113: Escape

The dawn's first light stabbed diagonally into his bloodshot eyes like a dagger, his dark pupils contracting violently, as if trying to squeeze all the children in his sight into targets for slaughter.

The red-haired girl innocently fiddled with the black-robed man's hem, the sheen of the black satin flowing through her fingertips.

Amidst her seemingly innocent movements, I caught a glimpse of a dark flash—the black-robed man's money pouch had quietly slipped into her skirt.

The black-robed man suddenly gripped his right wrist with his left hand, the leather bracer digging deep into his flesh.

The clang of Flame Fist Soldiers' standard boots came from afar, and "Scarface" rushed over with his men, glancing at the black-robed man who was about to lose control, muttering, "Where's that little brat?"

Seeing the black-robed man remain silent, he stepped forward, pushed the red-haired girl aside, then, with each step, pulled over a child to examine carefully, until he grabbed and then released me.

"None. Trouble is coming soon from behind. We'll climb over the wall and keep searching."

Led by "Scarface", the ten people chasing me successively climbed the high wall at the end of the alley and went over.

"The Flame Fist are here!" the children cheered in unison, scattering and fleeing.

I walked into the shadow at the alley's mouth, and from a distance, I saw a squad of Flame Fist, five men, walking this way.

The ten experts chasing me were just a wall away; if a fight broke out, these five men would be no match.

Seeing the dead-end alley behind me was empty, I re-entered stealth, simultaneously adjusting my energy shield to enable dual invisibility mode, and quietly walked in the direction the Flame Fist squad had come from.

All the way, I was still debating whether to ask the Flame Fist to escort me back, or to remain invisible and slowly find my way back.

Even as I brushed past the Flame Fist Soldiers, I still didn't have the courage to reveal myself.

I looked up at the narrow sky above the alley, discerned the direction, and began searching for a path to the south.

The dawn in the slum was iron-gray, with half a month's accumulated snow piled into blackened mounds at the base of the walls.

A gaunt raven suddenly swept overhead, its wings shattering the dark blue of the eastern sky—the golden spire of the Morning Song Temple was casting its first rose-gold gleam on the mountaintop, like Losanda striking a match in the clouds.

Mule-dung frozen in the ruts became natural markers, and I stealthily followed these crescent-shaped grooves southward. A dim oil lamp suddenly lit up to my front right; an old woman wearing a rabbit-skin hat was prying open a frozen well cover, the clanging of the iron rod against the ice startling a vagrant curled up in a pile of straw.

Turning the next corner, the narrow sky was fragmented by the clotheslines on either side.

Frozen linen sheets clattered like bells in the wind, and a chamber pot was suddenly flung from a broken window, the yellowish liquid arcing through the air, precisely extinguishing a dying charcoal brazier on the lower balcony.

The curses alarmed the patrol, and I immediately shrank into a dead end piled with empty wine barrels, watching the iron boots of five Flame Fist guards shatter their reflections on the icy surface.

When the Holy Emblem of Losanda fully emerged from the ridge, the slum finally opened its weary eyes.

A hunchbacked mushroom vendor pushed a wheelbarrow over the ice shards, a drafty bearskin covering the cart's contents.

Two children with frostbitten faces squatted under the eaves, using heated Dragon Blood Tree Resin to melt snow and cook rat meat soup.

A man with copper-rimmed glasses started a fire in the doorway, and a woman's scolding came from inside, "There's nothing in the house! Can't you just apologize to your superior! This whole family will starve today!"

"It's so difficult in the city; they can't even raise military funds for bandit suppression, and the noble sirs still refuse to pay their taxes," the man grumbled. "I'm still going to the Municipal Hall today to demand an explanation. Why did they fire me?"

It's him!

That former tax official who was kicked out of the Municipal Hall the day before yesterday.

Old Hather had also reported to me that what this person said about Gorebest's tax corruption was corroborated by others and was largely true.

Turning the next corner, a group of people blocked the middle of the road ahead.

It's them!

I held my breath and retreated into the shadows.

"Scarface" and some of his subordinates were among that group.

"A bunch of useless trash! You were so quick to take the money yesterday."

The middle-aged man speaking gave me a strange sense of familiarity, as if I had seen him somewhere before.

It's... Baron Han Ting's servant! And some of the people being scolded were also faces I had seen yesterday.

"How much effort did I put in yesterday to get you to disguise yourselves as servants and sneak in? You lost him in just half a night!" the middle-aged man pressed in a low voice, "The master is still waiting at the villa. What will we report now?"

"This can't be entirely our fault," said a man with copper wire woven into his mouse-gray hair, "You didn't inform us beforehand that he was a Mage, otherwise the method of confinement would have been completely different. If I had known, I wouldn't have taken this job."

"You received a large sum of money; ordinary people aren't worth that price," the middle-aged man began to grow impatient. "Besides, on the day he entered the city, his title included 'Mage.' Didn't you hear it?"

The gray-haired man glanced at Scar Ear beside him, and Scar Ear quickly said, "Yes, but it was too noisy at the scene then, and I didn't hear it very clearly..."

"Useless!" The gray-haired man backhanded Scar Ear.

"Enough, you can discipline him later. At such a young age, he's probably just a Mage Apprentice level," the middle-aged man interjected. "From here to the South Gate, my master has already borrowed a large number of guards from other sirs to stand watch. Find him as soon as possible!"

"Yes. Their Holy Knight is leading men to search everywhere, along with the City Lord and the Flame Fist's people," the gray-haired man said slowly. "Now, more of my subordinates are in other districts drawing their attention. This has already exceeded the scope of the task you gave me yesterday..."

"Here!" The middle-aged man threw a heavy money pouch into the gray-haired man's arms. "Porcupine, since your entire Guild has provoked them, it's too late to refuse now. This bag of gems is enough for you to send more men."

"No problem, I'll go arrange it now." The gray-haired man opened the money pouch, looked at it, and tucked it into his embrace with satisfaction. "Steward Mara, once found, we'll send him to you immediately." Then he led the Thieves' Guild's people away.

So it was that Baron Han Ting who ordered my abduction!

The first time we met, he brought people to the market to abduct me, just for salt? Would he be that anxious?

Old Hather did indeed give a tiny bit of salt when he visited the nobles back then, otherwise, not so many nobles would have been willing to attend the banquet yesterday.

He even borrowed guards from other nobles to block me.

Such a big move means that there's more than one person who wants to deal with me, or rather, wants to pry the secret of refined salt from me.

Normally, they should have interacted with me for some time before doing something like this.

What reason made them so aggressive? I can't quite figure it out.

A black carriage pulled up behind the middle-aged man, and he turned to open the carriage door.

I saw that the Thieves' Guild's people had already gone far, and I quickly moved towards his back.

The moment he sat into the carriage and was about to close the door, I jumped into the carriage and sat opposite him.