Henwell chuckles softly. “Mountain Antelope Trade Caravan isn’t some small-time player. You’re one of the twelve major merchant guilds of the Duchy of Lumir. Actually, we have some connection, you have an office in my territory.”

Tony’s heart skips a beat. Having territory means this man must be a noble.

That makes sense. With such finely crafted weapons and armor, only a noble could command such elite warriors.

Tony hurriedly bows. “Forgive me, sir, for not recognizing your identity earlier. That’s my fault!”

Henwell waves his hand. “No worries. This isn’t really my territory anyway. Besides, this area is a no-man’s land, nobles don’t have jurisdiction here.”

Tony remains cautious. “Pardon my ignorance, sir, but may I ask which noble of the Kingdom of Ika you are?”

Henwell shrugs. “I’m not a noble of the Kingdom of Ika.”

That leaves Tony puzzled. If he’s not an Ika noble, then who is he? And since the caravan has an office here, he can’t be from Lumir either.

Besides, if he were a Lumir noble, Tony would recognize the banner’s emblem.

None of the white platinum cross stars embroidered on the knights’ cloaks or the flags on the four-wheeled wagons look familiar.

Could he be a noble from the northern Kingdom of Kosen?

No, that doesn’t make sense. The Kingdom of Kosen is too far north to be here.

Noticing Tony’s confusion, Henwell points to the emblem on his chest.

“This is my family crest.”

The emblem shows the small seal script of the name “Henwell” flanked by two claw marks, which only deepens Tony’s curiosity.

Henwell stops beating around the bush. “This is the silver wolf claw mark of the Phoenix family. The symbol in the center is my personal mark.”

After a moment’s thought, Tony’s eyes widen. “The Duchy of Vorry, the Phoenix family!”

Henwell corrects him. “It’s the Kingdom of Vorry now.”

Tony quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sir! I wasn’t meaning to…”

Henwell waves him off. “It’s fine. Although it’s officially a kingdom now, many commoners and remote areas still don’t know. Besides, Vorry was a duchy for hundreds of years, people need time to get used to calling it a kingdom.”

Seeing Henwell’s forgiving attitude, Tony breathes a sigh of relief.

Then Tony recalls what Henwell said earlier about the caravan having an office in his territory.

To his knowledge, the merchant guilds don’t have offices within the Phoenix family’s lands.

The Duchy of Vorry only has an office in the east.

Wait… there’s one more—Peace Haven.

Suddenly, Tony puts two and two together. The small seal script of the blood-red Henwell character. It all clicks.

And Peace Haven has only one lord.

Tony can’t help but exclaim, “You’re the Lord of Blood Hill—Henwell!”

Henwell laughs. “Oh? You actually know me?”

Tony nearly falls to his knees, terrified. This is the fierce figure even the Grand Duke of Lumir respects and fears!

He remembers the caravan reports mentioning the Lord of Blood Hill personally escorting the Phoenix family’s eldest son westward for training.

And now, here he is, face to face with this legendary man.

Panic rising, Tony realizes he just blurted out the Lord of Blood Hill’s name.

His legs go weak, and he tries to kneel and beg for mercy.

Henwell grabs his arm. “What’s the rush? I’m not going to eat you.”

Tony’s voice trembles with tears. “S-Sir… I didn’t mean… please forgive me!”

Henwell pats his shoulder. “Relax. Like I said, this place isn’t under any nation’s control. Nobles don’t have jurisdiction here. Besides, you didn’t say anything wrong! Names are meant to be spoken. You didn’t insult me; you just said my name. I’m not that brutal.”

”Also, your caravan contributes a lot to trade in Peace Haven. At the end of last year, I hosted a banquet for all the merchant guilds, including members of your Mountain Antelope Trade Caravan.”

After a long moment of reassurance from Henwell, Tony finally calms down.

Never underestimate how oppressive nobles can feel to commoners. The gap between classes is far more profound than mere wealth differences.

From here on, Henwell plans to travel with the caravan to Tule City.

That’s where the Western Federation’s jurisdiction begins.

Although the city is nominally independent, any appointment of its ruling family requires approval from the Western Federation.

With the Holy Spirit Church’s token in hand, Henwell and his group can use contacts within Tule City to reach the Federation’s guarded stronghold.

Traveling with the caravan is slower, but in this vast wasteland, the biggest danger is losing one’s way.

This Mountain Antelope Trade Caravan has crossed the wasteland three times already.

It’s not exactly second nature to them, but it’s far better than Henwell’s group trying to find their own way.

When Henwell asks what the greatest danger in the wasteland is, Tony gives the answer everyone agrees on—weather.

This cursed land has terrifying temperature swings between day and night, making extreme weather common.

Hail the size of fists can fall, whipped by fierce storms, with nowhere to take shelter.

Thankfully, at this time of year, such catastrophic weather is rare.

The caravan takes advantage of this window to press on with their trade.

Beyond catastrophic weather, many other dangers lurk.

But for humans, the greatest threat is other humans.

Wasteland bandits are infamous—slipping in and out without a trace, killing and looting. That’s the caravan’s biggest fear.

For Henwell’s group, though, that’s no problem.

As for dangerous creatures in the wasteland, there are plenty.

From giant beasts that can swallow horses whole to venomous insects, all pose deadly threats.

Still, with caution, many dangers can be avoided.

Besides, the weather has warmed up now, the most dangerous season has passed.

At the start of spring, most creatures emerge from the cold winter starving and aggressive.

That’s when traveling the wasteland demands extreme caution.

Now, after a round of hunting and fighting, both large and small creatures have quieted down, focusing on finding mates and reproducing.

Three days later, Tony turns to Henwell. “Sir, there’s a small village not far ahead. Should we rest there for a day, or push on and camp in the wild?”

Henwell doesn’t decide immediately. “You have more experience—decide what’s best. Follow your usual pace. Don’t worry about us.”

After some thought, Tony opts to rest overnight in the village.

That afternoon, the group arrives outside the village.

Henwell’s group doesn’t travel directly with the caravan, and Tony understands why.

Having such elite fighters with the caravan might make others think they’re carrying something valuable.

Even though Henwell isn’t afraid of bandits, Tony isn’t here to hunt them down.

Avoiding trouble means saving energy.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep