As the carriage passed through a small vilge, Charlot Meburg discreetly left behind his fare without alerting the driver and quietly disembarked. Watg the carriage speed off, Charlot felt a slight sense of relief. He had never inteo head to the manor in the first pce. Having absorbed the life essence he had taken in earlier, he decided to slip away midway, which would make it harder for his pursuers to track his movements.

  This vilge arsely poputed, with only a few dozen households. A small street cut straight through the vilge.

  By now, dusk had fallen. Though Charlot possessed extraordinary abilities, he dared not travel through the wilderness at night. The world outside the cities was fraught with dangers, evehe capital city of Strasb. ibalistic demons, ferocious beasts, and other inexplicable threats lurked in the darkness.

  Charlot knocked on the doors of two vilgers. The first house responded with a gruff refusal to his request for lodging. The sed household, though also unwilling to host him, kindly directed him to Old John’s pce at the edge of the vilge.

  Old John was a hunter who occasionally provided lodging for strangers as a side business.

  By the time Charlot arrived at Old John’s house, it was pletely dark. He knocked on the door and made his request. A tall, burly old man opehe door and said, “e in!”

  To Charlot’s surprise, the old hunter was not alone. Inside his home was a small adveeam.

  The team sisted of five people: three men and two women. Their leader was a middle-aged warrior wielding a massive axe. He remained wary and did not speak to Charlot.

  The two other men were slightly younger, ihirties, each carrying military sabers at their waists. While a rapier might be an excellent on for dueling ireets, in the wilderness and in military settings, thick-backed military sabers were far more practical. These two were evidently seasoned adventurers. Their gear was well-worn and utilitarian, and their cautious g Charlot betrayed their experience.

  The two women were both very young, with unremarkable but pleasant appearances. One of them had the distinct golden curls typical of Fars Empire natives, while the other had short, slightly brown hair, suggesting some southern Old ti ary. Both appeared to be in their early twenties, only a few years older than Sylvie Martin.

  In the public academies, various martial teiques were taught. Iional institutes, breathing teiques were passed down. Even women could attain exceptional skill.

  For instance, Charlot’s former fiancée, Miss Sylvie Martin, had superior swordsmanship pared to his own.

  Many women, upon graduation, chose toveral employment, using their martial expertise or formally trained knowledge to bee adventurers.

  After all, the Fars Empire did exhibit a degree of gender discrimination in job assigs. Sylvie’s relegation to a rural registrar’s post was not an isoted case. Other Old ti nations fared er.

  The golden-haired young peared intrigued by Charlot. She asked, “Are you also heading to Yorktown because of the White Wolf?”

  Charlot smiled faintly and replied, “I’m just passing through. I haven’t heard of the White Wolf. What kind of beast is it?”

  The adventurers chuckled. The golden-haired woman expined, “The White Wolf isn’t a beast. He’s the fi demon hunter, a master at sying magical creatures. Retly, he’s spread word that he obtaihe heart core of a magical creature and pns to choose an heir.”

  Charlot raised an eyebrow in surprise. Demon hunters were a widely sought-after extraordinary profession. Whether employed by the gover, hired by nobles or merts, or w indepely, it was a lucrative and highly paid field.

  Two of Charlot’s uy cssmates had chosen the demon hunter profession, attaining transdence befraduation. Now they ear least ten flor per week, a source of envy for many.

  However, despite its lucrative prospects, the demon hunter path had two signifit drawbacks. First, obtaining the heart core of a magical creature—a prerequisite for employment—was exceedingly rare and astronomically expensive. Ordinary people had no access to it. Sed, demon hunting involved stant danger, as one had to face magical creatures in bat regurly. Though the pay was generous, the risks were equally great.

  Charlot had once sidered being a demon hunter but ultimately chose the Blood Glory path, reizing his ck of aptitude for bat.

  Gng at the five adventurers, Charlot quickly dised that none of them had asded to the transdent level. An idea formed in his mind. Smiling, he said, “I’m not ied in being a demon hunter, but I’m quite curious about the matter. Would you mind if I apanied you on your journey?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t pete for the ce to bee a demon hunter because…”

  Charlot snapped his fingers lightly. The air crackled faintly, and he said with a smile, “I follow the knightly path. I’m already a Transdent.”

  Though Charlot could not use bat energy, his seed of power remained dormant. However, simuting bat energy through Blood Glory was not difficult, as the two paths shared simirities.

  The five adventurers were visibly moved. After some hesitation, the middle-aged warrior wielding the giant axe introduced himself. “My name is Mason. Wele to the Giant Axe Adveeam.”

  The two younger men also introduced themselves. The golden-haired young woman’s name was Hannah, while the short-haired woman was named Homonsa—a h a distinct southern Old ti style that might seem odd to native Fars Empire citizens.

  Charlot, of course, would not disclose his real name. Drawing inspiration from Homonsa’s name, he fabricated a southern-style name for himself: Kainan.

  Traveling alone made one spicuous and easy to track, but joining an adveeam helped blend into the crowd, making it easier to ceal his identity.

  After joining the Giant Axe Adveeam, Charlot tossed a time onto the table and called out, “Old John, do you have any beer? I’ll treat my teammates to a round.”

  The Fars Empire’s time s were a dark red color resembling copper s, though they were actually made of a durable alloy resistant to wear and discoloration. Charlot had no idea what the formu was, but the s were incredibly practical.

  Old John caught the and said dryly, “Oime isn’t enough.”

  Charlot shrugged and tossed two more s. Old John pocketed them before turning to fetch the beer.

  Charlot was well aware that oime wasn’t enough for beer. His act was deliberate, creating an impression of someo particurly wealthy but exceptionally generous.

  Being poor yet magnanimous distinguished him from the well-paid but friendless former first-css civil servant and former chief clerk.

  Old John soourned with six rge mugs of ale, distributing them among the group.

  Mason took a mug and instantly warmed to Charlot, exg, “Kainan! You’re the best new member I’ve ever met.”

  He took a hearty gulp, his face showing immeisfa.

  Charlot ked mugs with the rest of the team and took a small sip.

  Old John’s ale was inferior to the sparkling apple cider Charlot usually enjoyed. Slightly bitter, it was more akin to beer, but its alcohol tent was signifitly higher.