80: Amn Caravan

On the fifth day of traveling east on the Coast Way, the morning light pierced through the thick clouds, casting dappled shadows on the snowy ground.

The fork in the road ahead gradually became clear, with a weathered signpost leaning there, its southward pointing wooden board faintly showing the words "Naskel."

Just then, a commotion broke the morning's tranquility.

"Careful!" a startled cry came from ahead.

A trade company was in chaos.

The right wheel of the leading four-wheeled wagon was deeply stuck in the mud, the thin ice covering it shattered, revealing the dark mud beneath.

Wooden crates were scattered everywhere, and several cargo boxes marked with the Amn emblem had split open, revealing exquisite vessels inside.

"Steady! Steady!" the wagon driver shouted hoarsely, but the horses of the second carriage were already spooked.

The sorrel horse reared its front hooves, letting out a frightened whinny, dragging the carriage wildly across the road.

The driver desperately held onto the reins but was thrown from side to side.

"Randall, should we go help?" I turned to look at the Holy Knight.

Randall narrowed his eyes, assessing the chaotic scene.

His beast-hide cloak swayed gently in the wind, and his right hand unconsciously rested on the greatsword on his back. "Have the trade company stop at a safe distance," he instructed softly, "I'll go check the situation. You all stay alert."

I noticed that the guards of that trade company wore uniform studded leather armor.

They were trying to right the overturned carriage.

A well-dressed merchant stood by the roadside, anxiously rubbing his hands, his deep purple velvet coat splattered with mud.

Randall strode forward, the holy emblem hanging around his neck gleaming in the sunlight. "Do you need help?" His voice was gentle yet firm.

The merchant looked up, revealing a round face covered in sweat. "May Waukeen bless you!" he exclaimed excitedly, "We're transporting an important shipment to Gorebest, I didn't expect..."

Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air.

I vigilantly scanned my surroundings and noticed unnatural movements in the icy bushes by the roadside.

Randall had clearly noticed it too; his hand was already on his sword hilt.

"Everyone, be on guard!" I shouted to our trade company.

John and George took down their short bows and arrows, quickly climbing onto the top of the wagon's cargo, the Dragon King hovered in mid-air, poised to strike, while Black Little Leopard and two Wild Dogs guarded both sides of the trade company.

Just then, over twenty figures burst out from the bushes; they wore tattered leather armor, wielded scimitars, and had black cloths covering their faces. The leading bandit shouted, "Hand over all your valuables!"

Randall's burly figure appeared particularly imposing in the morning light.

He single-handedly took down the greatshield from his back, swiftly drew his greatsword, its blade glinting coldly in the morning light. "It seems these bandits can't resist joining the fun today either," he murmured.

His heavy chainmail made a steady metallic rubbing sound with his movements, and his beast-hide cloak flapped in the cold wind.

"In the name of the Crown of Law!" Randall's low roar was like thunder, his right hand gripping the greatsword's hilt.

The five-foot-long greatsword let out a clear dragon's cry, and sacred light flowed over its blade.

Randall had already charged into the enemy ranks, each swing of his greatsword carrying the force of a thunderbolt.

A bandit raised his shield to block, but was cleaved in half, man and shield alike.

His chainmail shimmered with sacred light in the sunlight; enemy blades and swords only sparked against it.

"For justice!" Randall's greatsword swept, sending three bandits flying simultaneously.

His greatshield precisely blocked attacks coming from all directions.

On the other side, the guards of the Anm Trade Company quickly demonstrated their well-trained discipline.

After the initial chaos, they immediately formed a standard defensive formation.

Their studded leather armor glinted in the sunlight, and their longswords were neatly pointed at the enemy.

"First squad, protect the goods! Second squad, support the Holy Knight!" the guard captain ordered loudly, his voice steady and powerful.

Twelve guards immediately split into two squads, their movements clean and precise.

However, these well-trained guards still seemed to struggle in actual combat.

One guard tried to block a bandit's chop but was forced back by the opponent's strength.

Another guard successfully stabbed an enemy but missed the opportunity due to hesitation about taking a life.

"Don't hesitate!" Randall's greatsword cut an arc, cleaving in half a bandit who was about to ambush a guard. "This is a fight to the death!"

Only then did the guards realize the seriousness of the situation.

They began to take every enemy seriously, but still appeared clumsy.

One guard tried to imitate Randall's shield bash but lost his balance from using too much force, almost allowing the enemy to exploit an opening.

"John, George, suppress the flanks!" I shouted, riding on my horse, directing them.

Suddenly, I noticed a cold glint from the bushes. "Randall, watch out for hidden arrows!" I urgently shouted.

But Randall seemed to have anticipated it; he spun around abruptly, his greatshield perfectly blocking the poisoned crossbow bolt. "Cowardly!" he roared, and with a wave of his left hand, a sacred energy transformed into a light arrow, shooting towards the attacker's hiding place.

A scream came from the bushes, and a crossbowman in a black robe stumbled out. Randall strode forward, his greatsword raised high: "In the name of justice, judgment!"

The sword light fell, and the black-robed figure turned to ashes before he could even scream.

"For Amn!" the guard captain shouted, leading his men in a counterattack. Randall's strength had inspired them.

The remaining bandits, seeing that the tide had turned, scattered and fled.

Randall sheathed his greatsword and turned to the still-shaken Anm merchant: "Now, let's continue dealing with your cargo problem." His voice remained steady, as if the fierce battle just now was merely a morning stroll.