Under the blazing sun, three hundred-foot-high hills formed a concave shape, enclosing a trade route over four meters wide.
This terrain had a simple yet terrifying name: Red Silk Valley.
The name didn't refer to a grain called "Red Silk."
Rather, a group of bandits with red silk tied around their heads—known as the Red Silk Bandits—were stationed in this valley. Hence, it was called Red Silk Valley.
It was an important passage between Vidia City and other cities, frequently used by caravans. Naturally, these bandits targeted the caravans.
Of course, they didn't attack every caravan. Those that looked too difficult to mess with were ignored.
Their targets were poorly guarded caravans. They would take thirty percent of a caravan's goods if it had a lot, forty percent if it had little. It was a comfortable living.
But today, the leader of the Red Silk Bandits noticed a large number of people entering his territory, many of them familiar faces.
These were bandits from neighboring hills, who normally only raided their own areas. Why were they all in Red Silk Valley this time?
Were they trying to drive him out and take control of the valley?
Had they forgotten that he occupied the closest pass to Vidia City precisely because he was the strongest bandit in the area?
As the Red Silk leader pondered, his scouts reported in.
A massive caravan of over forty carriages, with another twenty independent caravans following, was heading this way.
If nothing went wrong, the caravan would reach the valley by noon tomorrow.
Upon hearing this, the Red Silk leader understood exactly why the neighboring bandits had gathered.
That night, over a dozen bandit leaders entered Red Silk Valley and struck a cooperative agreement with its leader.
…
A long, serpentine caravan pressed forward.
But unlike the previous two days, today's guards were all serious and alert.
The scouts trailing the caravan had completely vanished last night.
They would likely meet again in Red Silk Valley.
From time to time, the guards' eyes turned to the most luxurious carriage.
Everyone knew why President Ross could assemble such a massive caravan: it was because Lord Locke was present.
A Level-6 mage…
Although slightly weaker than a Level-7, a Level-6 mage's rank was effectively one level higher than a non-Level-7 warrior.
To ordinary warriors, a Level-6 mage was practically as dangerous as a Level-7.
No, a Level-6 mage was even more terrifying than a Level-7 warrior.
A Level-7 warrior had to strike one enemy at a time. Even with extensive use of battle energy techniques, they could only kill a dozen or so.
A Level-6 mage?
One area-of-effect spell could severely injure or kill all nearby non-Level-7 warriors.
And how many Level-6 spells could a single Level-6 mage cast?
At least ten!
In terms of efficiency, a Level-6 mage could kill over ten times as many as a Level-7 warrior.
…
But because mages were so powerful, most were conscripted into the Frost Snow Empire's army to fight the Light Temple.
Ordinary people rarely saw mages.
That was why, once Ross secured Locke's support, he could confidently organize such a large caravan.
Other merchants trusted Ross—and Locke.
This was the deterrent power of a Level-6 mage.
Ordinarily, few ever saw a mage.
In the Frost Snow Empire, almost all youths with an affinity for water magic were sent to magic academies. Upon graduation, they were assigned to legions to fight for the empire.
On the battlefield, water or light mages weren't ubiquitous, but across a few squads, one could usually find a mage accompanying the army.
Some guards and bandits were retired legion soldiers—they were the ones who most appreciated the power of mages.
Time waits for no one. President Ross's caravan gradually approached Red Silk Valley.
The lead carriage stopped, and over a dozen guards ran ahead, weapons drawn, their expressions grim.
At the end of everyone's sight, nearly a thousand people stood clearly defined in the gap between the three hills, glaring at the caravan.
The commotion quickly drew the attention of the trailing merchants. After minor panic, Ross calmed everyone down.
Some merchant guards moved forward to defend the front, while the rest surrounded Locke's carriage.
Amid so many bandits, the only person who could break the deadlock was Lord Locke himself.
He had to have enough time to cast his spells.
Ahead, a middle-aged man with a red silk bandana shouted at the caravan:
"Friends traveling this trade route, we've dealt with each other before."
"In Red Silk Valley, the old rules still apply."
"To pass, you must leave twenty percent of your goods."
"However, today we have more visitors, so all who pass must leave fifty percent of their goods."
"Of course, all caravans who comply may safely travel a thousand miles on this route under Red Silk Valley's protection!"
"What? Fifty percent of our goods?"
The merchants were furious.
"What do they want? Take half our goods for passing one valley? Why don't they just rob us?"
"Calm down… aren't they robbing us right now?"
"What should we do?"
"Give up fifty percent of our goods?"
"Impossible! We'd lose everything!"
"Everyone calm down. They may be many, but we still have Lord Locke."
"Yes, yes, we have Lord Locke."
"President Ross, go ask Lord Locke what we should do!"
(End of Chapter 10)