episode_0156

Leaving behind the comfortable and familiar Belloren Manor like a new hometown, we headed towards the destination written in Argantir’s letter.

The destination was Svinarant. A circular city built around a large lake, with its outskirts encircling it like a ring.

“Is the Abyss Priest, Ganagle, hiding there?”

“Not inside the city, but likely concealed in the ruins around it. If they were to be discovered hiding within the city, there would be nowhere to escape.”

“That makes sense…”

Freide nodded her head.

If the city guards were to seal off the city walls, those hiding inside would be trapped like rats in a trap.

If they had any sense, choosing to hide outside the city would be the obvious choice.

While Ganagle’s intelligence may be at the level of a child, not all of those following him are as foolish as he is.

“So, what do we do…”

“For now, we’ll enter the city and rest for a while. Once we receive contact from the ‘Shadows,’ we’ll begin our mission. It was written in the letter as well.”

“…I don’t like that prince.”

Freide muttered under her breath, her face showing extreme displeasure at Argantir’s blatant attempt to use us.

“I feel the same. But what can we do? We have to endure it since it’s helping us.”

I hugged Freide from behind, comforting her, resting my chin on her shoulder and whispering in her ear.

Being used for our abilities was a bit annoying, but compared to other options, dealing with Argantir seemed better.

At least he was someone who would pay a fair price. If we were going to be used anyway, it was better to choose someone who would compensate us.

“Just let it go, even if it’s annoying. We won’t have to see his face later on anyway. It’s for our future.”

“If Hilde says so… Fine, I’ll endure it.”

Freide chuckled softly.

She seemed to enjoy the position of leaning against me, as she kept lightly tapping my back of the head with her forehead.

“Hehe…”

Hmm… Is she enjoying it that much…?

I’m not sure. Normally, it would be soft, but now that I’m wearing armor, leaning on my head would just be hard.

Oh well, if she likes it.

I glanced at Freide, who was leaning against my breastplate, and chuckled before turning my head forward again.

Beyond the reins I held, the frost-covered mane of the horse swayed in the wind.

The distance was too far to walk, so we had to find a horse to ride, but the only horse available in the village where we stayed was a black pack horse.

So, I was moving forward with Freide in front of me, half-hugging her.

I was a little worried if the pack horse we hastily purchased in the village could bear the weight of two people, but it seemed to hold up well because Freide was light.

Or maybe the horse itself was unusually large.

The fur around its ankles was pure white, as if it were wearing socks, so I named it ‘Socks,’ but Freide said it was too rustic of a name.

– Then why don’t you come up with a name, Freide? What do you want to call it?

– Hmm… How about ‘Black Storm’?

– …That sounds even more rustic. It’s too long.

At the end of a dismal discussion that clearly revealed each other’s rustic naming sense, the horse’s name was decided as Schwarze. It meant black.

Thinking that calling it black because its fur was black, there was no racist like this racist.

If Lincoln heard this, wouldn’t he pick up an axe and chop off our heads?

However, there was no Lincoln here, and in fact, the man didn’t seem to be trying to free the slaves, not even the talking ones.

If he was speaking to them as if they were people, it was hard to say.

◆◆

Anyway, we rode our horses all day, and when the sun set, we found a cave to spend the night and headed towards Svinarand as vagabonds.

Along the way, if we came across a village, we would rest for a night at an inn.

It was an incredibly peaceful journey.

Thanks to the perception-blocking helmet and the dyeing magic tool prepared by Argantir, as well as the identity badge from Fernhilde, there was no need to avoid people’s eyes.

Perhaps it was thanks to the completely different hairstyle from the wanted poster in Brunhilde. No one would recognize me even if I took off the helmet completely.

Of course, even if they didn’t recognize me, my appearance still attracted attention, so I always wore the helmet except when sleeping or bathing.

And so, after six days.

By the time we were about two days away from Svinarand, a scream echoed and the clash of weapons blocked our path.

“A scream…? Who’s fighting?”

“Yeah. Should we avoid it?”

I pulled the reins to stop Schwartz and listened carefully to the screams to assess the situation.

“Haha! Did you think you could just push a woman and a wagon over like that?”

“Hey, hey! Be careful when shooting! How much is that woman worth, and you’re trying to blow her up!”

Rough and coarse language. Just hearing two words gave a rough idea of the situation.

“Bandits.”

“Bandits indeed.”

In front of us, a group of bandits who seemed to really like women were in the midst of doing business with an unfortunate merchant.

“What should we do? If we go around, it might take another half a day.”

I casually asked Freide for her opinion, whether we should avoid the bandits to stay out of trouble or break through head-on.

“Well, um… if they’re bandits, shouldn’t we subdue them…?”

Freide turned her head to glance at me, giving a heroic answer.

It seemed like if I refused, she would reluctantly turn away and pass by.

Although it might prick her conscience a bit, she seemed to value my opinion more than her own. It was a 90-point answer.

I lightly pinched Freide’s cheek as if to tease her and smiled.

“Of course. If we turn away from someone in danger, we wouldn’t even qualify as knights, right?”

With that, I lightly flicked the reins and headed towards the rough path where curses and metal sounds could be heard.

After a few dozen seconds of thundering the ground with our hooves at maximum speed, we discovered a small caravan facing a group of bandits.

There were roughly thirty bandits and about twelve in the caravan, including guards.

And the corpses… six in total.

Two laborers turned into quivers of arrows, and four bandits killed by swords and spears were scattered like trash all over the narrow path.

“Freide!”

“I’ll go ahead!”

As I grabbed the reins and shouted, Freide, as if waiting, spurred her horse towards the enemies, wielding the black iron greatsword gifted by Beloren… no, by Mother.

“What, who’s that guy?!”

“A woman? Not a bird or anything…!”

The bandits, taken aback by the sudden intruder, turned towards Freide and shot arrows at her.

“Yahh!”

Freide spun fiercely in the air, catching arrows with her cloak, and descended like a falling star, cleaving a bandit in half with her greatsword.

With a loud clang, blood splattered as the blade struck the ground.

The bandit split in two and fell to either side.

Before the entrails of the fallen could touch the ground, a black steel sword shot up like lightning, slicing through the waist of another bandit standing beside him.

“Max!”

“This damn brat is insane!”

The men, horrified by the sight of two bandits turning into four in an instant, paled and took a few steps back.

“There’s another one behind! He’s in armor… Could it be a knight!”

One of the bandits, turning his head away from the scene, spotted me standing there and trembled in fear.

The skills of these bandits, who made a living by raiding, were comparable to seasoned adventurers. The word “knight” held the same meaning to them as the Grim Reaper.

If there were about a hundred of them, they might have tried to fight, but with only about thirty, it was impossible.

Unless they were completely out of their minds, it was natural for them to flee in panic when a knight appeared—

“Don’t be scared, you guys! It’s just a woman in armor! It’s the same death if you get hit by a sword anyway!”

“Yeah, that’s right! She’s just a woman in armor! Aim for her legs, aim for her legs!”

They were out of their minds.

Perhaps the situation was so tense that the perception-blocking magic of their helmets was nullified. They seemed to have a relatively accurate perception of me.

That’s why, driven by reckless courage—or rather, reckless bloodlust—they could attack me.

“Kraaah!”

A burly bandit rushed towards me from behind Schwarze, swinging his axe fiercely with both hands.

“How foolish.”

I mocked his slow attack and punched him with my left fist. Since it had come to this, I thought I might as well practice unleashing my power.

A blue glint appeared in my eyes. The fist, imbued with the power of my unleashed ability and suppressed to minimal output, extended towards the bandit’s face.

– Crack!

The fist shattered the axe handle like a snack and gouged through the bandit’s face… No, it pierced through.

…Wait, I didn’t mean to go this far.

I was more shocked than the bandit I hit.

My left arm was wedged into the bandit’s face, near his elbow, crushing his eyes, nose, skull, brain, and even piercing through the back of his head.

“Grrgh… Ggweh…”

The bandit, with his tongue sticking out through the hole in his upper mouth, convulsed in a grotesque manner.

Foam dripped from his open mouth, and his trembling legs were stained with a dark color.

It was dirty, disgusting, and smelly.

“Ugh.”

Instinctively furrowing my brow, I kicked his upper body away.

With a thud, the shattered ribcage flew and tumbled over another bandit.

“Uh…”

“Uh-oh…”

Everyone around stared at the bandit’s corpse with faces that had forgotten how to speak. More specifically, at the center of the bandit’s face, pierced by my fist.

A hole human, convulsing and leaking its contents.

If his head had flown off completely, it might have been different, but with just a hole in the center, it was so eerie that it seemed more grotesque than disgusting.

Perhaps the bandits thought the same way.

“Ah! Crazy, crazy-!”

“It’s a monster! A murderer monster!”

“Heeeelp…! Save me, save me-!”

Watching them collapse in fear, dropping their weapons and running in all directions as if their lives depended on it.

“Uh….”

Feeling a sense of helplessness, I tried to say something, but ended up just drawing my sword and leaping towards them.

“Aaah! The monster is chasing us! The insane butcher demon!”

“Why is it coming towards me-! Go away! Leave us alone-!”

The bandits, gripped by fear, screamed in desperation and scattered in all directions.

It was like encountering a ghost in the middle of the night for a child, some even fainted or crawled away on all fours, tears streaming down their faces.

…What is this?

Instead of gracefully defeating the bandits and rescuing the merchants, my plan to debut as a hero in Perehilde was completely shattered.

The scene I had orchestrated was not that of a heroic figure, but rather a scene straight out of a slasher horror film, filled with screams and cries.

“Ugh…! Quick, quick, run away…!”

…Even the merchants are running away.

Instead of thanking us for saving them, they abandoned their carts and ran in the opposite direction of the bandits.

Their desperation was so palpable that I couldn’t help but wonder if they could have won even without us, given how fiercely they fought until the end.