School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 212 --Ambush

"Right, let’s get going."

Owen suddenly remembered; he was on a quest to marry the unparalleled beauty hosting the contest at the magic tower.

The tower had nine levels, each guarded by a formidable opponent.

Whoever could break through all nine levels would win the witch’s hand in marriage.

Now, with warriors from across the nation converging on the magic tower, he couldn’t afford to lag behind.

"What’s the rush?" Rose slipped out of Owen’s embrace, puffing up with indignation, "You’re all about fun, letting the horses run off. We need to head to town first to buy horses. Follow me."

Rose headed towards the town, and after only a few steps, let out a shriek.

Owen quickly scooped her up and dashed forward.

"Just so you know," Rose playfully feigned anger, pounding on Owen’s chest, "even if you marry her, you must reserve two days a week for me."

"Don’t worry." Owen assured her.

"I’ll hold you to that." Rose’s cheeks blushed sweeter than the air around them.

It didn’t take long for the two to reach the town.

This small town was on the essential route westward to the magic tower, making it crowded with people, the streets bustling more than usual.

Rose led Owen to the only horse trader in town.

Approaching the trader, Rose said, "Sir, we need two horses."

Pointing towards the corral, the merchant replied, "Miss, these are the only two left. Will they do?"

"Fine, we’ll take these two." Rose glanced at the horses.

Though not the finest steeds, they were by no means inferior.

"Move aside! I’m taking these horses."

Just then, a burly man stepped in front of Rose, throwing a bag of coins onto the merchant’s counter.

"We were here first, what gives you the right?" Rose angrily confronted the burly man, who, without a word, attempted to strike Rose with an open palm.

Upon seeing the danger, Owen immediately stepped in front of Rose, catching the burly man’s fist and crushing his bones with a squeeze.

"Ah!" The man screamed in agony, his cries summoning his companions.

"You idiot, do you know who we are? We’re from the Lion Gang, and we’ll make you regret crossing us!"

Over twenty members of the Lion Gang, armed with a variety of weapons, charged towards Owen.

Owen didn’t dodge.

Wielding his sheathed sword, a mere wave emitted a not-so-forceful sword aura that knocked all twenty-plus attackers to the ground.

"I’ll call the boss!"

The one farthest from Owen scrambled up and ran off, while the others, nursing broken arms or legs, lay on the ground wailing in pain.

After a while, the leader of the Lion Gang approached, picking his teeth with a toothpick and scolding his subordinates.

"A bunch of idiots. Can’t even enjoy a meal in peace. Told you to buy two more horses, bring some gifts, and you stir up this mess. Now you’ve delayed my journey to marry the witch..."

"As if you could marry the witch."

In an instant, Owen moved in front of the Lion Gang’s boss, slapping him to the ground.

"A mere weakling dares to compete with me."

As Owen spoke, he lifted the boss from the ground, delivering several more slaps that left the man speechless and seeing stars.

Owen then threw the Lion Gang’s leader to the ground and asked, "Idiot, do you have horses?"

The boss spat out two teeth and nodded.

"Pick out the best two horses for me and Rose."

The boss signaled to his subordinates.

Some of them limped back to the tavern to fetch the horses, while others stood behind their leader, silent as the grave.

Before long, two fine horses were led over.

Owen pulled Rose in front of him and commanded, "All of you kneel down and apologize to her. Each of you will kowtow three times."

The Lion Gang’s boss stood there frozen, while the gang members exchanged bewildered looks.

Owen made a motion as if to draw Ice.

Sighing, the Lion Gang boss conceded, "We’re outmatched. We’ll do it."

He led by example, kowtowing three times to Rose, and his men followed suit.

The town, which had quieted down due to the skirmish, watched from a safe distance, the vendors having scattered long ago.

People stood by, too afraid to make a sound, making the successive thuds of kowtows echo even more distinctly.

"You should all give up on going to the magic tower," Owen said, hoisting Rose onto one horse and mounting the other himself, looking down at the Lion Gang boss from his elevated position.

"If I see you at the magic tower, I’ll twist your head off."

With that, he and Rose rode off towards the east, leaving the Lion Gang members lying on the ground, too afraid to get up for a long while.

As evening approached, Owen and Rose sought lodging in a village.

Due to its proximity to the main road, the village also had an inn.

After choosing two adjacent rooms, they sat down in the dining hall for dinner, chatting as they ate.

Reflecting on the recent events, Owen asked Rose if she thought his actions had been excessive, or even arrogant and vulgar.

"Excessive? They got what they deserved! Overestimating their own abilities," Rose retorted with wide eyes.

"The young master is a peerless genius in this world. What’s wrong with being arrogant? The young master has every right to be."

"Oh, is that so?"

"That’s right. But when it comes to being vulgar, the young master can be quite so at times," the young woman said, her cheeks flushing red again.

"Oh, is that so?" Owen caught her implication, his mind drifting to slightly wicked thoughts.

Owen boldly entered Rose’s room that night and extinguished the candle in front of her.

It was no big deal; he remembered their relationship had already begun.

Even if it hadn’t been initiated before, as a maid, wasn’t she supposed to be at his beck and call?

Such thoughts subtly arose in his mind.

The next day, Owen didn’t wake up particularly early or late.

He didn’t wake Rose but went to the lobby to have breakfast alone.

By the time he had finished his meal, Rose had just gotten out of bed.

Owen teasingly pinched her cheek before running off to play outside the village.

It wasn’t until noon that they had lunch and continued their journey eastward.

Less than ten miles out, they came upon an overturned carriage on the road.

The two horses that had been pulling the carriage lay on the ground, foaming at the mouth, evidently close to death from exhaustion.

A beautiful woman was trapped under the carriage, and the coachman tried to lift it, but the iron carriage was too heavy for him.

Owen and Rose stopped five steps away from the carriage.

Rose remained silent, waiting for Owen to make a decision as her role of a maid dictated.

"Do you need help?" Owen asked, his lips curling with a barely noticeable sneer.

The woman struggled to shout, "Save me, please save me!"

"Ah, you’re our savior. Come, help me lift this," the coachman said eagerly.

"Sure!" Owen dismounted and struck the coachman’s head with a palm.

The coachman’s hidden weapon hadn’t even been deployed before Owen’s strike landed, causing blood to flow from his seven orifices, and he fell to the ground.

From the woods on either side of the road, seven or eight assailants emerged, but their skills were worlds apart from Owen’s.

Owen’s sword shadows, as if endowed with eyes, automatically pursued the ambushers.

In less than a minute, all seven or eight men lay on the ground, dead or injured.

Owen dragged the three survivors together and demanded, "Who are you? Why did you attempt to ambush me?"

The one in the middle, apparently the leader, remained silent, his neck stubbornly angled, while the two on the sides exchanged glances but said nothing.

"Very well!"

With a swift palm strike, Owen ended the life of the man in the middle.

"I’ll talk, I’ll talk!" the remaining two hurriedly volunteered.

Without pausing, Owen’s palm claimed the life of the one on the left, then he addressed the sole survivor, "Speak.

There’s no one left to compete with you now."

"We saw you defeat the Lion Gang by yourself in the town and figured as long as you were around, we stood no chance of winning the witch. So, a few of us masters banded together to ambush you on the road."

"We traveled day and night to get ahead of you, but who would have thought... we deserved death, truly overestimating ourselves."

"Now you understand, but it’s too late."

With another palm strike, Owen ended his life as well.

Mounting his horse, Owen was about to leave with Rose when the woman, mustering her courage, pleaded, "Sir, please, I beg your forgiveness. Let me out."

"It was supposed to be just a play, but who knew they would take it to such malevolent lengths, making it real. Sir, you..."

"Hmph, let them rescue you. Rose, let’s go!"

Owen spurred his horse forward, leaving the woman behind with the corpses as her only company.

Despite the ambush, Owen didn’t slow down his journey eastward.

Late that night, the two arrived at "City of One."

The origin of the town’s name was unknown, seemingly chosen at random.

However, the town’s layout was typical, featuring a commercial street, an apothecary, and all the usual amenities.

This time, Owen simply booked a single room at the inn, where he and Rose went to bed, both feeling content.

By dawn, the sound of clashing swords woke Rose.

Walking to the bedside, she saw people fiercely dueling on the street below.

Excitedly, she pulled Owen to the window to watch the spectacle.

Owen had actually been awake for a while.

With his level of cultivation, he had sensed the faint killing intent before the two groups even began fighting, but he couldn’t be bothered to get up or look.

The combatants were of low skill, hardly worth watching, and in Owen’s view, who lived or died had nothing to do with him.

Yet, Rose was immensely interested, persistently asking Owen who would win.

Owen, feeling too lazy to respond, simply remarked that predicting the outcome now would spoil the fun.

It was curious, this fascination of hers.

Typically, women preferred to stay as far away as possible from such violent scenes, didn’t they?

At least, that seemed to be the case with everyone else on the street, who had all hidden themselves away.