Chapter 44: Double Kill

Once the northernmost town faded from view for the two travelers in the carriage, they both felt a wave of sentimentality and drifted into their own thoughts. Shaoke was less affected—his only lingering thought was when he might return to the place of his first promotion. There was nothing here he missed. The female mage, however, was different. Perhaps because her father remained behind—and this departure made it uncertain when she could next visit him—she initiated their conversation with a tinge of sadness: “Mage Xueye, is there anyone here you’ll miss? Are your parents here too?”

Under her earnest gaze, Shaoke lowered his hood and replied, “Mage Woton, I have no ties here. I have no relatives—they passed away when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry, Mage Xueye. I simply don’t want to leave my father. I’ve heard the capital isn’t ideal—though it offers great advantages for advancement, the cost is too high.” She slightly averted her eyes and also removed her hood, revealing her beautiful face. “A mage from the capital told me that once. He’d come here for training.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that too.” Shaoke gazed intently into the blue eyes of the lovely mage before him, searching for something deeper. “As long as you hold fast to your principles, what does it matter if you must pay a price?”

As the caravan pressed onward, their conversation swiftly shifted to their respective magical studies, and they exchanged insights. Of course, having just met, neither opened up fully—their deepest secrets remained unshared. Even so, Shaoke felt he had gained a far deeper understanding of spellcraft through this exchange.

Previously, the other two mages he’d traveled with—Mage Feiyi and Mage Kiya—had also exchanged insights after their advancements. Yet at that time, Shaoke had not yet reached the mage rank himself, so he’d understood little of their discussions. Now, conversing with another newly advanced mage—and drawing upon his prior knowledge—he felt he’d made significant progress.

Though the area surrounding the small town was not as harsh as the Misty Forest, it lay perpetually under snow. Despite the severe environment, merchants—lured by enormous profits—continued to flood in waves. Had it not been for the scarcity of mercenaries along the border near this town, even more merchants would likely have arrived.

The merchants were pleased with this journey. Though the route wasn’t excessively long and road bandits were rare—they’d never encountered major trouble traveling alone before—having two mages join this large, improvised merchant caravan greatly eased their minds. Consequently, when preparing meals for the mages, they used their finest provisions to curry favor, hoping to secure the mages’ aid should danger arise.

After three or four days of travel, villages vanished entirely within a day’s journey. A merchant spokesperson, chosen by the group, approached the two mages—who were deep in discussion about spells inside their carriage—and informed them of the situation ahead: “Honorable Mages, we are now leaving Snowfall City’s territory and jurisdiction. This stretch belongs to a small town ahead—and bandits roam freely here. However, we will not fight them. By longstanding agreement, we need only pay a toll in silver to pass safely.”

Shaoke glanced at the female mage, who sat quietly without offering a reply, so he responded: “Very well—thank you for the warning. Rest assured, we’ll fully reimburse you for our share.”

Separated by a thick cotton curtain, the merchant gave a somewhat informal bow. He wondered what the two mages did all day inside the carriage. He’d heard the shorter one was a woman—could they be making little mages in there? His wild speculations didn’t prevent him from hearing the mage’s promise of compensation. They didn’t truly need the money—but still, they thanked him for his generosity.

After the merchant departed, Shaoke and the female mage discussed his warning and prepared contingencies. She smoothed her slightly disheveled long hair and said, “Mage Xueye, should we act if those bandits appear? Demanding money from mages is truly outrageous.”

Shaoke hadn’t expected such a reaction from her, so he explained, “Mage Woton, we needn’t act. The merchants already have an agreement with the bandits—they’ll handle it. Besides, the bandits don’t know there are two mages in this caravan.”

The female mage was initially puzzled, a flicker of anger flashing in her blue eyes—but under Shaoke’s calm gaze, it faded. She offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mage Xueye. I was so absorbed in magic I overcomplicated a simple matter. Luckily nothing happened—or the merchants would surely complain about us in secret!”

“Hmm—not necessarily. Some might hope we slaughter every last bandit! That would save a fortune in road tolls.” After pondering the complexities of human nature, Shaoke shook his head and dismissed the thought. The female mage chuckled. “Perhaps that could happen.”

Shaoke looked puzzled—this was the first time he’d seen her laugh. Though he couldn’t fathom why, it didn’t stop the mage—feeling a physiological impulse—from admiring her and indulging in quiet fantasy.

Fortunately, Shaoke’s self-control held firm enough to prevent any rude staring. The atmosphere between them grew noticeably livelier after her spontaneous laughter. They no longer spoke solely of magic, but wove in anecdotes from their academy days. Most stories came from her, while Shaoke listened quietly. His own academy life had held little joy—only mechanical study and fragmented historical tidbits, which had cost him much delight. Still, he believed it was worth it. His sole regret was failing to win over one of the academy’s few female mages.

The following days proved smoother for the mages in the carriage—but increasingly frustrating for the merchants, though they’d traveled this route countless times.

The bandits appeared highly coordinated. Each day, a group several times larger than the caravan’s guards materialized. They never attacked outright, but sent a representative to negotiate. If the merchants honored the ancient agreement, they paid a per-person fee and were allowed to pass. Those who violated it faced furious blades and arrows—the bandits would rob them completely, slaughter every living soul in the caravan, wrap the corpses in snow, and pile them roadside as grim warnings.

Yet these bandits followed a strange custom: they used stolen money to purchase goods from merchants, never robbing the most valuable items or things they themselves needed. No one knew why—not even the bandit leaders. It was a rule handed down across generations. No bandit dared break it—or risk being encased in snow blocks by his peers.

As the two mages grew closer, she even permitted Shaoke to call her Francis. He was delighted—a marked improvement from just days earlier. Hmm! In a few more days, he might even hold her soft, delicate hand.

Perhaps owing to a woman’s unique sentimentality, she grew increasingly dependent on Shaoke. Once familiarity set in, they abandoned formal mage etiquette. Shaoke lounged against a pillow, reading a book borrowed from her. Following his lead, she gave up sitting upright in the bumpy carriage, lazily leaning back against a thick cotton cushion he’d procured from the merchants. A heavy velvet blanket draped over her abdomen, and for the first time, her high chest revealed its proud silhouette beneath her loose robe. Slowly turning the pages of a large-format book, its bottom edges occasionally brushed against that prominent curve—leaving Shaoke, reclining opposite her, parched with thirst. He quickly slid the porcelain jar containing the small stove toward her, seeking relief.

With only a few days left until their destination, the caravan jolted to a sudden halt. Shaoke first assumed it was another routine bandit toll—but moments later, a merchant—heedless of the poor road conditions—ran breathlessly to their carriage. “Honorable Mages! The bandits ahead have torn up the ancient agreement! They demand all our goods to let us pass—or they’ll attack! Our guards have gone forward, but we’re badly outnumbered. This is extremely dangerous!”

Without pausing to register surprise, they hurriedly prepared for battle, threw on their cloaks, and followed the messenger forward. The female mage spoke nervously, “Mage Xueye—will we have to fight? I never expected this. Only the army can suppress such brazen bandits.”

Shaoke nodded lightly. “They *are* brazen. What prompted them to abandon the agreement? I hope not all are like this—or we’ll never reach our destination with our current guards. Don’t worry, Francis. Even if something happens, we’ll be fine. Ordinary bandits pose no real threat to mages.”

“Hmm!” She tightened her grip on her slender staff and touched the magic powder her father had prepared, hidden inside her cloak—her nerves settling slightly. After all, her past adversaries had been magical beasts; facing humans now unsettled her.

Following the merchant, they took cover behind a cargo wagon at the front, observing carefully. The guide rushed to the other merchants ahead and whispered that the mages had arrived. They visibly sighed in relief and began directing guards to prepare. Coachmen swiftly turned wagons sideways across the front line and rapidly unhooked the drawbars to pull the horses back. Guards hurriedly drew arrows from their quivers and planted them upright in the ground for quick access.

Opposite them stood a group of roughly one hundred bandits—wielding swords and wooden shields, with throwing axes and javelins at their waists. Some had bows drawn, awaiting their leader’s order to slaughter.

“Kill these bastards! They ignore my words—turn them into ice sculptures to adorn this road! Kill… kill!” Their leader was a two-meter-tall giant wielding twin double-axes. Seeing the merchants hastily erecting a makeshift barricade, he knew bloodshed was inevitable if he wanted what he demanded—so he ordered the attack without hesitation.

At less than a hundred meters, arrows could only be loosed twice before the bandits closed in. The crude barricade—still incomplete—stood no chance against their charge. With fewer than fifty guards capable of fighting, they couldn’t withstand the onslaught.

Protected by two guards, Shaoke swiftly chanted an incantation. To intercept the charge quickly, he didn’t even cast a defensive spell. Hands forming seals, a fireball slowly coalesced before him. With a sharp thrust, he launched it forward—the fireball trailing a two-meter-long flame tail as it roared toward the frenzied charging bandits. The female mage likewise unleashed a ‘Fireball’—slightly slower than Shaoke’s, yet faster than he could manage without the hand-seal technique.

The two fireballs triggered panic among the frenzied bandits. Though they tried to dodge, under the mages’ mental control, only those lucky enough to scramble into sparse areas survived. Shaoke’s fireball locked onto the double-axe-wielding leader—knowing the densest cluster gathered around him, he aimed to deprive them of command, sapping both strength and morale.

“Boom!” Under Shaoke’s focused strike, the leader’s body suddenly flashed with faint white light—some gathering on his axes, most clinging tightly to his torso. His crossed axes intercepted the fireball, triggering a violent explosion. Surrounding bandits screamed as flames engulfed them—flames that refused to extinguish even after rolling on the snow-covered ground, burning through thick clothing and muscular flesh. The luckier ones were struck in the head by flying embers and died instantly—spared prolonged agony.

The female mage’s fireball slammed into a dense cluster, killing six or seven outright, with several others severely burned—likely losing all combat capability.

The leader who’d intercepted Shaoke’s fireball was hurled violently backward. Fortunately, he’d instinctively activated his battle aura in time—avoiding being reduced to charred meat. But caught off guard—he hadn’t anticipated mages—he’d failed to fully mobilize his aura, sustaining serious injury. His axes were ruined, and he lay gravely wounded by that accursed mage. How hateful! Why would a ragged caravan carry mages—*two*, no less! Why hadn’t they announced it earlier? This misunderstanding wouldn’t have occurred! And you mages—why not reveal yourselves sooner, so he could have prepared!

Leaving the leader spitting blood while muttering complaints, Shaoke swiftly prepared his second spell: ‘Web Spell’. A white orb shot toward a dense cluster and detonated violently. Two frenzied bandits—having witnessed the terror of spells—saw another incoming and erupted with desperate energy, somehow tumbling and scrambling at double speed to avoid being ensnared by the web—leaving Shaoke marveling inwardly. Life mattered most. Luckily, they hadn’t activated their battle aura.

The female mage cast Fireball again—with minimal effect. The bandits no longer dared charge. Their leader had been blasted by that accursed fireball—and no one knew where he’d gone. These grunts had no idea whom to serve, so they dropped their weapons and scattered wildly. Only the smarter ones kept small weapons for self-defense.

Seeing them flee in all directions, the mages knew spells were now useless—arrows would be more effective. They abandoned pursuit. Recovering mana and focus required time. Besides, this was Shaoke’s first time killing people—unlike beasts, or watching others kill. He felt nauseous. He glanced at her—her cheeks flushed faintly, but her lips were pale. She wasn’t faring well either.

The merchants and guards—who’d readied their bows—stood frozen, stunned by the carnage. They knew mysterious mages were powerful, but had never seen them truly fight. This satisfied their curiosity—and resolved the crisis. After a brief pause, they broke into loud cheers.

Since the bandits had fled far and the guards were few, they didn’t pursue. Only a handful of guards wished to impress the mages, firing sparse arrows that merely fell harmlessly behind the fleeing men. Merchants directed the guards to clear the battlefield—then hurriedly surrounded Shaoke and the mage, bowing deeply and expressing heartfelt gratitude.