Chapter 33: Wandering Knight Set
Wade swung his right arm, tossing the longsword in an arc before letting it fall to the ground.
He used both his hands and feet to climb out of the puddle.
His body was soaking wet. Before the water could freeze into frost, he went inside the house to find a dry towel to wipe the water off his bones and sword.
Unable to find a suitable scabbard, he casually grabbed a piece of linen cloth to wrap around the blade.
This longsword was too special; its color clearly distinguished it from ordinary iron swords. The name engraved on the hilt and the iron anvil both unmistakably displayed its value.
As the saying goes, wealth should not be flaunted; good things must be hidden.
He tied the longsword to his waist, put his robe back on, and climbed onto the roof of a stone house.
Looking into the distance, vast snowfields stretched before his eyes. Nearby were small patches of fir and black pine forests. Beyond those woods, continuous mountain ranges could be seen.
The terrain around the village was relatively flat, part of the plains. When the ice and snow melted with the arrival of spring and summer, this place should be very beautiful—an ideal place to live.
But right now, the place was deserted. After identifying directions, Wade left the empty village.
He headed toward the mountains, where a river flowed. Sven’s pirate group used the frozen riverbed and snowy terrain as roads, driving sleds to reach Tania.
That place wasn’t far from the village. The sun hadn’t moved far from overhead when Wade spotted the riverbed. There was some vegetation nearby, but most was withered. Except for the pine trees, the leaves on other plants had fallen cleanly, leaving only dry branches.
Two sleds had been left among the trees by the pirates. To find the exact location, Wade had to go in and search.
He split up with Mia; she was responsible for low-altitude scouting, while he wove through the denser bushes.
After a short while, Wade uncovered the discarded oak sled by brushing aside dry branches.
It was a heavy sled with an iron-plated frame. The inside was filled with snow. It had been abandoned here for ten days, forgotten in the corner.
Originally, there should have been two sleds here, along with more than a dozen reindeer used to pull them. It seemed the surviving pirate remnants took the reindeer and the other sled when they fled.
They must have run in a hurry. At the front of the sled, Wade found the reins cut off. That night, the pirates had used swords to sever the reins tying the reindeer. Maybe some rode the deer, fleeing across the snowfield in a frantic dash.
This was actually a good thing, meaning the pirates didn’t have time to organize the supplies on the sled.
Wade called Mia back and jumped into the sled to search.
In the center of the sled was an animal hide sail shaped like a ship’s sail. When reaching the open ice plain, pirates would spread the hide sail and use the north wind to propel the sled.
Just this sled alone was very valuable. Comparable to a carriage, this heavy sled could transport twenty people fully loaded, plus plundered grain, barrels of wine, and captives.
The iron on the runners and rivets alone weighed dozens of kilograms. If sold, it could fetch a hefty sum—at least several hundred silver coins.
Unfortunately, Wade couldn’t move it by himself. Vikings used reindeer and Icelandic horses to pull sleds. When encountering steep slopes or ice crevices, oarsmen would disembark to push and pull. This wasn’t a vehicle one person could handle alone. Wade could only see what useful things were inside.
He walked back and forth in the sled like a sailor on deck.
There were indeed many items: spare weapons and armor, pirate rations, and clothes.
He even found a helmet—a fully enclosed black iron helmet, not the typical style Vikings used. It must have been looted from somewhere.
The helmet was quite old and covered with rust. It was tied to a seat, like a trophy belonging to some pirate. It looked like the kind of helmet worn by a knight or town guard.
It should have had matching full-body armor, but Wade didn’t find any. He searched everywhere; only a lonely rusty helmet was left to face the northwest wind.
Wade took it off the seat and put it on his head.
He squatted by the riverbed, using the ice surface as a mirror to observe himself.
This thing completely covered his skull. Even up close, no bones inside the helmet could be seen.
Not bad, suitable for disguise.
He pocketed the old helmet, then changed into seal skin boots and greaves fit for walking in snow. He armed himself with gloves, chainmail, and a wool coat, making sure no part of him was exposed.
He tried to avoid using equipment with Viking characteristics, such as their beloved conical iron helmets.
He only took those old, rusty things that were falling apart. He dressed himself like a wandering knight rather than a well-equipped Viking.
He also found a suitable scabbard for that longsword.
He stood before the ice, hoisted the sword, and struck a pose.
Hmm, it felt ready to pass on the flame.
Isn’t a skeleton basically undead?
This outfit made Wade look less like a creepy undead and more like a silent, impoverished adventurer.
Like someone forced by an empty wallet to patch together gear from lousy merchants—just by looking, one could tell he was down and out.
Wearing this, blending into smaller towns or villages wouldn’t be a problem.
Entering a walled city would require guard identification, but small places had no such rules. As long as he had money, he could even gesture with his fingers to spend a night in a tavern, buying a few quarts of rum.
Wade was very satisfied with his new outfit. He would explore outside boldly, try to interact with people, and exchange information.
Finally, he found a deerskin bag and packed some items:
About half a kilo of dried herring, two bags of wine stored in seal skin pouches, an old crossbow bolt, half a hard black bread loaf, and a palm-sized piece of cheese.
Skeletons didn’t need to eat, but these supplies made him seem more human, preventing suspicion.
He carried a longbow on his back. Besides Sven’s heirloom longsword, he also took an old iron sword.
Like a monster hunter, one silver sword and one steel sword.
It felt like gearing up as a beginner adventurer, setting off on a journey to start an adventure.
Long ago, when he first arrived in this land, he dreamed of such a grand adventure.
Sadly, reality knocked him down. He became a baker, busy every day by the oven.
That period wasn’t bad—peaceful and happy enough.
Selling bread every day, chatting with customers, basking in the sun; the day would pass just like that.
If he could leave that wasteland, maybe find a remote place and open a bakery.
Making bread and living a simple life day by day—actually, that wasn’t so bad.