Berserk: The Prophet

Trunks, sitting to the side, almost choked on his tea, but he tried his best to hold it in, even though he couldn't help it at all. Well, at first he also thought Seranty was a girl.

"He...hahaha, he...puhahahaha..."

Seranti's face had already scabbed over, but in order not to attract unnecessary attention, she still wore a veil, which gave her a rather charming look, reminiscent of a Dessian woman.

The tailor shop owner was a little confused. Why was she bringing her wife to buy men's clothing? Wasn't she going on a trip?

"Cough cough... It's okay, this one will do."

Trunks readily bought the set of standard equipment, since a well-maintained mounted archer is very valuable in the early stages of a team's formation.

We strolled through the market to see what we needed before heading out to collect it. But first, we needed to buy some medicine for this guy's face, so we went to a pharmacy and bought a few items.

"Here, this is medicine. Applying it to your face will help it heal quickly."

Trunks opened the scallop shell used to store the medicine and introduced it to Seranthi. Seranthi smelled it through the veil; it had the fresh scent of aloe vera and some flower petals and leaves. The effect should be quite good. However, Seranthi felt that it wasn't a bad thing that his face wasn't pretty, so he wouldn't always be targeted.

"I don't..." I don't need...

Before Seranty could refuse, Trunks had already lifted his veil and hidden his face in a deserted corner of the apothecary. Several gruesome scabs had formed on his once beautiful face. Trunks carefully applied the medicine to Seranty's face, finally letting out a sigh of relief and alleviating his inner obsessive-compulsive disorder. Beautiful things should remain perfect forever, regardless of others.

What are you doing... being so kind to a stranger...?

Seranty's ears drooped under his hood like a cat with its fur standing on end. His hands had been clenched tightly, and although it was clear that Trunks didn't mean it that way, he was still very uncomfortable being so close and making such intimate gestures, until Trunks put his veil back on.

"Whatever the reason, your beauty is not your sin; the sin lies with those with filthy thoughts." Trunks had not forgotten Seranty's fate when they first met. It was not surprising that an elf with such beauty would be captured and auctioned off by humans, because most humans were deeply sinful.

Beauty is not a sin... but rather a sin committed by those with wicked thoughts...

"Hmm." Seranti responded softly. Perhaps it was his past experiences that made him feel inferior, or perhaps it was the first time someone had come to comfort him.

Medicine is a precious and scarce necessity in any era, so buying a few and carrying them in your bag won't be a problem. Walking through the market, Trunks passed a small vendor selling masks. Intrigued, he stopped at the stall, thinking of Thranduil's face, which he didn't want others to see. He smiled at the vendor and carefully selected a mask. Hmm... perhaps this rather somber-looking half-wooden mask would suit Thranduil quite well; it possessed a strange sense of mystery and intimidation.

Trunks took the mask in his hand; it wasn't as light as he had imagined—it was rather heavy.

"This customer has a good eye! This was made when my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was still a dwarf. Wearing this will definitely make you a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield!" The shopkeeper was a short, chubby guy. Seeing that someone was finally going to buy his mask after he had been squatting there all morning, he started talking non-stop.

"Thranty, how does this mask look?" Trunks asked Thrandt, gesturing to his own face.

"Tch...looks like a mischievous brat. Stop fooling around, Trunks, everyone's waiting for us to get back."

Trunks saw the man chuckle, and a brilliant idea was born.

"Boss, give me 26 of these standard masks!"

The shopkeeper and Seranty were both stunned. Seranty rubbed his forehead, wondering why they had to spend money on something like this, and was about to pull Trunks away.

"But... these are the only two I have at home right now, they're a pair. Do you want to see any other masks?"

"Wow, only two left! Look, look!" Trunks squatted down and started picking them up like a child.

Seranti: "..." There's really nothing I can do.

............

He then went to the weapons merchant to get Thranlan a good knife and his usual weapons, bought horses, and returned to the tavern before dusk with large bags of food, masks, and a few necessities.

Thanks to Trunks's ingenious idea, his men are to all wear wooden masks and go on adventures. The team's name is... Hurricane Blade Rangers!

Tonight we're destined to stay in Lorraine. We've paid for food and lodging, but all the other rooms are full, so Trunks and Seranty are sharing a room. No one else will be staying in this room tonight, since we've paid for a private room.

"Wear this once your facial injuries have healed, then you won't have to worry about anyone trying to take advantage of you anymore." Trunks handed Seranty one of the masks, which sold for 500 denarii.

"...So, this is why you bought the mask?" Seranti looked at the mask in his hand and fell into deep thought.

"I guess so. With everyone wearing these masks, it doesn't look strange. It gave me some inspiration for this team. It's pretty cool, right?"

"..."

Trunks glanced at Thranduil quietly, seemingly pleased with his idea. Thranduil didn't know what to say. This was the first gift he had received; the clothes and mask were given to him by this seemingly carefree young man, but it seemed to be just an appearance.

.........

Together, they traversed every corner of Barkley's land, drawing their swords to punish injustices they encountered. Their companions grew in number along the way, and when short of money, they took on bounty missions issued by the town mayors. It was a carefree journey. Trunks was a shrewd businessman, using his initial capital to establish factories in various towns, eventually developing them into small trading companies. This was more than enough to cover the expenses of the regular army. To avoid attracting the attention of his family, he used the alias "Hurricane Blade" Lantus, and his former squad became known as the "Hurricane Blade" Knights. Having gradually built up their own team's strength, they marched alone towards the southern front, participating in battles against heretics and the Serpent Cult, making outstanding contributions to Barkley's border defense.

As for Thrandt, with his scimitar at his waist and his superb horsemanship and throwing knife skills, he was known as the "Eye of the Hurricane Blade" by the people of Barkley. He and Trunks were known as the "Twin Heroes of the Hurricane Blade," and they were quite famous in the land of Barkley. Bards sang the heroic deeds of the "Twin Heroes of the Hurricane Blade," Lantus and Thrandt, as well as the bravery of the 24 "Hurricane Blade Rangers" under their command. Although there are not many "Hurricane Blade Rangers" left in the world, their deeds are still widely known.

Trunks' father saw through his disguise, because the king had noticed him and wanted to grant him a title and land. He couldn't disobey the letter home, after all, offending the king was a crime of deceiving the monarch, so he had to go back. This adventure involved life and death and separation, and it also made the young man who had grown into a man understand the ways of the world, see things clearly, and mature a lot.

“I have to go back, Seranti.”

Trunks held the letter from his father and looked at the still unsettled southern front. His gaze deepened, and the boy's voice had matured considerably over the past four years. It was the voice of a truly steady man, sounding like someone who was always reliable.