The chest landed on the ground with a loud thud. Dink ignored Maximilian extinguishing the flames on his clothes. Instead, he circled the chest, bumping Maximilian off balance. He righted himself with an indignant expression. Dink placed his foot against the chest, giving it a hard shove. There was no movement, the chest was far too heavy for him to shift. He noticed something protruding from the lock. Crouching down to investigate, he discovered a golden key attached to a delicate chain.

The bandits must have taken this from Maximilian’s neck to get inside the chest. I can smell the reek of Insipid radiating from it.

“Hey, get away from there!” Maximilian exclaimed, effortlessly hauling Dink back and tossing him to the side.

Dink landed with a crash. Riva and Murkuk instantly become alert, aiming their weapons at the merchant. Axion hefted his axe in preparation, his body was coiled to spring. Dink raised a hand, gesturing for them to hold. Maximilian flinched after realising what he had done. He froze in place as he watched Dink climb to his feet while dusting himself off, leaning down to pick up his bastard sword beside him.

“I can see why your escort abandoned you, It’s not wise to antagonise your benefactors. Let me guess, you thought all it would take to deal with any bandits is Insipid. Then when faced with reality, fear kicked in, making you hesitate. By then it was already too late, you were already captured. You’ve never killed anyone before, am I right?” Dink asked, walking toward him.

“I…” Maximilian started to speak.

The moment he opened his mouth, Dink moved. He crossed the distance between them in an instant, using the chest as a springboard to launch a knee flying into his face. Maximilian’s nose shattered under the impact, sprawling to the ground. Dink stood over him, pressing the blade against his throat. He casually kicked the merchant’s hands out wide to the sides.

“Keep your hands where I can see them. If you so much as twitch, my sword will turn you into a pin cushion. It doesn’t matter if you believe you’re faster than me because you have the capabilities of an Attuned right now. I’ll know the moment the thought crosses your mind. Back down!” Dink warned. He pressed the sword against Maximilian’s throat until milky-red blood leaked from beneath the blade. “Huh, not entirely an addict. Yet. Why would someone with no fight experience use Insipid? Does it make you feel powerful? Without the skill, you’re still easy prey for someone like me.”

Dink drew his attention by lightly tapping his blade against the underside of his jaw. Dink patiently waited until he saw the signs of fear enter the man’s eyes. He stepped away while removing his blade. Maximilian cautiously sat upright, clamping his hand over the blood seeping from his neck. He helplessly glared at Dink but didn’t dare to act.

“A bit rough with him, Dink old-boy. I think the man soiled himself. You could have gone a bit easier on the poor man. He has just been through a traumatic experience, after all,” Axion teased.

“Hehehe, he did. Can smell it,” Murkuk happily replied.

After answering, he bent over in laughter clutching his belly. He lowered his staff while resting a hand on Axion’s axe haft, using it as support. He continued to laugh until tears streamed down his face. Maximilian’s face turned pale from embarrassment, glaring at the Goblin with resentment. Dink shook his head in bemusement after feeling Murkuk’s intense delight through their bond.

“I had to make a point. Insipid is absolute filth, with no honour found in using it. It doesn’t belong anywhere in Nyre. A coward relies on external strength without the hard work that comes with it. It only turns you into vermin. I’ve killed more than my fair share of addicts in my time,” Dink replied, his expression turning hard.

Maximilian flinched at his words, hurriedly climbing to his feet and retreating. He stopped after feeling the heat of the burning wagon at his back. Dink gave him a final glance before returning to the front of the chest. He put down his sword while turning the key before flipping open the lid. He struggled to move the heavy wood with his Goblin physique. He managed to get both arms braced underneath to give it a final push. It crashed open with a heavy thud.

Inside was filled with numerous black satan sacks. He grabbed one and opened the drawstring. Dink glanced sideways, Maximilian was unblinkingly staring at the pouch in his hands. Dink noticed that he was subconsciously licking his lips. Suddenly the merchant leapt forward, reaching toward the pouch Dink held.

Dink was already prepared for the action, he flicked his sword into his hand. He smoothly caught the hilt before slamming the flat of the blade into Maximilian’s already broken nose. The merchant stumbled backward and clutched his face. He started walking in a circle, rocking and whimpering in pain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is outrageous. No one has ever dared to treat me like this. Do you have any idea who my master is?” Maximilian shouted, his hands muffling his words. He looked up to angrily glare at Dink.

“Don’t know, Don’t care. Anyone dealing in Insipid is scum,” Dink carelessly replied. He motioned for Axion to restrain him.

Axion complied, he put down his axe while gripping both of the aggrieved addict’s arms, pinning them at his sides. A sound from the woods caused Dink’s ears to twitch. He immediately became when he felt tingling on the nape of his neck.

He relaxed after discovering it was only Lady Estra and Tahlea. They entered the clearing on the cart being pulled by the old mule. Tahlea was holding the reins while Estra maintained a spell. Glowing mist supported the mule’s hooves and the cart’s wheels suspended half a foot from the ground, allowing it to navigate the rough terrain.

Upon arrival, Estra gestured to dismiss her spell. The mule hee-hawed in relief when it made contact with the dirt after gently being lowered down.

“Good girl, Betsy,” Estra said, leaning over to pet the mule’s coat.

“Betsy?” Dink asked.

“What, do you have a problem? She needed a name and Betsy is a good one for a mule,” Estra cheerfully replied.

He silently lowered his weapon to the side while hefting the pouch in his hand. Without warning, he tossed it into the burning wagon behind him. Estra and Tahlea watched him with confusion.