Chapter 76: Ambush on the Road
“Have you had anything bothering you lately? I noticed you’ve been shutting yourself in your room these past two days.”
Gauss’s unusual behavior had piqued Sophia’s curiosity.
Gauss shook his head upon hearing her words.
“I was just reading and thinking about cultivation.”
Upon hearing it was about cultivation, Sophia couldn’t really respond.
Although her father had once been an adventurer and was somewhat renowned in the town, that was all in the past, and she herself had never paid much attention to it.
“Then good luck with that,” Sophia could only offer encouragement verbally.
She didn’t worry too much—after all, staying inside reading and thinking was surely safer than wandering around outside wielding a sword and fighting monsters.
“No, thinking alone won’t do,” Gauss said, after cramming some theory on spellcasting, he decided to go out.
Magic wasn’t conjured from thin air—while theory is important, after intensive study he still needed practical application to test and internalize it.
He already had a destination in mind.
So, after lunch, under Sophia’s worried gaze, Gauss—who had “behaved” for two days straight—couldn’t stay put any longer; he packed up, said goodbye to Sophia, and left Graystone Town once more.
This time he didn’t take on any specific job.
He paid a small fee to ride a merchant caravan’s carriage, planning to head northwest of Graystone Town to Wormwood—known as a small town centered around herbal industry.
It was slightly larger than Graystone, and more importantly, Andini mentioned there was a small gathering for apprentice magic users.
Apprentice spellcasters from nearby towns all converged there, and over time it formed a small, open organization.
This sort of small-scale gathering was just right for an apprentice like Gauss to broaden his horizons.
If luck was on his side, he might even pick up a spellbook or two he needed.
Sitting in the carriage, head resting on bundled straw, Gauss nibbled on a grass root, gazed at the blue sky, and brimmed with anticipation for Wormwood.
To be honest, though he occasionally spotted adventurers dressed like apprentice spellcasters on the streets of Graystone Town, he had never actually interacted with any of them.
Perhaps due to the diversity of magic, apprentices tended to be wary of unfamiliar peers.
So even if they met on the street, they’d keep their distance politely, maintaining a respectful aloofness.
In a gathering of apprentices, exchanges would likely be much more frequent, right?
Gauss guessed that would be the case.
Just as he withdrew his gaze and prepared to continue studying spell theory texts, a loud commotion came from ahead of the caravan.
The carriage slowed to a stop.
Seeing this, Gauss cautiously donned his gear and leapt from the carriage.
He approached a squad leader of the caravan’s guard and asked curiously, “What’s going on?”
The squad leader shook his head and stayed silent.
Perhaps because Gauss looked young, or maybe he simply didn’t know what was happening.
Gauss raised an eyebrow.
He didn’t like having no information—it felt like being blindfolded, losing control.
Through the experience of many missions, he had drawn one conclusion: no matter what happens, at the very least you need enough information to support a rational next step.
Thinking this, he couldn’t help but sigh.
If only he were a Bronze-ranked adventurer, he wouldn’t need to say a word—just flashing the Bronze badge would likely have the caravan members respectfully divulge information.
Even though he considered his combat ability top-tier among low-level adventurers—and to ordinary people his danger level was as high as a Bronze-ranked adventurer—the only difference might be how fast someone fell in a fight.
But in terms of reputation, without that badge he was at an inherent disadvantage; he couldn’t go around punching people to prove his strength like someone with a temper, could he?
The Bronze badge itself was a form of credibility, backed by the guild’s societal trust; whether they were rural villagers or urban nobles and gentry, they recognized the badge holder’s strength—words alone couldn’t compare to pulling out the badge.
Gauss took out his Bone Wand.
He strode toward the front of the caravan, casting Mage Hand to float his rapier beside him.
The Iv3 version of Mage Hand still could only lift up to 10 pounds, but its movement speed was faster, and its control precision was significantly improved.
Walking to the front section of the caravan, Gauss saw several caravan stewards and the head of the guards gathered together, quietly discussing something.
When the head guard noticed a stranger approaching, he instinctively tried to shoo him back to his seat.
However, one sharp-eyed steward spotted the rapier floating mid-air and following Gauss closely, and quickly held back the head guard who was about to step forward.
Among common low-level adventurers, apprentice spellcasters still carried a certain level of authority—if there was no direct conflict, most ordinary people, even slightly influential caravan stewards, preferred not to offend a spellcaster apprentice rashly.
Because one could never know what sort of cantrip a spellcaster might have mastered—many of them could kill silently and invisibly.
“This spellcaster sir, do you need something?”
“I want to know why the caravan stopped,” Gauss asked bluntly.
Seeing the head guard held back by the steward, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief, once again marveling at the usefulness of magic which had helped him avoid a potential conflict.
Without the aid of magic, judging by their grim faces and poor moods, an unpleasant scene would likely have played out.
The steward who had spoken earlier shook his head.
“Our forward scout riders responsible for surveying the route found a gang of goblins up ahead blocking the road—there’s several dozen of them.”
“Can’t we go around?” Gauss asked curiously.
If they’d discovered them in advance, couldn’t they just avoid them?
“No, we’re transporting a batch of special herbs that must reach Wormwood before their medicinal properties degrade—if delayed, the loss would be significant, and rerouting would take too much time.”
“We’ve taken this route over a dozen times before without ever encountering anything like this.”
Gauss paused for a moment and finally understood the situation.
Simply put, a group of goblins was blocking the road, planning to rob passing caravans.
The good news was the caravan had gotten intel ahead of time thanks to its scouting riders; the bad news was that there was no time to take a detour.
To detour would require returning along the current path and taking a much longer route to reach Wormwood.
By then, the herbs on the cart wouldn’t arrive on time, and the trading company would suffer heavy financial losses.
The reason they were so unprepared was because this route was widely considered safe—the caravan had taken it many times before without incident.
Now that Gauss understood the situation, he felt mentally prepared.