Isolde rode on Moon's back, traveling southeast along the old trade route.
Though called a trade route, the road had long been mostly overgrown with weeds.
She stopped before a half-collapsed road sign tangled in withered vines. The writing on the wooden board had been washed away by rain, leaving only a few blurry directions.
She could vaguely make out the North, Blackthorn Ferry, and a few others, but no matter how hard Isolde squinted, the rest were completely illegible.
Another signpost had split in two and lay in the mud.
Isolde pulled the reins, certain that this road had once been a major trade route.
But now, it was barely traveled, and even most of the villages along the way were deserted.
She suspected Duke Valen Sylvian had turned the area surrounding the castle into a monster's nest, frequently luring and killing passersby.
Over time, ordinary people didn't dare approach, merchant caravans took detours, mercenaries grew fearful, and the nobility couldn't be bothered to intervene.
Once everyone became accustomed to treating this place as a danger zone, it was naturally forgotten in a corner of the world.
However, a corner forgotten by the world was also the most suitable place to hide.
But she couldn't hide in the grey mist forever.
Sooner or later, she would make Crow Candle Castle appear openly on the map.
Moon gave a soft snort. Snapping out of her thoughts, Isolde patted its neck and continued forward.
By evening, the road finally became a bit “lively.”
Three bandits from who-knows-where emerged from behind the trees.
The leader, a man with a messy beard, held a rusty cleaver in his hand, his eyes glued to Moon.
“Miss, if you want to pass through here, you'd better leave your money and your horse behind. Don't worry, my brothers and I won't make things difficult for you.”
Isolde stopped and looked down at them.
Three of them.
One cleaver, a chipped axe, and one holding a wooden stick just to make up the numbers.
Their leather armor was torn, their boots had holes, and the coin pouches at their waists were pitifully flat.
Seeing that she didn't speak, the bandits thought she was terrified. Another thin man immediately shouted:
“Did you hear us? Get off the horse.”
Isolde shifted her gaze away from his waist pouch, her tone flat.
“With gear like that, you dare try to rob a horse?”
The bandit's smile froze.
The next moment, Moon took a step forward.
As the black horse's shadow loomed over them, the men finally realized that this steed was a head taller than ordinary horses.
The leader took half a step back, then tightened his grip on his weapon, shouting desperately:
“Get her!”
A moment later, on a withered tree next to an abandoned post station, there were three more people hanging upside down.
Each of their faces bore a clear horseshoe print.
Isolde sat on Moon's back, shaking a coin pouch.
Only two copper coins fell out, and they were chipped at that.
“...”
Isolde looked up at the men in the tree.
“You guys are this poor, yet you dare come out to rob people?”
The bruised and swollen bandit leader swayed as he hung upside down, crying out:
“Milady, please don't kill us! This is all the money the three of us have left combined. If you don't mind, please take it all!”
Isolde pocketed the money and looked down at the broken blade and chipped axe on the ground.
They wouldn't fetch much, but the iron could still be melted down.
She swept them all into her ring.
Even mosquito legs were meat.
In her past life, she had even scavenged crushed slag. Even though she was reborn now, she still retained some of her scavenging habits.
Before leaving, she also casually fished out the half-bag of dry rations they had hidden under the tree.
Opening it, she saw that besides black bread as hard as stone, there were several shriveled frog beans.
Isolde stared at the frog beans, her expression subtle.
Moon lowered its head to sniff them, then decisively turned its head away.
She threw the frog beans back exactly where they were, mounted her horse, and prepared to leave.
Seeing that she was actually about to leave, the men hanging upside down grew anxious.
The messy-bearded leader swung like a dried salted fish, straining his voice to yell:
“Miss! No, Milady! Do you need bodyguards?”
Isolde pulled the reins and looked back at him.
“Bodyguards?”
Her gaze slowly swept across them.
One was thin, one was injured, and one was plain stupid.
The stupid one had been hanging upside down for so long that his eyes were starting to roll back.
Isolde let out a disdainful chuckle. “With just you lot?”
The messy-bearded man didn't seem to catch the disgust in her tone and quickly said:
“We're cheap! Just one copper coin a day! Serving tea, pouring water, leading the horse, carrying things—we can do anything!”
Isolde glanced at Moon.
Moon also glanced at them.
The human and the horse reached a silent consensus.
Who would saddle themselves with three deadweights?
Isolde tightened the reins and continued forward. Then, after a brief thought, she said casually:
“If you can repave this old trade route before I return, I might consider hiring you.”
Having said that, Isolde didn't look at them again.
Moon quickened its pace, quickly carrying her away until they vanished at the end of the old road.
On the withered tree, the bandits were still hanging upside down.
When the wind blew, they swayed like tattered sacks.
After a long while, the bald man whose eyes had been rolling back finally spoke weakly:
“Big Brother.”
The messy-bearded man was still staring in the direction Isolde had left, lost in thought.
The thin man swallowed hard. “Is she playing with us?”
The bald man also said listlessly:
“Yeah, Big Brother. She left and didn't even let us down. Besides, what kind of job is road-paving? We're bandits.”
The messy-bearded man suddenly snapped out of it and barked fiercely:
“Bandits? You still have the face to call yourselves bandits?”
“You went out to rob, yet you couldn't even hold a wooden stick steady and got kicked into this state by a horse! Who are you robbing? The ants on the side of the road?!”
The two shrank their necks back from the scolding.
The bald man muttered in a low voice:
“But I'm hungry...”
“It's right that you're hungry!” the messy-bearded man scolded. “Only when you're hungry do you realize how hard it is to stay alive!”
The thin man sniffed. “Big Brother, what do we do now?”
The messy-bearded man struggled to swing his body, curling up like a lobster in an attempt to reach the thin thread around his ankles.
But he missed. Instead, he swung even harder, almost bumping into the bald man's forehead.
He cursed in anger and spat, “First, find a way to get down!”
The bald man quickly asked, “And after we get down?”
The messy-bearded man glared at him:
“We pave the road!”
...
Over the next few days, Isolde traveled along the old trade route.
Traveling by day, she would find a sheltered spot to rest by evening.
The food Lia had prepared for her was plentiful, and keeping it in the Radiant Ring ensured it wouldn't spoil.
Along the way, she saw burned-down village houses and the wreckage of caravans dragged to the side of the road.
Occasionally, wild beasts would draw near, but with just a single glance from Moon, they would tuck their tails and retreat into the forest.
On the evening of the fifth day, Grey Oak Village appeared at the end of the road past an abandoned mill.
Half of the mill's sails were broken, its wooden walls were covered in green moss, and a corner of the roof had collapsed.
Beside it ran a shallow stream with muddy water and a patch of wild grass growing along the bank.
Isolde pulled the reins, bringing Moon to a halt in front of the mill.
In the distance, the outline of Grey Oak Village was already visible.
A few wisps of cooking smoke rose from behind the low roofs. At the entrance of the village stood a wooden fence and a crooked watchtower.
Further inside, the faint sounds of human voices and barking dogs could be heard.
She had arrived.
Isolde dismounted and led Moon into the abandoned mill.
No one had been here for a long time.
Moldy straw was piled in the corners, and there were traces of rats scurrying across the ground.
She first checked the surroundings to make sure no one was hiding before pulling the door half-shut.
Moon stood behind her, lowering its head to nuzzle her shoulder.
Isolde raised her hand to stroke its face.
“I can't bring you inside with me next.”
A beautiful black horse was already eye-catching enough.
If Rena, who had supposedly “escaped by the skin of her teeth,” rode into the village on such a fine steed, even an idiot would find it suspicious.
Furthermore, Milo knew that Rena didn't own a horse like this.
She raised her wrist, and the Corona Band glowed faintly.
“Go back for now.”
Moon watched her for a moment, seemingly reluctant.
Isolde softened her tone slightly.
“I'll call you again soon.”
Only then did Moon lower its head, gently nudging her palm.
Dark red spots of light scattered from its body, and the massive horse gradually turned into mist, drawn back into the Corona Band.
Silence returned to the mill.
Isolde took out Rena's badge and poisoned shortsword.
She also retrieved a few silver coins from her hidden pocket and stuffed them where Rena's coin pouch should have been.
The combination of the 【Witch's Mask】 and 【Inverse Radiance Shadow-Folding】 would make anyone with lower intelligence than her more willing to believe that she was indeed “Rena”.
But she could not replicate Rena's combat techniques.
At critical moments, she would still need to use Soul Threads for covert assistance.
Isolde walked up to a cracked water vat, the surface of the water reflecting Yu Lingye's face.
She closed her eyes and conjured Rena's appearance.
Soon, her facial features began to shift.
A pair of shrewd eyes now harbored a trace of harshness, and her neat short hair made her look more agile.
Isolde reached down and tore the hem of her cloak.
She dirtied the edges of her clothes on the ground, then used the shortsword to slash a few tears into her cuffs and shoulders.
Next, she stabbed a rat to death and smeared its blood on her collar, wrists, and the edge of her neck.
The blood couldn't look too fresh; what she needed was the disheveled look of someone who had fled for her life all the way back.
So she grabbed some dirt, mixed it with water, and smeared it on, making her skin look filthy and chapped.
Having done all this, Isolde stood before the broken water vat and tilted her head to inspect herself.
Not enough.
She reached up to mess up her hair, then used her fingernails to scratch a shallow mark on the side of her face.
The pain made the corners of her eyes turn slightly red.
Now, she finally looked like an unlucky mercenary who had crawled back from a pile of corpses.
Rena pushed open the broken door of the mill and saw several lights lighting up at the entrance of the village in the distance.
She pulled her hood down, dragging her slightly staggering steps toward Grey Oak Village.
Rate on N.U.
