Chapter 15: Lynn’s Killing Intent, the Coerced Reed

Dusk shrouded the towering stone walls.

Behind the walls drifted a mix of cooking smoke, horse manure, and the scent of rust.

The banner of the ruling Morgan Family fluttered from the tower’s peak.

At this moment—

Lynn had already followed the caravan to their destination.

When he raised his head, he saw the heavily guarded Williams Town.

Even at night, the city walls were brightly lit, vigilance strong.

“Up ahead is the west gate of Williams.”

Captain Reed rode closer to the rear of the wagon, his voice lowered.

“We’re about to enter town and deliver the goods.”

“Duane, you sure you’re not coming in with us?”

“Finding an inn to rest at is better than sleeping out in the wild.”

Lynn shook his head slightly.

Duane was, after all, the alias he was using.

Since the Lynn Church bore his real name, revealing it could easily expose too much.

“No, Captain Reed.”

Lynn’s expression remained calm as he looked off in a certain direction.

He had run into a minor problem.

This incarnation was fading faster than expected—he didn’t have enough time to enter Williams.

So he could only first investigate the situation at the camp.

To see whether McKinley’s words were true.

Reed followed Lynn’s gaze.

He saw the outline of a crude encampment, and combined with their earlier conversation—

His brow immediately furrowed tightly.

“Sigh, all that talk along the way, looks like it was a waste of breath.”

“You kid, you look mild-mannered, but deep down you’re stubborn as a mule!”

Reed pulled on the reins.

He let the caravan continue slowly forward while he stopped in front of Lynn.

“Remember what I said—some doors, once you walk through them, you might never come back out. Especially those bearing the Morgan crest!”

He gave Lynn a deep look. “Take care. If there’s ever a chance, come find me for a drink.”

He gave Lynn’s shoulder a firm pat.

Reed said no more.

He kicked his horse and caught up with the caravan, soon disappearing into the shadow of the great city gate.

Lynn stood where he was, feeling a trace of emotion.

Beneath the rough exterior of that mercenary captain lay a rare and genuine sense of loyalty.

“He’s someone worth befriending.”

Lynn smiled faintly.

If fate allowed, they would meet again—such things could not be forced.

Then—

He no longer hesitated and turned off the main road.

His figure blurred like a shadow as he moved toward the camp.

Yet, the closer he got to it, the heavier the air became.

No birds sang. No insects chirped.

Only a sickly-sweet metallic scent that seeped into the bones!

The temporary camp finally came into Lynn’s view.

But instead of the imagined blood-soaked ground—

The soil had been artificially covered with a layer of pale ash.

When Lynn’s divine sense pierced through the surface and detected the dark crimson saturation beneath the dirt, along with the tiny, unburned bone fragments—

His heart grew heavy.

There was no doubt—McKinley had spoken the truth!

A massacre had indeed taken place here!

And more importantly—

Someone had deliberately concealed it, erasing the evidence!

A small squad of guards clad in the Morgan family’s standard leather armor, swords at their waists, patrolled lazily nearby.

There was no grief on their faces, only numb irritation.

Lynn had just reached the camp’s edge, still a hundred steps away—

When one guard suddenly raised his head, hand on his sword hilt.

“Hey! You there!”

The guard barked crudely, “What do you think you’re doing? Get the hell away from here!”

“This place is off limits! Come any closer and I’ll cut your damn head off!”

Lynn didn’t respond, nor did he stop.

But an intense killing intent had already begun to gather in his heart.

“Let’s hope the last of my remaining strength can still form a sharp enough blade…”

He murmured softly.

The next moment, the guard’s head flew high into the air.

……

Inside Williams Town—

In the side hall of the Morgan Family’s castle, flames flickered in the fireplace.

The air was filled with the scent of expensive incense, masking a deeper, mustier odor.

The Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps’ crates were already stacked neatly in the corner.

Captain Reed stood in the hall, slightly bowing—respectful, but not servile.

Opposite him sat a middle-aged man wearing a deep violet velvet coat, a large sapphire ring gleaming on his finger.

He leisurely examined the cargo list.

His name was Carlisle Morgan—Lord Williams’s younger brother and the second-in-command of the family.

He oversaw the territory’s trade… and certain unspeakable dealings.

“The goods all check out, Captain Reed.”

Carlisle’s tone was mild, even slightly genial.

But his pale gray eyes were like water frozen beneath ice—utterly devoid of warmth.

“You’ve had a hard journey.”

“I heard you took the shortcut outside Mistwood this time?”

Reed’s heart tightened, though his expression remained calm. “Yes, Lord Carlisle.”

“Time was pressing, so we took that route for speed.”

“Oh?” Carlisle set the list aside.

He picked up a glass of deep red wine and swirled it gently.

“That forest isn’t very peaceful these days.”

“Lots of ghouls—and other things—wandering around. You didn’t run into any trouble, I hope?”

His gaze appeared casual, but the pressure beneath it was palpable.

Reed couldn’t help recalling Duane—

That young man with the distinct presence they had met at the crossroads.

He knew well that this serpent’s inquiry was anything but concern!

“Heh, thanks to Lord Carlisle’s good fortune,” Reed forced a grin,

showing a weathered, slightly coarse smile.

“Didn’t run into anything serious. For mercenaries like us, meeting a few brainless ghouls trying to ambush a caravan is nothing new—we chopped them up.”

“As for anything else, can’t say we noticed. We were focused on the road; no time for sightseeing, right?”

He skillfully sidestepped the crucial point, steering the talk toward typical mercenary troubles.

Carlisle stared at Reed for several seconds.

“I see. That’s good.”

He silently set his wine glass down. “I was simply curious.”

“I had sent a small cavalry squad into Mistwood earlier—led by a promising young magician.”

“But they vanished. No word at all, as if the damned forest swallowed them whole.”

Carlisle’s voice remained calm,

as if speaking of a trivial matter.

Yet cold sweat already beaded on Reed’s back.

Although it had nothing to do with the Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps, and he hadn’t seen any cavalry at all,

the fact that Carlisle mentioned this now could only mean more trouble was coming!

Sure enough—

Even as Reed stayed silent, Carlisle continued,

“Captain Reed, I’d like to commission your Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps for another task.”

“Help me search Mistwood for that missing cavalry unit and the magician, Porter. What do you say?”

Reed gritted his teeth, about to refuse with the excuse of exhaustion.

But when he looked up, he met Carlisle’s icy eyes.

At once, Reed knew—there was no way out.

That damned serpent!

Always handing the most dangerous jobs to mercenaries like them!

“V-very well, Lord Carlisle. It’s an honor for the Gray Wolf Mercenary Corps to serve you.”

“Heh, excellent,” Carlisle smiled.

“Let your men rest well tonight—our Morgan Family will cover all expenses.”

“But at dawn tomorrow, I expect you to depart immediately.”

“I want them found—alive or dead!”

“Yes…” Reed left, seething inside.

Little did he know—

Someone had already avenged that anger for him.

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