Greg: “...”
Calm down... Calm down... I won't stoop to this gray-haired brat's level.
Ignoring Victoria's sarcasm, he proceeded to take Alice's and Yelena's suitcases.
Greg was beginning to feel the ache creeping into his arms.
Just as he managed to stabilize his center of gravity, a strong wave of alcohol fumes suddenly hit him from behind.
Immediately after, a soft body draped itself unceremoniously over his back. Two arms wrapped around his neck, locking together across his chest as she clung to him like a koala.
“Since that's the case... hic~ I'll leave myself in your hands too, Greg.”
The drunken Headmistress Olivia lay slumped against his back, her voice slurred yet cheerful, thick with intoxication.
Her limp body hung heavily off him, showing absolutely no intention of letting go.
“...”
Greg's polite smile was finally on the verge of cracking.
He stood frozen in place, draped in suitcases of all shapes and sizes, with a drunken Headmistress piggybacking on top of it all. He looked less like a gentleman and more like a pack mule on the verge of collapse.
He could feel the surrounding stares shifting from admiration to genuine pity.
His mouth twitched slightly as he screamed inwardly:
I wanted to project an aura of gentlemanly elegance, not look like an overworked mule!
Though the situation was far from what Greg had envisioned, he had no choice but to grin and bear it. After all, he had dug this grave himself.
Clutched in his hands was a mountain of luggage, and draped over his back was a heavily inebriated Headmistress. He looked like a roadside tree heavily laden with overripe fruit.
Gazing melancholy at the distant sky, Greg let out a deep sigh and muttered to himself:
“Sigh, I wonder how Allie and the others are doing. I just hope they don't cause some massive scene before they even reach the Imperial Capital.”
...
Meanwhile, along a secluded mountain path on the border of the Empire, the sounds of battle echoed.
Clashing metal, pained shrieks, and the dull thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground intertwined, reverberating through the empty valley.
Moments later, the commotion died down.
Over a dozen well-equipped bandits lay strewn across the path, black-eyed and bruised, their weapons scattered all over the ground. Not a shred of their usual pillaging swagger remained.
Just ahead of them, a burly, scarred bandit leader lay flat on his back with his eyes rolled into his head, completely unconscious.
Allie stood beside the bandit leader, her longsword gleaming with a cold light.
She furrowed her brows, clearly unsatisfied with the quality of her opponents. She raised her sword, preparing to finish off the rest of the bandits—
“Lady Allie, please wait!” Wendy rushed forward, stretching out her arm to stop her.
Allie turned around, her gaze questioning. “What is it?”
Wendy glanced at the shivering bandits and explained in a lowered voice:
“They are the largest bandit group in this area. If they all die suddenly, it will definitely attract the attention of the Empire. The border garrison will send scouts to investigate, and they might follow the clues straight to our location. It's better not to kill them.”
Upon hearing this, a spark of hope flared in the bandits' desperate eyes. They looked up at Wendy with immense gratitude, as if a merciful goddess had descended to save them.
Ignoring their gazes, Wendy continued:
“The Bishop only sent the two of us to the Empire, likely wanting us to avoid causing any major scenes before the plan begins. That's why I think it's best we keep a low profile for now.”
Allie gave an unconscious bandit at her feet a disdainful kick, her tone dripping with contempt.
“The strongest bandit group in this region is only at this level? They weren't even enough to serve as a warm-up.”
“Well, not everyone is as exceptionally gifted as you are.”
Wendy chimed in, her tone perfectly laced with a hint of flattery.
This passing compliment clearly pleased Allie.
She tilted her chin up slightly and sheathed her longsword, her tone softening a bit:
“So what do we do now? If we do nothing, won't we get exposed anyway?”
Wendy smiled gently and pulled a small paper packet from her bosom, which contained some grayish-white powder:
“You don't need to worry about that. We just need them to mix this powder with water and drink it all. It's a neurotoxin derived from a native mushroom of the Empire. Once ingested, it turns them into drooling idiots. This way, we can frame it as food poisoning they brought upon themselves, clearing us of suspicion, while also ensuring they can never commit crimes again.”
Her tone was calm and matter-of-fact. She felt no moral qualms about dealing with these wicked bandits; if anything, letting them live was already a massive act of mercy.
As for the bandits who had just thought they were looking at their savior, their expressions were now worse than if they were crying.
They finally realized that this seemingly gentle and friendly goddess was the true demon.
One of them tried to beg for mercy, but Allie merely gave them a frigid glare, her hand resting lightly on her hilt. The pleas were instantly swallowed back down.
Wendy produced a waterskin, poured the powder inside, and shook it thoroughly.
She walked over to the unconscious bandit leader first, prying his jaw open to pour a few gulps down his throat. Then, she stood up and handed the waterskin to the other bandits, gesturing for them to drink it themselves.
The bandits exchanged glances. Under Allie's icy gaze, however, they chose survival, obediently taking the waterskin and passing it around until every single one of them had swallowed the poisoned water.
Before long, their eyes began to glaze over. In a daze, incoherent murmurs spilled from their lips. Some began to giggle foolishly, others spun in circles, and some even started talking to the empty air.
The once-fearsome bandit gang had been completely reduced to a flock of brainless fools.
After confirming that none of them were faking, Wendy turned back to Allie, her tone returning to its usual gentle and respectful manner:
“Lady Allie, we can continue our journey now.”
Allie nodded. Without lingering any further, the two continued down the mountain path toward the Empire.
As the surrounding scenery gradually grew familiar, the rolling hills, winding rivers, and distant, faint wisps of smoke from village chimneys stirred a complex mix of emotions in Wendy's heart.
She had thought she would never set foot on this land again, but reality seldom went as planned. Ultimately, she had returned.
Gazing toward the capital of the Empire, her eyes carried a trace of unspeakable melancholy.
I wonder how Father is doing now that I'm gone.
Just as she was lost in her nostalgia, Allie, who was walking ahead, suddenly stopped and looked toward the adjacent forest.
Wendy asked in confusion, “Lady Allie, is something wrong?”
Allie lightly patted her sheathed sword, her fingers itching for action. “There seems to be a knights' camp over there. And I can sense a pretty decent opponent inside.”
She had been far too long since she had fought to her heart's content. She planned to take full advantage of this trip to the Empire to satisfy her cravings and beat up anyone worth fighting!
Wendy reminded her, “Lady Allie, please do not forget our primary objective.”
“It's fine, it won't take long.”
“But this will also increase our risk of exposure.”
“Then we'll just give them collective food poisoning too! Besides, hiding in a place like this, they definitely aren't up to any good anyway!”
“???”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest further, but it was already too late.
With a sudden kick of dust, Allie's figure vanished from the spot.
“...”
Wendy stared up at the sky with hollow eyes.
“I'm sorry, Bishop... We will probably be exposed very soon.”
Rate on N.U.
