Chapter 51: The Ranger Team

As Elias and Belthon continued walking toward the eastern watch fort, the six figures standing near its entrance gradually came into focus.

They were all wearing light armor, although their equipment was noticeably different from the set Erick had given Elias. Their armor resembled standard-issue equipment, with fewer protective plates and none of the small refinements that made Elias’s armor so comfortable and quiet.

Elias narrowed his eyes as he examined them.

Four of the six men were slender, while the remaining two were considerably bulkier and had enough muscle and weight on their frames to at least appear capable of handling themselves in a fight.

All six carried swords.

However, Elias couldn’t help wondering whether any of them actually knew how to use them.

Belthon glanced toward him and noticed his expression before quietly suggesting, "You have to be friendly with them."

Elias looked at him curiously.

"Why?"

Belthon’s expression became slightly serious as he answered, "Because what happens in the rift stays in the rift, and so do the dead."

Elias stared at him for a moment before understanding the meaning behind those words.

If something went wrong inside the rift, there would be no guarantee that anyone would return to report what had happened, and if the other rangers decided to abandon him, he could easily end up alone against a Lord-level guardian.

"You make it sound like they might kill me themselves," Elias muttered.

Belthon shrugged.

"I said you should be friendly. I didn’t say they would."

Elias gave him a doubtful look but didn’t continue the conversation.

The two men eventually reached the watch fort, and as they approached the six rangers, Elias finally got a clear look at each of them.

His earlier impression had not been wrong.

Two of the skinny men were trembling so badly that Elias could see their boots shaking against the stone pavement, while the other two had gone pale.

The two bulkier men, however, appeared completely different.

Neither seemed particularly troubled by the approaching danger, and both stood with relatively relaxed postures while keeping their hands close to the hilts of their swords.

Whether they were genuinely confident or merely pretending to be didn’t matter much to Elias.

He had no intention of wasting time asking them.

Before he could say anything, the doors of the watch fort opened, and Berlic Draveon stepped outside.

The moment he saw Elias, a pleasant smile appeared on his face.

"My nephew," Berlic said warmly as he walked toward them. "You are finally here."

Elias’s expression immediately darkened.

That false warmth was almost more irritating than open hostility.

Berlic stopped beside the six rangers before gesturing toward the first man.

"This is Ravy."

Ravy was a commoner who had joined the Kilmir Relief Order in search of honor and recognition, hoping that his service would eventually earn him a suitable position somewhere within the city. His short black hair was messy, and his nervous expression made it difficult to imagine him as the brave warrior Berlic had apparently chosen for such a dangerous mission.

Berlic moved to the next man.

"And this is Charles."

Charles was another commoner, although his reasons for joining were considerably less ambitious than Ravy’s. He had simply wanted to help the Kilmir Relief Order in any way, and that was how he ended up here.

His shoulder-length dirt-brown hair hung loosely around his face as he watched Elias in silence.

Berlic then pointed toward the third ranger.

"Jessie."

Jessie was slightly shorter than the others, and the trembling of his boots immediately betrayed his fear. He repeatedly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, while his fingers remained wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword as though he were afraid to let go.

Elias studied him for a moment before moving his gaze toward the fourth ranger.

"Lorey."

Lorey’s long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but his head remained lowered, and his shoulders were visibly shaking.

He looked as though he wanted nothing more than to turn around and run.

Elias’s expression became increasingly solemn.

’These are the people Berlic chose?’

His gaze shifted toward the final two rangers.

"Dane and Smith," Berlic said.

The two bulkier men stood beside each other.

Dane had curvy, dark-black hair that fell around his head, while Smith had short brown hair and a faint smile resting on his face. Both kept one hand near the hilt of their swords, and unlike the other four, neither showed any obvious sign of fear.

Dane’s posture was especially confident. He stood with his shoulders straight and his chin raised.

Berlic then turned toward Elias and gestured toward him.

"And this here is Lord Elias Crimson."

Dane and Smith immediately looked toward Elias.

Their eyes narrowed slightly as they examined him from head to toe.

Dane was the first to speak.

"Is he the team captain?" he asked.

Elias remained silent.

Naturally, he was the only trained swordsman among the seven rangers, and judging from the condition of the other six, he was probably the only one with any meaningful combat experience.

However, Berlic had prepared something else.

"No," Berlic said, shaking his head. "That would be you, Dane."

Dane’s eyes widened slightly before a broad grin spread across his face.

Berlic continued, "You know these people, so use them well."

Dane immediately straightened and bowed toward Berlic.

"As you command, City Lord!"

When he raised his head again, his gaze shifted toward Elias, and the confident smile on his face became noticeably more haughty.

Elias’s right hand slowly clenched.

’Is this a joke?’

He looked across the six rangers once again.

They were untrained, unprepared, and scared out of their wits, while the only two men who appeared remotely confident were now looking at him as though they were enemies.

How were these six men supposed to enter a spatial rift and return alive?

Unlike them, Elias knew that it was a Grade Two rift.

Even a properly trained team would have to approach such a mission with extreme caution, yet Berlic had assembled a group that looked as though half of them had never fought anything more dangerous than a drunk civilian.

Elias’s eyes narrowed.

’Or perhaps that is exactly what he wants.’

His gaze briefly returned to Berlic.

It was obvious. Berlic didn’t care whether these men survived; he wanted Elias dead.

If the rift killed Elias, then the other six were simply acceptable losses.

’He is willing to sacrifice six people just to get rid of me.’

Elias felt a chill settle in his chest as he considered the implications.

If Berlic had chosen six expendable men just to kill Elias, he couldn’t help wondering how much the Draveon Marchional Clan itself hated him.

His expression became colder.

At that moment, Berlic spread his arms slightly and looked toward the assembled rangers.

"Everything is ready," he said, his voice carrying an unmistakable excitement.

His smile widened, and a strange glint appeared within his eyes as he looked over the seven men.

"It is time for you to leave, brave men of Kilmir."