Grace Foster turned around and swung the knife in her hand upward from below.

The blade sliced vertically through the bandit's abdomen.

Intestines mixed with other organs squeezed out of the wound, with fluids splashing out.

The bandit lost his balance and collapsed heavily to the ground.

Grace Foster gripped the knife with both hands, standing before the bandit who had been knocked down by a knee strike, and stabbed downward.

The bandit's chest was mangled by the thrust.

He stopped moving as well.

Grace Foster held the knife, watching as the third bandit, whose belly had been split open, gasped for breath.

Only when that bandit stopped moving did Grace Foster step forward and stab his heart once more.

On the carriage, David Bolton remained motionless, as did the two guards, like three clay statues.

"Ugh～～～"

David Bolton finally began to retch.

He struggled to get down from the carriage, stood to the side, and started vomiting, but aside from some water, nothing came out.

Grace Foster, meanwhile, took out a cloth to wrap the wound on her back.

By the time Grace Foster finished, the two guards still didn't dare approach.

David Bolton stood in front of Grace Foster, glancing at the corpses.

"Peach..."

His voice was a bit weak, but there was a sly glint in his eyes again.

"Look, can you give me these heads?"

"They're all habitual bandit offenders, you can tell they've harmed plenty of people. If I take them to the authorities and hang them on the city gate, it'll serve as a warning to any would-be thieves!"

"A hundred coins."

"A hundred coins per head."

David Bolton put away his smile, hesitated to speak.

He fumbled around on his body.

After searching for a while, he gritted his teeth and handed three strings of coins to Grace Foster.

The guards stood frozen in place. David Bolton shouted angrily, "What are you standing around for?! Cut off the heads!"

"Whose heads?"

"Mine! Go on, do it!"

David Bolton stuck out his head, cursing irritably.

The two guards, trembling, chopped off the three heads. After a flurry of activity, the group set off again.

After crossing a few more hills, the guards' fear dissipated.

They straightened their backs once more, occasionally swinging the heads they carried, and their shouts from the rear rang out thunderously again.

"Faster!! All of you, faster!!"

Grace Foster still walked at the back, silent.

The tall city walls of Chengan County appeared in the distance, their gray-white color intimidating to behold.

At the city gate stood more than twenty people, lined up neatly on both sides.

These men were fully armed, stout and strong. Before the carriage even got close, several powerful crossbows were already aimed at them.

David Bolton got off the carriage with a beaming smile and walked forward.

"prrgn!"

He greeted them, pulled out his travel permit from his sleeve, and pointed out each of his guards, tenants, and Grace Foster, explaining to the official.

He then pointed at the severed heads, looking quite proud, while the two guards puffed out their chests.

Grace Foster saw David Bolton slip something into the armored soldier's hand.

The soldier checked each person one by one, scrutinizing them and comparing them, finally looking at the harpoon in Grace Foster's hand.

"bar!"

Grace Foster handed the harpoon over. The soldier took it, stepped back a few paces, shouted toward the city gate, and the guards at the entrance made way.

David Bolton walked at the front, smiling, bowing left and right, nodding repeatedly.

The group passed through the city gate.

Inside was a barbican, where they were checked again at the second gate before finally entering the city.

A road stretched into the distance, lined with various buildings.

But on this road leading away, not a single person could be seen.

The buildings on both sides were deathly silent, not a sound coming from within.

The group walked through the city like this; in this vast city, it seemed as if they were the only ones.

At a fork in the road, David Bolton stopped.

"You all wait here... I need to go to the county office."

"Don't wander off, you know the rules. The travel permit is with me. Without it, if you're caught, it's death!"

David Bolton's gaze lingered especially on Grace Foster.

In this place, a Peach without a harpoon was nothing to fear.

He got in the carriage with the two guards and headed north.

Grace Foster shouldered her bundle and was about to leave.

"Peach!"

Someone called out.

The tenant put down his sack, and at last their faces could be seen.

Wrinkled, dark faces.

"Don't wander off... There are few people here, so it's the safest."

"The city is dangerous. It's better to wait here for the master to return. People in the city dare to kill."

The old tenant tried to persuade her, and the other two nodded in agreement.

"I have things to do."

"It's your first time in the city. Even if you have business, you don't know the way. How can we let you go out alone? Wait for the master to come back, ask him clearly, then go—it's not too late... The city is dangerous..."

"Peach, just listen to us and wait a bit. We still have to go to the west market, and the master can't afford to be delayed either."

They were firm in their attitude, and the skinny old man even grabbed Grace Foster's arm.

"Usually, we owe your family a lot for looking after us. We have to look after you too. Listen to us, don't wander off. Without a permit, if the guards stop you, it's death..."