When Ata walked out of the inn, his wife Mysha was already waiting with two sturdy horses by her side.

This couple were not only husband and wife, but also a pair of seasoned professional mercenaries who had been working together for years.

In this age of frequent warfare, skilled mercenaries always found work to do.

Strong individuals, even if they did not join the kingdom's or empire's army, could still find employers in the war-torn places who needed their services.

Along with war often came looting, such as the ubiquitous bandits;

People who had just survived the fires of war and were struggling to make a living could always see these thugs looming around in times of crisis.

To prevent their lives and properties from being harmed, people in a village or town would often pool their resources to hire reliable mercenaries by paying them a fee for assistance.

Although the amount of money involved was not small, compared to the bandits' ruthless methods, people generally found it more worthwhile to pay for mercenaries' services.

Today, this couple borrowed the swift horses to make their way towards a village.

Mysha handed one of the horses' reins to Ata and quickly mounted the other one, saying with a light laugh, "Come on, dear, make haste!"

Ata nodded, leaped onto his horse, and followed his beloved wife as they sped off to the southwest.

Mysha's horsemanship was excellent, even on the wild terrain filled with odd-shaped boulders, she could deftly maneuver, maintaining their high speed;

Seeing her husband keeping pace behind her, her speed increased even more.

The couple rode for over an hour, crossing several streams;

After passing through two great mountains, Mysha stopped on a hilltop, pointing down towards the village below, saying in a serious tone, "The bandit legion is hiding in that small village down there. Let's be cautious, their leader Rando Fong is a notorious bandit who has never been defeated..."

Following her pointing finger, Ata looked at the village from their angle. It appeared like a small square, impossible to see what lay inside.

Nevertheless, Ata needed to voice his thoughts;

He said, "Wait, I hope that I can handle everything alone as you want me to. Wait for me here."

Upon hearing this, Mysha's expression immediately showed strong disapproval.

Staring at him, she asked in a serious tone, "Didn't we agree on this before? After fighting side by side with you for so many years, you still don't trust my abilities?"

"No, I trust you completely! I just believe that it's best for you to stay in a safe place until I confirm that I can handle the bandits on my own," Ata replied.

Without saying anything more, Ata spurred his horse forward, charging straight down the almost sheer slope, kicking up a cloud of dust;

Mysha, left behind, stood motionless on the hilltop, watching his retreating figure.

Below the slope was a small coniferous forest. Ata knew that once he emerged from the forest, the bandit legion's camp would come into view;

Therefore, his pockets were filled with pine needles he had just picked from the trees.

As the pine forest ended, he could already see the gates and walls of the small village;

But what caught Ata's eyes first were several large piles of charred bodies outside the forest, emitting a foul stench.

It seemed like he arrived a bit late, these were the bandits' gruesome remnants left behind after slaughtering the villagers.

The dead had passed, and the bandit legion hadn't even bothered to dig a sizable grave, lacking the patience to give them a proper burial, leaving them to rot in the wilderness.

The immense indignation was like a spark that entered the plain of Ata's mind and quickly turned into a blazing fire.

The entire town was surrounded by small walls two men high, and outside the town's gates stood two lazy low-level thieves;

when they saw a rider rapidly approaching from the northeast, they lazily blew their whistle, sounding a level three danger alert.

The danger alerts were divided into three levels:

a level one whistle is for matters of life and death;

a level two whistle signifies a more serious crisis;

and a level three whistle is for minor dangers.

Clearly, in their eyes, Ata was just a minor knight, who could easily be handled with the help of a few guards on duty.

Several unkempt thieves emerged from a small thatched hut behind them, looking disgruntled and shouting, "What's going on, brothers?"

Seeing Ata riding towards them on a white horse, they disdainfully remarked, "I say, brother, just a little rabbit, no need to bother us, right?"

"Hey, let's do this together and get it over with quickly..."

As these thieves were talking, the white horse suddenly accelerated, turning into a strong wind and rushing towards them.

Still in shock, they only heard the white horse "whoosh" past them;

and then each of them had a pine needle on their throats.

The thieves slowly fell to the ground, staring blankly at the sky, evidently not understanding what had just happened even in death.

A mysterious smile gradually spread across Ata's face as he murmured, "When you meet your companions in hell, you will understand how fortunate your way of death is."

Ata took the huge torch standing at the village entrance and raced down the street, riding alongside the houses, delivering fire to each thatched hut.

This was a relatively backward town, where almost every house was made of thatch, so the flames spread quickly.

The raging fire quickly spread behind Ata, and a group of bewildered thieves rushed out of each house;

when they learned that the fire was caused by the boy on the white horse, they did not even bother arming themselves and aggressively chased after him.

The thieves thought it was just one person and would be an easy job to handle.

Soon, the entire street behind Ata was filled with the pursuing thieves.

He silently observed and noticed that several houses were strangely quiet.