Eric had instructed Hessin to chain his Warband’s two Dragon Ships together. Each Dragon Ship towed a transport vessel carrying horses.

Only a few men in Eric’s Warband had experience fighting on horseback; the rest were either axe-wielding Infantry or Archers. Thus, Eric hadn’t prepared Warhorses for them—affordability being one reason, of course. Instead, he had purchased some packhorses and riding horses as substitutes.

Riding horses were smaller but had good Endurance, making them very cost-effective.

The coastline receded, growing more distant until it vanished from sight. Hessin eagerly unfurled his sails. Bolstered by the sea wind, the ship’s hull shuddered and then surged forward, its Speed increasing severalfold.

"WOOHOO! WOOHOO! OH! OH!"

Hessin scrambled up the mast and waved his hat at the ships they were rapidly leaving behind, looking utterly delighted.

The other members of the Warband on board joined his cries, taunting the vessels falling far behind them.

Robert Belem, a man who had absolutely nothing to do with them and was, in fact, a stowaway, was somehow the loudest of them all.

Leif lay at the stern, too lazy to join the pointless charade, and simply covered his face with his hat.

The spectacle didn’t last long, as the ships behind them soon dwindled into tiny specks on the horizon.

"Hessin, we’re going too fast. Slow down," Eric said, looking at him.

"It’s fine, Mr. Priest, don’t worry. I’d wager the Navigators in that fleet behind us are nowhere near as skilled as I am. My teacher was the Guard, you know! I’ve studied the charts for this sea countless times.

"Relax, we’ll be fine. We’ll definitely get there before them. Besides, even that last storm couldn’t defeat us. We’re not the ones who should be afraid—it’s those rookie sailors back there." Hessin tilted his head back, his face a mask of pride as he made his solemn vow.

’He was a rookie sailor himself.’

"I still think we should slow down."

"It’s fine, Mr. Priest. We can’t possibly run into two storms in a single month. That would be too much."

...

「One day later, on a coast in England.」

Eric forcefully twisted his Cultivator’s robe, wringing the water out of it.

Hessin stood nearby, sporting two black eyes, staring at the soaked sea chart in his hands as he earnestly tried to determine their location.

Indeed, one couldn’t possibly encounter two storms in a single month. So this time, they encountered a tsunami instead.

Fortunately, the hulls hadn’t been breached. Both his ships were intact, and roughly three hours after the tsunami hit, they found the coast.

This was thanks to Hessin having reinforced the Dragon Ship with a deck, making the hull much sturdier. The weapons and equipment stored below deck had also survived. Aside from losing one of the transport ships carrying the horses, they had suffered almost no losses.

Otherwise, Hessin would have gotten much more than just a couple of black eyes.

"Let’s find a village first. We can ask for our location there. Besides, it’s already dark. We need to find a place to rest for the night."

Eric snatched the sea chart from Hessin’s hands and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Time to start raiding?" Belem, who had been meticulously primping his hair, suddenly grew animated and drew the Longsword from his hip.

"Belem, put your Sword away," Robert said impatiently, pouring water out of his shoes. "I need to get our bearings first, and the rest of our men aren’t here yet."

"I hope we’re not anywhere near London, or we’re finished," Robert muttered under his breath.

"Everyone, put on your Chain Armor, then cover it with an outer robe," Eric called out.

Including Eric, Robert, and Belem, their party numbered only fifty men.

If they ran into a Lord’s armed retinue, they’d likely be finished in short order.

After concealing the three ships with rotten leaves and branches, the group walked into the Forest ahead.

As it was already night and they were walking through a Forest, they had only the faint moonlight to guide them, and their vision was blurred.

They walked for about an hour, but still saw no sign of any light.

Marching in armor began to take its toll, and some of the men started to struggle. Their pace slowed, but no one complained.

Suddenly, Eric heard a sound—the sound of flowing water.

Eric picked up his pace and broke into a run. A moment later, he emerged into a clearing. Before him was a very shallow river—or perhaps creek was a more fitting term. Its surface shimmered under the moonlight.

A few men ran eagerly to the bank, cupped water in their hands, and began to drink.

The noise level rose abruptly.

"Who? Who’s there!?" a strange voice called out from the opposite bank. It was a man’s voice.

Eric started to move toward the sound, but Robert grabbed his arm and shook his head.

Unexpectedly, however, the person on the other side began to slowly approach them.

The figure grew clearer: a portly, middle-aged man wearing a thin gray tunic that offered little warmth and a tattered hat. He was carrying a bucket, obviously here to fetch water.

’He must be just a villager from nearby.’

"We are travelers, just passing through," Eric said, taking a few steps forward.

"You’re a Priest?" the stout man asked, recognizing his attire.

"Yes. We are travelers from the north. We’ve lost our way and are looking for a village to spend the night." Eric continued to walk forward, the Silver Cross on his chest glinting in the moonlight.

"But you’re all carrying so many weapons."

"They’re hunters. There are many hunters up north, and I’m their village Priest. As you know, things are very chaotic in the north right now."

"Come now, friend. You’re certainly no ordinary hunters. But it doesn’t matter. No, it doesn’t matter anymore. We happen to need a Priest’s help. If you’re willing, we can share our dinner with you as payment, regardless of who you are.

"Though to be honest, you Northern People truly are a pitiful lot."

The stout man muttered to himself and then shrugged. Though it was hard to make out his face, Eric sensed a deep sadness about him.

"Thank you kindly. May God bless you."

"If only that were true. Come with me. But things aren’t good where we are. Don’t get your hopes up."

The stout man waved them over and then led the way.

Eric gestured to the men behind him, signaling for them to form two groups: Archers at the front and axemen at the rear, with some distance between them.

’Even though he didn’t seem hostile,’ Eric thought, ’it’s always better to be cautious.’

After walking for ten minutes or so, a light finally came into view, along with the faint outlines of buildings.

As they drew closer, the village came into sharp focus.

It was a village that had been almost completely burned to the ground.

The acrid smell of smoke still hung in the air, but it was faint, and there were no lingering embers.

’This must have happened at least two days ago.’