HIRED AS A BILLIONAIRES WIFE

The autumn wind was crisp and cool as the morning dew settled over the land. Amidst the bustling preparations, a woman in a scarlet dress stood tall, her figure a stark contrast against the backdrop of the busy scene. Behind her, a team of workers heaved sacks onto wagons, while others secured the cargo with tight knots and waterproof tarps. A squad of knights stood at attention nearby.

From a distance, a knight with violet tresses galloped towards them, calling out to his comrades, "Men, are you ready? Make haste, we depart as the sun rises." He then turned to the woman in red, "Cynthia, are you prepared? We set off soon." Cynthia, with a gentle twist of her head, smiled back at the knight, "I am always ready, for I carry but a single sword wherever I go."

The knight, without further ado, was about to leave when another knight approached, shouting, "Rowland, all 20 wagons are loaded and ready. I checked them myself, no issues, we can leave at any time." Rowland frowned and leaned in to the newcomer, "Woodman, how many times must I tell you, even if you are my brother, in the army, you address me as Sir." Woodman let out a dry chuckle, offering no response.

Rowland then barked at another knight, "Ludwig, double-check the wagons." Woodman, his face flushing with protest, started, "Rowland, Ive just checked..."

But Rowland cut him off mid-sentence, bellowing, "Sir!" He continued in a hushed tone, "Stop causing trouble. I never trust you with tasks. I fear you might undercount the wagons again."

Unlike Rowlands flowing violet locks, Woodmans own short, purple hair stood in disarray, sticking out in all directions, rivaling a haystack. He was even taller than Rowland, albeit much leaner. It was no wonder his brother had little faith in him; during the last cargo transport, Woodman had miscounted the wagons, mistaking 19 for 20, leading to a wasted search party for the missing vehicle.

Ludwig returned from his inspection, reporting to Rowland, "Sir Smith, the check is complete. There are 20 cargo wagons present, all secured and waterproofed. The carriages, axles, wheels, and frames show no signs of damage; the horses are in good health, with no abnormalities noted." He saluted crisply and stepped aside.

Rowland Smith nodded, clearly satisfied with the Germanic efficiency. Mimicking Ludwig, he rode to a platform, saluted, and reported, "Lord Terry, the caravan is ready. The escort consists of one light cavalry squadron from the Lionheart Regiment, four from the Spirit of the Lion, two from the Freerider Squadron, two from the Red God Regiment, and one from the Martial Soul Regiment, totaling ten squadrons of 1000 men. They are now formed and await your orders."

Lord Terry stepped forward as 1000 cavalrymen formed four squares below. In the distance, a crowd of well-wishers watched in silence. He gazed at the rising sun and proclaimed, "Warriors, the sun has risen, and it is time to depart. On behalf of all the residents of Rayne City, I send you our blessings. We will pray for your safe return." With a wave of his hand, he concluded, "Go now, and may you return soon."

Rowland Smith turned his horse and bellowed, "Lets go." Leading the procession towards the city gates, a young man with a bow called out, "Father, wait for me." An elder with graying hair waved back, "Do well, Blake. Ill be waiting."

The avenue to the city gates was lined with farewelling crowds, and the procession moved swiftly under Rowlands command. Rayne City, nestled in a remote valley surrounded by mountains on three sides with a plain and forest to the south, was self-sufficient despite its isolation. The citys lack of mineral resources necessitated regular trade caravans to exchange their surplus food and leather for much-needed minerals.

The 1200-mile journey, while not exceedingly long, required a standard pace of 60 miles per day, accounting for a 20-day one-way trip, a 10-day layover for trade and rest, and another 20 days for the return, totaling a two-month expedition.

The 1000 cavalrymen were not there to guard against bandits but to protect against the threats of magical beasts and beast-spirit people. These creatures, appearing on the Panbone Continent over 200 years ago, were a mystery, with low-tier beasts resembling common animals but with enhanced abilities and high-tier beasts that were terrifying in appearance and power.

Beast-spirit people were even more fearsome, seemingly evolved from magical beasts, with low-tier individuals retaining beastly traits and high-tier ones nearing human-like forms, wielding weapons and even riding magical beasts.

Rowland Smith, as the citys defense commander, had slain many beast-spirit people but rarely encountered high-tier ones. Despite his curiosity, he preferred not to cross paths with them.

The 1000 cavalrymen were divided into four squares, with the Smith brothers leading two cavalry and one scout squadron at the forefront. Cynthia led three cavalry squadrons to guard the caravan, while Ludwig and Blake Ward led three cavalry and one scout squadron to secure the rear.

Blake Ward suddenly drew his bow and arrow, firing at a tree canopy. An arrow disappeared into the foliage, and moments later, a dark figure fell with the arrow. "He has the eyes of an eagle; it seems hes more suited to lead the Hawk Squadron than James," thought Rowland Smith, though he kept this to himself.

Silence fell, but everyone was aware that the journey had begun with the appearance of a low-tier harpy, signaling the start of a perilous trek.