Chapter 47: Christine (August 3)

Londe Kingdom, Outside Notting City

A Londe Kingdom supply caravan was traveling along the main road.

“Once we deliver this, we get a break, right?”

At the front, a soldier chatted with his companion.

Unlike him, his companion seemed tense.

“Let’s talk after delivery. Don’t let your guard down. Haven’t you heard? This road’s crawling with bandits lately.”

“So what? Those ragtag types without armor dare face us head-on?”

The soldier tapped his chestplate, producing a dull thud.

“Hear that? This is master-crafted Londe armor. With this, I’d say I’m Hero-level against those unarmored rogues.”

“Pfft, give me a break.”

His companion shot him a disdainful look but didn’t argue.

In the age of cold steel, armor often tipped the scales in battle.

Against weaker foes with dull weapons, most couldn’t even dent it.

Fully armed soldiers could take on multiple bandits, especially in formation.

But alone or ambushed, armor became a burden, leaving them vulnerable.

An officer rode up, lashing both soldiers’ shoulders with a whip.

They yelped but didn’t dare protest.

“Stay sharp! You’re escorting supplies, not joking around.”

The officer scolded the group, his whip a warning.

Chastened, the soldiers stayed vigilant for the rest of the journey.

As they neared the end of the danger zone, ready to relax, dozens of crossbow bolts shot from the nearby woods, piercing armor and throwing the caravan into chaos.

“Enemy attack!”

A soldier ducked behind a cart, dodging follow-up volleys.

Others weren’t so lucky, felled by panic or lack of cover.

The officer reined in his horse, shouting, “Attack! Form ranks!”

But the soldiers’ morale had crumbled; few heeded his call.

Bandits poured from the woods.

To the soldiers’ shock, they were well-equipped, especially the front line, whose armor rivaled the army’s.

“Aren’t these bandits supposed to be a rabble? Why do they have gear this good?”

The officer, pale with fear, realized these weren’t the usual bandits—they were armed like rebels.

A female knight at the forefront slit a soldier’s throat with a single strike, then charged the officer on horseback.

*

Soon, the battlefield held only carts and supplies. Most surviving Londe soldiers, aside from those felled in the initial attack, surrendered.

They watched helplessly as bandits guarded them and looted their cargo.

The female knight, wiping her sword, stood tall.

A bandit in armor approached. “Lady Emmeline, we’ve inventoried the supplies. They’re ready for the base.”

She sheathed her sword and removed her helmet, revealing short, dark brown hair.

Barely in her twenties, her beauty could pass for a noble’s daughter if not for her martial aura.

“Good work.”

Emmeline patted the bandit’s shoulder through his armor. “Stay here. Release them after we’re gone.”

She tossed her helmet into a cart, hopped onto a carriage, and signaled the bandits to move the goods.

The carriages veered off the main road, taking a winding mountain path.

By evening, the supplies reached the bandits’ stronghold—a heavily fortified camp with sharpened wooden stakes at the entrance.

Seeing Emmeline return safely with Londe’s supplies, the camp erupted in cheers.

She handed the carriage to others and hurried to the central hall.

There, a girl with purple hair and eyes studied a map intently.

Hearing armor clank, she turned, smiling warmly at Emmeline. “Back?”

“Yep, everything’s intact on the carriages.”

“Good.”

The girl nodded with a smile. “This batch is military gear. It’ll help us expand.”

“Your Highness Christine…”

Emmeline addressed the girl.

Christine tilted her head, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“Forgive my bluntness, but is expanding our forces so quickly wise? The one in Elan City must’ve noticed us by now…”

At Emmeline’s concern, Christine approached, placing a hand on her shoulder plate.

Looking up at the taller Emmeline, she smiled. “Noticed us? And then what?”

“They think we’re just bandits. But with this gear, they’ll soon see us as rebels. The villages below will face scrutiny… maybe even a larger army to crush us.”

“So we stay here forever, playing bandits?”

Christine spoke calmly. “Everything we’ve lost—isn’t it all because of that man? Give him a few more years to solidify Londe’s control, and can we ever return?”

Her eyes filled with sorrow.

Emmeline lowered her head, ashamed. “Sorry, Your Highness. I’ve grown too complacent.”

“No, your caution’s valid. After this haul, we’ll lie low. The villages need our help with farm work anyway.”

Christine had no intention of remaining a bandit forever, but she knew her priorities.

After dismissing Emmeline, she gazed outside, her eyes burning with hatred.

“Duncan, everything you did to my family—I’ll make you pay double…”