That's right, that's what adventure is like!

After the afternoon rain, the wilderness was covered in a heavy, grayish-green hue.

The sky hung low, and the clouds, like old cotton wool soaked in water, slowly compressed the jagged outline of the distant, undulating mountains.

After leaving the main road, the road had long since lost its shape, turning into winding strips of mud, with deep puddles reflecting the leaden-gray sky.

puff-

Sticky mud splattered as the horse's hooves landed, settling on Roland's calves and the belly of his mount, where it quickly solidified into a mottled mud crust under the influence of the cold air.

Heaving heavy breathing around his ears, Roland felt the friction between his crotch and the saddle, and finally couldn't help but tighten the reins: "Slow down, I need to get used to the feeling."

Yogurt slowed the horse's pace, reached out and fed it a couple of mouthfuls of hay, which was exhaling white mist. He then looked at his companion ahead with a strange expression: "You can't ride a horse?"

Roland nodded, his expression slightly unpleasant.

He underestimated the difficulty of horseback riding, thinking that since his predecessor had ridden horses a few times, he should be able to get the hang of it quickly.

But the truth is, this still requires some skill; otherwise, you're not riding a horse, but being carried by it.

If it weren't for the increase in his strength and agility over the past few days, he probably would have already fallen off his horse and come into close contact with the mud on the ground.

Yogurt seemed quite experienced in this regard, immediately offering some tips before turning her attention to the tire tracks on the ground.

"It's getting clearer and clearer. It seems we're not far behind. There's no need to rush. Just make sure we don't lose them."

Roland agreed with this assessment.

According to the information worth 5 silver coins from the guard at the gate, Lady Ballow left by carriage, heading towards that nameless canyon.

Since it was a horse-drawn carriage, it couldn't possibly be faster than simply riding a horse, and judging from the tracks on the road, the carriage must have been carrying quite a lot of goods.

but……

As Yogurt's amber eyes swept across the muddy path, her pupils contracted slightly, as if she had discovered some details that weren't there before.

"Not just the carriage," his voice drifted away on the wind, mingling with the breaths of the two horses, "there are at least three mounted guards, and they are quite strong."

?

Seeing Roland's slight doubt, he pointed to the marks on the ground and explained, "Look—most of these marks are on the hard ground by the roadside, which shows that they were very careful to avoid leaving too many marks on the soil."

"Moreover, the shape of this kind of mark is very special. I once saw it in a shop. Not only does it make a quieter sound when it hits the ground, but the mark is also shallower."

Roland looked down and examined it carefully, and found that it was indeed the case. It seemed that Yogurt had indeed honed her skills considerably while following that ranger.

But this only added to his doubts.

Why did she leave in such a hurry, and why was she accompanied by such professional guards? What secret does this Ms. Barlow have?

Forcing his attention away from the discomfort of riding on horseback, Roland turned his gaze forward.

The road enters a relatively open hilly area here, with a gentle slope covered with shrubs on the left and a forest that remains lush and green even in winter on the right.

This kind of place is perfect for an ambush.

Roland gestured for Yogurt to slow down, wary of the possibility of Ms. Barlow suddenly crouching down, and proceeded cautiously.

About half a mile later, the wind brought a fresh scent, including the earthy smell after the rain and a faint smell of blood.

Yogurt's ears perked up, and he quickly raised his fist, stopping the horse in place and making it pace restlessly.

"Something's up," he said in a low voice, trying to use his racial instincts to sense what was happening. "The blood smells fresh, there are quite a few people, and it's rather lively."

Even without Yogurt's reminder, Roland noticed that the coin inside the lining of his chest was radiating heat, making the traces of the battle clearly visible.

The vegetation was collapsed, hoofprints were scattered, and there were arrow remnants in the distance... It looked like a chase.

The two dismounted, carefully tied the reins to sturdy trees nearby, then left the road and, using the undulating terrain and bushes for cover, stealthily made their way forward.

After rounding a small hill, the view of the valley ahead, just around the bend, suddenly came into view.

There was no fierce battle as I had imagined; instead, it was a near-one-sided massacre.

A lavishly decorated carriage was parked by the roadside, the two horses pulling it snorting leisurely, their hooves already soaked in blood.

Around the carriage lay a dozen or so corpses dressed as bandits, each one disemboweled, their internal organs and severed limbs mixed with mud, turning into an indigestible "meat paste".

The cause of this tragic scene was three adventurers dressed in identical black and gray leather armor, exuding a powerful aura.

One of the burly men, with a shaved head and crosshairs on his face, was slowly pulling a huge battle axe from the last bandit's corpse, spraying a mouthful of blood.

He casually swung the axe, grinning with a mouthful of yellow teeth, and shouted into the carriage, "Ms. Barlow, the road is clean now, why don't you get down and take a look?!"

Beside him was a man with a sinister face and the appearance of a wanderer, squatting next to a corpse, his fingers flying across the ground searching for valuables with practiced ease.

The last person was a half-elf holding a longbow, who was standing on a slightly higher slope, surveying his surroundings with a cold gaze.

Roland hid behind a thick tree, avoiding the half-elf's gaze, and began to silently plot.

These people were well-equipped, ruthless, and coordinated perfectly, clearly not an ordinary adventurer team. Moreover, judging from their relaxed attitude after the massacre, their personalities were far from benevolent.

This reminded him of the description given by the red-haired waiter earlier, the "Silver Fly" squad that had just arrived in Broken Rock Town and was known for stealing other people's missions.

Their appearance, numbers, and style all fit their characteristics perfectly.

"...You've worked hard. Can we continue our journey now?"

A corner of the carriage was lifted, revealing the face of a well-maintained, slightly somber middle-aged woman—Ms. Barlow, as the records indicated.

"Of course, madam."

The bald, burly man laughed heartily, his gaze sweeping over the corpses scattered on the ground with lingering satisfaction before drifting towards the direction where Roland was hiding: "However, there seem to be some beasts in the woods. Shall we catch a couple for you to enjoy?"

Roland, standing behind the tree, felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively gripped the longsword at his waist.

Yogurt's body tensed as well, his throat bobbing slightly—a primal reaction of a half-orc when threatened.

At this crucial moment, Ms. Barlow's words broke the ice: "Enough, we've already wasted too much time. Don't forget your mission—I must be delivered before dawn!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

The bald, burly man grinned and replied, his fleshy face twitching as if his previous words were just a joke. He beckoned his teammates to gather around, then skillfully mounted his horse and stood guard on both sides of the carriage.

The coachman, who had been huddled in the driver's seat, hurriedly cracked his whip. The two horses neighed, rolled over the bloodstains in the mud that had not yet fully congealed, and got back on the road, speeding away northward.

Only after they had completely disappeared at the end of the road did Roland slowly exhale, his grip on the sword hilt loosening slightly.

Yogurt relaxed her tense body, her face revealing an undisguised coldness: "They know we're watching. That was a show of force and a warning."

Roland nodded: "Ms. Barlow is in a hurry. It seems that the place she is going to is very important. This place has already deviated slightly from the road leading to the valley."

"Chase?" Yogurt asked succinctly.

"Of course, but please wait a moment."

Roland's eyes lit up as he scanned the ravaged battlefield. He slowly walked up the earthen mound where the half-elf had been and picked up an object from the ground.

"It seems there's a real silverfly in this group."