Chapter Forty-Two: The Bandits

“This is my cousin, her name is Glena,” the girl across from him explained with a gentle smile, noticing Chen Ming’s gaze.

Chen Ming nodded in response. “She’s a lovely child.”

He turned to the girl opposite him and asked, “Elena, are your people ready?”

Elena was the girl’s name. She nodded, indicating she had no doubts.

Chen Ming then led his group outside the town, where dozens were already waiting. He had arranged for them to gather there with the goods.

With a low whinny from the horses, the party set out along the main road, moving slowly forward. As they left, Chen Ming seemed to sense something and cast a subtle glance at the large tree behind him, his smile meaningful, but he made no further move.

Only when the group had disappeared from sight did a shadow slowly emerge beneath the tree. It was a burly, sinister-looking man, stained with blood and clearly dangerous.

Yet, at that moment, he bowed his head, gulping fresh air, his eyes filled with disbelief.

“He definitely noticed me just now—how?” Cold sweat drenched him as Chen Ming’s fleeting glance replayed in his mind again and again.

“Forget it. Now that there’s a red-robed priest guarding the target, I can’t handle it.” He looked at the distant carriage fading from view and strode off decisively in another direction, his movements swift and agile thanks to his fighting spirit.

Time passed, and meanwhile, Elena sat quietly in the swaying carriage, watching the scenery drift by, unable to suppress a sigh.

In front of her, a small figure clung to Elena, silent, simply holding her gently.

“Elena, do you think we’ll make it home safely?” After a while, Glena’s trembling voice broke the silence, filled with uncertainty.

Elena forced a smile and replied tenderly, “Of course we will! We’ve already hired a priest to protect us, haven’t we?”

Reassured by Elena’s words, the little girl finally relaxed a little, then curiously asked, “Are priests truly powerful?”

Elena smiled. “In the Northlands, priests are among the strongest.”

“They worship the gods and are distinguished by their robes and insignia: white-robed priests, red-robed priests, yellow-robed priests, and high priests. Among them, red robes are equivalent to our grand knights.”

At this, Glena’s eyes lit up. “Red-robed priests are like grand knights—so what about yellow-robed priests and high priests?”

“Yellow-robed priests are comparable to earth knights, and high priests to sky knights,” came a gentle voice as an elderly man entered the carriage, regarding the two sisters with kindness.

“However, among high priests, it’s said only the Pontiff himself and another, the hero Karuba who supposedly swallowed a leaf from the Sacred Tree, have reached that level in all the Northlands.”

He paused, then continued, “But neither of these are ordinary sky knights. Karuba once slew a disaster-class monster ravaging the Northlands on his own, and Pontiff Gramah, wielding a branch of the Sacred Tree, is surely no weaker than Karuba.”

The old man sighed, “The power of the gods is truly enviable.”

Elena and the others echoed his sigh, saying nothing.

The divine might, perhaps incomprehensible to the more sheltered tribes of the Northlands, was deeply felt and awe-inspiring for Elena and her kin from the great families of the South.

She took a pale blue insignia from her bosom, the sacred glow bestowed by priestly magic quietly shimmering upon it, filling her with warmth.

Gazing at the badge, her eyes brightened as she turned to the old man. “Grandfather Green, can we worship the God of Nature as well?”

She looked at the pale blue badge, a hint of excitement in her gaze. “I’ve heard that worshiping the God of Nature requires no special conditions—only sincere faith, and one can keep advancing. Unlike learning fighting spirit, which has all sorts of harsh requirements.”

The old man hesitated, pondering for a moment before replying, “That’s true, but worshiping the gods demands not only devotion but, it’s said, also a certain sensitivity to the divine.”

Elena, however, was undeterred. Excitement glimmered in her eyes as she examined the insignia, declaring resolutely, “It’s settled then. Once we’re truly safe, I’ll lead Glena in worship of the God of Nature.”

There was determination in her gaze—a yearning for power. She thought for a moment, then added, “I’ve heard that when a believer is first initiated, if blessed by a priest, they become closer to the gods from the very start.”

“There’s a red-robed priest outside. When we reach the South, I’ll ask him, at least to ensure Glena receives a blessing.” She bit her lip, thinking of Chen Ming outside.

Elsewhere, beneath a cliff in a rarely trodden area, over a hundred people were encamped.

At the center stood a man with a dark red complexion, who asked a steel-armored figure, “Has Spike returned yet?”

The armored man turned. “Not yet, but according to his last message, he should be back about now.”

Just then, there were shouts outside. Someone entered and bowed. “Chief, Lord Spike has returned.”

The dark-faced man nodded. “Let him in.”

Soon after, a man clad in leather armor, his face fierce and wild, strode in.

“Spike, what’s the situation? Did you find the target?” someone beside him asked, noting Spike’s sweat-drenched appearance. “What happened to you?”

Spike managed a bitter smile, then addressed the chief, “Lord Art, I found the target.”

He paused, then added, “But there’s been a complication—a red-robed priest has been hired to escort them south.”

“A red-robed priest? Don’t the priests here refuse to accept outsiders’ commissions?” someone exclaimed in surprise.

“Probably a newly promoted priest from a local tribe, headed south to spread the faith,” another guessed.

Someone among them hesitated, turning to the chief. “Sir, if there’s a priest present, and if the tribes come after us because of this, wouldn’t it be a bad deal?”

“Right, chief,” another stepped forward. “We’ve already attracted attention from the local tribes, but since we haven’t targeted followers of the God of Nature, they’ve not taken it seriously. But if we confront a priest here, win or lose, we’ll surely provoke their wrath.”

Art nodded, listening to his subordinates, glancing outside.

Out there, a ripple of fighting spirit emerged as a man strode into the group.

He was tall, handsome, and carried an air of nobility.

“Let me introduce him. This is a descendant of the Dills family,” Art said.

At this, the camp fell silent in shock.

The Dills family—little known in the North, but renowned in the heart of the southern city-states, enough to hush even the most unruly bandits.

Art, satisfied, nodded. “The Dills family promises that if we eliminate the target, we’ll be granted a real, sealed territory.”

“And fighting spirit as well.”

He suddenly drew his blade, sending a surge of fighting spirit that sliced a tree in half behind him.

“That’s an earth knight…” The crowd stared in awe at Art.

The nobleman stepped forward, smiling at the crowd. “This is a fighting spirit manual provided by the Dills family—enough to advance to earth knight. If you all give your utmost and complete this task, everyone will receive a copy.”

Instantly, hungry, eager eyes blazed all around.

Yet Spike, standing aside, glanced at the scene, recalling Chen Ming’s deep, calm gaze. For reasons unknown, a faint unease crept into his heart.