Lord: I can see loyalty.

The well-equipped enemy charged with extreme ferocity, ignoring the militia's interception and attacks on both sides. Like a pack of mad dogs that had smelled blood, they rushed straight for the center of the convoy.

"Their target is the Lord!" Ansquie roared, slicing down an enemy trying to bypass him with his sword. "Block the breach! Protect the Lord!"

Inside the carriage, Gina's hand was already on the hilt of her longsword. She leaned forward slightly, her grey-blue eyes fixed on the dark shadows outside the window, ready for battle.

"Gina." Vio's voice rang out from the side, stopping her.

He simply sat calmly, his gaze sweeping across the enemy through the window, a glint seemingly flashing in his pupils.

"You don't need to intervene," Vio said calmly, with a confident tone. "The militia are more than enough to handle them."

As if to prove his words, the battle outside the car began to change after the initial attack and collision.

Faced with the enemy's desperate tactic of abandoning defense and attacking only one place, the first few platoons of militia were indeed under immense pressure, and some were even wounded.

However, the discipline and resilience honed through long-term training came into play at this moment. The militia squads on both sides of the formation, which were not directly attacked, did not panic and pursue the scattered enemy forces. Instead, under the urgent shouts of their respective captains, they quickly moved towards the center and tightened their defensive line.

They formed groups of three, leaning against the carriage or their companions, using shields to support each other, creating small defensive spikes.

When the enemies charged forward, they were met only by an impenetrable wall of shields and sharp spears and swords that suddenly emerged from them.

"Hold on! Thrust!"

"Left side, surround!"

Short commands echoed amidst the sounds of battle. The militiamen might not be as individually strong as these elite ambushers, but their teamwork far surpassed that of their opponents.

Just as an enemy parried a sword slash from the front, a shield slammed into his neck from the side, followed by a fatal blow from a blind spot.

The enemy's relentless charge was like an egg hitting a rock, shattered instantly by the rapidly forming, tight formation.

The battle situation changed rapidly, and the ambushers found that they could not quickly break into the enemy's territory, while they themselves became entangled in the militia's encirclement and counterattacks.

Screams and the sound of weapons hitting the ground began to rise from the enemy ranks. Their morale was visibly collapsing. Once the momentum of such crazy tactics was thwarted, it quickly turned into panic.

"Retreat! Retreat now!"

Someone shouted first, and the remaining enemies lost all will to fight. They hastily abandoned their attack and turned to flee deeper into the black forest, attempting to use the complex terrain to escape.

"Chase!" Jimmy was covered in the blood of the enemy, but he did not stop. He immediately led a team of more mobile militiamen into the forest to wipe out the remaining enemy and prevent them from regrouping.

The battle came suddenly and ended quickly.

In just a short while, the forest road was left with only a mess and the corpses of fallen enemies, the stench of blood filling the air.

"Take stock of the casualties and treat the wounded!" Ansquie ordered, panting heavily, his eyes still scanning the surroundings warily.

Soon, several militiamen escorted a burly man with his hands tied behind his back, half of his helmet shaved off, and bruises on his face to the lord's carriage.

This man appeared to be one of the last remaining low-ranking members of the ambush team who was still resisting, and was eventually subdued by the combined efforts of the attackers.

"Sir, we've captured a leader," Xavier reported, a longsword pressed against the prisoner's neck.

Cohen pushed the carriage door open from the inside, and Vio slowly stepped down. His gorgeous clothes contrasted sharply with the bloody battlefield scene around him, but he didn't care at all.

He looked down at the prisoner, who, though bound, still harbored a fierce and resentful glint in his eyes, his mouth tightly shut, appearing unwilling to cooperate.

Vio's gaze lingered for a moment on the blood-stained armor and a faint, seemingly deliberately worn-down emblem at his waist, before he slowly spoke:

"Tell me, who sent you?"

Feeling Vio's calm gaze, the leader inexplicably panicked. He swallowed hard, avoiding Vio's eyes, but still stubbornly replied in a gruff voice in the Kingdom's Common Tongue with an accent, "We are from the 'Grey Hyena' mercenary group. We do things for money and don't know who our employer is."

"Whose money?" Vio pressed, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

"I don't know!" the mercenary replied immediately, as if he had been expecting it. "It's the rule in our line of work. Smart employers rarely show themselves; we only care about the mission details."

Vio ignored the other party, his eyes flickered, and a panel appeared before him:

Name: William Stanton

Race: Human

Age: 31

[Faction: Gray Hyena Mercenary Group, employed by Harold, the governor of the Kingdom of Rovia]

Hobbies: Swords, money, fine wine, forging

【Characteristics: Agile, cautious, intermediate level in basic swordsmanship】

Loyalty: Not loyal to you

[Status: Fear, Minor Injury]

He licked his chapped lips and quickened his pace to add, "The pay for this job is exceptionally high, and the employer even provided a full set of equipment in advance."

He struggled to twist his bound arms, gesturing to the fine leather armor on his body and the longsword that had been knocked down beside him. "They're all brand new, top-quality goods, all uniform in style. They even provided several military crossbows that we can't afford normally. They just told us not to worry about whether we live or die, and that it would be best to leave no one alive."

Ansquie scoffed, "That's a good deal, but unfortunately you've picked the wrong opponent."

The mercenary's facial muscles twitched, but he didn't refute, only saying in a low voice, "We admit defeat... but regarding our employer, that's really all I know..."

Vio ignored the other person and instead thought about the steward, Harold.

Clearly, this is one of the king's men, but it's unclear whether it was the king's order or Harold's own idea.

"Gather all this equipment," Vio instructed Cohen, then looked at Ansquie, "Is the inventory complete? What are our casualties?"

"Zero dead, eleven lightly wounded, and one seriously wounded," Ansquie said gravely. "There are about forty enemy corpses, and six prisoners, including this leader. The rest escaped into the dense forest."

Vio nodded; the losses were less than he had anticipated. He gave the dejected mercenary leader one last glance.

"Separate the prisoners and search them thoroughly for all their belongings, especially any unissued personal items. And, make sure they don't die," Vio's orders were clear and decisive. "We'll rest here for an hour to treat the wounded and repair the carriages, then continue on our way."

He looked up at the sky, fragmented by tree branches, and said:

"It seems that some people in the capital are not very welcoming of our arrival. Well, at least it makes us realize the dangers of this path from the beginning."