Chapter 144: Eberhard’s Goodwill

The Magic Missile took the last breath from the warrior, and Gauss cautiously added two more slashes.

After confirming he was completely dead, he and Arya began tidying up the mess of the battlefield.

“Didn’t expect we’d run into something like this.” Arya glanced at the bloodstains and chaos in the snow, speaking softly in reflection.

Gauss, however, appeared unusually calm.

Although it was he who had killed them, he had encountered brainless highway robbers while traveling before, so this was not the first time he had taken a life.

The moment they launched a surprise attack and struck at the unconscious Arya, it had already doomed any chance for peace between them.

Therefore, Gauss felt little burden.

For enemies, one must utterly eradicate them!

Be it monsters, or… humans!

Just imagine—if it had been their side lacking strength, then at this very moment, the ones lying in the snow being looted might have been him and Arya. If he were just an unguarded ordinary spellcaster, he might have died in the first ambush from the warrior, and Arya would have struggled to face four opponents alone.

To start a conflict, and then, upon losing, try to flee and beg for peace—there is no such bargain in this world.

“Will the Guild investigate?” It was Gauss’s first time encountering such a situation, so he asked.

Arya shook her head, her tone certain.

“They shouldn’t. They struck first, and even if Traceback Magic was used to review the scene, it’s still considered self-defense for us. But if we had attacked first to rob them, and got caught, there might be trouble. After all, this is the Winter Hunt organized by the Adventurer’s Guild…”

After this brief exchange, the two began looting with practiced skill.

From the four still-warm corpses, they dug out about twelve gold coins in total.

“Kinda poor… around three gold coins each on average,” Gauss remarked.

This amount was less than his own savings shortly after becoming a Bronze-rank Adventurer.

No wonder they’d risk everything—they must have gone desperate from poverty.

“Maybe it all went into gear maintenance and skill books?”

Aside from the coins, there were some scattered equipment, potions, and supplies.

What really made Gauss’s eyes light up was finding a Small Storage Bag on the mage Piero’s corpse—almost identical to his own.

“Twenty-five gold coins!”

They exchanged glances, both seeing the same joy in each other’s eyes.

“Perfect, we needed a shared storage bag!” Arya said happily. “Yours alone isn’t enough space.”

“Just don’t know if he bought it outright or on a loan, and if it’s paid off yet,” Gauss mused.

“Who cares, it’s ours now. If they borrowed from another Guild, they won’t track it back to us,” Arya said cheerfully.

Having another storage bag meant being able to carry more supplies and loot—no adventuring party ever complained about that.

Gauss took the bag, channeling magical energy through his fingertips. After a while, he completely erased the previous owner’s residual aura and imprinted his own Magical Imprint.

A glance at the sky told him—

It was already late.

They quickly stuffed the spoils into the newly acquired storage bag, then dragged the four corpses into a nondescript snow pit nearby for a rough burial.

Afterward, they headed for the planned rendezvous point.

On the way back, both were in good spirits.

Though unexpected events occurred, the outcome was favorable.

The Winter Hunt’s bounties and loot from slain monsters were expected to bring them twenty to thirty gold coins.

And “turning the tables” on that small team had yielded perhaps fifty gold coins or more in total.

Unfortunately, aside from the storage bag, there wasn’t much in high-value currency. Low-level adventurers just starting their careers usually reinvest most of their early earnings into themselves.

Items like skill books or potions lose their original value after use.

Otherwise, the profit would have been even greater.

After walking a while, Gauss and Arya began encountering other returning small teams.

Winter Hunt teams kept their distance, silently and quickly moving toward the rendezvous point.

By the time they arrived, quite a few people had gathered.

Gauss did not see President Eberhard, but a Black Iron-rank Adventurer was leading the group.

Once about ten small teams had assembled, the Black Iron-rank Adventurer led them toward the camp at the forest’s edge.

The journey was largely without danger—

Or perhaps it was that this group, numbering in the dozens, were themselves “dangerous elements.” Ordinary monsters, sensing the combined presence, wouldn’t even think of attacking, fleeing instead.

When the silhouette of the camp—its perimeter of wagons and flickering bonfires—finally came into view, the sky had gone fully dark.

Gauss, tense all day, finally allowed himself to relax slightly.

The camp had expanded since their departure, and the wooden palisade had been reinforced.

Under the pitch-black sky, the bonfires crackled, their orange-yellow glow pushing back the cold and darkness. The mingling scents of food and voices almost created the illusion of being back in a town.

The merchant caravans accompanying the adventurers had already set up large tents and opened temporary “shops.”

They sold not only fresh meat and vegetables but also provided services like canteens, bathhouses, and other paid amenities.

Gauss and Arya spent money on some meat and produce before returning to their tent.

“So expensive—nearly five times the price in town,” Arya muttered while feeding a large fresh steak to an eager Ulfen.

But she understood well enough—it was a fair price.

Higher transport costs, a more dangerous environment…

Without enough profit, who would be willing to follow adventurers into the perilous wilds outside the Emerald Forest in the dead of winter to provide services?

Charity? Not from profit-driven merchants, and even they themselves, as adventurers, had come here to clear monsters for profit.

Back at their assigned tent, Arya skillfully lit the bonfire.

Gauss prepared the food—throwing cut meat, washed vegetables, and various spices all at once into an iron pot to stew.

The enticing aroma quickly spread.

While dinner cooked, Gauss busied himself casting Prestidigitation repeatedly to clean both of them.

Once, twice…

The faint magical glow, like flowing clear water, brushed gently over their bodies and clothing, removing the day’s sweat and blood.

Though the camp had bath tents, they had returned late, and going there now meant waiting in line.

Better to make do with magic.

Though Prestidigitation lacked the relaxation of a bath, it was still quite effective for cleaning.

Meanwhile—

Late at night, in the largest tent at the camp’s center—

Eberhard sat alone at a wide wooden table, a map spread before him.

If other adventurers saw it, they would notice it depicted the area covered by the Winter Hunt teams that day.

And it was no ordinary map—it was a magical tool.

On the large sheet, all sorts of information appeared clearly—

The location of each small team’s light point, every signal flare sent up, even the species and approximate number of monsters slain, all marked in text.

Simply pausing the quill’s tip at a location would make the relevant information appear.

Eberhard’s fingertip traced the map, his quill stopping at a certain spot flashing with an unusual red mark.

Summoning his intelligence and logistics officer, he soon received a Traceback Stone that had caught his attention.

A robed mage activated the stone.

Soft light projected into the air, clearly replaying everything that had happened in that forest clearing.

From Gauss clearing monsters, to the sudden appearance of the unknown small team, to their surprise attack, the ensuing battle, the looting, and the burial—every moment was recorded.

When the projection ended, the tent fell briefly silent.

“Lord Eberhard,” the robed mage began cautiously, “should we… send someone to remind this Gauss to restrain himself a little? After all—”

Eberhard’s crimson eyes lingered on Gauss’s young yet unusually calm face in the projection, a faint, intrigued smile appearing.

“No need,” he said, withdrawing the smile, his voice returning to a low, steady tone.

“And these records—?”

“Erase them.” Eberhard tapped the Traceback Stone lightly.

“As for those four overconfident fools, note them down as having encountered a Tier 2 monster—‘Ogre’—fought valiantly, but were annihilated.”

The robed mage lowered his head deeply, a glint of understanding in his eyes. “Understood, my lord.”

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