After traversing the wilderness, Valak and his group finally arrived at their destination. Normally, the journey took only two days, three at most by cart. But with so many emaciated villagers on their side, they had no choice but to travel slowly, all the while allowing the villagers to regain their strength. Thankfully, the young noble had given them enough meat and rations to last the journey.

“That’s Blackstone Town?” said Valak.

From here, they could make out a number of houses haphazardly built in all around. There were no walls, no watchtowers. It gave the impression that monsters had never been a threat to the town.

“Hey, is this really okay?” said one of the villagers. “There are almost a hundred of us here. I doubt this small town will be able to accommodate all of us.”

This was also one of Valak’s worries. Although the young noble had told them he was the ruler of this domain, they were doubtful that the citizens would welcome them. After all, he and his fellow villagers were additional mouths to feed.

“I heard there’s a forest near here,” said Valak. “If these guys don’t want us, we can simply build a new village there.”

His statement calmed the villagers’ uneasiness. They had excellent hunters with them, after all. As long as a Calamity Class Monster like the basilisk did not appear, they would be able to survive through any season.

“What’s that?” A villager pointed at three figures blocking the road.

Valak and his group halted. Each of the three figures was clad in a black hooded cloak. Through the gaps in their clothes, their armor glistened in the rays of the sun. Valak momentarily locked eyes with one of them and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

These guys were dangerous. He wasn’t even sure they were human. His instinct screamed that they should not take any more steps forward.

The other villagers could feel it too; silence fell over the group.

“Each of these guys are probably as strong as Anandra,” said Valak. His intuition was usually correct in times like these. His statement stirred the villagers. He turned to the soldier accompanying them. “Is this also your first time seeing those guys?”

The soldier nodded. “There’s no way the soldiers in town would be able to afford that armor.”

Valak creased his brow. “I see.” He raised his voice. “We’re here under the orders of the noble ruling over this place! We’re refugees! We mean you no harm in coming here!”

His voice echoed for a moment. The three figures remained still.

“Maybe they’ll believe us if they see the letter,” said the village elder. He walked toward the cloaked figures. As he took a third step, the three figures unsheathed the swords on their waists.

Valak felt their murderous intention. This was dangerous. Even if his whole group attacked together, they would not be able to win against the three.

Holding their swords, the three started walking toward the villagers. Valak and the stronger men pulled out their bows and daggers. Women and children went to the back.

“Damn it,” snarled Valak. “What are these guys? Knights? Aren’t you listening?! We’re not here to fight!”

Just when the three armored figures were about to attack, the pocket of the soldier accompanying them glowed. A soft buzzing sounded across the terrain. Everyone looked toward the sound.

The soldier took out the palm-sized tablet from his pocket. It was the object given to him by the young master before they parted ways.

Seeing the tablet, the three armored figures froze. After several long moments, they sheathed their weapons. They turned and ran away from sight. Valak and the rest of the group were dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

“What the hell was that?” mumbled Valak. He said to the soldier, “They seem to have reacted to that stone.”

By now, the tablet had lost its glow. The soldier continued holding it, as though it was a talisman to ward away those dangerous beings. “The young master told me that this thing is a pass. So, he meant it like that…”

The soldier finally understood what the young master had tried to convey. Had he not brought the tablet with them, these refugees would have been slaughtered by now—himself included. He shivered at the thought. But who were those armored men? Each of them was huge, probably more than two meters in height. None of the town’s soldiers were like that.

“Elder, the young master gave you a letter for Sir Gaston, right?” said the soldier.

The elder nodded. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go straight to the mansion.”

The group entered the town. Contrary to their expectations, the town was not decrepit at all. The streets were cobbled, just like those seen in larger cities. Even if it rained, the road wouldn’t get too muddy. The people living in this town blazed with life. The refugees expected the citizens of Blackstone Town to be skinny and famished, but they found a different picture.

The residents of Blackstone Town walked with purpose, their gaits firm and lively. Some children played in the streets, while the adults pulled carts filled with wood and stones. They saw dozens of men wearing leather armor running and carrying spears.

“Soldiers?” mumbled Valak.

Normally, a town as small as this would not have so many soldiers. The local lord would have only a handful of people to protect him, about a dozen guards at most. Furthermore, each of those soldiers was wearing full leather armor, coupled with spears and short swords.

“Halt!” shouted one of the soldiers.

The men holding spears stopped in their tracks and stood rigidly waiting. The one that shouted the orders approached Valak and his group.

“I am Qarat, Captain of the Blackstone Soldiers,” he said. “Name yourselves.”

The elder stepped forward. “Greetings, sir. We are from Mahelpa Village west of here.”

“Mahelpa?” said the soldier. He had never heard of it.

The elder explained the events that had led to them arriving at Blackstone Town.

After listening to the story, the soldier rubbed his chin and nodded. “I see. The seal on the letter is indeed from the Marcus family.” He turned to the soldier who had accompanied the refugees. “The young master? How is he?”

“We parted ways near the plains. He’s probably at Lion City now.”

“Is that so?” said Qarat. He pondered that for a moment. “The young master is wise. He probably has his reasons for allowing this group to come here.” He pointed at a street. “The mansion’s just beyond that one. Turn left after that wooden cabin and keep walking. Sir Gaston usually goes to check the farms by noon. If you hurry, you’ll still be able to meet him.”

The elder bowed his head. “We are grateful, Captain.”

Qarat scratched his cheek, embarrassed. “Then… the soldiers are waiting for me.”

After Qarat returned to their group, the soldiers once again started running with their spears. It was a beautiful sight, dozens of uniformed men running through the town.

“Last year, a merchant that passed through our village told me this is a ghost town,” said the elder. He shook his head, dismissing the thought.

It was evident the merchant was wrong.