Battle!

Another driver nearby also looked toward the woods, his tone carrying a hint of indifference.

“Maybe there’s some wild beast in the woods. It’s almost dark; the wolves should be coming out.”

“Where would wolves come from in this place?”

“Why don’t you go ask them?”

Their voices were low, as if they were using jokes to alleviate the exhaustion of traveling in the evening.

However, they soon found themselves unable to laugh.

It wasn't just one horse that was uneasy.

Several horses pulling the wagons began to grow restless almost simultaneously, as if they had heard some sound that human ears could not detect.

The ordinary guards also noticed the anomaly.

One guard rested his hand on his sword hilt and looked toward the woods. “Is there movement?”

Another guard raised his crossbow, squinting to observe. “I don’t see anyone.”

“The birds are taking flight.”

“It might be a wild beast.”

They spoke of the possibility of a beast, but their voices were involuntarily lowered.

Years of experience escorting merchant caravans taught them that horses sometimes sensed danger far earlier than humans.

Aidan was currently helping move water skins beside Matthew’s carriage.

His hand had just touched the rope of a water skin when he suddenly felt a chill on the back of his neck.

The feeling was very strange.

It wasn't the wind.

It wasn't the feeling of someone staring at him, either.

It was more like a physical instinct of discomfort.

His skin tightened slightly, and his chest felt a bit heavy.

Aidan snapped his head up and looked toward the woods.

But in the woods, there were only swaying shadows of trees.

The faint evening light fell between the sparse trunks, making the area appear half-lit and half-dark.

There was nothing there.

At least, he couldn't see anything.

The next moment, he heard the soft sound of the carriage curtain being pulled back.

Aidan immediately turned his head.

Matthew was sitting in the carriage, looking at that patch of woods.

His gaze was very calm.

But Aidan had been by Matthew’s side long enough to distinguish certain things from that calmness.

Brother Matthew wasn't just taking a casual look.

He had discovered something unusual.

Aidan immediately put down the water skin, walked quickly to the carriage window, and lowered his voice.

“Brother Matthew, what is it?”

Matthew did not answer immediately.

He continued to stare deep into the woods.

Only after a moment did he speak. “There is an anomaly ahead.”

Aidan’s heart tightened. “Bandits?”

“No,” Matthew replied quickly.

Aidan was startled. If it wasn't bandits, then it was even more troublesome.

He lowered his voice further. “Is it a magical beast?”

Matthew glanced at him.

It was a light glance, but it made Aidan immediately shut his mouth.

Matthew did not want to explain outside.

Aidan understood.

Matthew said flatly, “Go inform the manager and the guards. Stop the caravan, keep the fires low, and do not set up the tents for now. Tell everyone to stay quiet and stay away from the woods.”

Aidan did not ask further. “Yes.”

He turned and walked away quickly.

At almost the same time, the Brass Rank guard also reined in his horse.

He had been checking the perimeter of the camp, and when the second wave of fluctuations came, his palm suddenly pressed against his sword hilt.

He was not a wizard.

He had almost never truly dealt with the affairs of wizards.

To ordinary Class holders, wizards were distant entities.

Most people had heard of wizards and knew they were mysterious, dangerous, and not to be provoked lightly, but they had not necessarily seen a spell being cast.

The Brass Rank guard was stronger than an ordinary person.

Yet, he still couldn't distinguish exactly what that strange feeling was just now.

He only felt that there was danger in the woods.

It wasn't the stench of a wild beast.

It wasn't the bloodlust of bandits.

Nor was it the hot, direct pressure of a Class holder erupting with power.

This thing was colder, sharper, and more subtle.

It was like an invisible, slender snake crawling out from the depths of the woods, lightly coiling around everyone’s skin.

The Brass Rank guard turned his head.

He happened to see that Matthew had already pulled back the carriage curtain and was looking in the same direction.

His gaze shifted slightly.

This Lord Matthew...

He truly was not simple.

Young Master Regg had arranged for him to be in the middle of the caravan, given him a private carriage, and had him personally escort the group; it was certainly not just because of a simple friendship.

The Brass Rank guard did not make any rash guesses.

He rode his horse close to Matthew’s window and whispered, “Lord Matthew, did you also sense it?”

Matthew looked at him.

The fact that the other man sensed the danger was already quite good.

But the guard did not know what it was.

Matthew did not enlighten him. “The woods are not safe.”

“Beasts?” the Brass Rank guard asked.

“No.”

“People?”

Matthew’s tone was calm. “Something more troublesome than ordinary people.”

The Brass Rank guard was silent for a moment.

This sentence wasn't exactly an explanation.

But it was enough.

On the road, the thing one feared most was encountering danger that could not be identified.

Since even this distinguished guest, whom Young Master Regg valued, said so, he could not be careless.

He immediately turned and gave a low-voiced command.

“Everyone, stop!”

“Keep the fires low!”

“Don’t set up the tents!”

“Pull the wagons inward, lead the horses to the inner circle!”

“Outer circle guards, hold your crossbows! No one is allowed near the woods!”

The camp-setting activities that had just begun instantly ceased.

The fires that had already been lit were smothered with wet grass and dirt, leaving only dark red sparks hidden beneath the wood.

The half-unrolled tent fabrics were pinned down again.

The drivers hurriedly led the horses toward the interior, whispering soothing words, but their voices were clearly more tense than before.

The cargo wagons slowly adjusted their positions.

The originally semi-circular camp was tightened.

The guards split into two layers.

The outer layer held bows and crossbows, keeping watch toward the woods.

The inner layer stood by the carriages and cargo.

The caravan manager came walking over quickly with a parchment ledger, his expression somewhat unpleasant.

“What’s going on? We just stopped and now we’re pulling back the wagons? It’s almost dark; if we don’t set up the tents, how will we manage tonight?”

The Brass Rank guard looked at him.

“There is something in the woods.”

The manager frowned. “Beasts? Or bandits?”

The Brass Rank guard paused.

He couldn't explain it himself.

So he only said, “Not something ordinary.”

The manager originally wanted to ask more, but upon hearing those words, his face immediately changed.

Not something ordinary.

On the road, those words were more terrifying than “bandits.”

With bandits, there was at least a count.

Whether they were many or few, on horseback or on foot, wielding swords or crossbows—one could always judge.

But “not ordinary” meant not knowing.

Not knowing what it was.

Not knowing how dangerous it was.

Not knowing if it would target the caravan.

The caravan manager instinctively looked toward Matthew’s carriage.

He did not know that Matthew was a wizard apprentice.

In the entire caravan, aside from Aidan, no one truly knew Matthew’s identity.

They only knew that Lord Matthew was a guest personally recommended by Young Master Regg, who stayed in a private carriage, rarely spoke to anyone, and spent most of the journey inside the carriage.

At first, the manager thought this might be a young noble in poor health or a special guest with ties to the Fiery Lion family.

But now, he suddenly didn't think so.

Because before anyone else had figured out what was happening, Matthew had been the first to look toward the woods.

This kind of reaction did not seem like that of an ordinary noble youth.

The manager’s heart tightened, but he did not press for answers.

The more one worked for noble families, the more one understood that certain things should not be asked.

He turned and urged the drivers in a low voice.

“Do as the Guard Captain says! Move fast, and don't make a sound!”

The noise of the camp quickly subsided.

The atmosphere that had just carried a bit of casual chatter and ease was replaced by an invisible tension.

The evening wind blew over the gentle slope, bowing the grass.

The sky grew another shade darker.

The shadows in the direction of the woods became deeper, and between the tree trunks, it seemed as if a patch of impenetrable black was hidden.

Aidan returned to Matthew’s carriage, his hand already on his sword hilt.

He tried his best to keep his breathing steady, but his heartbeat was still much faster than usual.

“Brother Matthew, the word has been passed down.”

Matthew gave a grunt of acknowledgment.

Aidan couldn't help but ask in a low voice, “Should we retreat further away?”

Matthew looked toward the woods and said flatly, “It’s too late, and there’s no need.”

Aidan did not understand.

Matthew did not explain much, only saying, “Do not move recklessly.”

Aidan immediately shut his mouth.

At a time like this, he would rather ask less.

The Brass Rank guard stood on the side of the caravan closest to the woods, his body leaning slightly forward, his hand always on his sword hilt.

The several guards behind him also looked very serious.

But they did not know what kind of thing they were approaching.

To most people, wizards and spells were too distant.

They knew wizards existed.

They had heard rumors.

But rumors were rumors.

Seeing it with one's own eyes was another matter.

Just as the camp had become almost completely quiet, a low explosion suddenly echoed from deep within the distant woods.

BOOM.

The sound was not sharp, but it felt like a heavy hammer striking the chest.

It wasn't the clashing of swords.

It wasn't the trampling of hooves.

Nor was it the firing of a crossbow.

That sound carried a pressure that vibrated the air, like some invisible force had smashed something in the woods.

Several drivers froze simultaneously.

A young driver dropped a wooden stake from his hand, and it hit the ground with a dull thud. He was startled but did not dare to bend down and pick it up; he only looked toward the woods with a pale face.

The next moment, a burst of dark red firelight erupted from deep within the tree shadows.

That wasn't a torch.

It wasn't a campfire, either.

That ball of fire seemed to have been born out of thin air, carrying a deep crimson hue as it suddenly billowed out between several trees. The trunks were illuminated a bright red, and the edges of the branches and leaves instantly curled and blackened.

Several night birds shrieked and took flight, flapping their wings as they burst out from the tree canopy.

Their shadows flashed across the firelight and quickly disappeared into the dark sky.

The camp fell into a complete silence.

Even the horses seemed frightened by that firelight, briefly stopping their snorting.

A driver’s throat tightened, his voice almost cracking.

“What... what was that?”

No one answered.

Because no one knew how to answer.

Immediately afterward, another blue-white light lit up in the woods.

That light formed a translucent shield shadow, like a crystal wall suspended in the air. But it only lasted for a brief moment before it was struck by a thin black line.

Crack.

The sound was very light.

Yet it was clear enough to make one’s back go cold.

It sounded like glass shattering.

The next moment, a dark green mist began to spread along the ground.

Wherever the mist passed, the grass quickly blackened and curled. But before it could spread too far, it was suppressed by a circle of dark red firelight, emitting a sizzling sound as it was scorched.

The faces of several guards changed.

They had seen dead people.

They had seen bandits.

They had also seen bloody fights between Class holders.

But they had never seen a scene like this.

A younger guard’s lips moved, his voice extremely low.

“Are these... those people from the rumors?”

The older guard beside him glared at him fiercely.

“Shut up.”

But that older guard’s own face was equally pale.

The caravan manager stood by a cargo wagon, the parchment ledger in his hand already squeezed out of shape.

He had heard of wizards.

More than once.

In the rumors of noble banquets, in the stories told by old caravan members, in the exaggerated songs of bards in taverns—the shadows of wizards were everywhere.

Gloomy black robes.

Strange potions.

Invisible curses.

Spells that could create fire out of thin air.

However, hearing about it and seeing it with one’s own eyes were two different things.

When listening to stories, one could still laugh, still drink, and still say exaggeratedly, “Are they really that powerful?”

But when that ball of fire truly exploded in the woods not far away, no one could laugh.

Aidan’s expression was also unpleasant.

He had seen Matthew take action.

He also knew that Matthew was a wizard apprentice.

But he had rarely seen a true confrontation between two wizard apprentices.

Especially watching from such a distance.

He couldn't even see the people clearly; he could only see the fire, the poisonous mist, the shields, the cold light, and those invisible fluctuations that made the horses uneasy.

This was more terrifying than watching a close-quarters sword fight.

At least with swords, one could see clearly.

One could know where the enemy was, where the sword was coming from, and where the blade was going to strike.

But spells were not like that.

Why did that ball of fire appear out of thin air?

Why could that green mist corrode the grass?

How was that blue-white shield shadow formed?

And what was that black line?

Aidan did not know.

Precisely because he did not know, he was even more afraid.

Matthew sat in the carriage, but his gaze remained steady.

He did not look at the drivers’ fear, nor did he look at the caravan manager’s shock.

Those reactions were normal.

To ordinary people, wizards were supposed to be distant and mysterious beings.

They might not truly see a confrontation of spells once in their entire lives.

Fear was the normal reaction.

If they were as calm as if they were watching an ordinary brawl, that would be wrong instead.

Because of this, Matthew was even more certain that hiding his identity was the right choice.

The identity of a wizard apprentice certainly brought awe.

But after awe came attention.

Too much attention would bring trouble.

Before he was strong enough, he didn't need everyone to know what he was.

What he needed was to arrive at the royal capital quietly.

Matthew’s attention returned to the woods.

He couldn't see the faces of the combatants clearly.

The distance was not short, the sky was already dark, and the shadows of the trees and the light of the spells constantly intersected.

But he could see the general situation.

A grey-robed apprentice.

A crimson-robed apprentice.

The grey-robed apprentice was at a disadvantage.

His robes were severely damaged, and he seemed to have been injured in the shoulder; his movements were noticeably sluggish. Every time he moved, he would instinctively protect the left side of his body, indicating that the injury had already affected his movement and spellcasting.

But he was not in a panic.

This point made Matthew take a second look at him.

Being at a disadvantage yet not panicking was rarer than being simply powerful.

The grey-robed apprentice retreated while dropping several small runic stones.

The runic stones did not explode immediately upon hitting the ground; instead, they sank into the soil, their fluctuations suppressed to an extremely low level.

Ordinary people couldn't understand.

Aidan couldn't understand, either.

But Matthew could feel that those runic stones contained compressed mana.

Traps.

The grey-robed apprentice was setting traps as he retreated.

The crimson-robed apprentice, on the other hand, was more composed.

He wore dark red robes, his posture was stable, and sparks of fire would occasionally surface around him. Compared to the disheveled state of the grey-robed apprentice, he clearly held the upper hand.

But he was in no hurry to chase.

Nor did he rashly approach just because the other man was injured.

He raised his hand, and a dark red fire raven flew out from his palm.

The fire raven was not large, its body condensed from flames, leaving behind small sparks as its wings flapped. It flew close to the ground, charging toward the position the grey-robed apprentice had just retreated from.