Wolf and South enjoyed a private meal in the once again dirty alley.

Wolf was bummed out because Anna wasn’t there, South was always a bum, but it was apparent he missed Matilda’s presence. Whenever the Young Lady came over for a visit, both his alley and South himself went through radical changes.

After Wolf and South wrapped up their meal, the youth left for his mission. He’d once more chosen one of the most dangerous and most profitable missions, but those were the kinds of missions he was interested in. Exterminating dangerous groups which threatened the common folk was already ingrained in Wolf.

Wolf had long since departed by the time the exam results were out. Even though he didn’t really care about it, he had perfect scores on all of his tests. Headmaster’s office even awarded him with forty Student Credits for excellence.

As for the rest of Wolf’s class, Matilda had the second best score. Wayde was third, Anna fourth and Barbara fifth.

Without realizing it, Wolf’s presence and help were causing unexpected changes.

***

Two days after the exam results came out, in the most expensive establishment in Silver City, known as ‘Anything Goes’, nine men gathered. This was an extremely imposing lineup which even the Duke would have to give face to, at least publicly. The group consisted of two Marquesses and seven Counts under the other Marquesses.

“His academic results are excellent,” a fat blonde with thin hair said. “It’s almost certain he’s going to graduate, which would make him a Viscount by default. If he becomes a True-Namer then he would become a Count easily. And, if he excavates even half his potential, he’ll become a Marquess. Meaning, no matter what, at least one of us will lose his holds.”

“We can’t have that happen,” a shriveled up old man, who looked like an imp, said coldly. “Years ago, a beggar becoming a noble was shocking, but losing your title wasn’t life-threatening. In times like these taking our power means endangering our families. We have to take care of him before he becomes too powerful.”

“Agreed,” more than half the men gathered said loudly, while nobody said anything against the motion.

With those words, the group of conspirators began plotting their next steps. Even those who hadn’t been actively paying attention to Wolf’s activities knew a couple of things about him, let alone these nine, whose wealth was on the line.

This wasn’t their first time doing something like this, and there was no need to be original either. The only change was in their approach. Before, when a troublesome student appeared, they would blackmail them into taking an impossible mission. Wolf, however, had no weakness they could find and nobody he cared about.

Luckily, he seemed to care about Academic Credits and exterminating bandits. With the right combination of the two, the youth was bound to walk into a deathtrap on his own accord.

After several rounds of persuasion, Marquess Hiragino agreed to let the rest put bandit bounties on Silence and Darkness, two famous assassins he had on his payroll.

The names of this couple were famous throughout Silver City, and the odds of anyone other than Wolf taking the mission were practically zero.

To make certain Wolf would take the bait, the council of nine agreed to make it a ten-day mission worth two hundred student credits. The sum made their hearts bleed even after they spread it across the nine of them. Doubly so because they had to bribe the Mage Academy official in charge of estimating the mission difficulty.

Taking care of Silence and Darkness was a mission for a Mage of at least Sixth Order, and having it labeled with merely four stars would bleed their pockets.

As expert conspirators, once they’d settled the how, other things fell into place naturally. They wrote the bounty, paid their shares for the reward and agreed to post the mission as soon as Wolf returned to Silver City.

The nine dispersed, certain they had doomed Wolf to a certain death. The only one who grumbled was Marquess Hiragino, who thought they should just send Silence and Darkness after the boy now. However, the group outvoted the fat blonde, and he had to respect the majority decision.

Outright assassinating a Mage Academy student could cause all sorts of trouble, if the deed was somehow linked with them.

***

Wolf was oblivious of the fact that he’d become a target of plots. He traveled worry-free, and thanks to Endurance and Greater Fleet of Foot, he’d reached the town of New Yew in just thirty-five days, while making sure to take enough breaks to rest and eat cooked meals.

The young man changed out from his traveling garbs and put on Mage Academy robes. Only then did he approach the town. He immediately noticed that this place seemed less miserable than most other settlements he’d seen. Entertaining that thought, Wolf saw another Glenwood. And just like in Glenwood, the head of the militia came over to greet him and explain what was going on.

He’d confirmed the details from Wolf’s bounty. His target was a group of twelve men powerful enough to raid caravans on their own. All of them wore dreadlocks, had bushy beards and painted their faces white, which had earned their gang the name Raging Ghosts.

However, the militiaman’s account didn’t exactly match up with the crimes listed in the bounty. The mission described Raging Ghosts as bloodthirsty madmen, while the militia captain painted them in a considerably better light.

“You’re here to help us with that menace?” the New Yew’s mayor asked loudly as he approached Wolf.

The boy before him looked like he wasn’t even ten years old, but he wore a Mage Academy uniform. However, that uniform didn’t inspire much confidence when a child wore it.

“Ahem,” mayor Gordon cleared his throat and continued talking, pointedly ignoring Wolf’s underwhelming outward appearance.

“Those bandits are insufferable,” the elderly man exclaimed. “Count Baskerville has already sent several missives to my Lord, questioning whether my township has anything to do with the taxmen disappearing and his caravans being raided. If this isn’t handled properly, we might all be put to the sword for conspiracy and for aiding the bandits!”

The mayor was very loud, much louder than necessary. Wolf was under an impression the man was using the chance to publicly warn the townsfolk not to do anything stupid.

Wolf saw that there was something fishy going on, but still listened as the mayor listed the heinous deeds of the Raging Ghosts.

The vile deeds the mayor described weren’t all that different from what the militia captain had described. But the way he presented them was supposed to paint them as a sin in the eyes of a nobleman, which he expected Wolf was.

Robbing taxmen first and foremost, killing those who resisted, while leaving the rest, it kind of didn’t seem all that bad considering everything Wolf had seen on his way over from Silver City, or in the city itself for that matter.

Other than taxmen, the gang had killed anyone coming after them and robbed the caravans belonging to the “Baskerville & Co.” merchant group. In Baskerville County, flying the flag of this merchant group meant only the most brazen and desperate bandits would attack you. Everywhere, save for the yew forests surrounding the town of New Yew.

Hearing the story from a third source, with the mayor stressing the importance of law, social order and taxes, Wolf came up with a theory. These people could be freedom fighters or something like that. Doubly so since the militia captain seemed hesitant to describe the group in a bad light.

Wolf concocted a preposterous story about virtuous bandits who stole from the rich and gave to the needy. If those angry ghosts are really like that, maybe they could work for me. Then all those heads I collected along the way wouldn’t have been for nothing.

If he’d known more, Wolf might not have needed all those heads, but the bounty only mentioned bushy beards, messy hair and whitewashed faces. So, Wolf collected heads with long hair and bushy beards, stabbing those people through their chests, unlike his usual method of destroying the brain or severing the head to reduce suffering.

Wolf spent an evening in the tavern to eat and gather information. Unlike at Mage Academy, the benches here were rickety and creaked under Wolf’s weight. When he climbed to his room, the stairs squeaked under his inordinary weight.

Wolf cursed inwardly. He rarely had such problems. Instead of sleeping on a bed, he sat and meditated. Mage Academy furniture was top quality, made to withstand even the most obese of humans. As for heading out, when he knew he’d visit unknown places, Wolf used a Third Order spell Featherweight to halve his mass for a couple of hours.

But he hadn’t expected this inn was so run down, and he hadn’t prepared the spell. Luckily, nobody seemed to have noticed the incriminating creaking, which sounded as loud as thunder in Wolf’s ears.

The youth tried to gather information, but surprisingly nobody said anything more detailed than what was going around as rumors. In fact, the mayor had provided the most detailed account.

Since there was no solid information, Wolf used Read Stars, a Fourth Order divination spell, to find the general direction of Raging Ghosts’ camp.

He left at dawn, and after wandering for a couple of hours, Wolf reached his goal. Before him were half a dozen green tents carefully hidden in the forest.

In the middle of the camp, five scary looking men with big bushy beards and dreadlocks squatted, eating cold stew. Wolf approached them openly, with no hostility. However, as soon as the men noticed him they jumped, placing their hands on their weapons.

“What are you doing here, boy?” the oldest among them shouted.

For an unfamiliar boy in brand new traveling clothes to accidentally stumble across such a well hidden camp was impossible.

“Hello, I’m sorry to have disturbed your meal. I’m Wolf,” Wolf introduced himself with a nonthreatening smile, sadly glancing at the spilled stew.

He shifted his gaze at the scruffy men, then paused, his face turning awkward. He’d just realized he must have looked like those bandits approaching him with a rope dangling in their hands.

“Um, I would like to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” Wolf finished his clumsy greeting.

“Are you here for the bounty?” the man asked wearily, but didn’t draw his weapon yet.

“That depends on how you look at it,” Wolf said, flashing a friendly smile. “For starters, I really just want to have a conversation with you guys.”

“Boss, is he a noble?” one of the men asked, but before his boss got to open his mouth Wolf spoke.

“It might be hard for you to believe, but I was a beggar this time last year. If you want, I can swear it’s true,” Wolf said, while a completely opposite thought passed through his mind.

I was richer when I was a beggar, if you ask me, he thought. Trying to advance your strength quickly is expensive enough to ruin a noble household.

The so-called boss carefully examined Wolf and thought for a moment.

“You three notch your arrows and take aim at him,” he said. “If he starts chanting, turn him into a porcupine.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Wolf smiled and sat down cross-legged on the grass, apparently without a care in the world.

“What do you want to talk about?” the boss asked, but didn’t sit down.

He was still ready to attack at any moment. A couple of other men exited the tents and moved to surround Wolf, but the youth showed no reaction. His calm disinterest was extremely unnerving for the adults surrounding him. They wanted to believe he was just a child, but a naive child never would’ve made it here.

“I would like to know why you’re raiding only caravans affiliated with the house Baskerville,” Wolf asked relaxedly once the men finished shuffling around.

“That, boy, is a long story,” the old man shook his head with an ugly expression.

“I’m not in a hurry, so if you please,” Wolf smiled and shrugged, indicating he had all the time in the world.

“If that’s the case, I should be the one doing the talking Lazz,” a man in mid thirties said as he stepped forth.

He sat down two steps away from Wolf, his back as straight as an arrow. Wolf looked at the man, then carefully examined the rest of the group. He had a faint feeling of danger from the man, but not much from anyone else.

The youth fully awakened his senses, but only sensed a faint bloody air of warriors, not that of monsters indulging in slaughter. The man didn’t have the air of a Mage, which likely made him an Internal Energy or a Body Refiner.

“Please,” Wolf said with a smile after the split-second he took to confirm the state of things in this camp.

That smile and behavior greatly unnerved Edmund. Unlike Wolf, the Sword-Sage had survived several dozen near death situations. He didn’t need the gimmicks of Mages to tell that Wolf was a lethal threat. Blessedly he wasn’t interested in taking their lives.

At least not yet.