Chapter 67: The Long Road

Chapter 67: Chapter 67: The Long Road

The carriage settled into the rhythm of the poorer northern track. Over time, trees closed in on both sides. The sky hung low and gray, promising more rain by evening. Allan kept his back to the wall, one hand resting lightly over the bandage.

The dull pull of the wound was steady. He had already catalogued it and set it aside.

Amelia sat across from him, hands knotted in her lap. For a long stretch no one spoke. The only sounds were the creak of the axles and the soft clop of the spare horses tied behind.

At last Amelia’s voice came, small and hesitant.

"I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—"

"Enough." Allan cut her off without sharpness. "It was my decision to bring you. The Viscount’s anger sits on me, not you. Say it again and I’ll start charging coin for every apology."

She bit her lip, then nodded once and silence returned, thinner this time.

Lira watched the exchange from the corner seat, then spoke with the practical tone she used when decisions needed settling.

"Master, Lady Amelia, the Viscount will keep trying. Letters. Knights. Accusations. The simplest answer is marriage. Proper papers, public seal. Then no one can claim she is only traveling under your roof."

Seris’s head turned. Her usual quiet focus cracked into clear surprise.

"Marriage?"

Lira did not look away from Amelia. Her voice stayed respectful, formal.

"Lady Amelia. Seris and I will not be set aside. We stay with him. That is not negotiable. If you agree to the marriage, you agree to that as well."

Amelia’s eyes moved between them. After a moment she gave a short, firm nod.

Lira held out her hand, pinky extended.

"Promise."

Amelia hesitated, then awkwardly hooked her own pinky around Lira’s. The contact was brief and clumsy, but the nod that followed was clear.

Seris exhaled through her nose, something between acceptance and amusement, and looked back out the window. Allan wanted to comment, but it seemed Lira had planned this beforehand.

Roooooarrrrr!

The forest thickened. An hour later another batch of beasts came, low, lean things with mottled hides and too many teeth, drawn by the scent of horses and open packs. Allan did not rise this time. He knew it was a waste of energy. He only watched, unfazed by what was happening.

Lira’s water blades took the lead pair before they cleared the underbrush. Seris moved like smoke, short cuts opening throats and joints. Amelia’s dark affinity flared once, a controlled pulse that dropped the last three mid-leap. The road was clear again in under a minute. None of them looked winded.

"Well done, girls. It seems my training is bearing some fruit."

"You trained us for a few days. That doesn’t count."

Allan knew, and even though he smiled, "It does. All your killings and level-ups are because of me."

Why would he smile? His level was increasing as well, slowly more than before, but it was increasing.

Allan gave a small, approving tilt of his head and closed his eyes once more.

Near the junction the carriage slowed. A line of city guards blocked the direct western fork, the faster road that would have shaved half a day. Their captain stepped forward the moment he saw the Oakwood crest on the door.

"Baron Oakwood." He offered a crisp bow. "This road is closed. A disaster-class beast has claimed the stretch beyond the ridge. Multiple parties confirmed. We advise the northern alternate."

Allan didn’t like that. He didn’t like that at all.

Allan leaned out. "Proof?"

The captain produced a bloodied scrap of armor and a half-charred map marked with claw scores deep enough to gouge the leather. "Three patrols lost contact. Survivors described something large enough to uproot the old oaks. We will not clear the road until the guild or the Archduke’s men arrive."

Allan studied the marks, then the faces of the guards. They were not lying. Still, the direct road was cleaner.

"I don’t care if there are beasts. We can handle them. Let us pass—"

Amelia spoke before he could press further.

"Take the other route, Allan. The one through Archduke Poseidon’s lands. We cannot afford delay from a fight we do not need, and not when you are injured."

Allan’s jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. She was right. The wounds on his back and chest still ached. The driver turned the team onto the secondary track that would eventually feed into Poseidon territory, Atlantis proper.

Once the guards fell behind, Seris asked the question hanging in the air.

"Why do you dislike that road so much?"

Lira and Amelia waited for the answer.

Allan kept his eyes on the trees. "You will understand when we reach it. Not now."

The road grew rougher. Late afternoon light thinned. Then the roar came, deep, rolling, distant yet strong enough to rattle the carriage windows. The ground shivered under the wheels. Birds erupted from the canopy in every direction. Somewhere far to the west, trees cracked.

"What’s happening?" Seris asked, covering her ears because of the noise of that roar.

Lira’s face went still. "The guards were telling the truth."

The second tremor hit harder. The left wheel dropped into a sudden split in the packed earth. Wood screamed. The carriage pitched sideways, slammed against a low embankment, and stopped at a hard angle. One axle was cracked.

Allan held all the girls, hoping no one was harmed. No one was indeed harmed.

"You girls alright?"

They nodded, slowly coming out of the carriage. The carriage driver lay on the ground, slowly waking up.

"Sir, you okay?" Lira asked. The driver nodded. But the moment he saw the state of the carriage, he cursed, already climbing down with tools.

Night was coming on fast and Allan didn’t want their path to darkness.

"Let’s camp up here."

They made camp in a shallow clearing just off the track. The driver worked by lantern light, listing the parts he needed and did not have. Allan set the watch rotation, then sat with his back to a tree while the three women checked weapons and the remaining food.

Allan smelled something. When he saw them, figures from the darkness with lamps and fire coming towards them.

"Ha, of course. Yggdrasil’s favorite NPCs."

The first bandits arrived just after full dark, eight of them, already loud. They saw the crest, the quality of the remaining horses, the women.

"Nobles on the road. Lucky night." The leader’s grin was all teeth. "You! Empty the silver. Then we take the pretty ones for a proper look. Be a shame not to taste what the Baron keeps so close."

Lira’s voice went cold. "Don’t you dare. We belong to him alone."

"Oh, someone’s feisty. I will taste you first."

Seris’s hand was already on her blade. Amelia’s fingers curled, dark energy gathering at her tips.

"Then die," Amelia said.

The bandits laughed.

Allan rose slowly. His eyes steady. "Don’t kill them."

What followed was short and ugly. Lira and Seris moved first. Amelia’s pulse of force knocked two sideways. In less than a minute every bandit was on the ground, legs broken at the knee, arms at the elbow or shoulder, none of them dead. Pain kept them conscious.

Amelia looked down at the nearest one, still breathing hard.

"They should be dead. You know that."

Allan didn’t reply. He crouched beside the leader, who was trying not to scream. "Where is your den?"

The man spat blood, then pointed with his chin toward a dark cut in the hillside half a mile east. Allan hauled him upright.

"Show us."

They left the shaking driver with the damaged carriage and two of the less-broken bandits under Lira’s temporary binding. The rest of the group moved in silence through the trees, Allan supporting the limping leader while Seris and Amelia flanked. The cave mouth was narrow, half-hidden by hanging moss and old brush. Torches burned deeper inside.

Lira’s voice was low as they approached.

"Why was this necessary? Spare parts for a carriage do not require a full den."

Allan did not look back. "I came for axle fittings and a spare wheel if they had them."

They crossed the hill. When they saw light, blistering light from the valley below.

"Instead we found this."

The leader, still under Allan’s grip, stumbled them forward into the wider chamber.

More than a hundred figures sat or lay in rough groups, nobles in torn travel clothes, merchants, commoners, even a few children.

Their hands were bound. Wagons and carriages of every size filled the far side of the chamber, some still loaded with crates, others stripped for parts. Weapons, coin chests, and personal effects were stacked in neat piles under guard.

At least forty more bandits moved among the hostages, checking ropes or counting goods. The air smelled of sweat, smoke, and fear.

Amelia came close. "What do we do?"

Lira’s aura flared. "We save them, of course."

Seris’s blade appeared in her hand. "These pests need to be cleaned."

Allan sighed. He wasn’t fond of side quests, but this was reality, and there were people.

"Okay, only this one time..."