Chapter 26: I Want to Go Home

"Dick, to thank you for your assistance, come and serve me."

Even Dick himself hadn't expected Roman's first words upon seeing him to be this, and to say them with such casual ease.

He was stunned and said, "I am Dick the Betrayer, a Master Eater, with no place for me in this land."

Bo Ge's commotion had been too great, this time he had no choice but to take action; otherwise, if Roman Riptide met with trouble, the whole of Sige Town would face a catastrophe. They had merely fled to the mountains, which didn't mean they weren't afraid of the world's powers.

The Grand Duke of the Riptide Family might be old, but the Riptide Family wouldn't tolerate such an incident occurring.

Roman spread out his palm, his lips curving into a smile as he cheerfully said, "Then how about I provide you with a place to belong?"

Dick was startled again; this new Lord wasn't calling for his execution, but why was he repeatedly offering him a home?

Do you really know what I've done before? Aren't you afraid I'll chop off your head too?

Dick was greatly puzzled and hesitated for a moment before saying, "I have never considered such a matter."

He was wont to impute the worst intentions to others; this young Lord might appear warm and friendly on the surface, but he was thoroughly ruthless—still radiating warmth from the wolf blood on his clothes, splattered with plenty across his neck and face, yet still smiling in a way that sent shivers down one's spine—it wouldn't be out of the question that after he nodded in agreement, come dinner Roman might smash a wine cup, and five hundred axemen would spring out from under the table and then parade his head around as a prize.

It was a normal response; his actions had been atrocious, and only a decade had passed. The Black Iron Kingdom's warrant for his arrest was likely still in effect.

But he had to admit, he was tempted.

That sentence had a strong allure for someone who had lost everything.

Seeing Dick's hesitation, Roman knew he had a chance, and his foul mood brightened.

It was then that another figure approached from afar, holding a bloody wolf head in his hand.

Only then did Roman realize the battle with the pack leader had also come to an end.

And the person who had ended the battle was another stranger.

As this person approached, Roman observed his unremarkable appearance, average build, wearing filthy and tattered leather armor as if he hadn't bathed in years, his expression apathetic.

Without an introduction, Roman guessed the man's origin.

"The deserter Jet from the battlefield..."

Jet, hearing Roman call his name, was taken aback and somewhat at a loss, ultimately choosing to bow respectfully to Roman.

Roman continued, "Your martial skills are quite impressive, why don't you come and work for me?"

To kill the alpha wolf so quickly and emerge unharmed, he must be at least a Second Rank Transcendent, surely stronger than Aaron—Aaron met the standards of a Second Rank Transcendent in all aspects but unfortunately lacked some in terms of offensive power.

Jet, like Dick before, was taken aback.

But Dick looked at Roman with a strange look in his eyes.

So you say this to everyone!

Dick felt a mix of emotions within him.

Jet's response, though, was very direct: "I refuse."

"Said with such decisiveness, aren't you afraid I'll have someone kill you?"

Jet stepped back, "If you come to chop me... then I'd only have to flee to another land."

Suddenly, Shasta spoke up, "Roman Riptide, I've killed off all the wolves for you, you can let Gwivelle go with me now."

Roman glanced at her, "When did I agree to this?"

Shasta fell silent, knowing that Roman indeed had not agreed, but hadn't she also expended effort?

If I hadn't tied up and dealt with two wolves, even if Dick and Jet had come to support, at least half your guards would have died or been wounded.

Are you going to deny recognition now?

At this moment, another group arrived in this part of the forest.

Moor wiped the sweat off his forehead, the mountain paths were rough, and with his size, charging such a distance today meant he'd lose at least half a pound of weight.

But he had no choice; if Roman were to get into trouble, he could give up on losing weight for the rest of his life.

He rushed as fast as he could but still arrived too late; the battle was clearly over, with corpses of wild wolves scattered everywhere. It was obviously a fierce fight, but Roman was standing just fine, covered in blood, though not appearing to be harmed.

Moor was overjoyed, "Lord Roman, it's wonderful that you're unharmed."

Roman glanced at Moor. Earlier, at Galin Cottage, they had been attacked by a brown bear. Although there had been no casualties, seven soldiers were injured, most with crushed bones. He had no choice but to temporarily settle them at Galin's cottage.

Galin had healing herbs.

Moor must have heard the wolf howls, which is why he called for three guards and hunters with minor injuries to support him. For someone as timid and afraid of death as him, this was a great challenge.

This guy made it through.

At first, when Moor saw that Roman was unharmed, he appeared quite pleased. However, when he saw Jet and Dick, his expression became strained, especially when he saw the ragged girl hiding behind Dick; his face grew even more reluctant.

He knew this girl. The Agricultural Officer had some recollection of the residents of Sige Town.

And Gwivelle had also seen Moor. She was familiar with Sige Town's Agricultural Officer. Local officials had more immediate sway than distant ones. Even if Roman truly was Sige Town's Lord, Moor's intimidation over her was greater.

So, she hid deeper, trembling behind Dick.

Dick sighed and patted her little head.

Roman had also noticed the current situation, so he spoke frankly, "Let's discuss the issue of Gwivelle's fate now."

Shasta asserted, "I must take her with me!"

"You see, we can't agree on this." Roman pondered for a moment. "Since we all insist on having her, why not let Gwivelle decide for herself?"

Roman had to compromise. The black-haired witch before him was too powerful in combat, and he couldn't afford any losses right now.

Jet and Dick might not help him either.

Shasta frowned, realizing this was the best option.

"Fine," Shasta nodded and then looked at the little witch. "Well then, Gwivelle, do you wish to come with me?"

Suddenly becoming the focus of everyone's attention was an enormous psychological burden for Gwivelle.

"I don't know..." Gwivelle was terrified beyond measure.

She didn't know why both Shasta and Roman valued her so much. She was merely a bringer of misfortune, yet such fierce conflict had erupted over her, nearly leading to a fight.

She looked pleadingly at Dick, but the man who had cared for her so much turned his head away.

She then looked to Jet, but this deserter from the battlefield also provided no response.

They left the choice to Gwivelle herself.

In that moment, Gwivelle thought of many things.

She thought of the pained and desperate look on her mother's face when her identity as a witch was revealed, her father's hysteria in bed.

On that cold night, as helpless as a newborn, when the door was pushed open, her mother embraced her for the last time in grief. A bag full of peas was hung around her neck – the family's food for the next three days. After her father broke his leg, those peas had become crucial, and they would later have to borrow grain from Agricultural Officer Moor, even if it meant repaying twice as much after the autumn harvest.

Her mother then pushed her away in agony, telling her to flee to the mountains and never to come down again, never to let anyone know. She stumbled into the deep mountains, but the curse's power still lingered around her, affecting everything near her.

She didn't know how she had survived these two years – finding rabbits dead against trees, picking edible wild fruits, and gathering non-poisonous mushrooms. But that barely ensured her basic survival needs, and she spent every day in hunger and cold.

If it hadn't been for Uncle Dick giving her a huge bear skin, Brother Jet giving her a lot of meat, Grandpa Galin treating her illnesses, Uncle Bo Ge teaching her wilderness survival skills, hunters bringing her various living supplies, and her mother squeezing out a portion of grain from home to regularly deliver to her in the mountains, she likely would have died that first winter.

No matter how many difficulties, pains, and the torment of loneliness she faced, struggling daily for survival, she never considered leaving; she always remembered her mother's teaching – not to come down from the mountain.

So, could she now?

Was it possible now?

Really possible now?

Uncle Dick was here.

Uncle Jet was here.

Agricultural Officer Moor, the Lord, was here.

And there was the Lord she had never heard of before.

Ms. Shasta, who was willing to take her away, was here.

Was it all going to end?

Gwivelle lifted her small face, her eyes shimmering with tears, which flowed over her cheeks, making the dirty little face appear somewhat radiant.

She said, "I want to go home..."