Chapter 275

Esther saw Encrid’s gaze sweep across Kaisella’s entire body.

Having watched Encrid closely for some time, she didn’t miss that glance.

Kaisella wore clothes that clung to her figure.

Her face wasn’t hideous, but that was all. It might appeal to Frok, but not to Esther. Below standard.

‘No, it was just that Maelrun—Frok—had especially low standards.’

Encrid had casually mentioned it on the way here, so she also knew what Frok had said about Maelrun.

And what kind of place this village was.

That’s why she had sensed the prepared spell ahead of time, and had already readied herself internally.

Esther’s eyes gazed at her opponent with indifference.

Looks aside, what was with the sinister spell?

So she really intended to burn off that man’s hair or whatever with that?

In reality, a lightning spell couldn’t kill Encrid.

Even if it was a prepared spell, Encrid’s body could now withstand it.

Above all, Esther had also added several reinforcements to the armor he’d recently acquired.

Still, should she forgive someone who tried something like that?

Esther had never been one for “forgiveness.”

No matter what the opponent did, she interfered and unraveled every method used to manifest the spell. Mana gathered and then scattered.

And she had already used the [Mirror of Vanna] to reverse the spell, twisting the opponent’s insides.

As her spells kept failing, Kaisella’s complexion turned pale.

When Esther closed the distance, Kaisella pulled out a dagger hidden at her waist and lunged.

And shouted.

“Shoot her!”

The crossbowmen, who had been hesitating mid-action, reacted.

Esther, unfazed, struck Kaisella’s wrist holding the dagger.

She revealed one of the most useful things she’d gained from the curse—striking with the strength of a panther.

The edge of her palm, reinforced with panther’s strength, crashed into the opponent’s wrist, producing a sharp and unmistakable sound of bone breaking.

Kaisella’s wrist, twisted unnaturally, flopped.

“Ahhh!”

The one who ruled the village through fear now screamed.

The startled bolt from the crossbowmen was blocked by Encrid, who had already moved.

He deflected two with his sword and caught one mid-air.

When the onlookers saw him catch a flying bolt with his bare hand, the thieves’ faces turned ghostly pale.

Clearly not someone they could fight and win against.

“If you want to live, it’s best to stay still.”

Encrid spoke quietly. All the thieves dropped their weapons with trembling hands. A few of the quicker ones backed away.

There were too many to chase down, so he let them go.

Esther took the dagger from Kaisella’s hand and turned it into a brooch for her heart.

As the dagger sank in and tore through her heart, Kaisella choked and muttered.

“Why, why?”

Why would a mage of that caliber be here?

“That’s none of your business.”

Esther whispered with a smile.

Just a bit, but she felt satisfied. Encrid, who had been watching, stepped closer.

“You fight well.”

“I suppose I do.”

At her quiet reply, Encrid nodded and looked around.

A mage had appeared, gritted his teeth, and prepared to fight—but Esther had arrived and taken care of everything herself.

Not a bad thing.

If she volunteered to act, then it wasn’t an issue.

Encrid considered her part of his unit now.

Whatever she did, she was still better than Rem.

The ones who had lost their fighting spirit, who were burned and shocked, who stood dazed—

And from behind them—

“Drop your weapons, all of you!”

The Elf Commander’s subordinate unit had entered the village and was surrounding the area.

How did they arrive at this exact timing? As he watched—

Someone who looked like a squad leader rushed over.

He looked around quickly, clearly flustered.

“All of them—uh, all of them… huh? They’ve already dropped their weapons?”

He blurted out nonsense in disbelief.

He was flustered. But what answer would asking the enemy get?

“… They said to drop them.”

But someone answered.

A guy with a charred right arm muttered.

His eyes were spinning wildly in desperation to survive.

“You dropped them just because they told you to?”

The squad leader asked back.

Encrid thought this was a pointless exchange. He just quietly stared at the squad leader’s exposed, shaved head.

From the squad leader’s point of view, it was dumbfounding.

The village they had been watching from afar had suddenly become suspicious with more torchlights appearing, so they pushed forward on their own judgment. On the way, there were even several lightning strikes presumed to be magic, so they rushed the entry.

But once they entered, everything was already over.

A few people had completely trashed the place. There had been signs of thieves using magic, but the presumed mage was now dead with a dagger in her heart, and the survivors had lost all will to fight. The rest were dead.

That was everything he could see.

The squad leader couldn’t grasp all the events that led to this, but one thing was clear—

‘Terrifying.’

He normally didn’t feel that way about his commander.

But there were people here even more terrifying.

“Want me to rip your eyeballs out?”

The words came as his gaze wandered to the pale skin showing through the robe.

Black hair, red lips, blue eyes. A mysterious atmosphere, moonlight falling on a curving body.

Everything momentarily captivated him. As a man, it was inevitable.

But even from just a glance, her response was murderous.

“He’s an ally. You can’t.”

“Then can I roast him?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’ll just blind one eye.”

“Just control where you look.”

“Disappointing. So the problem isn’t his eyes?”

Truthfully, Esther was awkward with human affairs and just about everything else.

Encrid thought as he replied.

‘Training this one’s going to be a lot of work.’

Anyway.

“I looked too. Are you going to take my eyes?”

“You’re an exception.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Esther acted like she was thinking, then shook her head.

Then nodded, as if to say she’d let his eyes be.

With a light sigh, Encrid gestured to the squad leader.

“Round them up and tie them all.”

“Huh? Yes. But where are you going?”

“Inward.”

Finn, Jaxson, and Sinar hadn’t returned.

They must have gone further in. The village chief’s house at the center was quite large.

It looked like a good place to hide something.

“There’s a scent of magic.”

Esther said, and Encrid also sensed something there.

Esther moved forward confidently.

Encrid walked beside her.

“You know the way?”

Just in case she was like Ragna, he asked.

“You think I’m an idiot who can’t even find my way?”

So that’s what she thought of Ragna.

Encrid internally chuckled as he replied.

“No, you’re no idiot.”

Then the two entered the village, and the squad leader watching the remaining enemies shouted:

“If you act out, I’ll rip your eyeballs out first!”

With that, he and his men began binding the remaining thieves.

By that time, Sinar, Jaxson, and Finn were already in the tunnel beneath the village center.

There were still remnants left behind by the mage.

Things like ghouls and werewolves.

And, of course, they were no match for them. All were cut, torn, and killed.

When the three arrived deeper inside, what they saw was hard to put into words.

“Grrrr… Meds, give me meds.”

One person who had become part of the horror muttered.

Another scratched the wall so much his fingernails peeled off and blood poured out.

A child collapsed between them, drooling.

There was nothing to say beyond the word “horror.”

—

Corpses of ghouls, severed heads and limbs of werewolves, and a few humanoid dogs.

They had collars around their necks—clearly used as guard dogs.

One of those creatures had even been split clean in half.

A trail of magical beast blood led the way. The village chief’s house had a strange layout.

Inside was a slope.

A tunnel leading downward.

It felt like a massive cave. Though the air didn’t flow, it seemed quite spacious inside.

‘A wide but closed cave.’

A perfect place to do something twisted.

Encrid and Esther entered.

Torches lined the walls, lighting the way.

Seeing the corpses, Encrid spotted traces of Sinar and Jaxson.

‘Looks like they cut through well.’

They arrived at a large cavern.

Inside, Sinar, Finn, and Jaxson were already there.

“You got here early.”

Jaxson said. Encrid sensed something off in his tone.

Several other tunnels branched off deeper in, with iron bars blocking some.

And behind them—people.

People who looked half-mad.

Encrid approached.

In the middle, a middle-aged man he hadn’t seen before was mumbling.

A stubborn-looking face. Hooked nose, sunken cheeks, prominent cheekbones, small eyes.

His personality probably wasn’t great either.

“Shut up, already.”

Finn, holding a dagger that glinted menacingly in the torchlight, said harshly from right in front of him, but he only pouted.

Light didn’t reach far inside.

Encrid took a torch from the wall.

He shone it inward.

“Meds… meds… Do you have some? Huh? Meds? I’ll be good.”

A woman so thin her chest looked caved in.

Just her eyes showed she wasn’t just high—she had lost all reason.

She’d spend the rest of her life chasing drugs until death.

“Huh? Got any meds?”

This was one of the better ones.

A man was scratching the wall with broken, bloody nails.

Someone had gouged out his eyes.

Next to him, a small child drooled while lying down—Encrid knew he was already dead.

There wasn’t a single sign of life in him.

His chest didn’t rise or fall. No sound of breathing.

“He was alive just a bit ago.”

Finn muttered behind him.

Sinar was busy scanning the area.

As an elf, she did her duty regardless of how horrific the scene was.

She uncovered various hidden things.

“Hey, do you even know what that is!? Don’t touch it!”

The hook-nosed man shouted.

Meanwhile, Encrid inspected the tunnels.

Every single one, silently and thoroughly.

“Stop!”

Sinar ignored him, and when he saw Finn’s cold gaze, the man fell silent.

With a dagger potentially flying at him, how could he protest?

Still, acting as if he had some backbone, he snorted and turned away, arms crossed.

Sinar continued inspecting.

Encrid found something strange in the next tunnel.

A human, but with one oddly colored eye. A dull, colorless orb without a pupil.

Black eye, muscular split thighs.

“What is this?”

Encrid asked without turning.

“Oh, that’s a failure.”

The middle-aged man replied casually.

“Failure?”

“Didn’t fully turn.”

“Was originally human?”

“Why do you care?”

Encrid stared silently, then swung his sword.

His blade passed through the bars and ended the life of the half-ghoul gasping for breath.

There were more like that in the tunnels.

“The werewolf we saw on the way here was similar.”

Jaxson’s detached voice sounded colder than usual.

Encrid turned. And walked.

He showed no rage or sorrow.

Finn watched him.

Did he not get angry because it was all in the past?

Was he like the elf—detached?

Unable to see this as tragedy?

Finn realized how different the elf was in this moment.

She showed no emotion at the horror before her.

“That bastard deserves to be torn apart.”

With that one line, she returned to her task—searching for clues tied to drugs or nobles.

Any lead here would help determine who to punish.

Whether they’d be allowed to kill him was another question.

Encrid walked forward.

Finn, sword still drawn, watched him.

Jaxson stood behind, but he had no intention of attacking.

He had asked a few questions when they arrived, got answers, then stepped back.

Like it was none of his business.

Finn’s heart ached.

It hurt to see the dead child, the drugged woman, and to imagine the screams that must’ve echoed through here.

She wanted to cut down the alchemist here and now—but it wasn’t her decision to make.

He was famous. His name was well-known across the kingdom.

Alchemist Laban.

He couldn’t create gold from nothing, but when it came to making reagents, few could rival him.

“Hey, I was forced to. The Black Blade Bandits made me.”

Laban muttered. What did he feel?

He spoke as Encrid came right up to him.

Esther, now in human form, silently watched Encrid.

No—everyone had their eyes on him. Jaxson, Sinar, all of them.

What would he do?

Even just delivering him to the kingdom would be a huge achievement.

Laban’s value wasn’t in his body—but his mind.

Would it be worth having him owe a favor? He was an alchemist.

Maybe he’d offer potions—an extra life in a bottle.

He experimented on people. Was that really wrong?

How many top alchemists hadn’t?

And if the Black Blade Bandits ordered him, wasn’t the true blame on them?

If a blade kills someone, do you punish the blade or the one wielding it?

Encrid stared into his eyes.

They were the rotten, guiltless eyes of someone utterly devoid of remorse.