178 Thank You, Donkey
Leon didn’t swagger through the city gates like a peacock.
With the internal situation of the empire unclear and a guy who was supposed to have kicked the bucket three years ago suddenly back in the picture, he couldn’t help but think he might stir up some unnecessary trouble.
Let’s not forget, General Leon had once been hailed as the strongest Dragon Slayer, making him quite the celebrity.
Maybe saying he was a household name was a stretch, but back in the day, he could walk into any restaurant in the empire and get a free meal just because of that handsome face.
Sometimes, the charming hostesses would even wink at him.
Yikes, yikes, yikes! A married man with kids shouldn’t dwell on such nonsense—
At least when dining out, he definitely had to pay!
So he ninja’d his way in, hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment.
Just at dawn, Leon finally got his chance.
He snuck in with a merchant caravan that was conducting business in the empire, slipping in unnoticed.
Sure enough, the guards at the gates were as lazy as ever, just giving the carts a casual glance– no thorough searching whatsoever—
Leon thought to himself while clinging to the bottom of a cart with surprising core strength.
After breezing through the city gates and wandering a few streets, Leon crawled out from the cart and hopped into the cargo area.
Inside were goods meant to be sold—trinkets and accessories for young folks, probably all the rage.
The empire was vast, rich in resources, the core territory of the human lands.
The surrounding satellite countries all depended on this big brother of an empire—be it for trade or when they were bullied by foreign dudes, they would come crying to big brother.
Of course, big brother wouldn’t help out for free; he’d occasionally ask for a little protection fee.
And the little brothers were eager to comply! Hand over some gold, treasure, beauty queens each year, and it would ensure a year of smooth sailing without any foreign invaders daring to invade.
That, my friends, is the confidence that the empire gave me (hands on hips)!
Leon sat in the back of the cart, peering out through the gaps in the wood.
The streets were bustling; the empire was still as lively as ever.
Leon couldn’t help but think, three years had gone by, and the empire still thrived like in the old days.
After weaving through a few more streets, he quietly hopped off the cart.
Before leaving, he swiped a pair of sunglasses.
Celebrities always wear sunglasses when they step out;
Especially when they’re a celebrity who’s already “dead.”
Leon stood on the street, surveying his surroundings, ensuring nobody was watching him from the shadows before striding into a nearby alley.
He planned to check out Master’s farm first.
Though the chances were Master wouldn’t be there, Leon wanted to take a shot at it—who knows, maybe Master left some useful information or other clues for him!
He strolled into the alley, hands tucked in his pants pockets, chin down, striding confidently.
But just a few steps in, he caught sight of some glaring notices plastered on the wall.
Leon halted, glanced sideways, and then widened his eyes.
Those weren’t just notices; they were the empire’s… wanted posters— a red-level top wanted notice!
And the face on the poster? None other than his master, Taige Lawrence.
“Wait, how did Master end up as a wanted criminal?!”
Seriously, this old guy, never mind killing or setting fires, even lighting a cigarette had to go through the missus for approval—how did he become a wanted man?
Leon was momentarily dumbfounded, processing this shocking news.
His expression grew serious.
Indeed, the empire was just as prosperous as before;
But beneath that prosperity lurked unsettling undercurrents.
Leon tore down the wanted poster from the wall, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into his pocket before hurrying away.
An hour later, Leon arrived at Master’s farm, his former home.
Of course, the wanted criminal’s farm was sealed off, with big seals posted on the door; peering in, it looked utterly desolate.
Leon glanced around, confirmed the neighbors weren’t home, and leaped over the fence, making his way to the wooden house on the other side of the farm.
The aged wooden house was in disrepair, with one side of the roof collapsed and windows smashed as if attacked by a stone-throwing gang.
Leon circled the wooden house, didn’t spot any traps, and promptly climbed in through the broken window.
His feet hit the floor, creaking loudly as dust swirled up.
Leon waved a hand in front of his nose, beginning to inspect the familiar house.
The living room, kitchen, bedroom—all were in a state of ruin, completely resembling a place where no one had lived for quite some time.
Also, there were no clues or messages left by Master.
Leon sighed, muttering, “The old guy wouldn’t have forgotten that yesterday marks exactly a year since our agreement, would he?”
The reason Leon thought Master might have left clues for him was that since the year was Master’s idea, he’d naturally want to contact Leon somehow when the time came.
But since Master wasn’t at that mountain cave where he initially hid, he must have left some clues back at the old farm.
However, there was nothing here.
But just as Leon was about to leave in disappointment, he suddenly remembered the hayloft in the backyard hadn’t been checked.
With a hopeful mindset, Leon headed towards the hayloft in the back.
Initially, it had been used not only for storing hay and firewood but was also home to their donkey—yes, their donkey had a cushy spot in the hayloft.
Talk about letting a two-hundred-pounder live in a buffet!
Leon meticulously searched the hayloft. Dust got in his eyes and tickled his nose.
But thankfully, this time he wasn’t empty-handed.
Beneath the hay where the donkey used to lounge, he discovered a clue left for him by Master.
“Donkey, love you!”
The message was scrawled on a tattered strip of fabric, indicating Master’s situation was pretty dire—he couldn’t even find a proper piece of paper.
Leon unfurled the fabric; the writing looked like it was scratched on with a red brick—ah, great, not only was there no paper, but not even a proper writing tool.
Poor Master, poor!
The message was succinct:
“Rebecca is trustworthy.”
“Rebecca…”
That name triggered memories for Leon.
Rebecca Clement, the artillery master from his team.
A chatterbox, slightly neurotic girl.
Back in their battles, he and the other two teammates could confidently leave the flanks to Rebecca; her firepower cover was always spot on, and her shooting scores ranked among the best in the Dragon Slayer Army.
Plus, she had a dash of “natural strength.”
Despite her petite frame, she managed to wield various heavy weaponry with ease, which left Leon scratching his head.
This was simply against all biological logic!
Oh, you say General Leon single-handedly taking down the Dragon King also defies biology?
Well, never mind then.
Back to the point.
This hasty scrawl was indeed Master’s handwriting.
High EQ: wild and free, a bit messy.
Low EQ: What kind of nonsense is this?
If it weren’t for being the apprentice he’d raised since childhood, others would probably struggle to understand.
“Rebecca is trustworthy… does this mean Master has already figured out about the betrayal I suffered from the traitor?”
After pondering for a moment, Leon hesitated to confirm this guess.
If Roswiser had mentioned the backstabbing incident when she met Master, then Master surely knew and had secretly investigated his teammates over this past year;
But if Roswiser hadn’t brought it up, then Master leaving this message might just be a way to give Leon a “safe spot” upon returning to the empire.
But regardless—
Leon stared at that familiar name on the fabric.
He was definitely going to meet his artillery master and find out what was up!
