"It seems this is where we part ways Mr. Asmund"

The coachman waved a hand to Cabrera who was using the name Mr. Asmund, before continuing on towards Avilla with the mercenaries escorting his two carriages.

Cabrera merely nodded as he turned and vanished from sight. In the first place, he didn\'t like talking to people he knew nothing about, so, after telling them his name and destination, he kept mute throughout the journey.

And worst of all-

\'That man talked too much!\'

-the man never stopped talking.

\'Well, that\'s the end of that\' Cabrera thought as he sighed in relief.

He then gulped down a disguise potion and his hair and beard color changed, his face also shifting a bit.

After doing so, Cabrera first and foremost surveyed his location while looking up at the sun.

Cabrera had boarded the carriage a little after sunset and had been riding for more than twenty hours before getting here.

Which meant that Cabrera needed to move with haste to the designated location.

The Windless Peaks.

As the name implied, it was a mountain range, an expansive one at that.

There weren\'t many mountains, but each one was huge. And the way they were placed mattered too.

In fact, the land was mostly blocked off by the mountains, making the other side a coastal area, where the Avilla Kingdom was located.

It was the smallest kingdom on Lexon, and more importantly, it could be said that they were encroaching on the Empire\'s land.

Actually, a lot of Nitonians said so.

The reason why such a small power hadn\'t been eaten up or destroyed all this time was four-fold, but that was for another time.

Right now, Cabrera headed towards a tall, eye-catching building made of wood in a small settlement demarcated by wood poles with sharpened edges.

From afar, he could already spot dozens of hunting teams or temporary adventure parties doing last minute checks on their gear before going into the forest. Some seemed to be new recruits from different guilds that had come for the experience.

He could tell because those groups had older people in front them giving instructions.

This particular place didn\'t have an actual name, it was only called the Missionary outpost, and the building Cabrera sighted from afar was indeed a Missionary.

Any land designated as wilderness, which was any place occupied by beasts, was deemed property of the Empire.

Of course, whoever reported it would be given a specific amount, and sometimes others were allowed to share in the gains of that region. It was akin to having shares in a company.

Nests or beast regions were places saturated with a particular sort of beast which had to be culled daily or weekly to prevent an outburst, or worse, a monster wave.

A nest was a place where many variants of a single beast laid and then began producing offspring at alarming rates.

At first, the beasts would eat others up and grow as they did so, but if the numbers kept increasing, they would sooner or later come out their confined space to look for food elsewhere, thereby clashing with human settlements and killing from tens to hundreds.

There had even been cases of monsters who became addicted to the taste of human flesh.

But for each demerit, there was an equal merit, which was why a Missionary was built here.

Beast parts sold for a lot and catching beasts alive was unbelievably hard and rewarding, not to mention the value of Beast Cores. Beasts that were wanted alive were never small fry, but if done, would net triple or quadruple the amount of its dead counterpart.

Grandmasters could destroy nests, and Niton definitely had its share of Grandmasters, yet they didn\'t, why? Simple, it was to maintain balance in the ecosystem.

Any wilderness deemed too dangerous by the empire was directly eradicated, while those deemed sustainable were then designated as hunting spots for adventurers.

Sustainable in the sense that an outburst wouldn\'t do too much damage to the nearby places, and that the creatures within that region were worth hunting.

Once this was known, the empire would first dispatch Knights to cull the monsters to a suitable level while mapping the region out for special plants or unique minerals, and of course, they were to bring back the monster corpses for research.

How else do you think Blacksmiths could distinguish the quality of an animal\'s skin or how alchemists could make potions and poisons from beast skin and blood? They did research!

Which was why things like nests and Missionaries sprung up all over the place.

At present, any wilderness was a source of money and resources to the ruling power, and to make sure people didn\'t try anything funny, Missionaries were established with the aim of securing any wilderness in the name of the ruling power by force or negotiation.

Which meant that all Niton Missionaries were delegated with authority to act in the name of the ruling power.

The complications and consequences of this would only be known in the future, because Cabrera had arrived at the entrance to the outpost.

Two men with fine clothes made out of red leather were guarding the entrance, their faces completely rigid, each with a metal spear in one hand. Unlike those of Whittown, these two were of similar height, while one had a scar on the left side of his face.

"Halt" the one Cabrera nicknamed Scarface said as he extended his palm.

Without a word, Cabrera handed him two silver as the entrance fee.

Immediately, the two men gave way as they opened the wooden gate to reveal a bustling atmosphere.

Many wooden buildings were constructed to the left and right sides, while a road was in the middle.

"Buy your Sattlesnake skin here! 6 silver per piece!"

"Limited Croxsnake venom for sale! 10 silver per piece"

"Selling blue leather armor! 45 silver per piece!"

Different items were being sold no matter where you looked, from armors to weapons to herbs to potions, there were even multiple gambling dens with all kinds of games and prizes.

And of course…

"You b*stard, give me back my money!"

There was the inevitable chaos.

Cabrera was checking out the merchandise for sale with his eyes while making sure to never stop moving.

Fredrick had been here once, so he had told Cabrera what to expect, along with the Do\'s and Don\'ts.

And as if on point…

"Boy"

A muscular man with a dark skin tone steeped in Cabrera\'s way. His clothes were but an armless brown jacket, which exposed his stomach and trousers of the same color.

The man was a head taller, so Cabrera had to slightly raise his head to see a bald head with a nose ring on a face that was smiling menacingly at him, a handheld saber resting on his back.

And in the face of all this, Cabrera asked seemingly confused…

"Who are you?"

It was no doubt a logical question, but when the thug saw no sign of apprehension or fear, he hailed out and stomped his feet on the floor.

"I am Baldur, now, come with me" he said with conviction as he placed his hands on Cabrera\'s shoulder, intent on dragging him along, only to find himself unable to do so.

\'Huh?\' he thought with surprise apparent on his face as he looked at Cabrera, who was looking at the hand covering his entire right shoulder.

By now, bystanders had already noticed and had begun to converse in whispers.

"Hey, who is that?" a man asked the person beside him, who replied…

"You must be new around here. That\'s Baldur, a member of the Red Wolf guild"

"What about the other guy?"

"Haven\'t seen him before, so he must be new around here"

"Oh, he\'s a newbie. Does that mean Baldur is weak?"

"No, he\'s plenty strong. It\'s the newbie that\'s stronger"

Baldur, whose earring was able to catch the whispers, turned his head when he heard "Baldur is weak" and didn\'t bother listening to the rest as he unleashed his mana.

Everyone in the surroundings suddenly came to a stop as those who didn\'t notice or couldn\'t be bothered about it were now forced to do so.

The usage of mana wasn\'t something anybody could do, the manifestation even more so, which was what Baldur was currently doing, and so people were interested in who had made Baldur use mana. And so, spectators gathered like ants to a feast, with their number increasing by the second.

Baldur used mana to support his skin, before pressing his palm on Cabrera\'s shoulder with increased pressure, intent on making him kneel.

Yet, instead of doing so…

*Crack*

The ground was breaking as multiple cracks spread from below the spot Cabrera was currently standing on.

And after a whole minute since Baldur unleashed his mana, a voice spoke in his ears.

"Is that all?"

Baldur, whose head was now filled with sweat, could only look on stupendously as the man whom he was inflicting pressure on did not budge.

And without waiting for an answer, Cabrera\'s hand lit up with an outline of gold as he casually raised the hand pressing down on his shoulder.

And then…

*BAM!*

Most of the bystanders couldn\'t even follow what happened as the next thing they saw was small pieces of stone flying toward them.

"Look out" someone shouted as each person used what they had on them to either deflect or avoid the stone pieces.

After that though, the surroundings suddenly descended into silence.

The reason why was clear for all to see. It was the cause of the flying pieces of broken stone.

Baldur was lying on his back with the ground below him completely shattered. His eyes had turned white, indicating that he was unconscious, while his face was morphed into that of pain as he laid limply on the floor.

Gulps of saliva were heard in the surroundings as their minds were still in chaos regarding the reality they were seeing, before their gazes went back to the one who was the cause of such a scene.

"Damn it, my clothes got dirty"

But he wasn\'t paying attention to the aftermath of his arm swing or the gazes of those around him.

He was simply dusting his clothes that had dust all over it. Once he was done, he simply walked forward as if the bystanders didn\'t exist, and those in his way immediately cleared a path.

Without a word, Cabrera headed to his original destination.

The Missionary.