Struggling across the open fields, the group's progress was much slower than anticipated. There was only one pair of boots taken from the mercenary; whoever wore them meant the other two had to walk barefoot.

Even though they were extremely cautious, not long after setting out, Azerion still injured the sole of his foot on something sharp hidden in the grass. The only pair of boots had to be given to him to wear.

Relying on Leon's hunting experience, they caught rabbits, fetched birds, speared fish—eating whatever they could find along the way. They even feasted on a wild wolf that foolishly tried to attack them. But when luck wasn't on their side, they often had to fill their stomachs with wild fruits and plant roots.

Without a map, they could only roughly determine their direction. Often, they became more confused the farther they walked in the wild, leading them off course. It took several days before they finally found a rural path, which made the journey somewhat easier.

This was the first sign of human habitation they had encountered since escaping near the mercenary camp.

Upon learning that Azerion could speak Uria, Leon had wanted to find a village as soon as possible to exchange their silver coins for survival resources. Walking barefoot in the wilderness for a long time was truly unpleasant, and being scantily clad while camping made it difficult to endure the cold wind at night.

Everyone quickened their pace. When they finally saw the scattered huts of a small village at the end of their vision, they felt a bit elated.

However, the three didn't head straight for the village but instead slipped into the nearby woods.

According to their prior plan, Azerion, who could speak Uria, would put on the chainmail, sword, and shield—fully equipped—and go into the village alone with the money to scout the situation. If all went well, Leon and Lohak, who didn't speak the language, wouldn't need to risk unnecessary complications.

With his fair appearance, Azerion could easily pretend to be a knight's squire. After all, he was the son of a noble from the Holy City, and his mannerisms were more than enough to intimidate rural peasants.

Leon and Lohak climbed a small hill on nearby high ground to observe the situation from above.

As their companion's figure gradually vanished behind the village houses, Leon noticed something strange. It was broad daylight, yet from this vantage point, he couldn't see any villagers moving about. This discovery made him uneasy.

While Leon was still trying to spot any locals, Azerion soon came running back out of the village, waving and gesturing for Leon and Lohak to join him.

The two hiding on the hill exchanged puzzled glances but emerged from the woods to meet up with their companion.

"What happened?" Leon asked as they reached the village entrance.

"There's no one alive. The village is a mess, and there are a few corpses. The villagers have long since fled," Azerion replied, handing the sword back to Lohak.

"Was the village attacked by bandits?" Leon finally noticed that the village entrance was indeed full of overlapping hoofprints, and several low wooden fences had been knocked over.

"Not sure, but we shouldn't stay here too long," Azerion said worriedly. "Judging by the state of the villagers' bodies, they've been dead for some days. If any survivors escaped, they might have gone to seek help from the local lord to send troops to eliminate the bandits. While no one is here now, let's quickly see if there's anything useful and leave immediately."

Leon felt a twinge of emotion at the lawlessness of this medieval chaos. Without further discussion, the three immediately entered the village to gather supplies.

The wooden doors of the cottages were all open; some had even been violently smashed down. This made it convenient for the trio to scavenge. They kept a distance and split up to search each thatched house.

Although every cottage had already been looted by the robbers, apparently the bandits didn't take everything. Leon searched several houses in a row and soon found the shoes he'd been longing for by the bedside in one of them.

Even though they were simple, worn-out shoes with straw-woven soles and tattered leather wraps, they were better than continuing to torture his feet.

Putting on the ill-fitting leather and straw shoes, Leon's efficiency in scavenging increased significantly as his steps became lighter.

Working quickly in the already wrecked interiors, rummaging through boxes and cabinets, he didn't find anything of real value but soon came across some dusty, rough linen outerwear and ragged pants.

The frayed edges and coarse, stiff texture were uncomfortable to wear, which was why even the robbers didn't bother with such trash. But having clothes was better than nothing, and at least they could block the wind.

Using a found rag to make a bag, he collected some coarse bread and some grains scattered on the ground, scooping them into a clay bowl. Leon couldn't help but complain inwardly about how thoroughly these bandits had scoured the place. Aside from some leftover food scraps in broken pottery jars, they hadn't left anything useful.

Carrying the meager loot in his rag bag, Leon entered another wooden house. He was immediately hit by an unbearable stench. Following the smell into the inner room, he was startled by the scene before him.

The first thing he saw was a female corpse already showing signs of decay—naked, with a miserable death. Just from the posture of the body, one could imagine the inhuman abuse and atrocities she had suffered before death. What made Leon's anger surge was that the deceased didn't appear to be very old—in other words...

... What a bunch of damn beasts...

Turning away with a heavy heart, Leon suddenly realized there was more than one corpse.

Not far away was a headless male body, also stripped of clothing, kneeling with hands bound behind his back. His body was covered with wounds inflicted by blades.

Judging by the face on the severed head that had rolled to the side, the man was older—possibly the girl's father.

He couldn't imagine the despair and pain the man must have felt being forced to watch his daughter subjected to such vile acts before he died.

Leon couldn't bear to look any longer. He took a few steps back and closed the door.

The human tragedy that had occurred in this house kept triggering the tragic memories of the original owner of this body.

Nothing is more infuriating and painful than personally experiencing a similar situation.

Lohak, who had just finished searching another house, came over. Seeing Leon step out of the wooden house after just a glance inside, he couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong? Is there something in there?"

Leon sighed and shook his head. "No need to search this one. There probably isn't anything valuable left inside."

Puzzled, Lohak stepped forward, opened the door, and glanced inside. His expression became even more grim than Leon's as he retreated. The straightforward youth took a deep breath, trying to calm his turbulent emotions.

Even someone who harbored deep-seated hatred for the Kantadars like him was deeply shaken upon witnessing such a tragedy befall ordinary civilians of an enemy nation.

"Let's go," Leon patted him on the shoulder.

They spent quite some time going door to door, essentially turning this small village upside down. In the end, they did manage to gather a fair amount. First, they collected enough food to last the three of them for a while. Moreover, Leon and Azerion, who had lacked proper clothing, found worn-out straw shoes and linen garments to cover themselves, finally shedding their wild appearance.

Additionally, they unearthed two rusty pitchforks from a corner of a farmhouse. Now, Leon could finally discard his repeatedly sharpened crude wooden spear.

Shouldering their packed bundles, the three didn't linger. Before nightfall, they hastened their pace and resumed their journey.

That night, they cooked a hearty meal of wheat porridge mixed with beans in a large clay bowl, accompanied by coarse bread. But even though they were finally eating normal food after so long, none of them felt any joy.

Anyone with a shred of conscience who witnessed the atrocities in that village would find it hard to come to terms with it in a short time. Moreover, the horrifying scenes kept reminding them of their own tragic experiences.

The night passed without words. At dawn, they continued on their way. With shoes and food supplies, their pace quickened considerably.

By noon, Leon suddenly felt faint tremors in the ground. He was momentarily confused but quickly recalled the techniques his father had taught him, promptly dropping to the ground and pressing his ear against the earth.

It wasn't an illusion. The vibrations caused by many hooves pounding the ground indicated that a sizable group of riders was approaching.

"Hide quickly! A cavalry troop is coming!" Leon hurriedly called to his companions.

Lohak and Azerion didn't doubt him and bolted toward the nearby woods with Leon, sprinting away from the road as fast as they could.

They didn't dare look back. They slipped into the forest to conceal themselves, throwing themselves down behind a dirt slope and lying still, hardly daring to breathe.

Not until the thunderous sound of hooves gradually faded did the three relax their tense nerves and poke their heads out.

"Who were those people? A band of robbers?" Lohak immediately thought of the looted village they had encountered the previous day.

Leon was noncommittal. "Who knows? Maybe it's the local lord's army."

"Should we keep following that road?" Azerion frowned deeply, worried about encountering that group again.

Leon fell into thought, feeling he had miscalculated. He had originally thought heading north would be safer, but they still ran into a military force.

Judging by the rhythmic and orderly hoofbeats, it was undoubtedly a well-trained cavalry unit.

He couldn't be sure if this cavalry was a vanguard of an army or if a larger force was marching behind them. If his speculation was correct, under no circumstances could they turn back now.

He shared his suspicions with his companions. After a brief discussion, they decided to continue moving forward through the woods along this direction. Knowing nothing about the foreign roads, they didn't have many options.

"Everyone, stay alert and pay attention to any sounds on the road. If something's off, we'll all run deeper into the forest."

In silence, they quickened their pace along the woodland by the roadside.

They hadn't gone far when another rumble of hoofbeats passed orderly along the road. They hurriedly concealed themselves in the woods again, and the pressure in Leon's heart grew.

Before nightfall, they veered off the path and ventured deeper into the dense forest, finding a rocky hollow facing away from the road where they finally dared to light a fire and camp.

That night, Leon tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Heading north had been his suggestion, and now the path was fraught with unforeseen risks, making him feel somewhat regretful.

... Could there be an army encamped at the end of this road?

If they ran headlong into the Kantadar army, could they escape?

Or perhaps they could use the few phrases in Uria that Azerion had taught them to pretend to be locals and try to bluff their way through?

Lost in thought, he frowned. Suddenly recalling the village from the previous day, Leon sensed something amiss.

If there were such large-scale local military movements around that village, how could bandits be so brazen as to loot the local settlements?

Weren't those bandits afraid of running into the lord's army and losing their heads as trophies?

Unless—

Recalling the terrifying scenes of the fall of Rolannar City, where the Kantadar army and brutal mercenaries burned, killed, and looted in the Holy City.

Leon arrived at a cruel conclusion.

An old saying, once distant to him, flashed into his mind:

"Bandits scour like combs; soldiers scour like sieves."

The ones who ravaged that village might have been the Kantadar army themselves.