Looking up once more at the two individuals, Lance clearly rembered that his ntor had hired them as carriage guards. Their task was to escort him to his territory.
This perfectly matched the circumstances of the lord’s two subordinates at the beginning of the ga. It was such an outlandish coincidence that Lance felt as though an invisible hand was orchestrating everything from behind the scenes.
The one in knight armor was the Crusader, Reynard, and the one in the coat was the highwayman, Dismas.
In the ga’s backstory, their experiences were sowhat vague. The only certainty was that they were both ruthless n who had killed countless people. However, for so reason, they had embarked on paths of self-redemption, transforming from killers into protectors.
However, reality wasn’t like a ga where a click of the mouse guaranteed eternal loyalty. Whether he could retain these two would be key to opening up the situation. After all, the territory was anything but peaceful, and right now, they were the only cards he had to play.
Just as Lance was pondering this, a loud crack rang out from sowhere, interrupting his thoughts.
"It’s gunfire!" Dismas, who had been dozing with his eyes closed, suddenly snapped them open, his gaze sharp.
Reynard, anwhile, grasped his longsword. Although he remained seated, he exuded the aura of soone ready to charge.
"Bandits!" The butler at the front shouted and cracked the whip fiercely, trying to urge the horses to speed up and distance themselves from the attackers.
Stimulated, the horses bolted, their speed rapidly increasing amidst their frantic neighs. The jolting reached a level unbearable for ordinary people. Lance felt as though his brain was about to be scrambled.
But on this dilapidated road, high speed was not a good thing.
Before he could react, it felt as if they had struck sothing. The entire carriage seed to beco airborne, and the violent jolting montarily ceased. But in the next second, it slamd down hard with a trendous crash, then tilted and rolled onto its side.
The two n sitting opposite him instantly grabbed onto their seats to steady themselves and were not greatly affected.
But Lance, like soone without a seatbelt, was thrown violently against the carriage wall. Only when the two pulled him out did he recover from his dizziness.
"Are you alright?" Reynard’s voice, deep and male, emanated from within his helt, made even more muffled by the steel.
"I’m fine."
Ignoring everything else, Lance quickly got up to assess the situation.
His fears had materialized. At such high speed, even a small stone or a pothole could send the carriage flying. The subsequent crash had snapped the axle. The entire carriage overturned, scattering its contents—the original owner’s belongings, rely so clothes and books—everywhere.
As for the butler and the carriage horses, they had long since disappeared. The butler had likely fled on one of the horses.
The old road, the carriage overturning... Lance felt as if his dormant mories were starting to attack him.
"The bandits will be here soon. We need to leave quickly," Dismas said, pulling out a flintlock pistol and beginning to load it. His eyes darted alertly, scanning the surroundings for any sign of the attackers.
"It looks like we still have quite a way to go before reaching the town," Reynard remarked, gazing into the distance where the ancient road was obscured by somber trees, making it impossible to see far.
"If we want to survive, we can’t run."
Lance spoke, interrupting the two n who were discussing escape. His statent seed sowhat counterintuitive.
"What do you an?" Dismas asked, looking at him strangely, his distrust unconcealed.
Although Reynard said nothing, the questioning gaze from beneath his helt intensified.
Both n’s attitudes had clearly changed. Without a reasonable explanation, neither would follow him into what seed like madness.
Lance, however, didn’t seem to care much. If this wasn’t an accident, then he already had a good idea of what would happen next.
"We have no carriage now, and we’re unfamiliar with the surroundings. Are you confident you can evade the bandits on foot? Once they catch up, our physical and ntal exhaustion will be imnse, making the fight even harder. So, combat is unavoidable. If we want to live, we must seize the initiative."
"You an you want to attack the bandits proactively? There are only three of us."
Dismas’s words were actually quite polite. In reality, everyone understood that the true fighting strength was just the two of them. They also had to protect Lance, their seemingly frail employer.
"No," Lance slowly shook his head. "A large raiding party wouldn’t be signaled by a single musket shot. For ambushes like these along the road, I estimate a small group of at most four or five. If our tactics are sound, this won’t be difficult."
As he spoke, Lance turned to Dismas.
"How good is your marksmanship?"
"I never miss," Dismas replied without hesitation, clearly confident in his skill.
"I trust you," Lance said with a smile, then gestured to their surroundings as he laid out his plan.
"The tactic is simple. The woods on both sides are our natural camouflage. We’ll lie in ambush and wait for the bandits to appear. The scattered goods will lure them to stop here.
"Then, I need you to shoot first and kill the bandits’ Musketeer. Continue to reload and eliminate whoever you deem most threatening. Maximize the advantage of our surprise attack, and don’t reveal your position too easily."
He then looked at Reynard to assign his task.
"When the gunfire sounds, I’ll create a diversion on the other side to draw the enemy’s attention. This will buy Dismas ti to load a second round and also lure the bandits into our trap.
"Your armor is too conspicuous and hinders your movent. Therefore, I need you to lie in ambush in the undergrowth. When they are drawn in by my diversion, strike out and inflict as many casualties as possible."
Dismas had originally thought Lance’s tactic would be for Dismas to lure the enemy away, while the Knight stayed behind to protect Lance, much like other employers he had served. He never imagined this man would actually take on the role of bait himself, placing himself in extre danger and entrusting his safety to them. That long-lost trust felt unfamiliar, a sensation of blood pumping vigorously—he had forgotten when he last experienced it.
Lance, however, didn’t seem to notice Dismas’s unusual reaction and instead waited for Reynard’s answer.
"No problem. The Holy Light guides ," Reynard said, raising his longsword. His action affird his willingness to undertake this perilous mission.
Hearing this, Lance finally heaved a sigh of relief. Without their Musketeer, the bandits would have to get past Reynard to reach him. So, the tactic truly required Reynard to confront the bandits directly, while he himself, despite seeming to be in peril, was actually not in much danger.
In less than two minutes after the carriage overturned, Lance had taken control of the situation. Then, the three n lay hidden in the dense woods on either side of the road, waiting for the bandits to arrive.
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