Mute Pass

The name "Mute Pass" originated from its unique topographical structure.

Situated in the gap between two low hills, it formed a narrow, winding passage.

Bare rock walls lined both sides of the path, steep and leaning inward, with sparse vegetation above. This caused sound to refract repeatedly off the rock walls, making it difficult to escape.

Therefore, if a merchant caravan were ambushed here, the sounds of shouting, fighting, or calling for help would mostly be confined within this enclosed valley path. It was extremely difficult for sound to reach the open areas outside, as if they had entered a "mute" zone—hence the name.

Although Matthew had never traveled far, he had still heard of Mute Pass, which spoke volumes about its notoriety.

Now, looking at the deep, winding passage before him, Matthew frowned slightly. The terrain here was treacherous, and echoes were muffled—it was the ideal location for bandits to stage an ambush.

Naturally, Matthew did not want to risk taking this path. However, choosing to bypass Mute Pass meant taking a long, roundabout mountain road, which would delay them by a full three days!

He gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist, feeling the steady, warm current circulating within him from the 【White Snake Breathing Technique】, as well as the 【Melting Slash】 and 【Energy Missile】 in his mind.

At the same time, he also felt a trace of anticipation. Would the proficiency of a combat technique like 【Melting Slash】 also increase rapidly in actual combat?

However, an increase in strength brought not only power but also a change in mindset.

Had Matthew not trained so hard up until now precisely to have the confidence to make a choice when facing such a situation, rather than being forced to retreat?

At this thought, the slight caution in Matthew's heart caused by the terrain was quickly replaced by a surge of sharp determination.

He hesitated no longer. His gaze swept over Uncle Delank and Sierra beside him, and he spoke in a low voice, his tone carrying an unquestionable decisiveness:

“Let's go. We'll head straight through.”

Turning to Delank and the teenagers, he instructed, “Keep a tight formation, speed up, and don't stop. Sierra, watch the sides and rear.”

With that, he took a deep breath and took the lead, stepping into the deep, winding passage of Mute Pass.

The sunlight was sliced into narrow bands by the towering, leaning rock walls. The light inside the valley path instantly dimmed, and the air seemed to stagnate. Only the sounds of footsteps and creaking wheels echoed off the rock walls, gradually fading until they merged into an oppressive silence.

...

Meanwhile.

High up on the hills flanking Mute Pass, within the shadow of a naturally formed rocky crevice, several figures lay prone. Their gazes were locked onto Matthew's group as they slowly made their way through the valley path below.

Leading them was a burly man with a hideous scar on his face, respectfully referred to as "Scarface."

Behind him stood four or five of his men, clutching low-quality weapons of varying lengths, waiting tensely and expectantly for their leader's command.

Scarface wore a patched set of leather armor, with a heavy cleaver slung at his waist. However, a hint of hesitation now flickered in his eyes.

He squinted, carefully sizing up the caravan in the valley path. When he saw that the leader was an exceptionally young yet sturdily built youth, his brow furrowed.

The sword hanging at the youth's waist and his calm, steady gaze made Scarface feel a faint sense of unease.

In particular, the woman in the group also seemed slightly familiar to him...

Having been in this business for years, Scarface knew one truth: in the wilderness, those who could lead—especially at such a young age—were either reckless fools or truly capable. He leaned toward the latter. That steady composure and the overall defensive posture of the caravan were not things an ordinary village squad would possess.

“Boss, should we make our move? Two carts, a few skinny donkeys. Looks like decent loot,” one of his men whispered, licking his dry, cracked lips.

Scarface did not answer immediately.

His gang was few in number and limited in strength. They usually plundered poorly guarded small merchant caravans or lone travelers.

Under normal circumstances, they would never have laid claim to such a prime location. But for some reason, the gang that had previously occupied this spot had suddenly vanished without a trace a week ago. Only then did Scarface's crew get the chance to temporarily take over this "treasure trove."

It was precisely because of this precedent that Scarface had learned his lesson.

He suspected that the previous gang's disappearance was by no means an accident. They had likely kicked a steel plate and been silently wiped out by some tough group.

In this desolate wilderness, vanishing without a trace often meant having no chance to even call for help or flee.

Therefore, Scarface had become exceptionally cautious before every operation. He would rather let a target pass than take a risk.

Another shifty-eyed lackey saw his boss remaining silent. His gaze flickered back and forth between Scarface's furrowed brow and the heavily guarded caravan below. Seemingly guessing Scarface's thoughts, he whispered a suggestion:

“Boss, actually... those two carts might look like a lot, but there's barely any cargo on them. The profit is too thin. Why don't we... skip this one and let them pass?”

“And wait for the next one?”

Hearing this, Scarface glanced sideways at him. There was no blame in his eyes; instead, they held a trace of "you understand me well."

He lowered his voice, feigning composure. “Yeah, let them pass. If we're going to strike, we strike big!”

With that, he stopped looking at the caravan below, which was already about to exit the valley path. Leading his men, he silently retreated, their figures quickly vanishing into the shadows of the hills.

Below, Matthew remained highly vigilant. The 【White Snake Breathing Technique】 circulated silently, raising his perception to its limit.

Although he didn't detect any explicit murderous intent or movement, he had been feeling a faint, almost imperceptible sensation of being watched. Then, at a certain moment, that faint sensation suddenly vanished without warning.

Walking through the middle section of the valley path, Matthew's steps faltered almost imperceptibly.

This thought crossed his mind, though he couldn't be absolutely certain.

The group maintained their tight formation and picked up the pace. The wheels rolled over the gravel, and the donkey hooves clopped in the silent valley path, gradually drawing closer to the sunlit exit at the other end.

He glanced back at the deep valley entrance. A trace of doubt flickered in his heart, but he ultimately didn't dwell on it.

“Let's keep moving,” Matthew said to Delank. “Let's try to get into town before dark.”

Matthew wasn't afraid of mountain bandits. Their combat strength was clear. As long as they didn't run into a massive group or fierce outlaws whose strength far exceeded expectations, protecting themselves or even driving them off wouldn't be much of an issue.

But in the wilderness at night, there was no telling what might emerge.

Wheels rolled and hooves clopped as the caravan hurried along the dirt road, leaving the perilous passage of Mute Pass completely behind them.

The outlines of the hills behind them gradually blurred, merging into the vast twilight.