CHAPTER 232: THE NORTHERN RAID [2]

For the northern route raid, Gabriel had decided to take only a small number of troops, consisting of both adventurers and militants.

He didn’t take any of his core members except Anna, much to the dismay of the others who had been anticipating this particular mission.

"Gabriel, are you sure you don’t want us to tag along?" Sophie asked, a tight frown on her face.

"Even though you’re powerful, you can’t do all the work all the time," Cassie added.

Gabriel didn’t reply immediately, his eyes fixed on the troops preparing to move. Then he turned his gaze to the two girls and said, "I know I’m not invincible yet, but capturing some cargo trucks shouldn’t be that difficult."

Those who heard him nodded, feeling slightly disappointed that they all wanted to go but were being held back.

"Besides," Gabriel continued, "the Broken Dawn Guild has a lot of enemies. Just in case any of them decide to strike, I want you all to protect the shelter and the refugees inside."

After stealing treasures from ChaosKnight, Gabriel had been anticipating retaliation, but none had come yet, which surprised him.

If it were any other time, the irrational IceQueen would have already stormed his camp with her guild members.

Still, he didn’t let his guard down. IceQueen appeared like a weakling only because she was always going against him. If she were to fight someone like Ragnarok99, the third strongest just behind Sophie, he wasn’t sure who would win.

’If ChaosCleric and IceQueen were to gang up on Sophie, who’s only level 50, it would’ve been disastrous as well,’ he noted inwardly.

Naturally, he didn’t voice these words. To be on the safe side, he decided to take only 30 adventurers—mostly mages and warriors—and 20 militants, while leaving everyone else behind.

Some time later, four large armored bus-like trucks, each capable of carrying at least 10–15 people, slowly left the camp in a straight line. Gabriel sat in the front truck while Anna drove.

The trail of vehicles raised a small dust storm, and the noise attracted monsters from the wild, but they moved too quickly for the creatures to keep up.

Watching from the window, Gabriel ordered through the comm-link for all militants to save ammunition and not waste it carelessly on weak monsters that wouldn’t yield much experience.

The first phase of the journey was uneventful and slightly boring. According to the report from Ragnarok99 and BrawlerX, reaching the northern trade route would take four to five hours without stopping.

Approximately five hours later, the first truck halted at the top of a hill overlooking a valley. Gabriel was the first to step out, followed by the rest of the troop.

He walked toward the edge of the hill and glanced down. From here, it was at least several hundred feet deep, with a straight, wide pathway that clearly led toward the northern camp. A few trucks—most likely belonging to adventurers—moved back and forth, but the road wasn’t busy.

Gabriel shifted his gaze back to the troop and ordered, "Bring out the tents... we camp here tonight."

"Yes, leader!"

A chorus of replies echoed. The tents were arranged in a circle around a large bonfire. Gabriel’s tent was purposely kept closest to the hill’s edge. Everyone settled in for proper rest before the mission began.

If the northern route was as routine as his subordinates claimed, Gabriel figured the next cargo truck would come in a couple of hours, specifically around midnight.

The adventurers and militants bonded around the warm fire, eating meals brought from the camp while talking and laughing amongst themselves.

Despite the energy in the air, Gabriel was distant. He remained at the edge, his hair blowing softly in the wind, his electric gaze piercing the darkness.

Maybe in the past, he would have joined them. But he was someone who had witnessed so much bloodshed on the battlefield that it had almost made him numb.

Moreover, he held beliefs not everyone would accept.

Bonding among comrades was useless. That was a mistake he vowed never to make again. Back when the game first merged with reality, when every action carried deadly consequences, he had bonded with his subordinates just like this...

...only to watch them die beside him moments later.

Because of this, he wasn’t fond of building intimate bonds with his troops. Their relationship was purely that of leader and follower.

’You don’t need to form an intimate bond in order to earn loyalty,’ he thought. He preferred instead to demonstrate his strength and earn respect through power.

Right at that moment, the time struck twelve, and Gabriel spotted a massive cargo truck, tightly secured by smaller armored vehicles and flanked by foot soldiers.

"Prepare for an ambush!" he roared, his cold voice echoing throughout the makeshift encampment.

The adventurers and militants immediately summoned their respective weapons and treasures. Gabriel narrowed his eyes, watching as the large truck drew closer.

Down below, the driver of the cargo truck narrowed his eyes.

"Why does the air feel different?" he mumbled absentmindedly.

His partner, seated beside him, sneered. "There’s nothing wrong with the air. Did you drink too much ag—"

BANG!

Suddenly, something crashed onto the roof of the truck, shattering the quiet of the night. It was as if a meteor had slammed into it, startling both the driver and his partner.

The two exchanged shocked glances and instinctively looked up at the roof, too stunned to speak.

There was now a huge dent in the reinforced roof of the cargo truck, which had been built with expensive, rare materials.

Hearing the loud noise and seeing the cargo truck come to an abrupt stop, the foot soldiers and the other vehicles also halted.

They all stepped out, looking upward to where the noise had come from.

What they saw was a tall figure with red hair and electric eyes, his cold, listless gaze screaming murder.

***

Thanks to all those who support Extraction Talent with their valuable Golden tickets and power stones; I really Appreciate!