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The battle between Ren and the dragon lasted for two hours, and Ren, along with his team, finally claimed victory. Brilliant skills flashed through the air, thrilling the audience gathered around to watch.
"As expected of Master Ren, the Hero of the Sword! He's so powerful!"
"Master Ren is so cool and handsome, —so heroic!"
"Not just Master Ren, but his whole team is strong. You can't compare them to us low-level adventurers."
"Absolutely fantastic! It's incredible!"
The spectators marveled at Ren's strength, though the truth was that Ren heavily relied on a large amount of potions during the fight. Without them, the outcome of the battle would have been uncertain. For Ren, though, it was normal—like a gamer using health potions during a boss fight. He saw it as just another part of his strength.
Despite the reliance on potions, Ren kept his cool demeanor, raising his head slightly as he soaked in the admiration of the crowd.
"Master Ren, the materials have been harvested," one of his adventurers reported. It was clear Ren wasn't just there for glory—he was also after valuable dragon materials to craft new equipment.
"Good," Ren replied with satisfaction. Then, he turned to the crowd. "You can take whatever's left."
Since the dragon was far too large to transport entirely, Ren only kept the materials he needed, leaving the rest as a gift to the spectators.
"Thank you, Master Ren!" The audience expressed their gratitude before approaching the dragon's massive corpse. Some started scraping off scales or cutting chunks of meat, perhaps to taste dragon meat for the first time. Most, though, simply watched in awe, knowing the best materials were already taken by Ren.
"Let's move out!" Ren ordered his party, and they soon left the scene, heading along the mountain path.
By the afternoon, Ren's group found themselves on a narrow trail when they spotted a caravan approaching from the opposite direction. Leading the caravan was a large, happy Filo bird pulling a carriage, while a group of young men, seemingly followers, were pulling another heavily-loaded cart behind.
Ren's attention was drawn to the strange sight of humans pulling a cart—a rare occurrence, especially since there were no signs of them being slaves. He didn't recognize the group at first, but as they approached, it became clear.
"Jason?" Ren finally realized. "So, it's you."
Jason, sitting comfortably in the carriage, raised an eyebrow. "Ren. Your team looks rather luxurious."
It was a true observation. Ren's team boasted dragon mounts worth a fortune, and even the adventurers following him rode valuable monster mounts.
"Luxurious, you say?" Ren replied coolly. "But it's not as excessive as your team. Two carriages, and one is pulled by people? Are they slaves? You know, as a hero, it's not a great look to be buying slaves."
Ren's tone was condescending, but Jason's companions didn't take kindly to his words.
"Take that back!" one of the men pulling the carriage shouted. "We're not slaves! We're loyal followers of the Shield Hero!"
Ren narrowed his eyes. "Followers pulling a cart? Jason, your lack of humanity is appalling. You should reflect on what it means to be a hero. We should uphold honor, not treat people like animals."
"Lord Shield Hero is training us!" one of the followers protested. "Please show some respect!"
"Yeah, apologize! Lord Shield Hero isn't what you think!"
Ren crossed his arms, scoffing. "Training? You call this training?"
The adventurers accompanying Ren glanced at the second carriage, which was loaded with stones.
"Haha… pulling stones as 'training'? Have you all gone mad?"
"This is ridiculous. You'll never get stronger this way. Only by constantly fighting monsters can you level up!"
The adventurers following Ren Amaki laughed heartily at the expense of Jason team, ridiculing their training as if it were the funniest joke they'd ever heard.
Jack, his expression cold and serious, slowly put down the rope he had been pulling and drew his short knife. Without a flicker of emotion, he said, "Master Shield Hero, please give the order. Let us kill them!"
One after another, the rest of the group followed suit, kneeling with one knee on the ground, eyes red with fury. A bloodthirsty aura radiated from them as they, too, called out, "Master Shield Hero, give the order! We can't stand it anymore!"
The idea of pulling the carriage for training had been Jason's. To them, anyone who questioned it was not just insulting their efforts but spitting on the Shield Hero's wisdom. Their loyalty to Jason was unshakable, and they couldn't tolerate any disrespect towards him.
"If it weren't for Master Shield Hero's orders, we'd have torn them apart already," one muttered under his breath.
"Haha... look at these brats," one of Ren's adventurers sneered. "You think you can act tough? Go back to pulling your little cart."
"Yeah, you're not even in our league," another added smugly. "We're all level 30. You're just some kids with muscles. You couldn't lay a finger on us!"
Their mocking continued. Although they had seen Jason's power, the fact that his followers were a ragtag group of boys and girls, many still in their teens, made the adventurers overconfident. They had just slain a dragon, after all, and their confidence was at its peak. They saw no real threat from these young followers, who wore tattered equipment and didn't seem to pose much of a challenge.
Ren , however, grew uneasy. He noticed the subtle shift in Jason's expression—the slight upward curl of his lips—and a sense of foreboding washed over him. He quickly stepped in, trying to de-escalate the situation. "Jason, they're just talking casually. Don't take it to heart," Ren said, attempting to calm the tension.
But Jason's faint smile only widened into a grin, and soon, he erupted into a maniacal laugh. "Just talking? I don't think so," he replied, his voice filled with amusement and menace. He stepped to the edge of the carriage, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he shouted to his followers, "Boys! Go up and kill them. Don't hold back. Deal with them however you like! I'll make sure to crown the winner!"
With that command, the air grew thick with tension, and Jason's followers rose, weapons in hand, ready to unleash their fury.
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