Chapter 625: Standing By for Orders
The people in the small square quickly split up and took action.
Wayne, for the first time in a while, rode on horseback, galloping through the night with a ‘clip-clop’ sound, accompanying two monks to a part of the Dock Area he hadn't explored much before.
This area was probably the concentrated storage zone for the docks, with roads wider than many communities in the Dock Area, but also in worse condition, with streetlights only at intersections.
Even though ordinary people were not allowed to ride horses within the city limits, and various carriages had begun to popularize soft bags to collect horse manure along the way, due to the large quantity and untimely cleanup, the dried and crushed horse manure scattered on the roads was still similar to some western towns where everyone rode horses. The smell wasn't particularly strong, but it wasn't absent either.
Looking around, there were only large warehouses with walls. Although there were scattered faint lights and sparse barks of dogs in the distance, it was generally dark and silent compared to the residential areas of the Dock Area.
According to the task distribution, Wayne's group was responsible for the most crucial emergency rescue. Therefore, the area they arrived at was theoretically roughly at the center of all “possibilities.”
There were no suspicious nodes nearby for them to investigate; their task was to stand by and then provide timely reinforcement after seeing a flare of the corresponding color.
Since Wayne had provided emergency first aid to the people on site last night, his ability to absorb additional extraordinary power from others was basically public knowledge within the organization.
Although Merlin had stated he wouldn't spread it externally, such unavoidable details would likely be written into the monks' mission reports sooner or later. It felt like it would at least be recorded in the Cathedral's internal archives, easily discoverable by anyone with a mind to look, and no longer a “secret.”
However, many things are often a mix of blessings and misfortunes. For example, the other two monks in Wayne's group showed considerable respect for Wayne at this time.
This respect was not the kind of respect a subordinate shows to a “superior,” but closer to the respect ordinary people show to “doctors” and other professionals who save lives and help the injured.
“Mr. Wayne, you can find a place nearby to rest temporarily. If we discover anything, we will notify you in time to go together.”
“Thank you, but there's no need. I'm a Westerner; I can spend the night in the wilderness, and occasional all-nighters are common for a private detective.”
Wayne politely replied, pulling out another candle from a large, portable toolbox similar to what a carpenter would use. “What is this candle for? It looks different from the one earlier.”
This was the “first-aid kit” the two monks carried with them; they each had one.
Perhaps because Wayne had also helped several monks on site last night, or perhaps because everyone was currently emergency personnel, the two monks were quite generous in sharing supplies, directly handing over the entire box and telling Wayne to take whatever he needed.
One of the monks glanced at it, “This is also used to dispel Demons. The previous candle's effect focused on directly suppressing Demons, while this one is gentler, focusing on ‘protection’ after exorcism and the ‘stabilization’ of personnel.”
“I see.” Wayne nodded, picked one out, and casually tucked it into his saddlebag.
The box contained many bottles and jars, as well as cotton gauze, cloth rolls, needles, catheters, and even some strange knives and small bone saws.
Wayne had already taken several items and was about to continue studying the potions. He had just picked up a sealed test tube that looked expensive and small in volume, then quickly put it back and closed the toolbox.
“What's wrong?” The monk next to him noticed Wayne's movements and asked.
Wayne patted the horse's back twice, lowering his voice slightly, “Someone is secretly approaching, and there seem to be quite a few of them.”
Monks might be professional enough in exorcism, but they probably didn't have many opportunities to deal with bad people.
These two monks were not part of Merlin's direct team; they were auxiliary personnel temporarily left behind to handle medical duties after the Cathedral's emergency reinforcement last night, so they likely had even less field experience.
However, some signs were not difficult to detect. For example, a few dog barks suddenly sounded again from a little further away. This area was not enclosed, and Wayne had initially thought someone was just passing by.
But now, there were no additional lights or footsteps nearby, yet the horses suddenly became alert, indicating that the other party was not a legitimate passerby but was deliberately concealing their tracks.
It was a bit like “working quietly, no shooting,” appearing sneaky.
As for why he thought there were many people, it was because the horses were alert in different directions.
Horses' hearing and smell are very keen, almost as good as dogs'. In the wilderness, they can even help find water several kilometers away, and their vigilance is very strong, often detecting approaching wild beasts before humans do.
But unfortunately, they don't really like to make noise; they still have the quiet temperament of herbivores at heart. Their initial reactions during agitation are mostly subtle. If people don't pay attention, by the time they suddenly hear a horse's neigh, something has usually already happened.
Furthermore, trained horses often develop a certain degree of desensitization to a small number of terrifying bipedal apes. Unless the other party keeps making “rustling” noises, horses mostly get nervous for a short while and then adapt—many horse theft cases in the West are like this; usually, it's only when the other party is already on the horse that the horses truly cause a commotion.
Unlike dogs, who start greeting strangers warmly even when they are still some distance away.
The simplified line of sight quietly opened, and the increasingly dense darkness beyond the streetlights lost its protective effect. Although the “lens” could only move a limited distance, Wayne quickly roughly understood the situation.
He pulled out the spare pistol and lever-action rifle from his saddlebag and handed them to the two monks under cover. “There are people in both front and back directions. It feels like they're coming for us. Take these weapons just in case.”
One of the monks' expressions instantly became solemn: “Is it the Silent Sect?”
Wayne felt a little embarrassed, “I estimate there are a dozen or so people, and they seem to be carrying knives and clubs. It feels more like gang members. Being a private detective easily offends people; I guess someone is seeking revenge again.”
“Then what should we do?” The other monk didn't care how Wayne came to his conclusion, only asking for a solution.
Wayne had already prepared the German smuggled bolt-action rifle, its barrel poking out through a hole in a saddlebag, with a bit of the stock also visible.
He moved this saddlebag to a convenient position next to the reins. “Before they surround us, we'll mount our horses on ‘one, two, three’ simultaneously and move to another location to continue standing by. There's a lot going on tonight, and ensuring the safety of others is more important. Their horses are at least not nearby, so they shouldn't be able to catch us.”
The monks clearly didn't want any unnecessary complications and quickly nodded: “Okay, we'll do as you say.”
Hmph, we're fighting followers of an evil god, busy “saving the world.” We don't have time to deal with you small fries.
Otherwise, if I were to play night combat while riding and fighting guerilla style with my vision open, it's hard to say who would ambush whom in the end.
The three quickly and quietly took their positions. Just as Wayne finished counting “one” in a low voice for “one, two, three,” a small bright spot shot into the sky in the darkness, with the lingering sound of “res—.”
Wayne and the two monks simultaneously turned their heads to look, and then with a “bang,” a not-very-flashy flare bloomed in the darkness, a dazzling light that gradually descended and dissipated.
“Red! This is the signal that each group needs to send out tonight only when emergency rescue is required!” Disregarding any slogans, the three immediately mounted their horses.
Fortunately, to make it easier to pick things, their standby location was a crossroads with streetlights. Wayne raised his hand and pointed in one direction, “That way looks clear of people; we'll just shake them off.”
The increasingly dense sound of hooves quickly broke the silence in the surrounding area.
Although those guys hiding in the shadows also reflexively began to move, swarming forward with quickened steps, the width of crossroads in this era was limited. As long as they made a slight turn, these guys, still stuck in the cold weapon era, would probably only be left chasing horse butts and eating dust.
“Bang—”
“Bang bang, bang bang bang bang!”
“Whinnyyyyy—”
“Boom!”
Wayne turned his head in shock, seeing that the horse one of the monks was riding had been hit by successive gunshots. It reacted by rearing its front legs, and the person on its back was directly thrown to the ground.
Wayne's own shoulder was hurting at this moment; his collarbone area felt like it had been instantly punched hard, the bullet likely lodged between the bones, with a slight warmth spreading along his clothing.
Gang members' revenge usually had levels. Under normal circumstances, if they carried clubs, it almost implied they only wanted to “beat someone up.” Knives at this time were also usually more for deterrence, with an intent to harm rather than kill. In such cases, fatalities were basically due to “accidentally getting carried away” or “injury and delayed rescue.”
However, when they truly intended to kill, they would often ambush directly with daggers or firearms from the very beginning, no longer needing a group of people with clubs or similar items to create a show of force.
The bolt-action rifle was quickly raised, and bullets were fired at the silhouette of someone holding a gun a little further away, who hadn't put it down yet.
Are these people crazy? Playing like this?!
