Chapter 272
Encrid murmured briefly as he moved.
“Esther.”
Tap—he pressed down with his left big toe and lowered his waist. From that lowered stance, he leaned forward.
With that one short motion, two daggers skimmed past and thudded into the rear wall of the inn.
Encrid drew his sword right then.
The inn room wasn’t wide enough to swing a longsword.
Especially with the wall blocking the entrance.
The others relied on that fact.
Even if he drew his sword in here, how was he supposed to swing it?
He could almost hear the servant mocking him.
Encrid used his left hand to press down the scabbard and adjusted the angle.
Instead of a horizontal slash, he shifted to a vertical draw and swung upward.
As the sword sliced from below, the servant was slashed from groin to mid-chest.
Sshk!
The sound of fabric, inner leather, muscle, and some bone being cut was like a quiet whisper.
That’s how fast the sword was.
Encrid had gauged the distance and cut precisely one knuckle deep.
That much was enough to kill a person.
All the adjustments to the sword belt and his footing had been preparation for this one strike.
He was satisfied.
“Kh, gkh!”
Because his lungs and vocal cords were intact, the servant let out a short dying gasp before collapsing, spewing blood and guts.
“You bastard!”
The tavern owner, also a bandit, shouted while drawing his short sword.
Even so, he didn’t step in.
He had just seen his man killed in one strike.
Then, from above, a black shadow swooped down and struck the tavern owner on the head.
Splat, crack!
His neck snapped halfway, and three claw marks shredded his face, tearing through his nose and eyes.
It was the result of being struck by a predator’s front paw.
That was the power of a Lake Panther, calm in peace but fearsome in battle.
Esther, who had killed the bandit in a single blow, landed beside Encrid.
Her landing step was light. She, too, seemed faster than usual.
From the feel of his own sword draw, Encrid could sense the state of his body.
‘Feels incredibly light.’
His condition was excellent. Very much so.
“Hmm.”
As he let out a quiet hum and looked up, he saw the wide eyes of the bearded man behind them.
Then the man shouted.
A cry mixed with tension, fear, and excitement.
“Kill him!”
A cracking sound followed.
Encrid’s sharp instincts quickly found the source—it was from above, behind.
“What the hell is this?!”
Another voice shouted.
The noise came from one of the beds—specifically, the one Jaxson had chosen.
Then came the sound of fabric tearing—rriiip.
Jaxson must have tried something, but had been blocked by fabric stitched to the ceiling.
The moment it ripped, something fell.
“Kyaa!”
Esther cried out.
What fell looked like a leather orb. It soon popped with a *pfft*.
It wasn’t exactly an explosion.
There was no pressure, no light—just a green smoke that quickly spread.
Even without smelling it, it gave a dizzying feeling. Poison gas.
And then—a whoosh—an arrow flew through the window.
Encrid swung his sword briefly, deflecting the arrow.
Crack—the shaft broke and bounced to the floor.
Stray arrows were always dangerous, but if he could dodge daggers flying at close range, this was nothing.
But the poison gas was a different story.
That’s when his attention shifted.
Behind the dead servant and tavern owner, the bearded man slammed the door shut.
‘Block the door and kill us with poison?’
Encrid held his breath. Without hesitation, he turned sideways.
Arrows came from the window, and the bearded man waited outside the door.
Should he break through the door?
No. The situation had already gone sideways—chances were the other side had something else prepared.
It was both instinct and intuition.
And it was right.
As soon as the bearded bandit saw Encrid’s swordsmanship, he triggered the poison orb.
Just a few breaths were enough to twist your insides and kill you with violent retching.
But the gas had a limited spread and only worked if inhaled.
If Encrid broke through the door, the same gas would be thrown into the hallway.
The bearded man thought:
‘Stupid bastard. You think you can just waltz in here?’
He didn’t know who Encrid was. Just assumed he was a clueless fool.
This was a major base for the Black Blade Bandits—did he think it was run by amateurs?
Even if the higher-up had taken elite assassins elsewhere, there were still plenty of skilled fighters here.
This was one of their strongholds, after all.
Despite appearances, the bearded man was a strategist who layered traps and contingencies.
He had predicted and assessed the situation, trying to restrict his opponent’s actions.
That’s what he believed.
Encrid, however, didn’t care what the bearded man did or what was going on.
All of that could be figured out later.
Just seeing Esther’s reaction was enough to know the poison gas was dangerous.
But the gas wasn’t spreading fast. It was heavy.
Smoke doesn’t usually have weight, but it looked that way.
It didn’t float far. It spread thick and low.
The problem was—it was spreading to where Encrid stood.
Then he just had to not be there.
Encrid turned his body. No need to steady his breathing.
The inn was a makeshift building—wooden and thin-walled.
You could hear Sinar and Finn talking from another room.
The bandits had designed it that way to eavesdrop better. Not that Encrid needed to know.
He turned and slashed at the wall.
No need for Ragna’s level of cutting power.
The blade cleanly sliced the wall.
Two more swings, then a kick.
A few pillars and panels cracked and gave way, creating a space just big enough for a person.
Encrid slipped through the new opening into the next room.
It was supposed to be where the elf company commander and Finn were—but only three men with gleaming eyes were there.
“What the hell?”
One of them muttered. Their mouths were just as foul.
Encrid didn’t hesitate. Since the gas hadn’t reached this room, he breathed easily and swung his sword.
Slash, slash, stab!
Two quick cuts beheaded two of them. The last got a sword through the heart.
Frok would have freaked out seeing this.
Shaking off that stray thought, Encrid punched the window wall with a gloved fist.
Crash!
The frame and part of the wall shattered.
Even with wooden framing, there were always bits of brick—Encrid just smashed through with force.
A few more arrows flew in from outside, but he dodged and broke through, leaping out.
He rolled onto the roof of the adjacent house.
While rolling, arrows thudded into where he had just been.
One was even aimed where he’d be mid-roll.
Rolling across the rooftop, Encrid slammed a palm down.
Boom—the roof burst and formed a hole. The rebound launched his body even farther.
More arrows landed exactly where he had just been.
Landing softly off the roof and leaning against a wall, Encrid watched a hand reach out from the inn window.
He was expecting it.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the wrist and twisted. No special technique—just brute force.
A crisp crack and a scream followed.
Crunch!
“Aaaagh!”
These guys had less pain tolerance than the assassins from before. Screaming from this?
Encrid yanked the broken wrist forward.
A thud and a choked groan came from the other side of the wall.
They were either knocked out or dead.
Letting go of the limp wrist, Encrid shook off his hand and stepped into the open plaza in front of the inn.
Things always go sideways.
Nothing ever goes exactly as planned.
That was to be expected.
So, what to do next? You just roll with it.
The Black Blade Bandits guarding the village didn’t know it, but with Encrid’s ability, stamina, and skill, he didn’t even need the elf commander’s unit.
They had no clue.
“Who the hell is that guy? Kill him!”
Someone shouted.
Encrid found himself oddly impressed.
It wasn’t just one or two enemies now.
There were at least twenty—and more kept appearing.
From all directions, glinting eyes and weapons emerged.
“…You’re way too good at fighting…”
One of them, standing in front, trailed off. He was one of the guards.
He had caught Encrid’s attention the most when he first entered the village.
In his judgment, that hesitant guard was the most skilled among them.
“Tsk… You should’ve just died quietly…”
The tone wasn’t an act.
Screech!
Esther leapt out from the inn and landed beside Encrid.
“The rest of your group is probably dead by now…”
Encrid neither laughed nor reacted to the words.
He simply looked around once.
Then asked:
“Is this the whole village?”
“You catch on quick.”
The reply came from behind.
Clink, clank—the sound of metal accompanied a young woman wearing clawed weapons on both hands.
The claws gleamed, each with three sharp blades.
Seeing her face, Encrid thought:
‘So that’s what she was hiding on her thigh earlier.’
The claws were long enough to pierce a person’s torso.
She was the woman he had seen walking around earlier—the one with unusual movement.
The second person he had marked.
The third one he had his eye on hadn’t shown up yet.
“Where are you from? Judging by your gear, you’re ex-military, right? Doesn’t seem like you’re a mercenary. Who sent you? What idiot gave the order?”
The woman asked again.
Encrid opened his mouth.
“Every single one of you? What, are you hiding a treasure trove here or something?”
The woman’s brow furrowed at the reply. They were just trading questions.
“You don’t get your situation, do you?”
“If it’s not treasure, maybe a stash of drugs?”
Encrid glanced around as he spoke. He didn’t answer the question, but he had roughly grasped the situation.
The number surrounding him was over thirty—maybe fifty. They all moved lightly.
All of them seemed to know how to handle a blade.
Even so—
‘Still weaker than the kids who came to the Border Guards.’
Some were clearly inexperienced—fresh with their weapons.
A few had familiar movement.
They reeked of the same training as the assassins from before.
Which made perfect sense. Where else would the Black Blade officer have recruited elite assassins?
All of them came from the bases created by the Black Blade Bandits.
They called them dens.
Even so, a few elite fighters had stayed behind to guard the village.
Two of them now flanked Encrid front and back.
“From that half-assed acting to your awkward demeanor… Who the hell are you guys?”
The woman didn’t shout. She had tried to agitate him, but it didn’t work. He had solid mental composure.
“Kill them or capture them and ask…”
The former guard muttered from behind.
Encrid still found them impressive.
The increasing numbers, the coordinated actions, the unfolding situation.
The conclusion?
This entire village was a bandit base.
‘Turning an entire village into a bandit stronghold…’
That alone showed the strength of the Black Blade Bandits.
Where were they getting so many people for this kind of banditry?
Should he be afraid?
No.
Encrid smiled without realizing.
Esther glanced at him.
‘Why is he smiling?’
Encrid was honestly enjoying himself.
The Black Blade’s power was something special.
Obstacles, crises, danger, traps, death, hopelessness…
Encrid enjoyed difficulty.
Because it was hard, it was fun. Because it was fun, he wanted to move again.
So were those flanking him threatening?
‘Not really.’
That was Encrid’s verdict.