In the wilderness at the border between Bastia and Hamlet, the Barbarian Mercenaries finally caught a break after slipping into the woods.

"No one's chasing us."

"We've finally shaken them off!"

The arrival of sunlight is precious to them, even though they are accustomed to darkness, they ultimately yearn for light.

After all, being chased like piglets all night long had almost broken their legs; only those like the Barbarian Tribes trained from a young age could withstand it, while serfs wouldn't last a few steps before dying under the sword.

"Where are we?"

"Gather everyone here."

"Coo coo coo!" A Barbarian blew a whistle that sounded like a bird penetrating through the woods.

Bruce's pursuit didn't keep them too far apart, and soon voices started echoing around, and scattered Barbarians gathered together.

A troop of over a hundred Barbarians, among which perhaps only one-third are Barbarian Mercenaries, while the rest are warriors from various tribes, who joined not necessarily without a desire for training.

Although they lost some people, Barbarians love to brag.

"These knights really are no good, so timid they don't dare come forth."

"If they'd risked a frontal charge, who knows what would have happened."

"These cowards didn't dare follow us into the woods."

"If they dare come in, we'll kill them all."

In their understanding, last night's situation showed Bastia knights were indeed weak, not that Bruce had deliberately gone easy on them.

Hmm, that's how everyone thinks.

Anyway, it's not about their lack of skill, as they are sons of the Mountains.

But last night's situation also revealed one of their weaknesses, specifically their fragmentation and lack of a leader who could oversee the whole situation.

Initially, they did quite well in covering each other's retreat, but just a little distance torn them apart.

Because these days, they haven't seen those from the Empire dare come out, leading to their complacency, so they were shocked by the sudden appearance of cavalry.

In reality, if these Barbarians could organize themselves, they wouldn't have been so easily scattered by the Order of Knights, dozens of musketeers in the troop firing a volley, short spears and flying axes these throwing weapons being wielded, maybe not killing the men but wounding their horses would cripple the knights.

But the problem is while serving as mercenaries here, they couldn't help but get infected by the Empire's common people's fear of knights, coupled with their lack of cohesion from belonging to different tribes, one charge dissolving them.

Bastia's soldiers are weak, and so are the Barbarians; after so many years without engaging in large scale warfare, besides those core elites, the rest are about the same.

It's a world of comparison of the worst.

"No wonder those knights didn't pursue us, seems like we're already past Bastia."

Some among them who've served as mercenaries and are familiar with Bastia pointed out directly.

"What do we do next?"

"Keep raiding, obviously!"

"I don't want to starve in winter."

The remaining Barbarians conferred, deciding to continue their raids; after all, to them, whether it's Bastia or elsewhere, it's all the Empire, and they were here to plunder, caring little about anything else.

......

Within Hamlet territory, a large caravan trekked along the dilapidated roads; they were Gene's grain collection squad.

These roads were built years ago, in Hamlet's decline, they haven't been repaired for many years, maintained with difficulty by some business caravans passing through.

But these roads clearly aren't passable by that luxurious carriage; they had to send people ahead to smooth the way.

However, this tedious work couldn't be assigned to Michel's Personal Guards, and Gene's caravan had downsized most of its members, so it was left to the Ovando City Defense Force.

"Damn, why are we the ones fixing roads?"

"Zip it, or you'll regret ticking off those people."

"Yeah, I bet you're itching for a whipping."

Though disgruntled, he only dared complain here, lacking the courage even to curse aloud.

Because yesterday, a poor sod somehow ticked off the Guard, earning a whipping, his face covered in bloody lashes.

Another one inexplicably got beaten and soon fell unconscious after crawling back, now lying on one of the carts with chances of survival uncertain.

These city defense soldiers typically bullied common folk, yet here, they're filled with apprehension, one can only say "evil will be punished by another evil."

Hearing his team member's words, that man hurried up his work, fearing the caravan catching up.

"Move it! Get the hell out of my way." Just then, a fast steed returned, clearing out the men since no one wanted a whipping.

"What's going on?"

"Must be something up ahead."

The city defense soldiers recognized it was a noble's scout cavalry, riding urgently, wondering what they encountered.

The funny thing is these city defense troops, despite knowing problems were likely ahead, acted casually, some even chatting.

It's not that they were all elite soldiers, unafraid of trouble, but having faced no issues along the way, naturally relaxed, especially with noble escorts around, dealing with matters without involving them.

"Report! Seems a village ahead is occupied by bandits."

The scout cavalry delivered the news swiftly reaching Gene.

"Sir, since that's the case, let's change our course back." Gene tentatively sought Michel's opinion.

He didn't want to take risks, opting to distance himself first.

Since bandits controlled the village, the grain he wanted was gone, without profit motivating a businessman to take risks is impossible.

Yet to Michel, it's different, visibly intrigued.

"No, go take care of those bandits!"

Michel grew weary of city life, eager for adventure, having heard of chaos outside, yet found no bandits or robbers crossing his path.

Finally encountering trouble, unwilling to miss the opportunity, even appearing somewhat excited.

And the leader of the Personal Guards surprisingly agreed.

"Sir is right, eliminating bandits occupying the village means we won't have to camp tonight."

The leader's words clued Gene in, these folks aren't just aiming to exterminate bandits but likely eyeing plundering.

He almost suspected whether bandits really occupied the village.

Yet Gene said nothing further, since the village grain was destined for his pocket, making him a beneficiary.

"Quick!" Michel was eager, jumping off his carriage to mount a high steed.

The Personal Guards received orders, promptly taking action with ease, ready for battle, unlike the city defense soldiers clueless regarding ongoing events, observing others moving ahead seemingly nervous.

The reason was simple, the city defense commander's rank was merely that of a junior knight, and Michel couldn't care less even to glance at him, let alone explain.

Gene was the communication bridge.

"Hurry and catch up, just keep an eye on the caravan." Gene was free to stay behind but worried for Michel's safety, thus tagging along.

The knight had no issue hearing this, unable to partake in the spoils but freed from fighting.

Let anyone willing join, he certainly wouldn't.

Messing around with women was his thing, not risking lives.

Consequently, the Personal Guards parted ways from the caravan, allowing Gene to witness their prowess as he caught up.

The cavalry had spread across the village perimeter, scouts confirming no enemy ambushes, controlling the outskirts, yet trampling rice fields as the cavalry charged—the spectacle which Lance saw would likely condemn them to a sanatorium in fury.

Damn, that's near the autumn harvest, squandering grain is punishable by divine wrath, aren't you aware?

Even Gene felt a touch of pain witnessing it, knowing it's all money.

But the Personal Guards weren't bothered, as cavalry advanced, infantry moved in seamlessly.

The village was merely low walls and fences, good for wild beast defense, yet facing troops crumbled instantly, when they seized the village gate, the battle concluded.