The next morning, Roland quickly washed up and left his room.

Sean had been on night duty at the barracks and hadn’t returned all night.

Without his best friend’s thunderous snores, Roland had enjoyed a rare, peaceful night’s sleep.

"Good morning, Mr. Roland."

"Good morning, Teresa... Miss..."

Roland stared at yet another mountain of plates piled in front of Teresa, and he couldn’t help but fall into deep thought.

’Is that one Silver Coin I gave Uncle Peyton yesterday really enough to cover this young lady’s food bill?’

As Roland was pondering this, Gary emerged from the back kitchen.

When the hearty, robust man saw that the food he’d cooked had been completely devoured, a look of sincere joy once again spread across his face.

"Ah, Roland, you’re up! Come get some breakfast!"

"Alright, Uncle Gary."

Shaking off his distracting thoughts, Roland quickly finished his breakfast.

Patting his stomach in satisfaction, he stood up and said.

"Let’s go, Miss Teresa. The sooner we complete the commission, the sooner you’ll get your pay."

"Okay, Mr. Roland."

"Right, that Demon camp’s distance from here..."

The two had already reached the door as they spoke.

Roland vaulted onto his horse and held out a hand to Teresa.

Seeing the look of confusion on her face, Roland explained.

"The camp’s not exactly close. You weren’t planning on walking, were you?"

"I... I..."

Teresa awkwardly fiddled with the silver hair at her temple.

"Mr. Roland, my walking speed is..."

"No more talk."

Before she could finish, Roland suddenly leaned down, gripped her pale wrist, and with a slight tug, pulled her up onto the horse behind him.

"Hold on tight."

After his warning, Roland felt a pair of hands grasp his waist. He took hold of the reins.

"I’ll need you to give me directions based on the commission details."

"Understood."

Though her tone was still calm, the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her inner turmoil.

But Roland was completely oblivious to the reddening tips of the silver-haired woman’s ears behind him. His mind was entirely preoccupied with planning the Demon extermination.

’If the camp is in a dense forest like last time, fighting on horseback will be difficult...’

He wasn’t worried about the Demons posing a threat. His main concern was that his horse would be hindered in the forest, allowing some of the Demons to escape.

In Wuxi Town, where commissions were scarce, every single Demon was precious.

After all, to complete the promotion to Knight’s Attendant, he needed to slay a full one hundred Demons.

Letting even one escape would be a painful loss.

While he was lost in thought, Black Wind had already raised its hooves.

With a clatter of hooves, they headed out of town.

Not long after Roland and Teresa had departed, the tavern’s wooden door was suddenly slammed open.

Sean strode in, his steps heavy and his face etched with gravity.

"Hey, you brat!"

Peyton started to greet him with his usual jest, but the smile vanished the moment he saw Sean’s expression.

He handed Sean a cup of water and asked, his brow furrowed.

"What happened?"

Sean took the cup, drained it in one gulp, and got straight to the point.

"The Demons in Black Pine Forest are showing unusual activity again. Lord Beckham sent me back with a team to tell the townsfolk to prepare for evacuation at a moment’s notice."

"Is it that serious this time?"

Hearing this, Gary came out from the kitchen, wiping grease from his hands with a rag as he asked with a frown.

"Can’t even Lord Beckham hold those Demons back?"

"I don’t know the specific details."

Sean shook his head and glanced around before asking.

"By the way, Dad, Uncle Peyton, where’s Roland?"

"That boy left first thing in the morning with a pretty girl. Said something about going to hunt some Demons..."

Peyton trailed off as he noticed the sudden tension in Sean’s expression. Having fought alongside Roland before, he waved a dismissive hand.

"Don’t worry. With that kid’s skills, ordinary Demons can’t even touch him."

"Besides..."

Peyton added.

"I saw the commission. The location isn’t Black Pine Forest, it’s in the woods east of Wuxi Town. That’s more than a day’s ride from Beckham’s last line of defense. It won’t be affected by this commotion."

Sean finally let out a long sigh of relief at that.

"Good. When Roland gets back, please tell him to stay in town for a while. He shouldn’t go anywhere."

"Understood."

After watching Sean hurry away, Peyton and Gary exchanged a look.

Having lived through the Kobold attack on the village, they knew Knight Beckham’s warning was no joke. They immediately began to pack their things.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of this, Roland was riding Black Wind, carrying Teresa as they galloped toward the commission’s location.

In less than half a day, they arrived at the edge of a gloomy, dense forest.

A faint cacophony from within the forest made them exchange a wary glance. They immediately dismounted and crept forward.

Pushing aside the bushes before them, they got a clear view of the scene deep within the forest.

A huge, circular clearing had been carved out of the once-dense woods. The edges of the clearing were so clean they looked as if they had been sliced by a razor-sharp blade.

The exposed earth was unnaturally flat, as if crushed by some immense force. Not a single tree stump remained; the ground was as smooth as a polished stone slab.

In this clearing, hundreds of Demons of all shapes and sizes were transporting supplies in an orderly fashion.

Hunched-back goblins carried wooden crates, short Kobolds pushed crude flatbed carts, and towering Gnolls shouldered entire sacks of grain. All of them moved deeper into the forest.

The two had entirely different reactions to the scene before them.

Teresa stared at the teeming mass of Demons in the clearing, a flicker of solemnity in her silver-gray eyes.

Her slender fingers unconsciously tightened on the hilt of the sword at her waist.

Despite her considerable skill, she knew she would be overwhelmed if hundreds of Demons attacked at once.

Roland’s eyes, however, lit up with excitement.

’One, two, three...’

He counted under his breath, his tongue unconsciously darting out to wet his dry lips.

’A full one hundred and thirty-something Demons!’

The number made his heart race.

’I can’t believe a single commission will be enough to meet the kill requirement for the Knight’s Attendant promotion!’

But the excitement didn’t cloud his judgment.

He motioned for Teresa to follow, and the two of them silently circled the clearing, scouting it out.

After confirming there were no Alien Demons or other hidden threats, Roland shot Teresa a grateful look.

The glance made the silver-haired girl pause, slightly taken aback.

"Mr. Roland, there are just too many Demons..."

Teresa whispered, pointing to the Demon squads patrolling the sides of the clearing in a regular pattern.

"They’ve even set up a tight patrol network. Even if we wanted to sneak in..."

Before she could finish, Roland had already vaulted back onto his horse.

He hefted the Long-handled Axe in his hand, its sharp blade glinting coldly in the sunlight.

"As we agreed, you’re responsible for cutting off any Demons that try to escape."

Roland’s voice was steady and firm.

"If you run into trouble, shout a warning."

With a flick of the reins, Black Wind instantly understood its master’s intent.

The warhorse reared, letting out a sharp whinny, then shot forward like an arrow from a bow, charging the horde of Demons and kicking up dust in its wake.

The Long-handled Axe in Roland’s hands carved deadly arcs through the sunlight, each swing raising a spray of blood.

The goblin patrol was the first to fall.

They were cut in two by the whistling axe blade before they could even sound an alarm.

Severed green limbs flew through the air, tracing grotesque arcs in the sunlight.

"YARK!"

A Gnoll Guard finally let out a shriek, but its warning was cut short almost instantly.

With a backhand swing of his axe, Roland precisely split its throat.

Blood sprayed out, creating a shower of red in the air.

A few goblins frantically threw stones, but their projectiles didn’t even come close to Black Wind’s mane.

Roland weaved through the horde of Demons on horseback, his Long-handled Axe like the scythe of the Death God, felling Demons wherever he went.

A Kobold that tried to launch a sneak attack had just raised its Short Knife when a heavy hoof crushed its skull.

The clearing instantly descended into chaos.

The Demons dropped their supplies and scattered, but they were no match for Black Wind’s speed.

Roland cut through the horde of Demons like a farmer reaping wheat, charging back and forth. Every time he turned his horse, a fresh wave of screams erupted.

The sound of the axe blade cleaving flesh, the sharp crack of shattering bone, and the dying wails of the Demons wove together into a symphony of death in the clearing.

Teresa stood frozen, her silver-gray pupils constricting as she stared in disbelief at the massacre unfolding before her.

Her slender fingers unconsciously clenched her sword hilt, her knuckles turning white from the force.

’Is... is this really a level of power a human can achieve?’

She stared intently at Roland’s every move, murmuring to herself.

Every arc of his axe was terrifyingly precise, the timing of every Charge perfect to the split second.

The swarms of Demons, which she had thought would require a careful approach, were as fragile as straw before him.

What shocked her even more was Roland’s composure in battle.

There were no flashy techniques, no wasted movements. Every swing of his axe was as natural and fluid as breathing.

Teresa even noticed that in the instant he slew a Gnoll, Roland had the presence of mind to adjust the angle of his swing to prevent blood from splattering on his horse’s mane.

’Just how many battles has he fought?’

Teresa unconsciously bit her lower lip.

As a seasoned traveler, she had seen many powerful Warriors, but she had never seen anyone who could turn slaughter into something so... elegant.

Roland’s every move seemed to have been forged through countless trials, possessing an almost artistic rhythm.

Suddenly, a piercing shriek broke her train of thought.

A Kobold that had slipped through the slaughter was lunging at her.

Teresa was about to draw the Foil at her waist when a silver gleam flashed past.

Roland, having already turned his horse at some point, had thrown his Long-handled Axe, which pierced cleanly through the Kobold’s chest.

Its momentum unabated, the axe carried the corpse with it, pinning it to a tree trunk behind.

"Apologies, Miss Teresa. As per our agreement, you’re not supposed to get involved."

Roland’s voice drifted over from a distance, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

He spurred his horse over at a gallop and, with a fluid motion, plucked his blood-soaked Long-handled Axe free as if simply taking a tool from a rack.

Then he turned and charged back into the fray.

Teresa watched Roland’s blood-soaked cloak and his eyes, which remained as calm as a placid lake.

In that moment, she had a sudden realization.

This seemingly easygoing young man held far too many secrets for her to fathom.

Despite possessing the divine power of the Gods, which allowed her to perceive the pasts of others, this was the first time she had ever felt such an irrepressible curiosity about someone.