Chapter 93


    vin retraced his steps back to Griffin''s Roost. This time, he traveled much faster than on his


    outward journey, but as he neared Griffin''s Roost, he stumbled upon a strange sight.


    As dusk approached, vin bathed beneath a waterfall in a valley, caught a trout, and was


    preparing to start a fire to cook it when someone suddenly burst into the valley.


    Staggering, with tattered clothes and dark shackles hanging from his limbs, the man looked like a


    prisoner. He swayed weakly and wearily.


    vin frowned slightly and slowly stood up, his right hand reaching for the throwing knife at his belt,


    vignt.


    The man''s hair was disheveled, his body was filthy, and he seemed surprised to find someone in


    the valley. He stood at the entrance to the valley for a while, then slowly backed away.


    But at that moment, shouts came from the old woods outside the valley, sounding like a group of


    people rushing this way.


    The man''s hair was matted to his face, making it hard to see his expression, but vin could feel


    his internal struggle. The voices grew louder, and the man gritted his teeth and turned to flee.


    vin suddenly pointed deeper into the valley. "Hide there!"


    The man looked into the valley, then back at vin, said nothing, and stumbled to the deepest part


    of the valley. There, thick vines and a hidden nook offered concealment.


    vin acted as though nothing had happened, sitting on a rock and roasting his trout.


    Before long, a group of men in ck tunics rushed into the valley. Their presence was strong, like


    unsheathed swords, and their intensity could be felt from afar.


    They saw vin by theke, cooking his fish, and all frowned in unison, not rushing in.


    vin tensed inwardly but forced himself to look up calmly. The group wore matching clothes and


    curved knives, and all wore white masks with only two narrow slits, giving them an eerie


    appearance.


    "Did someone pass through here?" one of them asked vin, his voice deep and heavy. His eyes


    behind the mask stared at vin coldly.


    vin looked at them and then around, continuing to flip his trout. "Are you speaking to me?"


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    "Is there someone else here?" the man in ck asked, his tone growing colder.


    "If you want some fish, I can share. If you''re looking for trouble, I''m game," vin said calmly,


    bluffing to intimidate them, ready to dive into the nearbyke if things went awry. Theke seemed


    small, but a channel beneath led to a raging river outside. He knew the terrain well, or he wouldn''t


    have dared to rest and dine here so boldly.


    "Heh, an arrogant boy," the group scoffed, yet none entered the valley, feeling a hint of caution. This


    was deep in Cloudveil Woods, a ce rife with danger, where it was difficult for a lone person to


    survive. The youth not only appeared neat and clean, as if he had just bathed, but he was also


    leisurely cooking fish. Either he was truly confident, or he hadpanions who were temporarily


    absent. The woods were often frequented by formidable figures training their Protégés.


    They had a mission and didn''t want any trouble, so after a while, they all retreated.


    vin continued to cook his fish, at ease. The man concealed in the valley did not make a hurried


    appearance, waiting until the sky turned dark and the group did not return. Feeling relieved, vin


    let out a sigh. Gradually, the man made his appearance.


    "Care for some? It''s just right," vin offered, dividing the golden-brown trout, cing half on a leaf


    beside him, and eating the other half himself.


    The man stood for quite some time, and only when vin had almost finished did he approach,


    take a look at vin, and begin to eat voraciously. The man was likely starving as he finished


    quickly.


    vin passed him his own piece. The man didn''t hesitate, taking it and devouring it greedily.


    vin asked nothing. Saving him was a simple gesture, but it didn''t mean he wanted to get


    involved, especially since the group''s attire suggested they were from some special faction.


    Deep into the night, the man did not leave and curled up behind the vines. He was emaciated, his


    clothes were in tatters like rags, and heavy shackles on his wrists, ankles, and waist left shocking


    bloody marks. His face was covered in grime and blood, making it hard to discern his true


    appearance.


    In the darkness, he stared nkly at the weeds before him, his thin body shivering asionally


    from cold or pain.