Regardless of anything, in a rural place like Ridenburg, Brand’s sword strike as he got off the carriage was indeed astonishing, enough to intimidate every malicious and restless person around, making them seem to choke and stand obediently. Although the street remained crowded, everyone understood that the person on this carriage was not soone to be trifled with, and they kept a subtle distance from it.
And the two unlucky corpses were displayed brazenly under the carriage. The young man didn’t say how to handle them, so the others dared not ddle, pretending not to see. Moreover, the corpses themselves were a form of intimidation — the newcors glanced at the bodies, then the carriage that seed isolated in the crowd, instantly knowing where they shouldn’t go.
Sitting inside the carriage, Brand was also worried, wondering where Frey was and why she hadn’t co yet.
However, the concern in his heart didn’t show on his face. He turned to look outside. At this mont, another batch of fierce-looking n followed behind the carriage, pushing away anyone blocking their path, eting any resistance with severe beatings.
"Trouble just keeps coming, doesn’t it?" Brand frowned, alertly placing one hand on his sword.
"Who are they?" Char looked outside and asked.
"rchants in the city," replied the carriage driver, who was initially scared out of his wits when Brand drew his sword to kill. But now he had sowhat cald down — the stronger Brand was, the greater his chances of survival.
"They seem like bullies," Brand observed their behavior and glanced at the indifferent yet fearful expression on the driver’s face. He understood who these people were.
"Your fellow rchants don’t seem like good people, Little Roman," he said, turning back.
"No worries." Little Roman sat beside him, wearing a look of security.
As they conversed, the group had already approached the carriage. Initially, they seed intent on seizing Brand’s carriage, but upon seeing the two corpses outside, their expressions changed. Unlike the previous ones, these rchants and their guards had discernnt, knowing who to oppress and who was best left alone.
They hesitated montarily, then continued pushing forward. These guards, accustod to bullying in their daily lives, acted even more ruthlessly under pressure, quickly shoving many by Brand’s carriage. A middle-aged man was pushed, stumbling and hitting his forehead on the carriage wheel, causing blood to flow profusely.
"Father!" A child’s panicked and innocent voice ca from the crowd.
The middle-aged man groaned, then propped himself up with the carriage and dashed at the guard who pushed him, catching the guard off guard and knocking him into the crowd.
The crowd erupted in chaos.
The middle-aged man imdiately turned and ran into the crowd, grabbing a little boy and fleeing. But the guards’ accomplices wouldn’t let him get away, quickly catching up and pinning him down just as he found his son.
"Let go of my father!" The little boy panicked, crying and trying to push away the guard pressing on the middle-aged man. But he didn’t have the strength and was easily shoved aside.
The guard who was knocked down struggled to his feet, cursing loudly as he unsheathed his sword and approached, grabbing the middle-aged man’s hair and pulling his head up, shouting, "Peasant, tired of living? I’ll end you today."
The middle-aged man shivered and struggled unwillingly but was held down by the accomplices, unable to move. The surrounding people averted their gaze, feeling a dire helplessness but dared not intervene.
The guard cursed profusely while raising his sword, but before he could stab, a sword wind swept through the carriage door, splitting it into two and shooting straight out. The transparent ripple not only knocked the guard’s sword away, making it fly and embed in a nearby wooden door with a ’clang’ — but the guard also suddenly scread, clutching his bloodied hand, his palm severed at the wrist.
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