing of fabric, the screams of wounded men and the neighing of dying horses filled the air.

In an instant, the cheerful caravan turned into a chaotic mess. The volley had concentrated only on the first three wagons, but a stray arrow had killed one of the horses drawing the fourth wagon. The other horse from the team panicked, and after madly jerking and pulling to run away, overturned the wagon. The driver cursed and ran for cover under the third wagon in front of him.

“Sir, we need something to protect us from arrows!” Red shouted, only to realize that the Sir he’d called for was squatting right next to him.

“Two hundred,” Viscount Cochin whispered before he started muttering the chant of a spell.

“Two hundred archers from the front! Expect just as many well-trained melee fighters! Everyone, stay sharp!” Red shouted commands for his fellow guards.

While he yelled out orders, another volley of arrows rained on the caravan.

*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*

Before they could even reach the caravan, half the arrows were scattered every which way.

*Da! Da! Da!*

Fifty or so arrows pelted the hardwood wagons. However, this time, everyone within range was already hiding under sturdy cover.

Wolf looked out from under his wagon and saw a concave wall of concentrated hurricane-force wind shielding the caravan. Even with his perception mostly dormant, the wall was obvious. But for regular folk, their only hint of the magical barrier came from the bits of dust, leaves, and splinters flying erratically through the air. The archers hiding in the forest had no way of seeing it.

“Everyone! Gather in front of the fourth wagon! I’ll move the wall so it can protect us from the arrows and other projectiles!” Viscount Cochin shouted as he and Red made their way towards the fourth wagon.

Wolf and Archibald followed them when another volley of arrows came flying. This time, the Hurricane Wall deflected all of the incoming arrows. Most of the missiles ended up flying back the way they came, eliciting shouts and screams of pain from the forest.

Thousand-man-commander Andersen frowned when he saw this development, but after a moment, he smiled.

“The VIP is a Mage! That means triple bounty on his head! Fifth, sixth and seventh companies, move to engage! Companies eight and nine, move into position. Avoid engagement for now, but be ready to flank them if necessary. Companies three and four, move into range but don’t shoot until you test out that magical barrier!

“All sword and spear companies, split into basic three-two five-man squads and scatter as much as possible! Even though they have a Mage, he’s just one man with a limited number of spells. Squads one and two, have your best sharp-shooters try and find an opening to take out the Mage!”

As the Thousand-man-commander shouted his orders, Wolf looked at his father with a confused expression.

“Dad, do they think we’re deaf or disabled? We can hear their orders and act accordingly,” Wolf said.

As if to emphasize his point, the commander kept shouting his orders without concern that his enemies could hear everything.

“Son, this is more or less how you act all the time. That man believes he's in a situation in which he cannot lose. Northshield companies number one hundred men each. Based on his shouts, they have at least nine hundred men at their disposal. If there’s a whole regiment there, then we're facing a thousand troops,” Archibald said with an absolute calm, and resoluteness that surprised Wolf for a moment. Archibald was acting in stark contrast with the terrified and despairing men all around them.

The big man’s mind raced. This entire situation was ridiculous. The way things were, he and, more importantly, his son would die in a meaningless border skirmish. Worse still, this was an internal conflict of the human race. The very thought filled him with rage. For decades, he’d been one of the protectors of humanity, and this was what he got in return?!

Wolf, however, remained unaware of his father’s deep thoughts. Hearing that not-so-subtle chiding and the calm way his father spoke, the boy blushed, but was still not worried one bit. He was still a child, and unaware that he was in a certain death scenario.

Instead, Wolf contemplated his father’s words, and his own actions. Did he really disregard his enemies to such an extent? He was just acting freely, wasn’t he?

While Wolf questioned himself, the enemy commander had finished shouting, and Northshield soldiers began moving according to their orders.

When Red saw the enemy numbers, he went pale. He suddenly turned towards his boss, hoping against hope… But the man wore an equally grim face. It was obvious they were done for.

“Sir! It was an honor serving you!” the guard captain said gravely.

“What kind of rubbish mentality is that, soldier?” Archibald yelled at the man, trying to shake him up. “It’s not over yet! If you buy me five minutes, I can take care of all of these soldiers.”

Red looked at Archibald as if he had gone insane. Surprisingly, the big man remained absolutely calm, to the point of it being unnerving.

“Um, Sir Malcolm, what happens in five minutes?” Red asked.

Archibald grinned with a hint of madness in his eyes, making him look like a devil incarnate as he said, “In five minutes, all those bastards will meet the Judges.”

Archibald’s lessons:

People will try to spy on you, and the more important you are the more often it will happen. You can deal with your enemies scrying on you in several ways. The most blunt way of doing it is using an anti-magic field. If magic doesn’t work scrying won’t either.

Then we have spells that specifically shield from prying eyes, such as Privacy and Non-detection. You could also…