【Sudden Adventure Quest: Why Are You Always Chasing Me?】
【Shake off the annoying pursuer. Reward: Trait - Firm Grip or Trait - Tireless Marcher】
The quest prompt popped up before Rosie's eyes.
Before she even had a chance to complain about what kind of ridiculous quest this was, two familiar voices drifted into her ears, one after the other.
“Quick, go check if the person we're looking for is in there.”
“Got it, Boss!”
Hawk's voice.
And that lackey of his, Quick.
Rosie's hand moved faster than her mind, already resting on the hilt of the short sword at her waist.
Instead of standing up, she crouched like a cat and glided toward the side of the carriage cabin.
Her movements were so quiet they barely made a sound.
The other passengers in the carriage were still panicking and clamoring amongst themselves, so no one noticed she had already moved right next to the canvas curtain.
Just then, a rough, large hand pulled the curtain open from the outside.
Morning light flooded in all at once, illuminating the cabin.
Just as Quick was about to stick his head in, his expression froze.
Because he saw a short sword.
The tip of the blade was pressed right against his throat. He could feel the fine hairs on his neck standing on end from the cold steel.
The person holding the sword was crouching in the shadows by the curtain, a pair of eyes staring coldly at him from beneath the brim of a leather helmet.
“Drop your weapon.”
Rosie's voice was very quiet, so quiet that those outside the carriage couldn't hear it at all; only Quick could receive the command.
Quick's Adam's apple bobbed.
His other hand was indeed gripping a one-handed sword, the blade hanging outside the curtain, before he even had a chance to raise it.
“M-Miss, don't do anything rash. I'm just...” Quick tried to de-escalate.
“I won't say it twice,” a cold voice interrupted him, and the tip of the sword nudged slightly upward.
Quick loosened his fingers, and his one-handed sword fell to the ground with a clatter.
“Slowly turn around, or don't blame me if my hand slips,” Rosie added.
Quick had no choice but to comply.
Only then did the other passengers see what was happening, and sharp gasps echoed through the cabin one after another.
“Quick? What's going on?”
The sound of horse hooves approached from the front.
Riding at the head of the group, Hawk arrived just in time to see Quick standing with his back to the carriage, a short sword pressed against the back of his neck.
The expression on his scarred face shifted from confusion to a sneer in less than a second.
“Quick, you really disappoint me.”
“I'm sorry, Boss.”
Quick lowered his head, and as the blade on his neck pressed down slightly with the movement, he quickly tilted his head back up.
Hawk's gaze bypassed Quick and landed on the figure in the shadow of the curtain, whose face was only half-visible.
“I figured you'd run south, and look at that—I caught you.”
He spoke with a faint smile, but it was a smile that made one's skin crawl.
“I let you off once, and you have the audacity to kill my men?!”
Rosie's voice drifted out from behind the curtain. “You can't blame me for that. They brought it on themselves.”
“Arrogant brat! It's time to pay back everything you owe me!”
Hawk bellowed, his right hand already gripping the handle of his hand axe.
The surrounding riders also drew their weapons one after another.
“Don't move! Or I'll kill him!”
Rosie applied a bit of pressure with her wrist, and blood immediately seeped out, trickling down Quick's neck and into his collar.
Feeling the sharp sting and warmth on his neck, Quick's legs nearly gave out.
He knew Rosie wasn't joking; this girl had just stabbed two men to death last night.
“Boss, Boss, save me!” His voice cracked in a shrill shriek.
Hawk looked down at him, his expression a mix of anger and disgust.
“Hmph, useless trash. You've completely embarrassed me.”
The air fell silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
“Go ahead and kill him. Then I will kill everyone here, including you.”
He said it casually, but to the other passengers in the carriage, it felt like a bucket of ice water poured over their heads.
“No, don't kill us! We don't know anything, we're just passengers!”
“Please, sirs, I'm just on my way to visit my son...”
“Young lady, don't do anything rash! If you slash him, we'll all die with him!”
“This is a public carriage! We paid our taxes, and we are under the protection of His Majesty!”
The carriage cabin turned into absolute chaos.
Begging, crying, and desperate demands blent together in a noisy din.
Rosie's fingers tightened on her hilt.
“Quiet! He's just bluffing. There are so many people here, he wouldn't dare,” she said coldly.
“Why wouldn't I dare? It's just a casino. At worst, I'll just abandon it!”
Hawk sneered, then changed his tune. “As long as you get down, I'll let them leave. After all, they haven't offended me.”
Upon hearing this, the carriage fell silent for a moment.
Then, voices rose again.
“Miss, please get off the carriage.”
“Get down quickly, or else...”
Under the threat to their lives, the passengers in the carriage could no longer sit still. Some began to quietly shuffle toward the exit.
Rosie quickly scanned the surroundings outside the carriage.
On both sides of the road was an undulating wilderness, overgrown with withered yellow bushes that reached up to a person's waist.
Further away, about a hundred meters out, the terrain sloped upward, leading into a dense forest on the hillside.
Then, she made her decision.
“Fine, I'll get off. Let them go.”
She spoke with firm, righteous resolve.
Since the carriage couldn't leave anyway unless she got off, she might as well just do it.
This would prevent the passengers from turning on her out of desperation, which would only make things harder if she ended up attacked from both sides.
As long as she showed she didn't want to drag them into this, they would have no reason to turn on her.
After all, she was still holding a weapon.
Sure enough, Rosie's words worked. The passengers quieted down, and those who had been shuffling about stopped moving.
Keeping her sword pressed against Quick's neck, she quickly hooked her backpack and shield with one foot. She freed her left hand to swing the pack onto her back, then gripped the handle of her round wooden shield.
Then, keeping Quick in her hold, she stepped onto the carriage shaft and leaped down to the ground.
“Alright, now it's just between you and me. You can let them go now! Or do you really want to slaughter them all?”
She stood beside the carriage, her gaze cold and hard beneath her leather helmet.
Hawk's gaze lingered on her face for a moment, then swept over the passengers in the carriage.
“Get lost!”
In truth, just as Rosie had suspected, he didn't actually dare to kill so many people.
This place wasn't far from the Royal City. If things got out of hand, it would be difficult to cover up. Moreover, he couldn't actually abandon his business. While the casino itself was small, connections with influential figures were hard to come by, and he had worked very hard to latch onto a noble patron.
However, Hawk had correctly anticipated the mindset of these commoners. Knowing they wouldn't dare to resist, he had acted with complete impunity.
He had originally expected the passengers to turn on her and seize the girl from within, never anticipating she would jump out of the carriage of her own accord.
Hearing Hawk's words, the driver felt as if he had been granted a divine pardon. He cracked his whip hard against the draft horse's rump.
The horse whinnied in pain and bolted forward with all its might.
The wooden wheels of the carriage ran over a rock, sending the entire vehicle bouncing. The passengers inside were tossed every which way, but not a single person complained—as long as the carriage was moving, nothing else mattered.
The carriage quickly sped away into the distance.
Rosie didn't look back.
All her attention was focused on the dozen or so men in front of her.
While they had been scattered when surrounding the carriage, now that it was gone, they closed in around her.
Including Hawk, there were eighteen men, all of them mounted.
The riders didn't look like ordinary street thugs either; they held their weapons with steady hands, and their eyes held a grim, murderous edge.
But there was one saving grace: they didn't have any bows or crossbows.
“Release Quick now, and I promise I won't kill you.”
Hawk nudged his horse forward a couple of steps, his tone slightly softer than before.
Rosie kept her grip on Quick, taking slow steps toward the side of the road.
As she backed away, she asked, “You won't kill me? Then what do you want?”
“You killed my men. It's only right that you pay the price,” Hawk said.
His horse matched her pace, walking forward unhurriedly and keeping a distance from which he could charge at any second.
“What price?” Rosie asked.
Hawk smiled.
The smile was filled with calculation, contempt, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.
“Everything you have, of course.”
Her life, her body, her freedom, and every single drop of value that could be wrung out of her in the future.
Rosie stopped in her tracks.
She looked up. Although the shadow of her helmet obscured her eyes, Hawk could clearly see the curl of her lips.
“In that case, there's nothing left to talk about.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she abruptly withdrew the short sword from Quick's neck.
Feeling the pressure on his neck vanish, Quick instinctively lunged forward, desperate to escape the terrifying girl behind him.
But the sword's path didn't stop with the withdrawal.
The tip of the blade swept past his buttocks, slicing through his trousers and carving a long gash across his rear.
“Aaaagh!”
Quick's scream shattered the silence of the wilderness.
Rosie kicked out.
She put all her strength into the kick.
Quick, a man weighing well over a hundred and fifty pounds, was sent flying forward by her kick, stumbling blindly and crashing straight into the head of Hawk's horse.
Using the recoil of the kick, Rosie shot backward like a stone launched from a slingshot, sprinting in the opposite direction.
Every stride she took was powerful and firm, kicking up a small cloud of dust and shredded grass behind her heels.
Hawk steadied his horse. Watching Rosie's retreating figure dash into the bushes, he let out a laugh of pure disbelief.
Trying to outrun four legs on two in the open wilderness?
This girl had to be out of her mind.
“Get her! I want her alive!”
At his command, the surrounding riders dug their heels into their horses' flanks.
Hooves dug into the dirt, sending mud and grass flying as more than a dozen horses charged forward, flanking her from both sides of the road.
Hawk looked down at Quick, who was rolling on the ground clutching his backside and grimacing in pain. His gaze turned icy.
“If it weren't for the fact that you've been with me since the beginning, I'd slaughter you right here.”
He pulled a small cloth pouch from his shirt and tossed it onto Quick's chest.
“Apply the medicine yourself.”
With that, he shook his reins and spurred his horse to give chase.
The remaining few riders also spurred their mounts to follow.
Lying on the ground, the cold wind blowing against the wound on his rear made Quick grimace in agony.
Trembling, he opened the powder pouch and awkwardly patted the medicine onto his backside, looking like a clumsy circus clown.
As he applied the powder, he cursed inwardly: What terrible luck. Every time I run into that girl, nothing good ever happens.
On the other side.
Rosie was weaving frantically through the thickets.
Withered branches reached out from all directions, whipping against her shins and arms.
Some of the branches bore hard, dry thorns, scratching against her linen gambeson with a harsh, tearing sound.
Holding the round wooden shield in her left hand before her, she used it to deflect the oncoming branches and the sharpest thorn tips.
The thundering hooves behind her pursued relentlessly, sometimes close enough that she could hear the heavy breathing of the horses, and sometimes falling slightly behind when blocked by the dense bushes.
It was common sense that two legs couldn't outrun four.
But common sense only applied to flat-ground racing.
In these waist-high thickets, horses couldn't run much faster than a human.
The horses had to avoid the thickest brush and watch out for hidden rocks and holes concealed beneath the dead grass.
Since neither horse nor rider wanted to take a tumble, they couldn't build up any real speed.
Thus, although she couldn't widen the gap, they couldn't catch up to her either.
But the riders weren't expending their own stamina; they only had to guide their mounts to follow Rosie.
Rosie, on the other hand, had much more to worry about.
The leather cuirass pressed against her chest, making every breath require extra effort.
Dry thorns occasionally slipped into her sleeves, stinging her and causing a prickle of panic.
Fortunately, the terrain finally began to slope upward.
The bushes began to thin out, replaced by trees that grew progressively thicker.
The dense forest was finally here.
Rosie stopped and took a deep breath of the cold air.
Turning back toward the uphill-climbing Hawk and his men, she gave them a thumbs-down, then dragged her thumb across her throat.
With that, she plunged headfirst into the dense forest.
It was much darker inside the forest than out in the open.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the canopy, casting dappled spots of light on the ground. The air smelled of sweet decay and bitter moss.
The environment was far more complex, but that was all the more advantageous for Rosie.
Dodging and weaving between the trees, her figure quickly vanished into the forest.
Hawk pulled his reins and squinted at the dim, dense forest.
From the moment she leaped out of the carriage until now, this girl had calculated every single step.
Too bad she had fled to the wrong place.
“Boss Hawk, that girl was just mocking us. Do we pursue?”
One of the riders asked. His horse pawed at the edge of the forest, snorting uneasily.
“Pursue? Into the forest? That's magical beast territory.”
Hawk gripped the reins tighter in his palm, his tone measured and unhurried.
“We wait outside first. We'll leave once night falls.”
“Won't it be too late by nightfall?” the rider pointed out.
“If we leave early, what if she slips back out?” Hawk retorted.
“I paid you to work, not to teach me how to do my job.”
“Fine, your call.”
The riders dispersed in groups of twos and threes.
The horses' hooves stepped on the fallen leaves, making a dull, rustling sound.
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