Chenxi Territory was not far from the manor, only a few days’ journey by a fast horse.

Roland didn’t dally on the road, only stopping briefly in the village where he had once taken shelter.

Time had passed, and the village had long since returned to normal, as if the Kobold attack had been nothing but a dream.

There were just fewer familiar faces and more strangers.

His brow furrowed when his gaze fell upon the inn that had been converted from the Blacksmith Shop.

The image of Marco, the blacksmith’s ever-arrogant son, surfaced in his mind.

’That guy... he couldn’t still be locked in the dungeon, could he?’

The thought was fleeting.

Amidst the clamor of the villagers, Roland gently spurred his horse and continued on his journey.

Unlike the treacherous terrain of Black Water Territory, which was covered in dense forests and mountains, Chenxi Territory was relatively more open.

As he traveled eastward, the road underfoot gradually became wider and flatter. The forests on either side grew sparser, replaced by rolling hills and open fields.

On the third day after leaving the manor, Roland finally reached a small village on the border between the two territories.

However, the scene before him was completely different from the villages he was familiar with in Black Water Territory.

If the villages of Black Water Territory were always shrouded in an atmosphere of peace and tranquility, then this border village in Chenxi Territory presented a completely different picture.

Lopsided thatched huts crowded the sides of a muddy path, and a few sallow, emaciated children peeked out from behind door cracks.

At the entrance to the tavern in the center of the village, several drunken Mercenaries were harassing and jeering at a village woman, the blades at their waists glinting coldly in the twilight.

A few fresh sword marks scarred the tavern wall, and dark red bloodstains were faintly visible on the ground.

Several wanted posters were plastered on the notice board at the village entrance, rustling in the evening wind.

The occasional scream of a woman or curse of a man could be heard, only to be quickly drowned out by the smell of cheap ale.

The entire village was shrouded in a bleak atmosphere; even the watchdogs cowered in corners with their tails between their legs.

Roland scanned his surroundings. Sensing the malicious gazes on him, he immediately dismissed the thought of staying the night, whipping his horse to gallop onward.

The village was tiny, and in just a few moments, he reached the other side.

There, several dozen villagers were gathered, waiting.

They were clad in rags, men and women alike, all craning their necks to look into the distance. Their eyes shone with a hopeful light, as if they were anticipating something important.

Just as Roland was feeling puzzled, a group of figures slowly appeared on the distant horizon.

Their gait was unhurried, yet their speed was surprisingly fast. This contradictory pace felt strangely familiar to Roland.

In an instant, the group had drawn near the village, and only then did Roland get a clear look at them.

There were about a dozen of them, their bodies completely concealed by wide, white robes, revealing only the varied contours of their jaws.

Seeing this, Roland’s brow furrowed slightly. He silently reined in his horse and retreated to a hidden spot to the side.

When the white-robed group approached, the eagerly waiting villagers immediately swarmed forward.

As if on a pilgrimage, they all dropped to their knees in unison, stretching their hands forward and pressing their foreheads to the ground.

The corner of the lead white-robed figure’s mouth curved up slightly. He took a step forward and asked in an ethereal voice.

"What do you seek?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the villagers responded in a low, unified voice.

"Only the truth."

"May the truth endure."

"May the truth endure."

The two sides murmured back and forth as if exchanging a secret code, their voices so faint they were barely audible.

The white-robed figures then dispersed, taking out glass vials filled with a pale blue liquid from their robes and handing them to the villagers one by one.

The villagers’ reactions after receiving the vials varied.

Some carefully tucked the vials away, while others impatiently uncorked them and tilted their heads back, downing the liquid in one gulp.

As his Adam’s apple bobbed, the villager who drank the pale blue liquid’s once-dull eyes began to glow with a strange light, the change visible to the naked eye.

’Is that... an Energy Potion?’

Roland narrowed his eyes.

’The effect is similar, but...’

His gaze followed the emaciated villager.

Color was rapidly returning to the man’s gaunt cheeks, which even began to flush with an unnatural ruddiness.

’The potency seems much stronger than the Energy Potions I refine?’

While Roland was pondering this, the villagers who had received their Potions thanked the figures profusely and began to disperse.

The group of white-robed figures also continued into the village. It was then that Roland saw the pattern embroidered on their backs.

It was a massive eye outlined in dark silver thread, its pupil dilated to the absolute limit, creating a horrifying sight.

’Truth?’

Roland’s brow furrowed. He suddenly recalled the mysterious woman he had met in Songmu Town.

’Could this be the Truth Church that Teresa mentioned?’

Although he had his suspicions, Roland took no action.

After all, the purpose of his trip was to purchase Devil Fish; causing unnecessary trouble would not be wise.

Only after the villagers and the white-robed figures had completely disappeared down the village road did he lead his horse out from the shadows, swing himself neatly into the saddle, and continue galloping eastward.

As he ventured deeper east into the heartland of Chenxi Territory, Roland discovered that the villages and towns along the way did not become more prosperous, but rather more desolate.

More shockingly, in the mass graves scattered by the roadside, more than half of the piled-up corpses were the remains of young women.

As for the state of law and order in this land, it was even more appalling.

In just a few days of travel, Roland had lost count of how many groups of bandits he had encountered trying to rob him on the road.

However, these desperados all ended up as spirits claimed by his sword, their bodies lying silently in the wilderness, becoming one with this land of Chaos.

Compared to this situation, Songmu Town, which he had visited before, could be called an orderly paradise on earth.

After five days of traveling day and night, Roland’s tense nerves finally relaxed a little when the distinct salty, damp scent of the sea breeze washed over him.

Lifting his head to look into the distance, he saw a magnificent port city built by the sea gradually come into focus.

That was his destination: Distant Harbor.

Although this port city was surrounded by several Baronial Domains of the Golden Valley Kingdom, it did not belong to the Golden Valley Kingdom. Instead, it was part of the neighboring River Domain to the north.

Unlike the Golden Valley Kingdom, it had no true centralized ruler. Instead, it was jointly governed by several major merchant families and local minor nobles.

Despite its mediocre military strength, its uniquely advantageous geographical location made it a resource-rich trade hub, and it maintained good diplomatic relations with all the surrounding nations.

Shaking his head, Roland temporarily set aside the information he had heard from Bronson. He dismounted, took the reins, and silently joined the long queue to enter the city, moving forward slowly with the crowd.

As he drew closer, the outline of Distant Harbor became clearer.

Towering, off-white city walls snaked along the coastline, with several domed towers standing at key positions, flying flags with a gold anchor on a blue field.

Guards in dark blue uniforms stood on either side of the city gate.

The brass buttons on their chests were also engraved with an anchor emblem, and the sheaths of the Curved Sabers at their waists were inlaid with mother-of-pearl, a style that perfectly matched the harbor.

"Next!"

As the Guard shouted coarsely, Roland had already handed over the pass he had prepared.

The man twirled the parchment between his calloused fingers, narrowing his eyes to look at the Longsword at Roland’s waist.

"Mercenary?"

"Traveler."

"Don’t cause any trouble."

After carefully examining the seal on the pass and confirming there were no issues, the Guard quickly waved him through.

After passing through the heavy, arched city gate, the scene before him opened up dramatically.

The main road, paved with stone slabs, was crowded on both sides with shops bearing colorful signs. The air was filled with a mixed aroma of grilled fish, spices, and caramel.

On a street corner, several Merchants in exotic attire were haggling with local vendors, their coins glinting in the sunlight.

In the distance, the dock area was a forest of masts. Merchant ships from foreign lands were unloading cargo, and longshoremen chanted as they hauled bundled goods down the gangplanks.

’Now this is a place fit for people...’

Feeling the hustle and vitality so different from Chenxi Territory, Roland let out a long sigh of relief.

He led Black Wind on a circuit through the city, randomly picked an inn that looked clean enough, and after settling his belongings, headed straight for the fish market he had just asked a waiter about.

After passing through a few narrow alleys, the pungent stench of fish assaulted his nostrils. Roland frowned, but he didn’t stop walking.

Soon, he locked onto his target.

"Excuse me... ma’am..."

Looking at the fishmonger who was busy with her head down, Roland cleared his throat and spoke slowly.

"How much for the Devil Fish?"

"Devil Fish?"

The fishmonger, an older woman, didn’t even look up as she briskly stated the price.

"One silver and twelve copper coins each..."

Hearing this price, Roland, who was just about to pull his coin purse from his coat, froze on the spot.

"How... how much?"