After four months, when the goat merchant convoy invited Derek to escort them again, he readily agreed. Vincent, the manager, even added an extra gold coin to the commission, which was quite generous. Derek was even allowed to carry some personal goods without issue. Since they were familiar with each other and the route, the journey went smoothly. There were no signs of bandits; perhaps the previous defeat had scattered their group. The noble influence couldn’t extend deep into these mountains, where there simply wasn’t enough population to support it.
When they finally reached the last mountain stronghold, Derek became serious. According to tradition, the convoy would stay here for two days. He felt a flicker of hope, wishing he hadn’t misjudged the situation. Vincent, recalling the previous incident, joked, “Don’t get your hopes up too high; I’d wager that mountain dweller won’t show up.” Even though they were profiting from the mountain people's wealth, he looked down on these poor, combative individuals.
Derek remained noncommittal; if they broke their promise, it would only be a minor hassle. Yet he didn’t believe that would happen—his judgment of character had always been accurate. On the first day, naturally, no one appeared. On the second day, there was still no sign of them. Feeling disappointed, Derek noticed Vincent shaking his head slightly. It seemed the young man needed to learn a lesson about the world’s harsh realities.
Standing outside the camp, he sensed the convoy was about to leave, and the number of mountain folk passing by increased. Many were coming from other strongholds. Could it be that he really had misread the situation? Derek wavered; unlike the nobility, who looked down on the mountain dwellers, he felt a sense of heroism from them. This heroism was a neutral term; such people might commit wrongs or act unlawfully, but they generally wouldn’t easily break promises. Perhaps this was just a lesson learned.
Just as he was about to turn away, someone shouted from behind, “Feng, I’m here!”
Derek quickly turned around and saw several figures rushing toward him, carrying something on their backs. A smile broke across his face—not because of the ten wild boar hides, but because they had come as promised. Before long, Wood, the mountain dweller, ran up to Derek. He noticed that Wood took a small step back, while the others instinctively positioned themselves behind him.
Suddenly, a familiar face emerged from the group. Derek remembered clearly that this was the same guy who had charged ahead before, taking several hits. It was surprising he was still alive. Thud! A few bundles of wild boar hides were dropped on the ground with a dull thump.
“Feng, this is what I owe you. I, Wood, never tell lies.”
Derek didn’t even glance at the hides on the ground, valuable though they might be. “You truly honor your word; you’re a man of your promise.”
He praised loudly, and Wood puffed out his chest, no longer resembling the desperate figure from before. Now he looked like a true hero. The mountain dweller, Lloyd, had been observing Derek closely. He was curious about the noble who had been willing to extend credit for medical supplies, especially since it seemed like Derek didn’t even notice the hides on the ground. This was not the behavior of a typical noble knight.
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Originally intending just to fulfill a promise, Lloyd suddenly had another idea. “Feng, thank you for your trust. Would you dare to come with me for a drink?”
The invitation was unexpected. Wood couldn’t help but shout, “Big brother!!!” Although he didn’t like outsiders, he felt some fondness for Derek, fearing his brother might be trying to trick him for money.
Derek paused, realizing this was an opportunity. Gaining trust could sometimes be very simple or very difficult. If he declined, he might lose an excellent chance. The mountain dweller didn’t seem foolish; he probably wouldn’t do anything reckless.
Most importantly, Derek touched the sword at his waist, revealing a confident smile. “What’s there to be afraid of? Just a moment, please.”
He waved over Simon, who had been watching from a distance, keenly aware of the approaching group. “My lord, what are your orders?” Simon's sturdy build exuded a strong sense of intimidation. He had become even more formidable than four months ago.
“Have someone take these things away and bring what I have with me.”
By not suppressing Simon’s hostility, Derek showcased his own strength. Seeing Derek's subordinate, everyone’s expression turned serious, clearly recalling unpleasant memories.
Derek pretended not to notice and turned back with a smile, “Would you mind if I brought a follower?”
In this situation, one person or two made little difference. Lloyd nodded, thinking that if this man had the courage to accompany him, they could become friends. Soon, Simon ordered people to move the hides, and before Vincent realized what was happening, he pulled out some personal items.
Simon approached carrying a wooden box. Ignoring the curious looks from the others, Derek urged, “Let’s go!”
Lloyd silently nodded to his subordinates and led the way out. The convoy wasn’t truly camped within the stronghold, just outside its gates on a relatively flat piece of land. Since Lloyd’s group was not close by, they definitely wouldn’t be returning home tonight. Nearby, they found a spot to set up camp.
Three simple leather tents were quickly erected, and a fire was lit in the center. Seeing Lloyd return, five or six individuals emerged from hiding. Derek observed quietly; this small group had around ten people.
In the mountains, that wasn’t a weak force. Here, mountain dwellers often banded together in groups of a hundred or more, while some families lived alone. Survival in these harsh conditions was tough; no one would want to stay here longer than necessary unless they had to. Thus, Lloyd’s ability to rally a dozen strong men was commendable, and he likely had more people not present, as there was no need to send everyone out for a simple task.
When Derek arrived, the remaining members seemed not to recognize him. Yet their wary eyes suggested they saw him as a potential prey. Lloyd said nothing, seemingly ready to deceive Derek into coming closer for his own gain.
For lawless mountain dwellers, killing him could provide a sense of satisfaction. Simon had already placed a hand on his sword, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
In contrast, Derek appeared unfazed, laughing heartily as he found a stump to sit on. “There’s no need for this charade, leader. Let’s sit down and talk.”
He acted as if he were at home. Lloyd raised his hand to calm his restless subordinates and sat down across from Derek. “Aren’t you afraid?”