Chapter 4: 4 Who isn't a smart person?
"Deal!" Wes thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement to Tang Mo's bargaining, "However... on the way there, if we encounter bandits or any other trouble, I can't guarantee your safety."
"I am an adult now." Tang Mo wasn't counting on the other party to protect him at critical moments; the two of them had not yet established sufficient trust.
In fact, Tang Mo was more concerned that this seemingly strong man might get the idea to kill and rob him along the way, so he continued speaking while looking at the man, "I will bring my own people."
"Actually, I came here with two purposes," Wes noncommittally said, "The first purpose is to facilitate cooperation between Lord Earl and you."
"The other purpose..." he drew out his voice, looking at Tang Mo, "I am also quite interested in you. How about it? Do you need a mercenary with a bit of skill to serve you?"
"Aren't you one of Count Fisheo's men?" Tang Mo didn't take the bait but slightly raised his eyebrows, looking into the other man's eyes as he asked in response.
"No, no, no! I am a free man, sir." Wes made an innocent gesture, "Count Fisheo gives me gold coins, and naturally, I do things for Count Fisheo. After seeing you, I think you're a person with potential, and if you're willing to give me gold coins, I am even more willing to offer you my loyalty."
"Your loyalty sure is cheap," Tang Mo sneered and commented.
"Maybe," Wes tilted his head unconcernedly, "but as long as I take the money, I can assure you of my loyalty."
"We'll see. If Count Fisheo truly intends to purchase my weapons, then I think giving you a reward is only right." Tang Mo was non-committal, neither agreeing nor rejecting Wes's offer to join.
"It doesn't matter, Lord Tang Mo," Wes bowed slightly, then turned and walked out, "I'm going to feed my horse... It's been running all night, my poor little horse..."
In the evening, having slept for just over three hours, Tang Mo knocked on Roger's door. The man who a bit resembled an uncle to Tang Mo was just getting up from bed at this time.
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"Northern Ridge?" Roger looked somewhat surprised as he met Tang Mo's gaze, starting to warn Tang Mo to be careful, "The northern part of the kingdom is vast and sparsely populated, and the roads there are not easy."
"I've looked at the map. There are iron, coal, and copper mines, along with various other minerals, most of the materials we bought are transported from there... If we can cooperate with Count Fisheo, all difficulties will be easily overcome." Tang Mo caressed the Left-Wheel Handgun at his waist, full of confidence in his new weapon.
"Then, old man, I will accompany you on this trip!" Roger pondered for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak, "When do we leave?"
"We leave tonight," Tang Mo touched the Left-Wheel Handgun at his waist, saying to Roger, "We need to hurry, otherwise the workers will all be starving."
"Let's go then!" Old Roger went looking for his clothes without further ado. Knowing he had to prepare the carriage, Tang Mo went to the stables to find Wes.
The composition of the three-man squad wasn't complex: Wes acted as the coachman, responsible for driving the carriage. Meanwhile, Tang Mo and Roger were inside the carriage, conserving their energy.
This time, due to the urgency, Tang Mo wasn't able to prepare an exquisite box and had to hastily make a regular wooden box for the carefully crafted K1 Quick Gun sample.
When getting on the carriage, Tang Mo saw the flintlock pistol at Wes's waist and a longsword at the other side—this was about the best weapon configuration for a ranger wandering the world alone, and these details hinted that Wes might have good skills.
"I didn't expect you to travel at night. Honestly, Northern Ridge and the border here, that piece of Vicious Forest, the roads at night are not that easy to traverse."
Wes lit the gas lamps hanging on both sides of the carriage, warning the elder and the younger Lee as they prepared to board, "The thieves there don't talk about honor, and they're desperately poor, they'll rob anything."
"You'd better pray we reach Northern Ridge safely," Tang Mo looked up at Wes on the coachman's seat, "Otherwise, your twenty percent will go down the drain."
Having said that, he climbed into the carriage, followed by Roger, who then closed the carriage door. Wes displayed a smile on his face and, unconcerned, shrugged his shoulders. He then let out a loud shout and simultaneously whipped the reins, driving the two fast horses to gallop along the road stretching to the horizon.
The carriage left the town at supper time, speeding north under the last rays of sunlight. The road was not very smooth, causing the carriage to jostle slightly over the bumps and pits.
After entering the carriage Tang Mo promptly fell asleep; he had been on the move for too long these past few days and needed time to recover and rest.
The Vicious Forest stretched across the central and northern parts of the Leite Kingdom, reaching all the way to Northern Ridge. This complicated terrain and vast forest nurtured countless lives. It was precisely because of the minerals in Northern Ridge that the Suthers Kingdom planned to annex it through war, redrawing their border with the Leite Kingdom along the Vicious Forest.
The roads that traverse this forest are few, and often troubled times befall those who travel them. Bandits lurking in this area frequently rob passersby, so most of the time, the trade caravans would stick together when passing through.
Tang Mo's party did not have the time to waste waiting for other trade caravans to assemble before crossing the forest, as over a hundred people at the workshop were waiting for him to bring back good news.
Soon, when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the Vicious Forest loomed like a giant beast with its maw agape at the end of the road.
Alongside the road, trade caravans gathered to set up camp. They didn't plan to navigate the forest at night, so they stopped at its edge, lit bonfires to rest for the evening, and waited for daybreak to depart together.
A carriage lit by two gas lamps raced past these caravans on the road, and Wes, as the carriage began to slow down slightly, once again snapped the whip, the crack resonating sharply through the air.
His eyes, though not particularly sharp-looking, were fixed ahead. The road, under the gas lamps' illumination, only allowed visibility of the conditions about ten meters ahead. In this era, traveling by night was actually very dangerous, a risk stemming from various factors.
The road ahead grew increasingly narrow, and even Wes had to slow down the carriage's pace. He tapped lightly on the carriage body twice and only when the small window beneath his feet was pulled open from the inside, did he warn, "The road ahead is rough; we've slowed down! There might be danger, stay alert."
"What a nice moon tonight," Tang Mo remarked from inside the carriage, having just awakened from sleep. The previous three to four hours of jolting had somewhat rejuvenated him.
The carriage moved on, its two gas lamps becoming increasingly conspicuous in the dim forest. Meanwhile, atop a high ground, a pair of eyes were fixated on the fleeting lights in the forest, now hidden, now visible.
As the saying goes, distance is deceptive when gazing at mountains; what seemed close took half an hour to approach.
On the rugged mountain trail, a burly man suddenly rose, nocked an arrow to his bow, and aimed at the man driving the carriage.
Wes, at the reins, felt an eerie cold touch him out of the blue. His seasoned sixth sense, honed by years of living on the edge, kicked in, and he reined in the horses subconsciously.
"Clang!" A strong arrow thudded into the side of the carriage, its feathered tail still trembling unstoppably.
Shooting at a moving target like the carriage was a hit-or-miss affair reliant on luck since these days there weren't many Robin Hoods who practiced archery to the extent of hitting a target a hundred paces away.
The bandits used bows and arrows mainly because they could not acquire firearms, and even if they did, in the deep woods away from civilization, they wouldn't be able to produce bullets or have the parts for maintenance, making the maintenance-friendly bow and arrow the preferred choice.
However, due to humidity and poor storage, these bows and arrows often lacked accuracy. Hitting a target as large as a carriage was about the best they could manage.
Wes was forced to stop the carriage because a large fallen tree blocked the road ahead. Such obstructions in the forest were easy to produce—simply sawing down a roadside tree would do the trick.
As he dismounted from the carriage, he cautioned Tang Mo and old Roger inside, "Bandits! Don't come out; it's too dark to see how many there are."
"Swoosh!" Another arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in the carriage door. Tang Mo, inside the carriage, found an appropriate angle to peer through the somewhat murky glass and survey the surroundings, "Can't see the target, but there are at least two people."
The first arrow came from the front at an angle, and the second came directly from the left—the positions were too far apart, so it couldn't be just one person attacking in succession.
They could only rely on the gas lamps' light to see about ten meters away, while their adversaries hid in the darkness, well-concealed.
But Tang Mo knew that turning off the lights would actually put them at a greater disadvantage. The enemy, accustomed to this terrain and with more experience in night combat, would have the upper hand; he and old Roger were less accustomed.
So he said to old Roger behind him, "Take out the gun for the Earl too, load it with ammunition... keep an eye on Wes..."
He still didn't trust Wes, so his first instinct was to have Roger prepare for battle while also keeping an eye on this newcomer who was closer to them.
After taking the Quick Gun K1 from old Roger, positioned at a handy spot, Tang Mo carefully unlocked the carriage door and cautiously pushed it open.
Operating the over one-meter-long Quick Gun K1 was no easy feat inside the carriage compartment. Tang Mo couldn't open the door wide lest Roger lose the protection of the carriage door, nor could he manage everything inside.
Thus, he could only protrude the rifle barrel through the door's gap, ready to shoulder and aim. In fact, in such circumstances, it would seem more logical to draw his handgun, but that was his secret weapon, which he did not intend to reveal to Wes unless absolutely necessary.