Wisps of cooking smoke rose from the Eastward Path, carrying the aroma of food. Thieves and knights alike felt the pangs of hunger in their bellies.

"How could that mercenary group be so strong!"

In the thieves' camp, Smith paced anxiously, head bowed.

Finks was clearly terrified. He sat slumped in a chair, hair disheveled, shivering uncontrollably despite his thick robes.

"Bro, that woman’s no ordinary person! They must have backup! They started with just over ten people—now they’re three hundred! We’ve bitten off more than we can chew this time!"

"So what do you suggest?" Smith snapped, glaring at him.

"Bro, can we still run away? There’s still time!" Finks looked up with desperate hope.

"Hah, run away?" Smith sneered coldly.

"After all this, you still think of fleeing? What about my men who’ve fought and bled for us? It’s too late for that!"

"Then… what do we do?"

"Fight! Wipe them all out!" Smith growled viciously.

"Brother, if we kill them all, we won’t lack money for three years!"

"They’re that rich?" Finks’ eyes widened.

"Of course," Smith said. "Even if they’re broke, her family isn’t. And if she has no family… she herself is worth money."

"Bro, that woman’s mine—" Finks clenched his teeth.

"Got a problem with that?" Smith shot him a sharp look.

"N-no…" Finks forced a nervous grin.

"Boss! Boss! Big discovery!" A thief suddenly burst in.

"Speak!" Smith barked, annoyed.

"Boss, we found a wagon! Packed with armor!" The thief, realizing his impulsiveness, hurriedly spilled everything he knew.

"Armor?"

Smith’s spirits lifted instantly. He grabbed the thief’s collar, demanding urgently, "Where? Take me now!"

"Yes, boss!"

Smith and Finks followed the thief westward into the woods.

Along the way, nearly everyone was buzzing about the wagon.

"This is unacceptable!" Smith muttered, displeased by the chaos—but his curiosity about the wagon grew.

Thieves greeted the two leaders as they passed. The tightly packed crowd parted before them like a curtain.

Smith saw the wreckage of a cargo wagon lying silently in the clearing.

Its carriage had been violently split open. Gleaming silver armor spilled across the ground.

"These are…" Smith murmured.

"Imperial knights’ armor…"

He crouched down, examining them closely by torchlight.

The armor before him wasn’t new. Some bore obvious dents; even the best-kept pieces had scratches.

A sense of dread crept over Smith, though he couldn’t pinpoint its source.

"Could those I fought earlier be Imperial knights?"

The thought startled him. If true, he’d made a catastrophic mistake.

"Turns out that girl’s an arms dealer!"

Finks’ words snapped Smith out of his spiral.

"Arms dealer?" Smith asked.

"Hmph, obvious, isn’t it? Look at this gear—it’s battlefield surplus. They sell it for profit!" Finks declared proudly.

Smith had to admit it made sense.

In some places, quartermasters sold military supplies for cash; soldiers sold gear out of desperation; abandoned battlefields were scavenged by travelers and mercenaries…

Such equipment often ended up with arms dealers, who sold it for profit.

These dealers, constantly walking dangerous paths, usually had strong forces—just like their recent enemies.

This theory eased Smith’s mind slightly.

"Maybe I’m overthinking it," he muttered to himself.

"Boss, what about this armor?"

A thief licked his lips, unable to wait any longer. He’d been eyeing the armor hungrily.

"You want it? Divide it among your men," Smith said carelessly.

"Yes!" the thief shouted excitedly.

"Brothers! The boss says we split this armor!"

"Really?!" Nearby thieves cheered wildly.

They surged forward, desperate not to miss out.

"Everyone gets a share! No pushing! No pushing!"

Finks yelled and jumped around, but no one listened.

Chaos erupted instantly.

Meanwhile, Aosufu, captain of the Volthus Empire’s knights, led his troops toward the thieves’ camp.

After hours of rest, the knights had regained their strength. Coins tucked in their mouths, they crouched low, moving silently.

Just as they neared the woods, a thunderous stampede erupted from within!

"Damn it!" Aosufu’s heart lurched.

"We’ve been spotted!"

Aosufu sprang up instantly, left hand pushing off the ground. His right hand drew a pistol and fired into the sky.

"Bang!" The gunshot cracked like thunder from a clear sky.

"Attack!" Shadows exploded from the darkness—knights hidden in the shadows unleashed their killing intent.

"Enemy attack! Aaaah—"

Thieves, busy dividing "spoils," panicked and scattered.

Aosufu braced for a fierce battle.

To his surprise, it was a slaughter.

Knights cut through thieves like butchers through livestock.

Aosufu charged like a war god wreathed in flames, shattering the thieves’ weak defenses.

Panicked thieves had no time to flee before he reduced them to ashes.

"Enemies are coming! Run for your lives!" Thieves screamed, their formation collapsing instantly.

"Damn it! Form a defense!" Smith jumped and roared.

But his usually obedient men ignored him now.

They were all running. What mattered more than survival?

The enemies’ rout made Aosufu’s killing spree effortless. He slashed through the crowd and spotted Smith trying to rally order.

"Got the leader!" Aosufu confirmed his target, a cold smile spreading.

"Flame Sigil—erupt!"

The sigil on his right hand glowed faintly. He swung his long blade fiercely.

"Boom!"

A torrent of searing flames erupted.

Smith, who’d just gathered five men, was reduced to charred remains.

"Brother!" Finks saw it from afar and wet himself in terror.

"My brother’s dead—why stay here?" Revenge never crossed his panicked mind.

Finks joined a fleeing group and escaped by sheer luck.

And so, this botched ambush ended with Smith’s entire force annihilated.