CHAPTER 157: CHAPTER 157: OPPONENT_1

Lance found the abundance beneficial, yet it didn’t cause much of a stir within him.

In such a vast room, Gold Coins were always scarce. The majority of the space was occupied by various unfamiliar herbs and odd potions. The largest quantity among these were blue potions, which filled several boxes.

It seemed these blue potions were key to how the Heretics maintained operations here; hence their large consumption.

After ransacking the warehouse, he ventured deeper. He discovered an interesting room where a workbench was filled with all sorts of Alchemy tools. To one side, there were books and stacks of scattered manuscripts.

In this era, books were a rarity, even considered a luxury.

Without the printing press, all books had to be transcribed by hand. Ordinary books were sold for silver coins, and some were even priced in Gold Coins.

Books represented not knowledge, but status and identity; anyone wanting to show off their erudition would buy a few to display at home.

The only cheap books were the Church’s Divine Revelations. This was because they had a large number of believers transcribing them, and the faithful paid for their faith.

It wasn’t safe to stay long, so he simply tossed everything into the Exhibition Room.

With so many important figures dead here, one didn’t need to guess to know that Ovando City would undergo a major upheaval by morning.

But all of that no longer concerned him; Lance had already driven the carriage, leading them away.

He didn’t dare return directly to the merchant caravan’s encampment. Instead, he drove to a deserted riverside. There, he unhitched the carriage and pushed it into the river. The turbulent waters quickly devoured it without leaving a trace.

As for the two horses, they were too good to let go. To match the opulent carriage from the brothel, these were two well-fed, sturdy horses—hard to purchase even with money.

On the riverbank, the group hastily cleaned the bloodstains off themselves. Lance shook the water droplets off his hands and turned to William.

"Do I seem strange to you?"

He had noticed William’s expression during the carriage ride. Now that the immediate danger was temporarily relieved, he had time to chat a bit more.

"Is there anything you can tell me, My Lord?"

"Let’s walk and talk. The world is more complex than you imagine."

The group made their way back. On the road, Lance roughly explained the situation of their territory, though he still didn’t mention the exaggerated tale of a thousand years past.

He based his claims on his identity as one chosen through Divine Revelation, and on the story of the Flesh Evil God. He implied that what he was doing was saving the world, saving humanity.

"Ordinary people don’t know what we’re up against. So, when we chose this path and embarked on it, we were doomed to be misunderstood by the masses, let alone seen as righteous.

But I have high hopes for you. We’re all just trying to survive in this messed-up world, but someone has to bear the burden of justice and bring order to humanity."

These words resonated deeply within William, sparking an indescribable sense of recognition. He chose justice and fought against evil, but ordinary people couldn’t understand his seemingly foolish persistence. Now, there was someone who understood him. But the difference was stark: if his own adherence to justice felt like being bound by fetters, then this man was shouldering the fate of the world—he was carrying an entire mountain on his back.

"Lofty ideals give us strength!"

"WOOF!"

After circling around to ensure they hadn’t been followed, they finally returned to the merchant caravan’s encampment.

The fewer people who knew about this, the better. Tiffany was unreliable, and Lance didn’t even plan to disturb her.

He thought he had moved undetected, flawlessly, but had unexpectedly alerted someone.

The harsh tribal life had taught her how to survive in hostile environments. At the same time, she had developed a strong sense of vigilance and was keenly sensitive to any disturbances from the outside world.

It was the faint smell of blood in the air that had awakened her just now. By rights, she shouldn’t get involved in these matters. However, Tiffany had been taking good care of her these past few days, and she wasn’t an ingrate. Although she was irked by that man, she ultimately grabbed her War Halberd and charged out.

Then the two sides met.

Dismas and Reynard didn’t recognize the Barbarian Woman, and her sudden appearance led them to treat her as an enemy. When Reynard was about to strike a harsh blow with his sword, a low shout controlled the situation.

"Stop!"

Lance stepped out. That voice made the Barbarian Woman hesitate for a moment, but she quickly recognized the newcomer by the moonlight. Her gaze swept over him, noting the sheer amount of blood staining his clothes—a clear indication he had been through a furious battle.

Her gaze lingered on the figure on horseback; she seemed to understand something.

In the tribe, matters between men and women were very simple. If a man desired a woman, he simply had to defeat her in combat and carry her off. Unfortunately, nobody in the younger generation of the tribe could beat her.

"We were rescuing someone, so don’t get any damn funny ideas. If there’s nothing else, go back to sleep," Lance explained irritably at her strange look, then waved his hand, signaling her to return to her room.

But the Barbarian Woman showed no intention of leaving and instead stared intently at Lance.

"Do you want to challenge me?" Lance asked, a playful smile gracing his lips.

The Barbarian Woman stepped forward, War Halberd in hand. Her stance made her intentions perfectly clear.

Having rested, her condition had mostly recovered. Her combat ability wouldn’t diminish at night; in fact, using the darkness and her surroundings to overcome powerful prey was a common tactic for her.

Lance didn’t refuse and walked onto the open ground. The others, seeing this, didn’t leave either; instead, they curiously waited to watch the show.

The Lord’s strength was considerable; they weren’t worried about him being at a disadvantage.

Seeing this, the Barbarian Woman furrowed her brows. "Weapon."

"No need. If I hurt you, I’ll be the one paying for your treatment anyway."

Lance’s flippant attitude enraged the Barbarian Woman. She casually tossed aside her War Halberd. "I won’t take advantage of you being unarmed, but you will pay a price!"

With that, she sprang into action, rapidly closing the distance and swinging a massive fist at Lance.

She had previously been weakened by three days without food and a severe beating. But now, fully recovered, her agile body displayed the speed and power of a wild lioness, brimming with vibrant Life Force.

The Barbarian Woman was extremely confident; even the strongest warriors of her generation in the tribe were no match for her fists.

Yet Lance neither dodged nor evaded. He swung his own fist in kind, choosing to meet her attack head-on.

A muffled thud echoed. The terrifying force transmitted up her arm startled the Barbarian Woman. This was a power she had only felt once before—from a Giant Forest Pig. That had been a desperate battle, one she had nearly lost her life in. But she quickly steadied herself. She had survived, and that spoke volumes about the Giant Forest Pig’s fate.

Tribal Combat Skills were no mark of primitiveness. On the contrary, generations of tribespeople, struggling to survive in harsh environments, had developed these techniques with a singular purpose: to kill their opponents. And the Barbarian Woman was a master among them.

The fight continued. Lance had initially assumed he could easily overpower her. However, once they truly engaged, he realized the recovered Barbarian Woman possessed formidable combat prowess. Close-quarters combat experience was precisely what Lance lacked. He had mostly relied on superior equipment and raw strength to crush his enemies. This time, however, he had truly met his match.