I'm really not a Sanctuary Warlock.

It is located on a roadside about five kilometers from the south gate of the city of Sacred Song.

Lynn sat quietly on a branch of a large tree, letting the wind and snow fall on him.

Before long, a carriage slowly appeared in the white light.

Chapter 168 Coma

"Damn it, this weather is freezing!" Mercenary Mark's voice rang out as he stamped his feet and rubbed his hands, which were red from the cold. "Why haven't the backup arrived yet? I can't wait to take the money to the Moulin Rouge and find a hot chili pepper to warm me up."

"With your attitude?" another mercenary, George, sneered. "Which girl in the Moulin Rouge doesn't look down on everyone? They'd be doing you a favor by letting you touch their hand."

"Bullshit!" Mark retorted indignantly. "As long as the money's right, what kind of woman can't I have? Once I get the money this time, I'll book their top courtesans for three days and three nights!"

"Haha, you're just bragging." The third mercenary, Luke, also laughed. He pulled out a small wine pouch from his pocket, tilted his head back, and took a swig. "Don't let the money slip through your fingers before you've even had a chance to enjoy it and then lose it all at the gambling table."

The laughter of the group carried for a short distance through the wind and snow, but was quickly swallowed up.

Two heavy carriages struggled through knee-deep snow, the horses pulling them panting heavily, each step an extraordinary effort.

Just then, from another direction, near the south gate of Holy Song City, a magical lantern emitting a soft glow lit up in the wind and snow.

A figure is walking towards this side.

The man was wearing an exquisite white fox fur coat and expensive waterproof leather boots, which made him stand out from his surroundings.

Even from a distance, one could sense the aristocratic air emanating from that person.

"Young Master Philip, you've arrived." Mercenary leader Mark immediately put on a fawning expression and went to greet him.

The young nobleman, Philip, frowned and covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, seemingly disgusted by the air.

"Why are you so slow?" His voice was sharp and sarcastic. "Have you lowly commoners broken your legs, making me wait in this godforsaken place for so long?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Philip, the snow is too heavy and the roads are difficult to travel," Mark quickly explained.

"Hmph, a piece of trash is a piece of trash, always making so many excuses." Philip waved his hand impatiently. "Where are the things? Did you bring them all?"

“I brought them, I brought them, two carriages in total.” Mark pointed to the carriages behind him.

Philip then turned his attention to the two carriages. He stepped forward, lifted a corner of the curtain to look inside, and nodded in satisfaction after confirming that they were full of grain.

“Very good.” He lowered the carriage curtain, took out a money pouch from his pocket, and casually threw it on the snow. “This is your payment. Take the money and get out of here. Don’t get in the way.”

Mark's eyes lit up when he saw the money bag, and he quickly bent down to pick it up.

George and Luke also grinned greedily and moved closer to the money bag.

In their eyes, it was as if they could already see gold coins, fine wine, and women.

Lynn's eyes had turned extremely cold.

He felt there was no need to wait any longer.

He didn't even bother to capture the mercenaries alive; for scum like them, death was the best fate for them.

Just as Mark's hand was about to touch the money bag...

"call out!"

Several thin, cicada-wing-like cyan wind blades, like the Grim Reaper's scythe in the night, silently sliced ​​through the wind and snow.

"Pfft!"

Blood splattered.

Mark, who was bending down to pick up his money bag, suddenly froze. A large head flew into the air, a greedy smile still frozen on his face.

Blood gushed from his severed neck, staining the white snow beneath him.

"What……"

The smiles on George and Luke's faces froze instantly.

The next second, more wind blades had already grazed their throats.

Their bodies slumped to the ground, their warm blood quickly cooling and congealing on the snow.

In the blink of an eye, three living mercenaries were turned into corpses.

This sudden and bloody scene left the young nobleman named Philip completely dumbfounded.

He stared blankly at the three corpses lying in a pool of blood, his mind completely blank.

Until a pair of boots covered in snowflakes came into his view.

Philip stiffly raised his head and saw the face of a young man.

“You…you are Lynn?” Philip’s body moved backward uncontrollably.

Lynn did not answer, but slowly approached him.

"No...don't come any closer!" Philip screamed in terror. "I'm warning you, I'm Viscount Babbitt's nephew. If you dare lay a finger on me, my uncle will never let you and Burning Fire get away with it."

Lynn paused for a moment.

The nephew of Viscount Babbitt?

It really came to me without any effort.

We only intended to catch a contact, but it turned out to be a big fish.

Seeing Lynn stop, Philip thought his identity had intimidated her, and a smug look appeared on his face.

"Scared now? If you are, then let me go."

Lynn looked at his ridiculous expression and a mocking smile curled at the corner of her mouth.

He was too lazy to even use magic anymore.

"Snapped!"

A crisp, resounding slap.

Philip was spun around twice by the blow before collapsing headfirst into the snow, spitting out several bloody teeth.

"You...you dare to hit me?" Philip covered his swollen cheek, his eyes filled with disbelief.

Lynn looked down at him, stepping on his chest and immobilizing him.

“Now, I’ll ask, and you answer.” Lynn’s voice was devoid of emotion. “Besides Viscount Babbitt, who else was involved in this?”

The sharp pain in his chest and the threat of death instantly sobered Philip from his drunkenness and arrogance.

Looking into Lynn's eyes, he finally realized that his proud identity was utterly worthless in front of this man.

"I...I don't know..." he was still being stubborn.

Lynn pressed down slightly with his feet.

"Click".

A clear cracking sound came from Philip's sternum.

"Ah!" He let out a piercing scream, the excruciating pain almost causing him to faint.

“I’ll say it again,” Lynn said calmly. “Who else?”

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” Philip completely broke down. “And…and Lord Martin, the city garrison commander, it was him…he was the one who opened the city gates and let us bring the grain in.”

“Very good.” Lynn nodded. “Where do you plan to transport the grain?”

“In…in several noble estates in the west of the city…I don’t know the specifics, it was all arranged by my uncle…” Philip pleaded tearfully, “Please, let me go, I’ve told you everything I know…”

I've asked everything I needed to ask.

Lynn looked at the nobleman at his feet, who was now utterly hopeless, and a hint of disgust flashed in his eyes.

He lifted his foot, and then, without hesitation, stomped it down.

"Uh……"

Philip rolled his eyes and fainted.

Chapter 169 Unexpected Visitor

Lynn looked around. The wind and snow continued, and the bodies of the three mercenaries would soon be buried by the heavy snow.

He walked up to the two wagons loaded with grain and threw the unconscious Philip into the carriage of one of them.

He then skillfully untied the reins of one of the carriages, looped them over the front of the other carriage, and had both horses pull it together.

After doing all this, he got into the driver's seat and shook the reins.

"drive!"

The heavy carriage struggled to move again through the knee-deep snow, slowly heading towards the south gate of Holy Song City.

……

South gate of Holy Song City.

The towering city walls stood like silent behemoths in the wind and snow, while the torches on the city towers flickered weakly in the gale.

Martin, the city gate guard, was huddled in a sheltered corner, cursing the damn weather while drinking cheap liquor to keep warm.

He was a confidant of Viscount Babbitt and was stationed here tonight specifically to meet Philip.

As long as this batch of grain is transported into the city, he will receive a large sum of gold coins.

The thought of gold coins filled Martin with excitement, and even the chill in his body dissipated considerably.

"Sir, a carriage is coming!" A guard, his nose running from the cold, reported as he ran over.

Martin perked up and peeked out.

In the wind and snow, the outlines of the two carriages became clearer and clearer as they approached.

"Finally here, you bunch of useless trash." Martin spat impatiently, straightened his collar, and prepared to go forward to meet them.

However, as the carriage drew near, Martin's impatience vanished instantly when he saw the person in the driver's seat by the light of the torches at the city gate.

That wasn't the mercenary he was familiar with, but a man who looked very young.

The man was dressed in ordinary travel clothes, covered in snowflakes, but he sat upright with an indifferent expression.

That face...

Martin's pupils suddenly contracted.

Lynn.

Cold sweat instantly poured from Martin's forehead, mingling with the snowflakes and making him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

How did he get here? Where are Philip and the mercenaries?

Countless questions exploded in Martin's mind, but his survival instinct made him make the right choice immediately.

"Lin... Lord Lynn, you've worked so hard!"

Lynn turned her head and glanced at him indifferently.

"Open the door."

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Martin exclaimed, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon. He then turned to the still-stunned guards and roared hysterically.

"Are they all dead? Didn't you hear Lord Lynn? Open the city gates!"

The guards were startled by his ferocious expression and dared not be negligent in the slightest. They quickly worked together to turn the heavy winch.

"Squeak."

The heavy city gates slowly opened amidst the wind and snow.

Lynn gave the reins a gentle tug and drove the carriage straight into the city.

Martin didn't recover until the carriage had completely disappeared around the corner of the street.

He knew something terrible had happened.

Young Master Philip and his mercenaries are probably doomed.

He dared not linger for a moment and rushed towards Viscount Babbitt's mansion like a madman.

……