Chapter 292: Hidden Motives

No one knows how much time passes before Henwell speaks first. “Alright then. Since you insist, Old Candle, I won’t push it. But you’re familiar with this area, so I want you to recommend a few reliable guides. If we complete the mission smoothly, I promise a generous reward.”

The implication is clear: if the mission fails or something happens, Henwell will come looking for him.

During their earlier calm exchange, Henwell already locked onto Old Candle’s mental energy signature.

No matter how much Old Candle disguises himself, if Henwell puts in the effort, he’ll find him.

Old Candle clearly catches the threat.

After a moment of silence, he says, “Fine. Within a year, bring two carts of refined salt to this tribe, along with various other supplies.”

Henwell replies, “I’ll bring double.”

“Go get some rest. Tomorrow morning, everything will be arranged.”

With Old Candle’s promise secured, Henwell stands and leaves, the others following behind.

Back at the knights’ camp, all the Battle Knights gather for a meeting.

Both parties are present, fully aware of the dangers ahead.

Henwell looks to Obian and the others first. “In less than half a month, we’ll reach the border of Ika. There’s no need for you to come any further. I know you’re looking for a chance to take us out. You also understand the road ahead is filled with greater dangers. We might be torn apart by Fury Spirits before even reaching the border.”

At this moment, Wacker, the king’s messenger, feels a stir of hesitation.

Obian responds coolly, “We have our own mission. Do you think knights like us are so cowardly that we only want to survive?”

Then he turns to Henwell. “Admittedly, if the chance arises, we’d like to eliminate you all. But honestly, I personally respect you—especially you, Lord of Blood Hill. So young, yet you’ve achieved so much. A true hero emerges early.”

”By the way, Lord of Blood Hill, you’re twenty-four this year, right? None of us like war; we all want to live well. During the War of the Six Kings, my eldest son died at the hands of your Vorry army. Funny enough, his name was also Henwell. Had he lived, he’d be the same age as you now.”

Henwell snaps coldly, “What’s this? Is Viscount Obian trying to take advantage of me? Acting like he’s my father?”

Conrad and Hubert tighten their grips on their sword hilts and step forward, glaring at Obian.

Wacker quickly steps in to smooth things over. “Lord Henwell, you misunderstand. Viscount Obian didn’t mean anything like that. Seeing your youth reminded him of his own child’s fate. There was no intention to insult you.”

Henwell snorts dismissively and turns away from Obian.

Orak breaks the tension, shifting the topic. “Henwell, what’s with that Old Candle? You looked ready to strike earlier, but then you stopped. Why?”

Henwell frowns. “That old man isn’t ordinary. He’s a professional. I’m not confident I can take him down.”

It’s not that Henwell lacks confidence, just that he doubts his ability to defeat Old Candle at the Grand Knight level.

Everyone looks surprised. Obian asks, “If I may be frank, we didn’t sense any extraordinary power from him. Was he once a knight expert? Now in his twilight years, his physical abilities are declining?”

Henwell shakes his head. “No, he’s a wizard—a Dawn-class wizard. Much trickier than a Grand Knight.”

Everyone immediately understands. Spellcasters don’t rely on physical strength.

Age and physical decline affect spellcasters less than knights or other combat-focused fighters.

Especially on a spellcaster’s turf, recklessly challenging one is a risky move.

Orak exclaims in surprise, “How does a place like this have a wizard of that caliber? And a spellcaster, no less?”

Obian probes deeper, “Why is he helping us? Or rather, why is he even reaching out to us?”

Henwell shares his suspicion. “He’s probably hiding from some enemy here. The specifics don’t matter. As for why he’s helping us, that’s actually a consequence of him contacting us first. He wants to lead us somewhere or make us do something, to use us to achieve his own goals.”

”But I saw through that plan. That’s why I insisted on forcing him to come along. When our energies clashed, he realized we’re tough opponents and wasn’t confident he could take all of us down.”

”Since his scheme failed and was exposed, he has to face the consequences. He must satisfy us.”

Wacker looks worried. “Could he still be planning some other underhanded trick?”

Henwell shakes his head. “I don’t know. But I already warned him: if he dares to kill all of us, he’ll be hunted without end. Since he’s hiding in this godforsaken place just to survive, he’s clearly afraid of death. So I doubt he’ll take that risk.”

Wacker asks, “What about those Fury Spirits? What do we do if we run into them? That sounds really dangerous.”

Henwell stands up. “Then it’s a matter of who’s tougher. That’s why I keep urging you all to turn back early. This is beyond your mission’s scope.”

With that, Henwell leads the group away from the camp.

He knows the journey ahead is fraught with danger. Fred’s intelligence on the Fury Spirits is vague. Fred hasn’t encountered them himself. Or if he has, he can’t even identify which ones are Fury Spirits.

Henwell needs to conserve his strength and stay sharp for battle.

None of these dangers shake Henwell too much.

The only thing bothering him is his father.

Henwell realizes his father has recognized him and is constantly probing.

But Henwell can’t reveal his identity. If their relationship becomes known, Henwell would have to kill everyone here.

That’s something he doesn’t want to do, so he pretends not to notice his father’s tests.

But letting Obian keep probing isn’t good either. There are many sharp minds in the group.

If they suspect anything, Henwell will be at a serious disadvantage.

He needs to find a chance to have a proper talk with his father.

However, both sides have personal guards present, so any sudden contact would be risky for both.

Timing is crucial.

Amid all these thoughts, Henwell drifts into a deep sleep...