"That guy has such a good reputation?" Not only Macal, but even Ogre was surprised by this.

For a merchant, maintaining a good reputation is no small feat—just not being notorious is already better than many peers.

"Alright, I understand... But why didn't you just report to the nearby town?" Macal let down his guard and gestured for everyone to gather.

"Someone from our team has already gone... but we haven't received any news yet. We're just waiting here for our departing teammate."

The hunters' response made Macal look at them with newfound respect.

Knowing this is a dangerous place, yet willing to wait for their partners here, and even coming out to stop passersby—though not successfully.

"So what do you plan to do next?" Macal asked a sharp question.

The hunters exchanged glances, and finally, the leading hunter stepped forward, "My friend, I'm glad you trust us. What I want to ask is simple—please let my brothers follow you to a safe village or town."

"And what about you?"

Macal scanned the area, confirming there was no sense of threat, and nodded—he needed these villagers to testify.

Because this matter seemed anything but simple.

'Fortunately, Brother Fra is still here...'

Macal felt lucky—if it weren't for a series of events earlier, he might have taken Miss Geling straight into town by carriage.

"I'll stay," the leading hunter said decisively.

The Church of Truth in small towns and villages isn't strong, as powerful Truth wizards are mostly gathered in large towns, seeking advanced knowledge.

On the contrary, strong members of the Church of Dawn are more likely to appear in small towns and villages—they need faith.

But not every village or town can have strong members of the Church of Dawn.

Most of the excellent knights and priests of the Church of Dawn are in a state of movement, only appearing when a village with many believers has problems, attracting powerful priests and paladins to investigate.

Usually, having a few priests and paladins at the level of ordinary professionals is considered good.

If it weren't for the witch incident.

A senior white-robed priest like Brother Fra would hardly come to Macal's village.

'Why does it feel like... the witch incident is related to this matter.' Ogre, on the side, began to suspect a connection between the two events.

"Miss Geling, do you think this is okay..." Macal had already decided to return to the village.

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He was a bit worried that Miss Geling might not be able to handle it.

"Mm..." Ogre nodded, feeling that professional matters should be left to professionals.

"I am a knight of the Church of Dawn—Macal. If you are willing to trust me, then come along. I can only do my best to ensure your safety." Macal stated his name to increase credibility.

"Thank you, Sir Knight..." The hunters exchanged glances and finally saluted Macal with a fist to the chest.

This was a sign of respect for a paladin.

The hunters didn't dwell on discussions or farewells—these decisions were made long before Ogre arrived.

"Wait for me, I'll definitely return with news." Macal promised the hunter left behind, striking his left fist to his right shoulder.

The hunters' actions were calm and meticulous, bold yet loyal, worthy of his promise.

"Thank you, Sir Knight, my brothers are in your hands." The leading hunter smiled and returned the salute, "If the town really has problems, then my life is ready for use..."

They were already prepared for revenge.

"We'll carry the satchel for you..." One of the hunters stepped forward to pick up the satchel Macal had left behind, finding it surprisingly light, not as heavy as imagined.

'Actually, losing this bag wouldn't matter...' Macal was about to say something but noticed the hunter had already picked up the satchel.

In the end, he lowered his hand, tacitly accepting the hunters' well-intentioned recklessness.

"Here..."

At this moment, Ogre handed over the telescope from before.

Since someone was staying behind, it was better to return this item to someone who needed it.

Macal understood, took the telescope from Ogre, and tossed it to the hunter staying behind.

"Let's go then... Oh, Miss Geling... if you ever feel you can't go on, I can carry you."

"Mm..."

Ogre nodded.

...

"I wonder how Ogre is doing..." Lange mused, having few friends, with Ogre barely counting as one: "That kid really lucked out, got the reward and ran off."

The adventure group had just formed and now it was disbanded, leaving anyone feeling a bit wistful.

But he didn't think someone like Ogre would suffer any losses.

"Don't worry too much about gains and losses, Lange..." Hearing Ogre's name, Foucault sighed inwardly.

He had high hopes for this borderlands apprentice—didn't expect things to happen so quickly.

No one regretted the disbandment of the Surpass Serris Adventure Group more than he did.

But what's done is done, and no amount of regret will change it. Looking forward is most important—his path wouldn't stop here.

"Yes, young master..."

Seeing Foucault's calm face, Lange refrained from mentioning that name again—since Ogre left the team, Foucault had been more withdrawn for a day.

Lange didn't know what Foucault was thinking, but he felt the young master had become more introspective...

'Anyway, we're leaving the borderlands...' Lange thought to himself.

Recently, Leidy had taken them away from the Professional Association in the borderlands city.

Now they were in a small town.

It was said that the city was too chaotic, with big events about to happen, so they came out to avoid it. It seemed they wouldn't stay in the borderlands for long.

After all, these nobles from the interior weren't very welcome by the borderlanders.

"Lange, you must understand—wherever the strong go, they remain strong." Foucault looked at the sky and said, "It's just a bird leaving its cage..."

Hearing this, Lange smiled, "Yes, yes, young master is right."

Unknowingly, they had reached the entrance of the small town.

"Young master, why are so many people gathered here?" Lange pointed to the town entrance and asked.

"Probably because winter is coming..."

Foucault scanned the people's clothing and gave his guess.

"It's not just winter... the beast tide is approaching, and if you don't want to die, you'd better return to the city quickly—this small town won't survive without a powerful priest." A voice reached Foucault's ear.

It was a knight leaning against the city wall, wearing dirty armor (note: with a helmet).

"Who are you?" Foucault bent down with interest.

"Be careful, young master, he's a knight..." Lange stepped in front of Foucault.

When knights get close, they can sense the Battle Qi on each other, although it's vague, it's enough to confirm identity.

"No problem..." Foucault placed a hand on Lange's shoulder, moving forward cautiously—though he kept a distance where he could react.

This action surprised the mysterious knight, "I thought all you nobles were arrogant and domineering."

"What we are is our business—I will change all that. But you, why are you spreading alarmist talk?"

Foucault's recent words carried no discernible emotion.

This made it difficult for people to detect any clear inclination in his words.

"I have no need to explain to you... believe it or not." The mysterious knight lowered his head again.

"You!"

Hearing this response, Lange's temper flared, unable to hold back.

"Lange!"

Foucault chided with a hint of helplessness, thinking Lange had changed—turns out he was still the same.

It seemed the road ahead was long.

If he couldn't change those around him, how could he talk about changing the world?

"You're injured..." Foucault placed a Healing Potion beside the mysterious knight.

This action made the mysterious knight look up again, "It's useless what you're doing—if you trust me, leave the borderlands, as far as possible."

He only spoke up because Foucault had helped the hungry and beggars yesterday.

"Young master, why bother with this guy? I think he's just a charlatan—a knight abandoning honor and dignity, lying at the town entrance spouting nonsense."

Lange had no patience for such mysterious types.

"Lange, you must learn to be cautious—everyone has difficult times, and regardless, he acted out of kindness." Foucault took a Gold Coin from his pocket and placed it in front of the mysterious knight, preparing to leave.

Since arriving at the borderlands, Foucault had been helping refugees whenever he saw them.

It made him feel better inside.

"Hey, my friend, if you don't want to be swarmed by beggars here, take your money back." Another voice came from not far behind Foucault.