'Why did the sound disappear?'
The question echoed in Sylvia's mind. But just as she was starting to think it might have been a trick of the sun — nothing more than a hallucination — the sound blasted back as loudly as before.
It was growing louder still. Definitely, someone was coming her way!
Sylvia's anticipation soared with every passing second. Her heartbeats sounded like drums, announcing the arrival of the unknown. This was her chance to escape this place. She couldn't lose this opportunity, or else she wouldn't know how long she'd have to wait on this road until another soul appeared.
Her only wish was that the other party harbored no malice.
For no other reason than the fact that, if they did, she would have to bloody her hands. Sylvia might not have the strength in her current state to deal with someone like Seraphina. In fact, even at her peak, she couldn't handle her.
However, the story would be different if it were someone ordinary.
Unfortunately, her situation didn't allow for casual action, or else she would draw unwanted attention. And at this moment, it was better to avoid any reckless actions that would disrupt the cult's plans.
Lost in her thoughts, the noise of the spinning wheels and horse hooves became as sharp as the sun beating down on her face. If uncertainty had previously hung in her mind, she now had full confidence that a carriage was truly approaching her.
'Just a little more...'
With every passing second, the noise seemed even closer. Sylvia held her breath, fearing it might startle the carriage or obstruct its path, making it even a step slower.
Her ears were strained with alertness. The sweat, trickling down her forehead, had stopped bothering her.
Until.
The sound was so loud that Sylvia could feel the noise of the hooves echoing behind her head.
'Here it is!' Sylvia internally exulted.
They were so close!
It was as if... They were going to pass over her.
'???' At that moment, a small glint of panic flashed in her eyes.
It couldn't be, right?
It was impossible for the carriage not to have seen her lying there, right?
RIGHT?!
"H-Hey! Hey! I'm here! Stop! Stop! Stop the carriage! Damn it!"
Sylvia didn't dare wait another second, quickly shouting with all the strength she could muster in her lungs.
This was no joke. Despite her body being tough, having resisted Seraphina's attacks, she was still, ultimately, human. It wouldn't be funny to have her head crushed by a carriage wheel. If this was to be her death, Sylvia wouldn't know how to account for herself to her friends in the underworld.
And
Despite using all her strength to shout as loud as possible, no one answered.
creak-creak-creak-creak…
The carriage continued its movement, the squeak of the wheels drawing nearer like an old, hungry animal seeking its prey. As Sylvia lay there, her eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the scene with her peripheral vision. Two horses were approaching her like messengers of death, pulling an antiquated carriage behind them.
The noise was now inside her head. Like two drums beating within her skull. Her breath hitched in her lungs, and she closed her eyes tightly.
The seconds dragged on like hours, seemingly endless. Her fate was impossible to ignore.
'Am I going to die like this?' Sylvia squeezed her eyes shut even harder, the lines of strain on her face becoming evident.
The horses galloped towards her, kicking up a cloud of dust. Some droplets of dirt splattered on her face, making Sylvia purse her lips.
But nothing happened.
They simply swerved.
'?' Sylvia opened her eyes, confused.
And at that moment, her gaze met the open carriage window.
An unknown face was there. It was a young face. With black hair and eyes, his face was propped against the palm of his hand, observing her with curiosity.
Their eyes met, and time seemed to freeze for a moment.
In a matter of seconds, those black eyes broke contact, looking forward again.
She was ignored.
Sylvia felt a mix of fury and confusion in her chest.
'Is he really ignoring me?!' Before she could flare up in rage, her rational side kicked back in. She didn't have time to be angry and quickly acted in an attempt to salvage the situation.
She would have to use her secret weapon.
"Sir! N-Noble Sir! Please, stop for a minute and help this lady in need!"
A strange voice escaped her dry lips. Part of her wanted to scream threats, promising to cut off his limbs if he refused to help. Yet her rational side intervened: she couldn't risk revealing her nature now. She resorted to the second most effective method.
Seduction.
Hearing her pleas, the man glanced at her again before deliberately turning his face away and yawning.
'?! Damn him!' Seeing the carriage pulling away, Sylvia gritted her teeth. Still, she didn't give up. "Sir, I am a defenseless woman in the middle of the road. I'm hungry, my body is aching, and I'm scared! Don't abandon me! Please!"
The man reached out, intending to close the window.
Sylvia felt more anxious. Should she use force?
"You can't ignore me! Please! What if something happens to me?! I'll do whatever you want, just help me!"
But no matter what she shouted, it was as if she were invisible.
creak-creak-creak-creak
Sylvia watched helplessly as the carriage drove away, the sound growing fainter and fainter.
'What the hell are you doing?!' Sylvia never imagined that one day she, a member of the shadow cult, would stoop to this level. She even used seduction and failed before she even began.
In all her years of life, this was the first time she had felt so humiliated. Being scorned by the Sword of Dawn was something she could accept, but being looked down upon and ignored by a common human... It was unacceptable.
If her sword were still in her hands, she would have sliced the carriage in two without a second thought.
'I swear, when I recover my strength, I'll find out who you are. When I find you, I'll cut off your head and feed it to the pigs!' Sylvia cursed internally, although externally she still maintained a vulnerable expression, looking at the carriage.
She was like someone who had been abandoned by her own mother.
However, just at that moment, when Sylvia thought all was lost, the carriage stopped ahead.
Not only that. After stopping, the horses actually moved to the opposite side of the road, making a wide turn.
They were returning.
For some reason, Sylvia felt tense as the carriage drove back toward her.
creak-creak-creak-creak
With attentive eyes, she watched the carriage door slowly open before her, and with a creak, the interior was revealed. Before she could peer inside, a pair of boots stepped onto the ground before her eyes, blocking her view.
Her eyes unconsciously traveled up the boots, past his ornate clothes and the length of his torso until they reached the top, meeting that same expression.
At that moment, for some reason, Sylvia felt like punching him.
...
Meanwhile, Reynard, who had stepped down from the carriage, adjusted his clothes.
He was oblivious to Sylvia's thoughts and didn't care one bit. Confirming that there wasn't a single wrinkle in his clothes, he looked down, staring at her.
Now that he was closer... her state was truly bad.
He couldn't help but think that if those injuries were on his body, he would be dead. 'So this is the power of magic...?' His eyes scanned her body, assessing her figure.
Her black hair was tangled with dirt and stray leaves from somewhere. Her face, pale as porcelain, showed signs of exhaustion. She was occasionally frowning, biting her cracked lips.
Her clothes were also torn, exposing bruises and areas with dried blood and grime. She looked like she had been hit by a truck.
This made Reynard feel a chill down his spine.
He didn't want to encounter what she had.
Sylvia, who was receiving these stares, frowned, but said nothing.
"She looks quite injured..."
Eleanor, who had stepped down with him, was by his side like a good attendant. Seeing the woman's condition, she couldn't help but whisper. Her expression alternated between worry and caution.
The woman genuinely looked hurt, and her condition might be severe, which made her want to approach to help her, but Eleanor didn't dare without Reynard's permission.
"She looks healthy to me..." Reynard casually murmured. Bending his knees, he crouched beside her body. "Hey lady, what's your name?"
'Healthy?' Sylvia didn't answer immediately. When she heard that, she felt her blood boil.
Her entire body was burning like hell. She couldn't move a finger without an excruciating pain shooting through her body. Her clothes were stained with blood as if she were leaking from everywhere like a punctured bucket, yet he still said she looked healthy?
'This guy...' Sylvia gritted her teeth, but put on a sweet expression. "Sir, my name is... Samira."
She replied with a vulnerable voice. Her eyes, as large as two headlights, seemed lost.
As for the name... she made it up.
"Samira?" Reynard smiled upon hearing this. He didn't like going back on his words.
If he told Eleanor they wouldn't help, then they wouldn't help.
But something on her body caught his attention the moment the carriage passed by her side.
He didn't stop because she was pretty, but Reynard's eyes were fixed on the sight beneath her clothes.
Of course, the focus wasn't exactly that.
Beneath the tattered linen shirt, the woman was wearing armor. The armor, which protected her chest and shoulder, had some cracks in the metal plates.
This was what caught his attention.
The armor was very familiar.
Reynard had an identical one.
That day, one of the conditions the original Reynard had demanded from the mysterious figure, besides the 'Beginner Knight's Manual', was an armor set.
It was necessary to know that armor in this world was a bit more complicated to acquire. To be manufactured, the kingdom had some requirements that needed to be met.
The personal blacksmiths of noble families, who forged their own customized weapons, needed to engrave their coats of arms on the armor, making it clear which family they belonged to.
This was a way to control manufacturing and track origins, which displeased many nobles, but besides complaining, they couldn't do anything but accept it. At least the minor ones.
The major ones didn't worry much, while the minor ones needed to acquire second-hand armor if they wanted to plot something.
Fortunately, everything found a way. This was still an order that would be followed by those who feared breaking the rules and being punished. Those who didn't care continued manufacturing it anyway, and the kingdom wouldn't make much active effort to stop them.
Even though, if caught, the consequences wouldn't be trivial.
And this was one of the reasons the original Reynard desired armor. Something the cult could provide would be far superior to anything he could find on the market given his position.
At least, much better than his money could afford.
Perhaps this was part of his plans for when he officially became a knight. It was as if he were planning his path in advance, and felt that acquiring armor would be the safest way to preserve his life against the cult while still benefiting.
Which was somewhat funny considering he died poisoned. His armor never left his chest and was currently gathering dust.
Every time he thought about it, Reynard couldn't help but let out an internal sigh. He felt a bit emotional, imagining what his predecessor's expression would be upon discovering his plan was useless.
Even when Reynard tried to be smart, he was still a little stupid.
'Truly tragic...' He shook his head to disperse his thoughts.
Now, he was the true Reynard.
The original.
And for that reason, he should redouble his caution. He didn't want someone else taking over his body, nor did he want a similar fate. The day of the meeting was approaching; it was necessary to take some risks.
And what was the connection between this information and the woman?
If she were a common, injured adventurer, he could ignore her. It wasn't good to get involved in other people's problems.
But the armor changed everything.
It was always good to be accompanied by people stronger than him when things went wrong. Even if they were part of the cult.
Reynard was going to a party where he didn't know anyone; it was thus prudent to bring a companion.
Though this was as risky as walking beside a tiger, it was still much safer than going alone. If something went wrong, he could push the other party forward and yell that she was his leader.
Fortunately for Reynard...
He had found a cult colleague.