Chapter 5: The Incursion

"What should we do, boss?" Cindy glanced toward the left door, considering he was the person in charge.

"My young friend, if you truly are an intermediate warrior, could our caravan hire you? Please let us hire you, and the compensation will certainly be generous," Zomen said hastily. "However, young friend, you must at least prove your strength—for instance, with a Warrior Guild badge."

"A spar will be proof enough." Xia Yan certainly didn't have a Warrior Guild badge!

"Of course. If my young friend spars with me, your exact strength will be clear," Cindy nodded.

Numerous mercenaries were sneering without restraint, their words growing increasingly unpleasant. These crude mercenaries, having loitered around bars and inns since childhood, hadn't learned much else, but they were certainly fluent in vulgarities.

They laughed and joked about how long someone with Xia Yan's frail build could possibly last, guessing he would likely be defeated in a single move.

Or perhaps something even worse—might he be taken out in a single blow?

Just at that moment, Xia Yan casually drew his Ever-Changing Blade.

Cindy lunged forward with his sword, striking fiercely, while Xia Yan delivered a gentle slash in return.

Cindy's expression turned to sheer horror. He barely managed to block the blow, stumbling back several steps, nearly dropping his weapon altogether. His gaze toward Xia Yan was bizarre beyond belief, as if he had just seen a ghost.

Xia Yan could swear he had suppressed his power to a very low level.

"Good heavens..."

"What on earth?!"

"Am I seeing things?"

The roaring laughter of the mercenaries abruptly ceased. Every single one of them stared at Xia Yan with eyes dilated to the size of saucers, utterly incapable of comprehending what had just happened.

They had all witnessed it: Lord Cindy, a primary-tier warrior, faced with nothing more than a single strike from Xia Yan, had worn a look of sheer terror, stumbled backward an untold distance, and nearly dropped his sword.

Was... was he really an intermediate warrior?

To expect these mercenaries, who knew nothing of the world beyond wine and prostitutes, to accept a seventeen-year-old intermediate warrior—how could they possibly reconcile that?

After sitting dumbfounded for a long while, these mercenaries had no choice but to accept reality. This young fellow was indeed an intermediate warrior, and quite possibly an elite among intermediate warriors.

Instantly, countless gazes of awe and respect swept over him. These burly mercenaries wished they could throw themselves on the ground and lick Xia Yan's boots!

"Who was it just now claiming to be an advanced warrior? Go have a match with this young friend!"

"And who said they were a Saint-tier warrior? Weren't you acting so arrogant? Go on then!"

"Hey you, speaking over there! Didn't you say you were a Saint-tier warrior who became famous a hundred years ago?!"

The mercenaries simply started clowning around to ease the awkwardness.

And just like that, Xia Yan and Emilia effectively joined the caravan, earning universal adoration. After all, given the might of an intermediate warrior, the mercenaries couldn't help but worship him.

However, when the topic turned to the hiring fee, Emilia refused to budge an inch.

"It's only a ten-day journey to our destination. Three gold coins at most—that's already an astronomical price!" Zomen's plump face looked as though he were about to weep.

"No way. At the very least, nine gold coins," Emilia demanded unabashedly.

"Four... four gold coins..." If Zomen hadn't been eager to befriend an intermediate warrior and value Xia Yan's future potential, he would have loved to tell Emilia to get lost.

Four gold coins! Ordinary mercenaries couldn't earn that much in several years. Even for him, running a single cargo trip yielded only twenty-or-so gold coins, and after various distributions and expenses, he rarely kept more than ten.

"Eight gold coins," Emilia dropped her demand by one coin.

"Five... five gold coins..." Zomen's fleshy face looked ready to bleed.

"Seven gold coins," Emilia smoothly dropped another.

"No... no, I genuinely have no money left," Zomen was practically on the verge of tears.

"Forget it then. Servant, let's go," Emilia waved her hand and prepared to leave.

"Wait, wait! Dear young lady, let's discuss this, let's talk further," Zomen hurried after her with a flattering smile.

In the end, the two parties settled on a price of six gold coins, which, for Zomen, felt like a severe hemorrhage of wealth.

Five days later.

Over the past five days, they had passed through several outposts, mostly small towns with populations ranging from tens of thousands to over a hundred thousand. Although these places weren't large, they at least offered the necessary provisions.

It was worth mentioning that after passing through the very first town, Emilia had Xia Yan take out some items to sell. Although they weren't particularly valuable, the sale fetched several hundred gold coins, so they wouldn't have to worry about expenses in the future.

In her own words, the few measly gold coins offered by that penny-pincher of a merchant were completely useless!

Every time they passed through a town, Xia Yan would visit the Warrior Guild to purchase various martial arts manuals and secret techniques. Most of these techniques required battle qi to achieve their full potential, but since Xia Yan was an inheritor of the Thousand-School Tradition, his study of martial arts focused not on the rigid forms, but on their underlying spirit and intent.

In certain aspects, the martial arts of this other world possessed unique strengths that surpassed those of the Earth Federation, and their refined nuances were sometimes breathtaking. Within the Earth Federation, ancient martial arts were largely designed for combat against human opponents.

On the Star Continent, however, warriors developed battle techniques primarily for hunting magical beasts, meaning the stances naturally differed vastly from those of the Earth Federation.

For Xia Yan, this proved to be profoundly beneficial.

On this day, the caravan continued its journey.

"Um, Eldest Miss, could I ask you for a favor!" The bald mercenary smiled sheepishly as he looked at Emilia.

Xia Yan glanced toward the carriage, feeling quite speechless. He had no idea where this pure-blood managed to find the amusement in toying with these mercenaries all day long. Still, it was a case of one willing to beat and the other willing to be beaten!

To put it plainly, perhaps due to her youth, she had a particular fondness for practical jokes.

"What is it?" Emilia asked.

"Look, this is just a little token of my sincerity!" The bald mercenary grinned ingratiatingly, handing over a local specialty—a fruit resembling an apple.

Emilia accepted it swiftly and promptly tossed it to Xia Yan.

For a pure-blood who had discarded even Truman's giant axe like garbage, the fact that she actually accepted a bag of fruit was inherently suspicious.

"Out with it!" Emilia cast a sidelong glance into the distance.

"Eldest Miss, do you think you could ask Mr. Xia Yan to give me a few pointers on swordsmanship? I'd love to become a primary-tier warrior too!" The bald mercenary looked pitiful.

"Sigh," Emilia let out a soft sigh. "Baldy, oh Baldy, your talent is just so-so. No matter how much guidance you receive, becoming a primary-tier warrior is simply impossible. Tell me, how many years have you been a trainee warrior?"

"Se... seventeen years!" The bald mercenary flushed red.

"Only seventeen years? If you work a bit harder, you'll probably manage to break through in twenty-seven years," Emilia waved her hand to dismiss him.

"But... but I've got a bad feeling about this!" The bald mercenary grumbled in depression.

"Fine, fine!" Emilia made a wry face. Since she had accepted someone's gift, making Xia Yan do a little work was no big deal, especially since she wouldn't have to lift a finger herself.

"Hey you, go teach him some swordsmanship for ten minutes," Emilia waved at Xia Yan in the distance. "And brew some tea for this young lady right after!"

Emilia sprawled comfortably inside the carriage, looking entirely at ease.

Xia Yan felt a twitch of annoyance; it seemed he had been reduced to running errands every single day.

Though, come to think of it, after brewing tea for so many days, his skills had steadily improved to the point where they finally satisfied Emilia.

Seeing Xia Yan brew tea left the rest of the onlookers utterly speechless, sparking a flurry of whispers.

"Could... could this be goblin technology reached to such a level?!"

"I've handled goblin matchlocks before, but their power is barely stronger than throwing a rock, and their accuracy is even worse!"

"Goodness, how on earth did that water get hot?"

"Mr. Xia Yan, could you pour me a cup too?"

"Get lost!" Emilia glared at the mercenary. The mercenary shrank his head back and scurried away a distance of several dozen meters.

The atmosphere within the group remained quite harmonious. They hadn't encountered any blind bandits along the road, and they were fast approaching their destination.

"Ah, I haven't felt such a peaceful atmosphere in a long time," Zomen sighed softly. "During our last trip, our caravan was ambushed by bandits; a dozen mercenaries died, and we almost lost our lives."

"Times have been unstable lately, but we've had good luck not running into any raiders," Cindy nodded as well. "Still, with Mr. Xia Yan here, given his strength, even a hundred bandits would come and never return."

"Then those bandits must consider themselves lucky," Zomen chuckled.

"Right, probably only an advanced warrior could take us down. But any advanced warrior is a renowned powerhouse across the continent; how could they possibly stoop to becoming mountain bandits or robbers!" Cindy laughed.

"True, I suppose. Come to think of it, unless a Saint-tier warrior—" Zomen joked.

Yet, ten minutes later, he felt as though his eyeballs were about to pop out of his head.

A Saint-tier warrior? A Saint-tier warrior had actually appeared!

Zomen could swear on his life that there was no way he was mistaken!

If any warrior could fail to recognize Hal, the Sword Saint of Wind, then they might as well just go commit suicide.

Even though Zomen was not a warrior himself, he still recognized Hal's face.

There were only three Saint-tier warriors on the entire continent. In the Stein Empire, anyone who didn't recognize a Saint-tier warrior was either blind or a fool.

To put it without exaggeration, if there were only three celebrities on Earth, it would be natural for the entire world to know them!

"The... the Sword Saint of Wind?"

Cindy, a primary-tier warrior, felt a mixture of elation and dread in his heart.

He couldn't fathom why such a Saint-tier powerhouse had come to this place.

A Saint-tier!

Across the entire continent, there were only three publicly known Saint-tier powerhouses.

The man before them, Hal the Sword Saint of Wind, was the youngest Saint-tier powerhouse. There were even rumors that, owing to his youth and greater potential, he was currently the strongest Saint-tier warrior on the continent.

It was glaringly obvious that everyone in the caravan wore an expression of intense worship. Merely catching a glimpse of the Sword Saint of Wind was something worth boasting about for a lifetime!

Why was this Mr. Hal heading toward their caravan? What could he possibly want?

Were they just passing by by coincidence?

Or was there some other reason?

Could there really be such a coincidence in this world?!

This was one of the three publicly acknowledged Saint-tier warriors on the entire continent!