Six months later, in Grey Stone Town, Hans Viscount Domain.
This once-desolate town had now replaced New Wood Town of the Duval Baron’s Domain, becoming a vital hub on the Northern Trade Route.
Despite the winter, the town bustled with the clamor of horses and carriages all day long as caravans from all over flowed in and out endlessly.
Not even the swirling blizzards could dampen the people’s love for "Henry."
That afternoon, a thin boy nad Li trudged through the filthy slush on the ground, expertly navigating the noisy market before arriving at a rented house on the east side of town.
He knocked lightly on the door and called out, "Uncle Carlos? I have news!"
The door swung open, revealing a middle-aged man with a weathered face.
He had a prominent scar below his left eye, his salt-and-pepper hair was ssily tied back, and his rough hands were covered in calluses. He looked just like a battle-hardened, wandering rcenary.
This was none other than Murphy, disguised as "Carlos" using his [Thousand-Faced Illusion (Initial Glimpse)].
"Co in, Li." Murphy stepped aside to let the boy in, a faint smile on his lips.
For the past six months, he had traveled south from the Black Wood Forest Outpost, then turned back around, arriving in Grey Stone Town a week ago to settle down.
During this ti, Li had beco his most reliable source of information in this unfamiliar town.
Recalling his experiences over the past six months, Murphy couldn’t help but sigh to himself.
To evade a potential pursuit from the Church Court, he had journeyed south, secretly inquiring about ways to obtain the Knight’s Secret dicine.
However, he discovered that this strength-enhancing substance was strictly monopolized by the nobility and simply wasn’t available on the open market.
Although so underground channels might exist, it was nearly impossible for an outsider like him, with no background and no local connections, to acquire the genuine Secret dicine.
What he found even more troubleso was the xenophobic attitude of this world.
In this era of low productivity, the resources in every town were extrely limited.
The land’s yield was barely enough to sustain the local residents; one more mouth to feed ant one less portion of food to go around.
Outsiders not only competed for the limited job opportunities but could also bring unknown diseases and trouble.
Thus, xenophobia had beco a natural law of survival.
This phenonon was hard to avoid even in tis of high productivity, let alone in this age of scarcity.
In comparison, Grey Stone Town was already a relatively friendly place. This was thanks to a decree issued by Viscount Hans to promote the prosperity of the Northern Trade Route, which explicitly forbade the bullying of foreign rchants and travelers.
Just as he was lost in thought, three burly n who looked like local thugs walked over and blocked the doorway.
The leader was a brutish-looking man who grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "Outsider, I hear you’ve been quite generous lately, huh? Isn’t it ti to pay so protection fees?"
Murphy narrowed his eyes, the scar twisting with the expression. "I’m just an ordinary wanderer. What money would I have?"
"Cut the crap!" another thug said, stepping forward to shove him. "This kid runs to your place every day. You must be up to so shady business..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Murphy moved.
His movents were dazzlingly fast. After a few dull thuds, the three thugs were already on the ground, groaning in pain.
Their arms were all twisted at unnatural angles, clearly broken.
Li’s eyes widened. Although he had known Carlos for a week, he had never seen him fight.
Murphy crouched down and whispered in the leader’s ear with a hoarse voice, "Go back and tell your boss that while Carlos may be an outsider, he’s no lamb for the slaughter. The next ti I see you..." He gently patted the thug’s twisted arm, eliciting a scream. "...it won’t be as simple as a few broken bones."
The three thugs scrambled away in a panic.
Li finally snapped back to his senses and stamred, "Uncle Carlos, you... just now..."
In this world, wandering Knight’s Attendants were not uncommon.
So were left holess after their lords were defeated, others were forced into exile for angering the powerful, and so simply traveled far and wide to gain experience.
But for whatever reason, they all possessed martial skills far beyond the reach of ordinary people.
Only now did Li realize that this normally kind and affable uncle was likely one of them.
"Don’t worry," Murphy said, patting the boy’s shoulder, his tone returning to its usual gentleness. "You said you had so news?"
Li took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Y-Yes, I heard so news about the neighboring territories..." He counted on his fingers. "Black Rock Territory is recruiting soldiers, supposedly to deal with bandits. The Countess of Silver Stream Territory passed away from an illness last month, and..."
When the boy ntioned the Duval Baron’s Domain, Murphy’s heart skipped a beat.
"Over in the Duval Baron’s Domain," Li continued, "the people from the Church Court all pulled out three months ago. The domain has been inherited by the new Baron, who is said to be the previous Baron Duval’s eldest son..."
Murphy nodded thoughtfully, then took a few copper plates from his coin purse and handed them to Li. "Good work. This is your paynt."
Li took the copper plates, hesitated for a mont, but couldn’t help asking, "Uncle Carlos, you... were you a Knight’s Attendant before?"
Murphy didn’t answer directly, only smiling. "Rember, you just ca here to deliver a ssage today. Understand?"
The boy nodded, seemingly understanding yet not fully, then pocketed the copper plates and left.
Murphy watched his retreating figure, his gaze growing deep and profound.
His experiences over the past six months had made him understand just how difficult it was for an outsider with no roots to obtain Cultivation resources in this world.
The news about the Duval Baron’s Domain, and the territory’s current situation, represented an opportunity for him.
But, before that...
...
"My lord, spare ! Please, spare my life!" The housing official of Grey Stone Town collapsed to the ground, covering his head with his hands, his voice distorted with fear. "It was my loose tongue, I shouldn’t have ntioned you in the tavern..."
Murphy looked down at the trembling official, his rough right hand resting leisurely on the hilt of his sword.
"I recall giving you specific instructions," Murphy’s voice was low. "Not to reveal my information to anyone."
"It... it was the Black Snake Gang! They forced it out of ! I didn’t dare refuse! They threatened to burn down my house..." The official’s face turned ashen.
A cold sneer crossed Murphy’s lips.
’Such a clumsy lie might fool an ordinary person, but it won’t work on .’
’Forced? It was clearly a matter of splitting the profits.’
’These local snakes are best at selling information about newcors—fat sheep—to the thugs, then sitting back and waiting for their cut.’
’Or rather, they’re the ones truly backing those thugs.’
BAM!
He suddenly lifted his foot and kicked the official in the ribs.
With a faint CRACK, a bone clearly broke.
The official curled up on the ground, groaning in agony.
"The Black Snake Gang forced you?" Murphy leaned down, his voice as cold as ice. "Then how co I heard you were drinking and laughing with their boss in the tavern just yesterday?"
The official’s pupils contracted violently. Now he couldn’t even utter a word of defense.
"This is a lesson for you," Murphy said coldly. "Rember, the dignity of a Knight’s Attendant is not to be trampled upon."
As he turned to leave, he could feel hidden eyes watching him from the surroundings.
This was exactly the effect he wanted. Murphy wasn’t so petty as to hold a grudge against such a minor character.
But he knew very well that in this dog-eat-dog world, a wandering Knight’s Attendant who appeared too ek and submissive would only attract more trouble.
This act was not only a warning to the official colluding with thugs but also a way to uphold the dignity a wandering attendant ought to have.
After all, even a down-and-out Knight’s Attendant was no pushover to be bullied by anyone.
As long as he didn’t go too far, the local Lord and his followers wouldn’t usually interfere in this kind of "power display."
Walking on the road out of Grey Stone Town, Murphy felt the slow progress of his Cultivation.
He had stopped using the Knight’s Secret dicine for five months, and the Floating ridians that should have been widening remained as thin as silk threads.
This feeling of his Cultivation speed being drastically reduced made him feel utterly uncomfortable.
Other territories did have the Secret dicine, but their Lords had real Knights under their command.
The risk of trying to steal from those places was far too great.
A single mistake could cost him his life.
And if he kept succeeding, he would beco a serial thief, eventually attracting attention from all sides and likely becoming a public enemy.
In comparison, the Duval Baron’s Domain was undoubtedly the best choice.
There were no real Knights stationed there.
If there were any, they would be Viscount Hans’ n, and their relationship with Sylvan would certainly be poor.
Moreover, he knew the layout of the castle like the back of his hand.
More importantly, if he played his cards right, he might be able to secure a stable supply of the Secret dicine.
’It’s ti to go back.’
Murphy thought to himself as he gazed at the snowflakes drifting down from the north.
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