The Trist Valley stretched west of the Elford Lands, culminating in another fishing port at its western end. Simon and Percival strolled along the valley's main road.

Merchants and carriages would typically traverse these roads, especially during the summer season. However, after the incident with the Bloody Axe Bandits, there was a temporary halt in activity, particularly within the valley. The Adventurers' Guild intervened at the request of the Elford, as adventurers were urgently needed to hunt down remnants of the Bloody Axe bandit group. They were also tasked with warning travelers and carriages traveling along the main roads.

Despite being cautioned by patrolling adventurers, Percival and Simon pressed on, with a determined destination in mind. Their current dilemma was the absence of available rides, leaving them with no choice but to walk.

“A cart is approaching,” Simon alerted Percival, who was a few steps ahead. Soon enough, a carriage came into view. They could spot it from miles away, given the valley's slight incline as it sloped westward, leaving only two visible directions.

“Doesn't it seem odd?” Percival remarked, squinting his eyes for a clearer look. The cart appeared to be moving at an unusually rapid pace.

“It's being chased... monsters,” Simon added, noticing small clouds trailing behind the cart. He was certain the cart couldn't produce that many dust clouds.

The two readied themselves, and after a while, they recognized the cart—it was the weed cart they had ridden when they were attacked by the Bloody Axe.

“Help!!! Help!!!” The driver instantly recognized them; a large man with an axe and a boy with a sword were not easily forgotten. He immediately turned his cart, making a beeline towards them.

“Simon, I've got this,” Percival said. Simon nodded, then veered into a side road. He started nibbling on a piece of dried meat, wearing a blank expression on his face.

…

With his axe held firmly, he stood ready. It was only moments before the contact.

“Do a hard left now!!!!” Percival screamed. The driver complied, swinging his arms left and pulling the horses in that direction. The monsters pursuing them were Red Horned Bulls, and the horses appeared terrified.

Five bulls were in pursuit. While the eastern continent had long been inhabited by humans, such events still happened from time to time.

Unlike the central continent, where main roads were regularly patrolled, there was limited manpower for road safety in the east. The Elford, the main nobles governing the eastern frontier, lacked sufficient manpower.

As Simon nibbled on his food, he wondered how Percival would stop the charging bulls. He'd probably use a similar tactic to when facing a knight's charge.

Percival sprang into action, positioning himself in the path of one of the bulls. With a forceful strike, he halted the bull by attacking its head directly. The bull died instantly upon contact with the axe, yet Percival remained unscathed, astonishing everyone.

‘That worked alright!!’ Simon thought.

The other four bulls attempted revenge but failed. Percival deftly dodged their charges while dispatching them one by one with precise strikes to the head. By the time the third bull fell in the same manner, the remaining bulls began to show signs of fear.

“Hey… that’s my style!!” Simon said. It seemed that the northerner had integrated something from their sparring, but he was not agile enough, Simon thought.

“Simon, have you ever tried steak?” Percival smiled just thinking of how the bulls would taste, it seemed that the boy had affected him in some way, he was enjoying food too. “These bulls actually taste great when cooked as steak!!!” He added as the fourth bull charged at him.

“... I'm hungry now,” Simon said as his stomach growled. They were going to have beef tonight.

<--->

From dismembering to draining blood, Simon moved with the efficiency of northern hunters. The task took time, and dusk was settling by the time they finished.

The merchant they rescued decided to travel with them for a while, their paths aligned.

“Simon, how old are you now?” Percival struck up a conversation as they settled near the campfire. He could see the familiarity of adventure in Simon's demeanor.

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“I'm 14. Why do you ask?” Simon seasoned the meat he was preparing on a stone slab Percival had found. He was surprisingly large for his age.

“Nothing... How about another match before dinner?” Percival suggested. Simon simply nodded, and their attention turned to the driver they had saved earlier.

“We won't give you any food if you don't contribute something,” Simon declared suddenly.

The cart driver was taken aback by Simon's assertion. The tall man accompanying him nodded in agreement. It was evident that the two still remembered him. He had departed as soon as the main roads were safe to travel, taking with him the baggage the two had left on his cart.

He sighed and took out wine and cheese from his cart, inspired by Simon’s words and his guilt.

“Let's bet on the cheese. How about I get some of your share?” Simon proposed. “Hmm... that's a deal, boy,” Percival smiled as he stood up. Removing his cloak, he towered over the small kid, making Simon look like a baby—a comparison the driver made as he opted to watch their spar.

Simon and Percival had sparred before, so they were familiar with each other's fighting styles. They assumed their stances, and the lone onlooker knew it wouldn't be an ordinary spar. Simon initiated with a lunge and a quick slash, but Percival parried it effortlessly.

He counterattacked, but Simon spun and launched another attack from the side. Percival had seen Simon's dodge and slash moves before—they were beautiful and efficient, but one word came to Percival's mind: "annoying." It was unlike his graceful maneuver against the bulls.

The way Simon dodged while launching an attack, the momentum he built—it was remarkable. The boy didn't even need to strengthen his attack, as the momentum was already doing its trick.

But the world was wide, and Percival, in his age, had many tricks up his sleeve. The northerner's battle style with the axe was simple: strike as hard as you could, then think afterward. Simon's annoying style countered his approach entirely, but it also depended on the situation and the difference in size.

In just one step, he opted for a weapons lock, and he was successful.

“Oof!” Simon grunted as he felt the full weight of Percival's strength, given that Percival could exert much more force due to his taller stature.

“Resist it, kid,” Percival taunted and pushed more force using his upper body’s strength and muscles.

“Oof!! Ooh!” Simon broke the lock with brute force, opening up another chance for attack.

“Really, kid?” Percival was quite surprised. Where did that strength come from in his small body?!

Then Percival smiled and let go of his axe, tackling Simon with his full strength. The two went down to the ground, and Percival immediately found Simon's arms that were holding the sword. “I got you, kid. You lose!!” Percival declared. Simon smiled as he tried to break free from the lock, but he sighed... it was impossible. The difference in body size made it impossible; he tapped out.

The two were crazy strong, and probably a bit off in the head. The driver heard the clashing of their weapons and the grip of Percival's arms. It was all for the cheese.

Maybe these two could do it... No, he was the one burdened with it; he must be the one to do it. It was all his fault. He opened a bottle of wine and drank to his vow. The sound of the wine popping made Percival look his way.

“Oh, someone is eager to feast now!” Percival said as he helped Simon stand up.

“I don't drink though,” Simon answered.

<--->

The meat from the mad bull tasted delicious, earning even Simon's approval, and the carriage driver had a sauce to complement it.

The 3 savored the meat, too bad Simon didn't drink. “You know, we still remember your kindness,” Percival remarked suddenly, causing the carriage driver to freeze mid-bite.

“Don't worry, it's forgiven. You shared your wine and mead with us. But why are you heading here? Haven't you heard the warnings issued for merchants and travelers?” Percival inquired.

Though it felt somewhat shameless, the driver had to try. “Hey... what if I offer you a ride westward again?” He didn't want their conversation to end.

“Are you being chased by someone?” Simon interjected. “He might be carrying something dangerous,” Percival added astutely. The two seemed to hit the mark, leaving the driver feeling uneasy. But deep in his heart, he hoped for assistance.

“Well, my legs are weary from walking. Let's ride...” Percival proposed, raising his cup in a toast. Simon opted to raise a bone with meat instead. The driver smiled and mirrored the gesture.

<--->

The next day...

The three were now traveling together. The two were riding behind the cart, which was full of food boxes and such. While lying down, Simon suddenly sat up from a reclining position. After a while, the horse started to sound nervous; the driver could tell, having been with the horse for a long time.

“Someone is coming,” Simon said. Percival, who was still lying down, understood how Simon could tell. Simon had a sense that was as sensitive as, or probably even more so than, animals. He couldn't tell how the old man trained him, but to be this perceptive at his age was remarkable.

“Don't increase speed... they have two options now: they could attack now or wait until later at night... Stop shaking; we've got a good detector here. We'll know if they're coming towards us,” Percival reassured the driver, pointing at Simon with his thumb. The driver just gulped and followed the instructions.

<--->

“Got any info about them?" a man fully shrouded in black clothes asked. There were four of them. Their mission was to steal something, a very important artifact. Their master claimed it was worth a whole country, though they didn’t know exactly what it was.

“The big guy is a northerner for sure, but the other one with him... we have no information about him,” another one of the four answered.

“I'd say we test the waters first,” suggested another.

The four nodded in agreement and continued to follow the carriage.

“Be careful, there's information that there are members of the assassin's guild in the eastern frontier... they targeted the same relic too but failed,” the last of the four said.

“You should have said that in the beginning... we scout for them then,” the leader of the team spoke; he was the first one to speak.