As the son of the Lord of Dorey City, Andrew had no idea that, with his appearance, Ed had already begun to grow suspicious.

Seeing Ed lost in thought, Andrew assumed that his earlier threat had taken effect. He smirked arrogantly, his face filled with disdain, and continued, "Kid, you'd better keep your distance from Melissa. What happened today was just a warning. If you back off from her, I'll let you off the hook this time!"

To his surprise, Ed slowly replied, "I don't really care. The warhorses here aren't anything I'm particularly interested in. I was just planning to buy one as a temporary substitute."

"I could just as easily buy one of those warhorses that might have infectious diseases, then purchase the medicine to treat them, and still use them."

The expression of disdain and mockery on Andrew's face grew even more pronounced as he said, "Don't even dream about it. The only pharmacies in Dorey City that sell medicine for warhorses are part of my family's business! You want to buy the medicine? Keep dreaming!"

Ed sighed after hearing Andrew's words and turned to the owner of Hurricane Horsewalk. "I just want to buy a warhorse. Hurricane Horsewalk isn't owned by the lord's estate, so why can't you sell one to me?"

Before the owner of Hurricane Horsewalk could respond, Andrew impatiently cut him off, "Hmph, Hurricane Horsewalk isn't... well, even though it's not owned by the lord's estate, they wouldn't dare offend me!"

Looking at Andrew, who had started his sentence one way and then changed it midway, Ed's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile.

If Andrew had admitted it outright, perhaps Ed wouldn't have thought much about it.

But this sudden change in words made Ed instantly realize that there was a secret hidden here—something that others shouldn't know.

He recalled the inscriptions on the monument in the ruins, the fall of Sloka City, the arrival of Finniel Morton in a month, and the current outbreak of disease. Ed had a nagging feeling that all of these things might be connected.

But for now, he lacked some critical pieces of information.

Today had started with the intention of buying a warhorse, but he hadn't found one that he really liked. Andrew's threats had been useless to him; in fact, they had made Ed more keenly aware of the scent of something hidden.

Ignoring Andrew, Ed looked at him with the gaze of someone observing a fool. Andrew, oblivious, was still excited and proud, not noticing the subtle shift in Ed's attitude.

Andrew believed that Ed must have been intimidated by his status and position, and that his threat had worked. He thought Ed was already considering distancing himself from Melissa. So, Andrew confidently walked up to Ed and was about to pat him on the shoulder.

Ed's gaze hardened, and he stared at Andrew with icy indifference, causing Andrew to instinctively retract his outstretched arm. He took a step back and warned:

"I'll give you a few days. If you don't learn your lesson, you'll regret it."

Ed couldn't be bothered to respond to Andrew. He simply turned and left Hurricane Horsewalk with Iris.

Once outside, Ed asked directly, "Iris, do you know who's behind Hurricane Horsewalk?"

Iris looked at Ed with a strange expression and replied, "You don't know?"

Ed was momentarily taken aback. How could he know?

Wait, Ed suddenly realized something and speculated, "The Moon Eclipse Demon Hunter Association?"

Iris nodded vigorously, saying, "Yes, I thought you knew. After all, you're a member of the Moon Eclipse Demon Hunter Association."

After hearing Iris's words, Ed took a deep breath. His earlier assumptions based on Andrew's behavior were likely correct—so Hurricane Horsewalk was backed by the Moon Eclipse Demon Hunter Association?

There was something off about this. Something was definitely wrong!

He had joined the Moon Eclipse Demon Hunter Association only recently, so he wasn't familiar with much of the information. He could ask Melissa later. Maybe she knew something useful.

With that thought in mind, Ed decided not to continue exploring. He and Iris began heading back. Just as they reached the entrance of the market, they heard loud voices. Someone was crying out:

"Please, sirs, I beg you! My wife is seriously ill and needs a lot of money for treatment. These three warhorses are all I have left."

"They're really not sick! They just didn't get enough rest and were too tired from the journey here. They're just exhausted and foaming at the mouth!"

"Please, I'm begging you, show some mercy."

A few of the staff at the horse market, clearly impatient, responded: "If you want to sell your horses, buy the medicine to treat them. Otherwise, they'll be taken for quarantine!"

"Quit talking nonsense, just get lost!"

Ed turned toward the source of the noise and saw a man, appearing to be in his thirties, looking exhausted. He was holding his wife, who was coughing heavily, and was pleading desperately.

Behind him, three warhorses, looking lethargic, were being controlled by other staff. One of them was entirely black, with a white lightning-shaped mark on its forehead. It was foaming at the mouth.

Strangely, though, this particular warhorse wasn't convulsing like the others. It was simply panting heavily, seemingly just tired from the journey.

The man continued pleading, "Please, sirs, my wife really can't wait any longer. I don't have the money to buy the medicine. If I can't sell these warhorses soon, the doctor says she won't survive the night."

"Please, I beg you, please!"

The woman's coughing grew louder, almost drowning out the man's pleas. However, the staff remained unmoved. Their attitudes were exceedingly stern, and they paid no attention to the man's desperation.

Then, to Ed's surprise, something unusual happened. As if sensing its owner's despair, the warhorse with the white lightning-shaped mark on its forehead slowly sank to its knees in front of the staff!

This scene left everyone around them stunned. The staff stood frozen, clearly shocked; they had never seen anything like this before.

Someone muttered, "It's probably a coincidence. The horse is about to fall ill, too weak to stand properly, so it's doing this out of exhaustion."

Hearing this, others also thought it was a coincidence. After all, an ordinary warhorse couldn't be so intelligent.

Upon hearing the onlookers suggest that the warhorse was about to fall ill, the staff's expressions grew even more serious. They began spraying lime water over the horse in an attempt to prevent any possible disease from spreading.

Iris, unable to watch any longer, gently pulled Ed forward, leading him away from the scene.

Just then, the warhorse that had been kneeling suddenly seemed to notice something. It turned its head toward them and slowly shifted its body, positioning itself so that its kneeling direction was now aimed at Ed.

Ed felt a strange emotion emanating from the horse's eyes—sorrow, helplessness, and a kind of silent plea.

He wondered if he was imagining things. He wasn't sure why the horse had changed its position, but he felt an overwhelming impulse to buy it.

He had seen many warhorses at Hurricane Horsewalk earlier, yet none of them had sparked any desire in him to purchase one. But now, looking at this potentially sick horse, Ed was suddenly very eager to buy it.

Iris, speaking quietly beside Ed, said, "That couple looks so pitiful, Ed. I want to help them."

Without hesitation, Ed nodded. He pushed through the crowd of onlookers and stepped forward.

The cloak symbolizing his status as a Hunter, along with the twin swords on his back, quickly alerted the people around him to his identity as a Hunter.

The staff member, who had been unusually harsh just moments ago, now spoke in a much softer tone. He asked, "Esteemed Hunter, please don't misunderstand. We're just following the regulations. Sick warhorses are either disposed of or need to be treated with medicine. There's nothing we can do about it."

He had assumed that Ed thought he was bullying the poor man and was trying to find fault with him.

To his surprise, Ed responded directly, "Can I buy all three of these warhorses at the market price?"

The staff member was taken aback. He thought for a moment before answering, "Well, you can, but you'll need to buy the medicine to treat them. Otherwise, they could spread the disease to other warhorses."

At that moment, a voice from the entrance of the market broke in, loud and irritating.

Andrew's condescending voice rang out, "He can't buy the medicine. Take those three warhorses away immediately and dispose of them!"

The staff member instantly turned toward Andrew, his expression shifting to one of deep subservience. He bowed his head and said, "Yes, Young Master Andrew."

Hearing this, the man holding his sick wife lost all rational thought. He screamed desperately, "No! You can't take them! They're not sick, and they won't spread anything! My wife is depending on them to survive!"

"What you're doing is sentencing my wife to death!" he cried.

Andrew sneered disdainfully and nonchalantly said, "Not having the money for treatment is your own problem. It's the rule to dispose of sick horses. I've told them to do it. Is there a problem with that?"

The man paused, looking at Andrew's high-and-mighty demeanor, and then slowly asked, "My own problem? If it weren't for this strange infectious disease, my family wouldn't have gone bankrupt. We wouldn't be down to just these last three warhorses. They survived the last outbreak, so there's no way they could get sick again!"

Andrew, growing impatient, waved his hand dismissively and said, "I said they're sick, and that's final. Each outbreak of disease is different. Someone, get these three horses taken care of!"

As the staff began to move toward the horses, Ed slowly stepped forward. Without hesitation, he drew his steel sword, and in a calm voice, he said:

"I'll see who dares to move them."

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