Chapter 1: ... <TOC> Chapter 3 Ambush and Conspiracy
Translator: SumTLMan
Raising his gaze once more to his companions, Lance’s memories as Lin Bei revealed their identities: personal guards procured by his teacher. Their mission? To escort him safely to his dominion.
This circumstance eerily matched the opening scenario of the game, where the Lord starts with two aides. This striking coincidence made Lance feel as though invisible hands of destiny were manipulating events behind the scenes.
One clad in the knight’s armor was Reynard the Crusader; the other, garbed in a long coat, was Dismas the Highwayman.
Their backstories within the game were murky at best. All that was clear was their history as ruthless killers. However, both had veered towards a path of self-redemption, transitioning from predators to protectors.
Reality, unlike the game where a mere mouse click ensured unwavering loyalty, wasn’t as straightforward. Retaining the allegiance of these two men was key to Lance’s strategic outlook, given that his territory was far from peaceful and they were the only viable cards in his hand.
Just as Lance was mulling over these facts, an explosive sound disrupted his thoughts, its origin unknown.
“A gunshot!” Dismas, who had been napping with closed eyes, suddenly awoke, his eyes reflecting a sharp and ready intent.
On the other side, Reynard grasped his longsword. Despite remaining seated, he emanated a palpable aura of impending onslaught.
“Bandits!” The steward up front cried out, furiously cracking his whip in an attempt to spur the horses to a faster pace and distance themselves from the marauders.
Startled, the horses galloped madly, the carriage accelerating rapidly amidst their terrified neighing. The bouncing reached a level unbearable for an ordinary person. Lance felt as if his brain were being thoroughly shaken in his skull.
However, on such a worn-out road, such high speed was not advantageous.
Before he could react, the carriage jerked as though it had hit something. The whole carriage seemed suspended in the air. The intense jolting halted for an instant, but the next second, it crashed down with a tremendous thud and began to roll to one side.
The two men seated opposite Lance managed to grab hold of the seats, stabilizing themselves with minimal disturbance.
In contrast, Lance was thrown around uncontrollably, much like someone without a seatbelt, brutally crashing into the carriage’s interior. By the time they pulled him out of the wreck, he was just shaking off his dizziness.
“Are you all right?”
Reynard’s voice resonated from within his helmet— a deep, masculine tone, further muffled by the helm.
“I’m fine.”
Neglecting all else, Lance promptly rose to his feet to survey the immediate situation.
The calamity he had been dreading had indeed befallen them. The carriage, moving at a reckless pace, was sent airborne by the smallest of rocks or bumps, and upon its brutal descent, the axles shattered, sending the carriage into a tumultuous roll. This scattered its contents—belongings of the original owner, which comprised mostly of clothing and books—all over the ground.
As for the butler and the horses pulling the carriage, they had long since vanished, likely the butler absconded on horseback.
An accident on the well-trodden path prompted Lance’s suppressed memories of death to assail him.
“The bandits will arrive shortly. We must make haste and leave this place,” Dismas declared, drawing his flintlock pistol and loading it. His eyes, alert and vigilant, scanned the surroundings, on guard for any potential bandits.
“It seems we have quite a distance to cover before reaching the town,” Reynard observed, looking towards the horizon, where the ancient road was shrouded by gloomy trees, obscuring any far-off sights.
“To survive, we can’t run.”
Lance interjected, interrupting the two men discussing their escape. However, his words seemed somewhat counter-intuitive.
“What do you mean?” Dismas questioned, giving him a dubious look, his distrust clearly evident.
While Reynard remained silent, the gaze hidden behind his helmet was tinged with skepticism.
Their attitudes had notably shifted, yet without a plausible explanation, no one would indulge Lance’s seeming madness.
However, Lance didn’t appear to be perturbed. If this wasn’t a mere accident, then he already had an inkling of the upcoming events.
“At present, we’re without a carriage and unfamiliar with the terrain. Do you truly believe we can evade the bandits on foot? If we’re pursued, the physical and mental toll will be tremendous, making any combat even more challenging.
Hence, combat is inevitable. If we wish to survive, we must seize the initiative.”
“Are you suggesting we should proactively attack the bandits? There are just three of us.”
Dismas’ statement was rather considerate. In truth, they all understood that the real fighting power was down to two, and they would need to protect their frail employer, Lance.
“No…” Lance slowly shook his head, “A major raid wouldn’t involve only one gunshot. I suspect these are small groups of four or five men, who rob along the way. As long as our tactics are sound, this is not an insurmountable task.”
Having said this, Lance turned to face Dismas.
“How proficient are you with a firearm?”
“I never miss.” Dismas answered without hesitation, exuding self-assurance in his marksmanship.
“I trust you.” Lance responded with a nod and a smile, proceeding to raise his hand to motion towards their surroundings, delineating the strategy.
“The tactics are simple. The woods on both sides will provide us with natural cover for an ambush. We lie in wait for the bandits, while these goods lure them into halting their march. When the time comes, I need you to take out the bandit’s musketeer first, then proceed to reload and eliminate the next most imminent threat. Maximize the advantage that our surprise attack offers and refrain from prematurely revealing our position.”
He then turned to Reynard to delegate his part in the plan.
“As soon as your gun fires, I will create a diversion on the other side to draw their attention. This is both to buy you time to reload and to lure the bandits into our trap. Given that your armor makes you conspicuous and hampers mobility, I need you to hide in the bushes. When they are drawn towards me, you spring out and inflict as much damage as you can.”
Dismas had initially thought that Lance’s strategy was to have him distract the enemy, while the knight stayed behind to protect him, much like the employers he had encountered in the past.
However, much to his surprise, this man had willingly taken upon himself the role of the bait, willingly placing himself in a perilous situation and entrusting their safety to both of them.
This long-forgotten trust felt alien yet invigorating to him, a sensation that set his blood pumping, one he couldn’t recall the last time he had experienced.
Meanwhile, Lance remained unaware of Dismas’s internal turmoil and was awaiting Reynard’s response.
“No problem, the holy light guides me.” Raising his long sword, Reynard’s actions spoke volumes about his determination and willingness to undertake this dangerous task.
Only upon hearing this did Lance finally exhale a breath of relief. If the bandits were without a musketeer, they would have to get past Reynard to reach him. Therefore, the only one truly confronting the bandits head-on in this strategy was Reynard. Despite appearing perilous, his own position bore minimal risk.
In less than two minutes since the cart had overturned, Lance managed to regain control of the situation. The three of them then each concealed themselves amidst the dense woods lining either side of the road, poised for the arrival of the bandits.