76: Gaolibao

Sunlight pierced through the spruce forest, weaving jagged patterns of light onto the snow-covered road.

Today was our fourth day on Wan'an Highway.

As the hooves of the second wave of bandits today disappeared into the forest, George was wiping bloodstains from his spear with a bandit's headscarf. "These fools don't even know how to arrange tactical formations," he said, kicking away a rusted half-scimitar. "They look more like a herd of beasts being driven."

We collected the supplies left by the bandits: three chipped scimitars, half a bag of moldy oats, and a wooden doll clutched tightly in one bandit's arms—its crude carving clearly the work of a child.

The caravan master and the other farmers squatted in the shadows of the wagons, calmly awaiting the end of the battle.

At noon, white smoke wafted from the northern yams the old man was roasting on a slate.

The skins of these tubers were charred and cracked, but their insides were golden and soft, and when chewed with the pickled venison provided by the caravan, they had a honey-like aftertaste.

My return gift was a stew with dried wild vegetables floating in it, the broth made with tarragon seized from the bandits, and its rising steam melted the icicles on the wagon shafts.

In the distance, the majestic roof of a building vaguely appeared in the northern forest.

"That is Master Tyrantier's residence," Randall said, pointing into the forest, just as a flock of ravens startled from the treetops.

Under the dazzling sunlight, the spires of High Hedge pierced through the surrounding forest, its grayish-green stone walls covered in withered tendrils of maidenhair fern, which winter had woven into grotesque patterns on the walls.

"Last year, when I stayed in Gorebest, I heard rumors about High Hedge," Randall said, sweeping away the ice hanging by the roadside with his greatsword, the metal and ice crystals producing a clear, resonant sound. "Master Tyrantier has opened the bottom floor of his tower as a magic shop. It's said the shelves are filled with magic scrolls, potions, enchanted weapons and equipment, and various powerful magical items."

The Holy Knight's chainmail gleamed coldly in the reflection of the snow, and he deliberately lowered his voice: "But local mercenaries privately warn that the eccentric wizard does not like ordinary people visiting. The path to the tower is full of monsters. The wizard's servants—said to be Meat Golems sculpted from magical clay—will throw uninvited guests into the icy stream."

After a moment of thought, I decided to visit High Hedge while the caravan rested at noon.

Just Randall and I. Everyone else, including the Dragon King, remained with the caravan.

If there was any danger that even the two strongest fighters in our group couldn't handle, I could instantly summon the Dragon King to my side via the Qiankun Ring.

We galloped on horseback, and a dozen minutes later, we dismounted by the side of the road, directly opposite the High Hedge gate, separated by a large stretch of woods.

Leading our horses, we left the road, tied them to nearby tree trunks, and began walking due north.

When we were still two hundred paces from the main gate, the accumulated snow in the forest suddenly rose.

Six humanoid skeletons burst from the ground, their hollow eye sockets flickering with ghostly blue phosphorescence, and rusted darts shot towards the two of us.

"Clang, clang, clang..."

The darts were all blocked by Randall's greatshield.

Immediately, the Holy Knight raised his holy symbol, loudly reciting an incantation to dispel evil, activating his "Turn Undead" divine ability.

Under the illumination of the holy light and the blessing of the holy symbol, the six skeletons all turned into piles of bone ash, scattering with the wind onto the snow.

"Whoa, quiet down! Quiet down!" A scrawny Halfling man in a brown cloak emerged from behind a tree. "I'm planning the biggest crime in the world right here. You're walking so loudly, I can barely hear what I'm thinking."

"Crime plan?" Randall turned and looked at him, saying, "That's not particularly noble or, uh, legal..."

"Huh, this guy's throwing a fit because you broke the forest's tranquility with your voice?" I stepped out from behind the Holy Knight, putting on a mischievous impish look. "Of course, you can't hear anything you're thinking; you have to say it out loud."

"Alright, alright, the plan is this," to my surprise, the man actually started talking. "There's a very famous wizard living over there, and I bet his magical items are scattered everywhere... The problem is, he's sent two extremely vicious monsters to guard those things, and there's no shadow for me to hide in! Violence against those monsters is useless, nothing works.

There must be a way to trick those stupid things, but damn it, I just can't think of... Ah!

Damn it, I guess I'll just find an ordinary village to target instead. You can have those valuable things."

I thought to myself, is this person crazy?

High Hedge's gate was vaguely visible a hundred paces away.

The tower's outer walls were covered in wriggling maidenhair ferns, and every ten feet, an eyeball-shaped crystal monitor floated.

As we stepped into the alert range, the nearest maidenhair fern suddenly contracted, revealing a half-melted snowdrift at the base of the wall—where seven or eight frozen corpses of thieves who had attempted a night raid were buried.