Chapter 33: Could It Be That My Charm Has Returned?
"Just one person."
Without needing to look, relying solely on the vibrations transmitted through the dragon carriage, the scents in the air, and the changes in the surrounding temperature, Joshua knew the cause of the dragon carriage's halt. It was because a person had collided with the ground dragon pulling the carriage at the front. The powerful impact had stunned the dragon beast, causing it to temporarily lose consciousness.
The ground dragons typically used to pull dragon carriages were hybrid descendants of triceratops sword dragons and stone rhino dragons. After centuries of bloodline selection by the various races of the Mycroft Continent, this type of hybrid dragon, usually over ten meters tall, had nearly become a new race. It was robust in build, gentle in temperament, possessed great endurance, and its massive size and thick armor made it unafraid of ordinary magical beast attacks.
The strength of a ground dragon actually surpassed that of many natural primordial realm dragons. Powerful nations would often train ground dragon knights as vanguard assault forces. However, in the previous life, due to the dragon calamity, many docile ground dragons reverted to their savage nature. Moreover, their habitats were all located near cities, so when they went berserk, they caused immense destruction. Since then, no faction dared to raise ground dragons, and even dragon carriage merchant caravans became much rarer.
In this life, because Joshua had developed a vaccine for the mad dragon plague very early on, the harm caused by the plague was far less severe than in his previous life. As a result, ground dragons remained an indispensable part of the Mycroft races.
The ground dragon raised by this dragon carriage caravan, named White Sprout, was already an adult. Relying solely on its size and carapace, it possessed the strength of a Silver High-rank. A human who could stun it with a single collision was certainly around Mid-Gold Rank in strength.
"What's going on?"
Dusting off the ash on his sleeves, Joshua stood up with some confusion, preparing to go out and see the situation. He had noticed the man by the roadside long ago, but he never expected this person to attack the caravan. "A Mid-Gold Rank robbing a caravan—what exactly is he thinking?"
One must know that a Mid-Gold Rank could already be considered a leading figure in a region. For such an existence to rob a caravan was akin to a local legion commander turning to banditry—it was simply unbelievable.
However, Joshua quickly understood what the other party was thinking.
Since it was winter, the caravan's guards and owner were all wearing thick, long coats. Joshua was no exception. Too lazy to use magic to change his appearance, he wore a hooded robe with a mask. But the man standing before the unconscious ground dragon, confronting the guards, was dressed very simply.
This rough-looking man with a scar on his face wore a wild black short leather jerkin on his upper body. At his waist hung two sharp curved blades, and around his neck was a necklace made of various animal teeth of different sizes. On his forehead was tattooed a roaring bear's head, marking him as a barbarian warrior.
Due to their professional ethics, the caravan's guards trembled as they confronted this barbarian warrior. But everyone knew that someone who could knock out a ground dragon with a single blow was definitely not someone they could handle. The caravan owner was currently trying to communicate with the other party, willing to offer money and some goods in exchange for the caravan's safety.
Generally speaking, as long as one was willing to hand over money, the vast majority of bandits and robbers would not deliberately kill people. After all, indiscriminate killing did nothing but put a bounty on one's head. But this barbarian warrior just silently shook his head, completely refusing to communicate with the caravan leader.
Suddenly, he turned his head and looked at Joshua, who had just stepped out from the rear compartment of the dragon carriage. His cyan eyes burned with fervor.
So he's here for me.
Meeting his gaze, the warrior immediately understood this point.
But that made it even stranger. Joshua frowned. If the other party were a Five-Colored Dragon Clan member or a cultist who had learned of his solo travel and sent an assassin, then the strength should at least be around Ultimate High-rank. In other words, they would need to dispatch several High Priests. No matter how many Gold-rank existences there were, they couldn't stop him when he went all out. This should have been clear to everyone after the battle at the Holy Mountain.
Just a single Mid-Gold Rank... This was almost an insult. Joshua felt no fluctuation in his heart, and even felt a bit amused.
"Lord!"
But reality always defied expectations. Upon seeing Joshua, this barbarian warrior did not attack. Instead, he immediately knelt on one knee and then saluted the warrior respectfully according to barbarian tradition. He spoke in broken Common Tongue with fervor: "Please give me a chance to challenge you!"
Including the warrior, the entire caravan was stunned for a moment. The caravan owner, a middle-aged Northerner with gray hair, and his guards all turned to look at Joshua, then immediately lowered their eyes, not daring to meet the warrior's gaze.
Although this middle-aged man had long known that this guest, who always covered his face and gave off an inexplicable sense of dread, was certainly no simple person, he never expected that his identity was so great that even a Mid-Gold Rank barbarian warrior would be so respectful. For a moment, he didn't know what to do and could only tremble as he retreated with his guards to the side, making space for the two.
"You want to challenge me?" Joshua truly didn't know what to say at this point. He walked forward slowly and gestured for the caravan members to continue retreating. The warrior looked at the other with some amusement: "Are you sure you know who I am?"
"Of course, Lord!" the barbarian said loudly, his tone filled with intense fervor: "Precisely because I know it's you, I deliberately waited here!"
"Very well."
Glancing sideways at the surrounding, panicked caravan members, which included quite a few women and children, Joshua felt some doubt but knew this was not the time for questions. He shook his head and said, "Not here. Go to the woods beside."
With those words, the warrior's figure disappeared, and the barbarian warrior, overjoyed, immediately rose and transformed into a black gale, sprinting toward the forest on the right.
Nearly a minute later, in the center of an ordinary forest at the border between Moldova and Moldavia, two figures appeared.
Lowering his hood, Joshua looked at the barbarian warrior before him, whose expression was still one of excitement, unchanged. He asked directly, "How did you know I was taking this carriage to Moldova?"
Clearly, this barbarian knew the warrior's identity, but he was cautious enough not to reveal Joshua's name in front of the caravan.
"My name is Rando, from the Korwa Swamp in the southwest of the continent." Upon seeing the warrior's face, the barbarian warrior's attitude became even more respectful. He drew the twin blades from his waist and thrust them into the snow before him, indicating he had no ill intentions. This barbarian named Rando said loudly, "Lord, I was fortunate enough to witness your combat stance with my own eyes at the Holy Mountain..."
Since Rando's Common Tongue was not very good, Joshua only understood the gist, but the meaning was conveyed.
For this, the warrior let out a deep sigh.
This barbarian warrior before him was, in a sense, an admirer of his.
Due to its proximity to the Far Sea Holy Mountain, almost all living beings in the Far South believed in the Seven Gods. The barbarian tribes of the Korwa Swamp were no exception. As one of the strongest warriors in his tribe, Rando had long answered the call to go to the Holy Mountain to resist the mad dragons. He had witnessed Joshua's series of battles on the Holy Mountain with his own eyes.
Barbarians who worshipped strength were almost instantly captivated by the warrior's power. As for what happened next, it needed no further explanation. Rando, a man of action, set off for the Northern lands, ready to follow this strongman in his heart.
As for how he knew Joshua's itinerary, it was a coincidence. When he had just arrived at the main city of Moldavia, he happened to see the dragon carriage the warrior was taking departing for Moldova. Although Joshua had restrained his aura and power, the barbarian warrior could easily distinguish anyone's unique scent. So he followed the carriage tracks all the way, then, while the caravan was resting, circled around to the front, stopped the carriage, and challenged Joshua.
Most barbarian customs were simple: to follow someone, one must launch a full-force challenge against that person. Rando wanted to experience the warrior's power firsthand.
"Quite a straightforward personality..."
Joshua sighed. He gazed at the barbarian warrior before him, who had already picked up his twin blades and was poised to strike. He said seriously, "I accept your challenge, but you are too weak."
"It doesn't matter, Lord Count!"
Rando swung his twin blades in the air. The two iron-gray weapons cut through the atmosphere, leaving a red trail in the air—the light of sparks from rapid steel friction. The piercing hum shook the snow off the branches of trees within hundreds of meters. The barbarian warrior's muscles tensed all over, eager to try: "Please use your full strength!"
The warrior blinked and clenched his fist.
"Alright."
In the distance, the White Sprout merchant caravan, which had just woken the ground dragon and was hurriedly preparing to leave, suddenly heard a loud noise.
The sound was so immense that even thunder could not compare. It effortlessly spread to the forest several kilometers away, showing no signs of weakening.
The various wild beasts that had been lurking in the forest, waiting for winter to pass, were startled awake by the sound and fled their dens in terror. An invisible wave spread in all directions, shaking the snow off the pine trees.
Instantly, centered on a point in the middle of the forest, all the pine trees within a radius of several kilometers shed their snow, returning to green, creating a perfect green circle on the originally pale earth.
...
When Rando woke from his unconsciousness, he saw Joshua sitting by a campfire, roasting several wild boar legs.
The skin of the roasted meat was already golden brown, sizzling with oil under the heat of the flames. Joshua sprinkled spices, and the aroma filled the air.
"Awake?"
Without turning his head, Joshua knew the barbarian had woken. He said calmly, "Your weapons are under the tree on your left."
Hearing this, Rando painfully twisted his sore neck to look to the left. The twin blades were indeed placed there. The barbarian respectfully rose, bowed, and then dragged his nearly broken body to retrieve his weapons.
Compared to his earlier fervor, Rando had now calmed down considerably. Although his gaze at Joshua still held admiration, it was now mixed with an undeniable fear.
No matter who it was, after nearly being beaten to death with a single punch, they would feel fear.
Joshua didn't care about that. He had no time to worry about Rando's thoughts. Although this barbarian was his admirer, he was also the culprit who had disturbed his vacation trip. During the hours the other was unconscious, the warrior had already thought of how to deal with him.
"After all, you are a Mid-Gold Rank."
With a casual flick, he tossed a wild boar leg skewered on a stick to the other. Joshua asked calmly, "Are you sure you want to become my follower? Why?"
In the warrior's previous life, many people had intended to join his war band because of his fame and strength, but this was the first time in this life. Although the barbarians of the Far South Swamp were indeed the type to admire someone because of their power, Rando's decision seemed too rash no matter how one looked at it. He wanted to know the reason.
"Of course, Lord."
Taking the roasted meat, the barbarian warrior didn't think there was anything wrong with his idea. He said bluntly, "As for why, following the strong is only natural. Besides, you are such a powerful dragon slayer. I want to learn the secrets of dragon slaying from you!"
While eating the roasted meat, Rando explained the reason. The Korwa Great Swamp had always been the habitat of the Far South barbarians. In that vast region, hundreds of barbarian tribes lived, and Rando's tribe was one of the strongest.
The swamp barbarians rarely interacted with the outside world, making a living by taming exotic insects and various magical creatures. Although life in Rando's tribe was not affluent, it was peaceful enough. However, the dragon calamity that swept across the entire Far South continent was beyond their expectations.
Several powerful black dragons inhabited the Korwa Great Swamp. They had originally coexisted peacefully with the barbarian tribes, never disturbing each other. Some tribes even offered them tributes. But when the dragon calamity struck, these black dragons revealed their true nature. In the dead of one night, they launched a surprise attack on all the barbarians in the swamp, killing tens of thousands of barbarian women and children.
Most of Rando's family were safe, but his sister lost both her legs. If not for the arrival of priests from the Church of the Seven Gods, who expelled the negative energy from the girl's body, it would have been difficult even to save her life.
Speaking of this, the black-haired, cyan-eyed barbarian warrior's face immediately twisted with ferocity, and the giant totem tattoo on his forehead emitted a faint red glow. But his emotions calmed quickly. Rando looked up at Joshua and said in a calm tone, respectfully, "My strength has hit a bottleneck. It's hard for me to reach Gold High-rank and fight those adult dragons... So, I want to become your follower and receive your guidance."
"Lord Count, I saw with my own eyes the process of your battle with the dragon. I want to learn that method of fighting."
With that, he put down the roasted meat in his hand, knelt on both knees, and presented his twin blades to Joshua.
Handing over one's weapons to another was a barbarian ritual of pledging loyalty.
"Yearning for strength, wanting revenge, so you intend to follow me."
Joshua slowly stood up as well. He walked to Rando's front, took the twin blades from the barbarian's hands, and then placed them back into the other's hands, indicating that he acknowledged the other's status as a follower. The warrior chuckled lightly, "Not a bad idea. At least you're honest."
Being acknowledged so readily sent a surge of ecstasy through Rando. An undisguisable excitement appeared on his face, but he dared not shout for joy in front of Joshua.
There were several reasons why Joshua so easily acknowledged the other's status as a follower. One of them was Rando's strength.
A Mid-Gold Rank barbarian warrior, even if temporarily stuck at a bottleneck, was still very powerful. After the Great Magic Tide, Rando even had the potential to impact the Ultimate realm. With some guidance from him, his strength might even continue to rise.
Besides that, Winterfell Academy was also short of a few combat department teachers. Nostradamus had always wanted Winterfell Academy to become a comprehensive professional academy, not just a mage academy. But for him, mages were easy to find, while powerful knights, warriors, and rangers were a bit more difficult. Rando delivering himself to their doorstep was just the solution to this problem.
"To be honest, I'm on a special trip this time. You can't stay by my side."
Picking up a stone from the ground, the warrior held it in his hand, and black-red battle qi surged. When Joshua opened his hand, the originally ordinary gray rock had turned into a black-red sphere, emitting an inexplicably dangerous aura. He handed it to Rando: "This stone contains my battle qi. Take it and go to Winterfell near Nissier Snow Mountain. Someone will arrange your accommodation."
"After I finish this matter and return, I will guide your strength."
The barbarian warrior was overjoyed. He swallowed his saliva, carefully took the sphere Joshua handed him, and tucked it into his bosom. Although Rando lived in the great swamp, he wasn't stupid. He naturally understood Joshua's meaning, so he immediately sheathed his twin blades at his waist and decisively took his leave, as if afraid the warrior would change his mind.
Watching Rando disappear into the forest, Joshua sat down on the spot. After a long while, he touched his chin.
"Strange... Just walking around, and I encounter a Gold-rank strongman who willingly pledges himself to me." The warrior muttered to himself, "Although the divinity Ogner gave me contains the power of luck, it shouldn't have reached this level, should it?"
Saying this, Joshua pondered for a moment, then frowned.
"Could it be that my charm has returned?"
Shaking his head, the warrior decided to abandon this absurd speculation.
He had already arrived in Moldova. Rando's matter was just a minor episode. What Joshua needed to do now was to first go to the main city to gather information about the cultists, and then head to the vicinity of Mount Modeth to visit Brandon and his wife.
Meanwhile, northwest of Moldova, Mount Modeth.
A handsome swordsman with dazzling blonde hair held a report in his hand, his face ashen.
"Is the information confirmed?"
He frowned and asked the ranger who had delivered the message, "Are you sure it's not a rumor spread by the cultists?"
"Of course not, Lord Brandon." The ranger looked travel-worn, with snow and ice on his eyebrows and hair. He said in an urgent tone, "My brother saw it with his own eyes... The forest withered, the grass turned to ash, all life was plundered..."
Speaking of this, he swallowed his saliva and said in a tone tinged with fear, "'The Witherer, He Er La Si,' has truly come to the Northern lands!"