Chapter 94: Briber (2)

Cadogan, having packed her things, immediately headed to where her younger brother Lagan was.

The establishment named “Wine in the Left Hand”, located in the back alley pleasure district, was one of the businesses managed by Gadum, providing various services to nobles and merchants.

Lagan and other members of the White Scale tribe were responsible for managing the surrounding area, centered around Wine in the Left Hand.

“Ah, Miss Cadogan, you’re here.”

The guard standing at the entrance, a barbarian thoroughly accustomed to city ways, grinned broadly and bowed to her.

“Is Lagan here?”

“He’s entertaining Gadum’s guests right now. Huh? Miss Cadogan?”

Cadogan headed towards the VIP room located in the deepest part of the establishment.

“Oi! You don’t need to send any more—huh?”

The man exuding a hearty atmosphere—Lagan—recognized her.

He was seated with an obese middle-aged man, each with a person beside them. He was entertaining a merchant from out of town, recommended by Gadum.

“What brings you here?”

He showed both pleasure and surprise at Cadogan’s appearance.

Cadogan usually vehemently refused his repeated invitations to visit his shop. Something about alcohol being a means to approach the gods, only to be consumed during rituals…

“Whatever it is, do it later. As you can see, I’m busy right now.”

Lagan waved his hand dismissively.

Just then, the merchant beside him looked Cadogan up and down.

“Mr. Lagan. What’s that girl’s name?”

“Huh? What. You fancy her?”

“It’s my first time with a barbarian, but seeing one now it’s unexpectedly—Gack!”

Lagan grabbed the merchant’s neck and stood up.

The obese man—easily the size of two grown adults—was hoisted into the air without effort.

“You pig bastard. How dare you treat my sister like a whore?”

“Gack—S-sorry…! I, I didn’t recognize—”

The merchant pleaded, his face slowly turning purple.

Lagan truly intended to kill him, and the merchant was horrified by this fact.

Crazy barbarian bastard, I’m your boss’ guest…!

Cadogan sighed exasperatedly at the sight.

“Lagan.”

“…”

Her younger brother grinned widely and released his hand.

“Consider yourself lucky my sister is so generous.”

“G-gagh—Gack! Th-thank you…! Thank you!”

“Instead of thanking me, you should be apologizing to my sister. Is your head just for decoration?”

“S-so sorry, my lady…! I didn’t know who you—”

“I get it, so take your lot and get out.”

“Yes, yes…! Hey, let’s go!”

The merchant hastily led his people out of the room.

Lagan, who had already loosened his top and was about to heat things up, grimaced the moment he found himself alone with his sister.

“Can’t you see I’m working, Cadogan? What’s wrong? What’s going on that you’re acting so impulsively? It’s not like you.”

“Pack your things and gather the others right now.”

“Huh?”

“We’ve been in Bondalles too long. It’s about time we leave.”

Instead of answering, Lagan took a swig straight from the bottle, a top-shelf liquor from the shop, and downed half of it in one go.

His face stayed composed, but there was a hint of dissatisfaction.

“City drinks are strong, yet they make it feel like you haven’t drunk any.”

“Lagan.”

“Still, I like the liquor here. Got used to it, I guess. The others seem to be getting used to it too, Cadogan.”

Lagan fixed his sister with a plainly weary look.

“What is it now? What happened that you’re making such a fuss?”

“That bastard Gadum picked on the wrong person this time.”

“Hah, and I wondered what it’s about. This again?”

It was common for Gadum to request “Spirit Treading” targeting powerful figures. Cadogan had occasionally expressed anxiety about it.

“Not again. This time it’s really different.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

Lagan burst out laughing.

Just a few days earlier, Cadogan had been anxious after using Spirit Treading on three powerful figures.

Lagan had resolved her worries with ease, and now, he clearly thought he could do the same again.

Cadogan scowled at her brother’s relaxed demeanor, which made that much all too obvious.

“Are you going to keep acting like this?”

“I’m thinking, okay? About how to reassure my cowardly sister.”

Cadogan’s patience reached its limit, and she stormed out of the room as if she no longer cared.

Lagan hastily stood up and followed her.

“Ugh, where are you going!”

“If you won’t go, I’ll take our people and go by ourselves.”

“Oh, you’re driving me crazy, Cadogan! Alright! I get it, so let’s do it this way! First, let’s try what we did back then again.”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“Argh! Hey! Even if it’s a waste of time, we have to at least try! If it turns out to be a waste of time like you say, I’ll follow your word without complaint. Alright?!”

“…”

Cadogan reluctantly agreed.

At that, Lagan gathered his most favored subordinates.

The barbarian mercenaries, who constituted a significant portion of Councilor Gadum’s forces, gathered in one place.

“Ugh, right when I’m busy. Let’s go. Since it’s come to this, I need to know what you saw too.”

The basement, which had seemed desolate when Cadogan was alone, transformed into a cramped and stuffy space once Lagan and the seven other barbarians entered.

They stood on the Spirit Treading sorcery circle newly drawn by Cadogan.

“Are we doing that again, Mr. Lagan?”

“Yeah. Who else will soothe Cadogan’s anxiety if not us?”

Lagan’s subordinates chuckled but held their tongues—responding poorly to his jokes about his sister could spell trouble. After all, the reason Lagan had been kicked out of the tribe was because he’d half-crippled the chieftain’s son for insulting her.

Thanks to his hot-blooded, belligerent nature, he was infamous as a battle maniac. Even within Bondalles, the tales of Lagan—who couldn’t be stopped, not even by Gadum, once enraged—was the stuff of grim legend.

“We don’t have time for this…”

They were about to enter the mental world crafted by Cadogan to initiate the Spirit Treading—and within it, they would fight.

This was how the warriors of the White Scale tribe prepared for battle. Through Spirit Treading, they would glimpse the karma of their potential enemies and conquer it.

It was believed that if they could overcome the karma of their target, they too would be able to achieve the same feats.

“By the way, what on earth did you see this time?”

“Dunno. She didn’t tell me either.”

Seeing them chatting, Cadogan wore a mischievous smile.

The Spirit Treading began.

“A n-necromancer…!”

A moment later, the warriors involuntarily retreated from the surging legion of the dead.

Cadogan wore a triumphant smile at their pathetic appearance.

“Starting to come to your senses now?”

But that smile didn’t last long.

“Necromancer? Interesting. Lads, prepare for battle!”

In an instant, Lagan’s face shifted, his fighting spirit igniting as he stepped into the necromancer’s path.

“…!”

“Prepare for battle!”

At Lagan’s command, the scattered tension immediately solidified. They formed up and engaged the necromancer.

Surprisingly, the battle remained evenly matched.

The terrifying power of a necromancer came from the number of deaths they could command. In that sense, the necromancer they faced now could only be considered newly born.

While still a fearsome being, its power was insufficient to fully embody the true meaning of a necromancer.

“We did it!!!”

“We defeated the necromancer!!!”

The necromancer’s form dissipated.

The barbarian warriors, led by Lagan, had succeeded in defeating the necromancer.

Of course, a necromancer couldn’t be destroyed by ordinary means. Their defeat was only possible here, in the mental world created and controlled by Cadogan.

But beyond that, one important truth had been proven, as this was a mental world crafted for Spirit Treading. It was clear that Lagan’s group possessed the strength to overcome this karma, just as the target of the Spirit Treading had.

What he could accomplish, they could too. And with Gadum backing them, there was no reason to fear him more than necessary.

Lagan smiled at his sister, silently conveying that assurance. His face was still flushed with the thrill of battle.

“…This isn’t all.”

“Really? That’s great. I was just starting to get warmed up anyway.”

In an instant, the world turned upside down. The chilling black fog that had shrouded everything faded, revealing a shallow pond.

Beautiful blue lotuses floated across the moonlit water. Like half-opened eyes, the partially bloomed flowers stirred a sense of longing in the beholder.

A woman stood among the lotuses.

Lagan whistled, and the other barbarian warriors’ eyes brightened.

The woman’s indigo bobbed hair gleamed in the moonlight, casting a soft blue glow. Her haughty presence blended seamlessly with the poignant beauty of the pond. Traces of training were evident in the perfectly fitted leather attire she wore.

Her appearance, reminiscent of a mysterious beast, ignited the barbarians’ thirst for conquest.

Subordinate Dorek approached the woman, while Lagan leered at the sight—until, in the blink of an eye, the woman vanished.

Before they realized it, she was already within arm’s reach of Dorek.

“Gack—gack—”

Dorek gurgled, struggling for breath.

The woman’s hand was choking him—no, it was piercing through him.

She pulled her hand from his neck. Torn flesh, shredded muscle, and broken bone should have impeded her movement, yet it was effortless, as though meeting no resistance.

The woman’s hand, emerging from within Dorek, held a piece of the organ that had supported his neck. She toyed with it as if it were clay, savoring the texture.

Dorek’s body, deprived of the support in his neck, collapsed. It was a death so unreal that even the barbarians, who had witnessed countless demises, were stunned.

All of this happened in the instant Lagan lost sight of her.

The joy and excitement from their victory over the necromancer had already vanished without a trace.

“…Interesting.”

Lagan stretched his lips into a wide grin, brimming with fighting spirit. He hurled the hand axe in his left hand with all his might.

Whoosh!

The barbarian’s axe sliced through the air in a vicious diagonal. Its path was unpredictable, its speed too fast to react to.

But the woman casually swung her hand against the axe. Its trajectory shifted as if defying nature.

The axe accelerated even further and—

Thwokk!

The sound came from near Lagan.

The axe he’d thrown had returned, embedding itself in the forehead of his subordinate, Damus.

Leaving his fallen comrade behind, Lagan charged at the woman. Her silhouette vanished once more, but he focused all his senses, refusing to miss her.

Their swords clashed.

Lagan felt her blade was light, and a smirk crept across his face. Believing he could easily discipline this impudent wench, a sadistic curve tugged at the lips of the battle maniac.

He pressed down on her sword, intending to mock her.

“You’re lighter than I thoouuurgh—”

His words cut off midway.

Lagan belatedly realized that the woman was holding her sword with only her right hand. And that realization came as the sword in her left hand pierced through his left eye.

As the strength in Lagan’s sword faltered, the woman held her blades steady, leaning her face toward him.

“Haaah…”

She exhaled a heated sigh, watching Lagan’s expression twist in panic and pain.

Lagan was a battle maniac. His reputation as a madman, who lost himself in excitement once a fight began, trailed him like a shadow.

“…”

But even he couldn’t understand the expression she wore now.

In the midst of battle—or rather, in the midst of slaughter—what kind of emotion was she feeling?

“Mo-mons—”

“Lagan!”

As Cadogan urgently screamed his name, Lagan noticed his wounds had already healed, clean and seamless.

He remembered that this was a world created by his sister. With her help, he could defeat this monster.

They had already forgotten their original purpose. Their thoughts were thoroughly consumed by the woman.

Lagan calmly retreated, forming up with his comrades in the same formation that had defeated the necromancer.

The busy movements of the barbarian warriors contrasted sharply with the woman’s leisurely pace. She moved with light, graceful steps, as if the world itself aided her—even though this was Cadogan’s creation.

The woman had already slipped through the gaps in their formation, now standing at their center.

It was a foolish act to willingly surround herself with enemies. Yet, she smiled joyfully, as if she desired exactly that.

Before they could fully comprehend the impossibility of her footwork, her actions continued.

Her sword swung once, drawing a line of blood. Behind that line, she was already executing the next move—and while that next move was underway, she was already in the midst of another.

The barbarians’ perception couldn’t keep up with her speed.

And when the flurry of strikes had ended—

“Gagh!”

“Arrgh!”

Only then did they feel the cutting edge of her blade, crumpling to the ground in agony.

Lagan was the only one who barely withstood the blows, still standing. But soon, he realized it was a mistake.

He should have fallen too if he didn’t want to be toyed with by this monster.

With every step the monster took and every movement of her arm, the shape of Lagan’s body strayed farther from the human form.

At first, the monster avoided Lagan’s vital points, ensuring he wouldn’t die.

“Lagan!”

But at some point, she realized that no matter how many times she stabbed and slashed, her opponent wouldn’t die.

“Haa…Haa…”

The monster’s breathing grew heavier, and her hunger was fully contained within her sword.

It was no longer a battle or slaughter—it was butchery. Her sword, like a butcher’s knife carving through livestock, mercilessly hacked at Lagan’s body.

“Wh-what the hell is that…”

The shaman trembled uncontrollably at the carnage unfolding before her eyes.

Was that truly human?

What human could wield such martial prowess? What human could unleash such murderous intent?

“Ca-Ca…”

With a damaged jaw and vocal cords, Lagan desperately called his sister’s name.

Cadogan was the master of this world, yet she couldn’t control that monster.

“Lagan!”

No longer was there the barbarian who craved battle. Now, he begged the monster for mercy, pleaded for help from Cadogan.

Any further delay would shatter Lagan’s mind.

Cadogan immediately tried to end the Spirit Treading.

“Gagh!”

But an axe came flying, lodging itself in her neck.

The pain paralyzed Cadogan’s thoughts, and through her blurring vision, she saw the leering monster.

Impossible…

That was merely an afterimage of karma, an illusion created by the past. Even so, that illusion was encroaching upon the mental world created by Cadogan.

How high must the original’s rank be, how strong must its ego be, for such a thing to be possible?

The barbarians couldn’t even begin to fathom it. They could only writhe in pain.

But then…

“…!”

The monster’s gaze darted away.

At the end of its gaze stood a man, whose plain features and youthful appearance didn’t fit the scene of slaughter at all.

The monster, with the same wicked footwork that had toyed with the barbarians, instantly closed the distance to the man and attacked without hesitation.

Just as she had done to the barbarians, the monster intended to thoroughly negate his dignity in an inhuman way.

But as her attack was about to land—

“AHHHHHHHH!!!”

The monster screamed. Her form was collapsing.

The man seized the defenseless monster by the throat, and she transformed into a single sword.

“…”

The man took the sword that the monster had become and abruptly left the place.

“Ah…ah…”

The barbarians couldn’t follow the surreal scene.

Freed from the monster, their consciousness flickered out.

Sounds of sharp gasps filled the basement one after another as the barbarians awoke.

“…”

Lagan panted for a while with a dazed expression. Then, he turned his gaze toward his sister.

“…”

“…”

They looked at each other and nodded.

“This came for me?”

The next morning, Risir untied the mysterious bundle someone had left in front of the manor and checked its contents.

-To Lord Risir