Chapter 438

The bandits were a group that had recently been plundering merchant caravans passing through the area to fill their bellies.

They did not even have a name for their group. At the center of it was Jack the Swordsman.

He was a bandit, formerly a mercenary, who specialized in swinging his heavy blade without recoil.

To be exact, he was a deserter, but there was no need to recount his past piece by piece while living as a bandit.

Jack brushed past the man who had stepped forward while talking and moved ahead himself.

‘Have they lost their fear just because they can swing a sword? Or do they trust Frok?’

In situations like this, all you had to do was crush the spirit of the one who stepped forward most boldly. After that, the rest would naturally shrink back.

That was the plan.

Clang.

Without saying a word, Jack drew his sword and brought it down in a slash.

A trajectory approaching perfection, something he had only rarely experienced in all his years, was drawn out.

Jack felt it as he swung his sword.

Sometimes, moments like that came when luck was on your side. Moments when a slash fiercer than your actual skill emerged.

A split second in time.

He targeted the black-haired man standing at the very front. To anyone’s eyes, he looked like the center of the group.

If you killed the leader, the rest became easy.

Frok was troublesome, but Jack was confident.

With just a little more effort, he had the skill to reach the level of a Junior Knight.

‘Damn those Knight bastards.’

The thought surfaced for no reason.

But why does time feel like it is flowing so slowly?

Everything around him seemed to slow. In that moment, something flashed past.

It was faster than the raccoon he had seen in the mountains as a child.

Back then, he had only seen a shadow, so his friend had said it was a rabbit, but he had insisted it was a raccoon.

It really had been a raccoon.

While lost in thought, Jack suddenly saw the sky and ground flip over.

Huh?

Before he could even feel dizzy, he saw a body still standing upright on the ground.

He saw a man who had lost his head while still in the middle of swinging his sword.

Strangely, the clothes looked similar to his own.

His thoughts ended there.

Encrid, who had severed the neck in a single strike, shook his sword from the posture of a horizontal slash.

The bandit’s blood clinging to Aker dripped plop, plop onto the ground.

Jack the Swordsman was a mercenary who had recently made a name for himself. He was also a soldier who had deserted after holding out in the Demonic Borderlands.

He knew the terrain around here and had planned to take a hefty share and leave.

Less than a month into his life as a bandit, he met Encrid.

Jack was by no means someone who should have died from a single stroke. But that was exactly what happened.

“Run!”

The remaining bandits immediately fled. Even the one holding the bow did not dare draw the string.

Naturally. Jack the Swordsman was the reason this bandit group had lasted this long in the first place.

Otherwise, they would never have been doing this kind of thing around here.

But that terrifying Jack had lost his head in a single strike and died. Fear instantly seized them. The remaining men scattered in all directions, driven by instinct.

Encrid did not bother chasing after them.

“Even if we leave them alone, they’ll die on their own.”

Rem said as he sniffed. And why would they not? Scattering and fleeing like that in a land crawling with Fiends?

Was that not practically asking the heavens to kill them?

On the way here, they had encountered quite a few groups of Fiends and Magical Beasts.

While the bandits attacking them was strange, being attacked by Fiends or Magical Beasts was almost commonplace.

From the outside, did their group not just look like four people?

Some tried ambush-like tactics, but no one in their group would be caught off guard just because a Fiend used its brain.

For one thing, it was not common for Fiends or Magical Beasts to get past Dunbakel’s nose.

“Boring.”

Dunbakel said.

“It seems to be the season when this sort of bastard runs wild.”

Ruagarne added.

Since she seemed to know something, they asked, and she explained.

“There are times when Fiends surge in like waves. A lot of troublesome things appear, you end up fighting without sleep, the pay is not much, and if you make one mistake, death is almost certain, so naturally some desert. Still, the scale seems rather large.”

The bandits gathered around a single leader numbered over twenty. Were they all deserters?

At Ruagarne’s words, old memories surfaced for no reason.

To be exact, the words of a former comrade came to mind.

“It’s a foolish and stupid act.”

Encrid had answered that he knew that too.

“We should run.”

He had insisted.

A man-eating bear that had become a Magical Beast attacked a village. It was a village that had only just begun to take shape, with people gathering there.

It was not a request. It had happened while they were staying there on the way.

His comrade’s words had been reasonable.

Encrid knew that well too.

“Are you foolish or stupid? Trying to hold out here with our skills is suicide!”

The comrade had been angry. Back then, Encrid had still acted, even knowing it was a stupid thing to do.

The bear that had become a Magical Beast had eaten people, and Encrid saw the child of one of the dead crying.

A child who had barely survived, but had no idea how much longer he could keep living.

It was obvious without even looking that more such children would appear.

Children who lost their mothers.

Mothers who lost their children.

People who lost their lovers.

People who lost their friends.

People who lost their comrades.

Things like that were common across the continent. The threat of Fiends was always like a blade pressed to your throat.

People were dying. That much was plainly visible.

And yet, should one turn away simply because what was coming was dangerous?

Even knowing there were those struggling just to survive?

Encrid came back to himself and, for no reason, looked down at his own palm.

It was a palm thick with calluses that had split again and again, covered in scars.

What had he intended to do when he took up a sword with that hand?

It was a sword he had taken up to protect those behind him.

Because he had chosen to live that way, he was here now. So not stopping was only natural.

“Let’s go.”

Encrid said.

The difference from the past was that, back then, there had only been comrades who turned away from him. Now it was different.

“Let’s do that.”

The barbarian followed along as if it were nothing.

“We should.”

There was even a Beastkin with blinking golden eyes, and Frok as well.

‘Should I call this a luxurious group?’

That thought suddenly came to Encrid.

To be honest, they were all people who could cut down ordinary Fiends the moment they encountered them.

And that was exactly what they had been doing until now.

—

The group headed straight for the borderlands, staying in villages whenever there were any and camping when there were not.

No one was unfamiliar with camping.

If anything, they were people accustomed to it.

In any case, today was a day for camping.

Because there was a large city nearby, there did not seem to be any small villages around.

Soon, the city guarding the Demonic Borderlands would come into view.

Before sunset, the group found a place with two large rocks at its sides, leveled the ground, and lit a fire.

Dunbakel caught rabbits, and Rem minced them up and made stew.

“If you know how to cook like this, why do you act like that in the barracks?”

Dunbakel asked out of curiosity, and Rem chuckled as he answered.

“This is field cooking. This is proper cooking.”

“Then how about only doing field cooking from now on?”

Encrid sometimes thought Dunbakel was fearless. Though it did not seem intentional.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Rem asked as he slurped the stew. A drop of broth ran down the side of the wooden bowl.

“What has?”

“Sparring.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

It had been a while. Rem had been quiet lately about something, which was why Dunbakel had been fearless. But now he seemed to be back to his old self.

“Come out after you finish eating. Beastkin can regenerate even if they lose a leg or something, right?”

“Can’t do that!”

“Ah, was that Frok?”

Rem knew exactly how to torment people. Honestly, he spoke well at times like this.

It would have been great if he taught that way too.

Thinking that as he watched, Ruagarne, sitting beside him, spoke.

“Somehow, the atmosphere seems worse than before.”

“What does?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s why. Want to learn Frok’s gait?”

The words did not connect, but Encrid did not question it. It was part of the process of gaining knowledge. He knew how to put minor awkwardness off until later.

Encrid put down his empty bowl. They could wash it later at the stream he had scouted earlier.

If Dunbakel did not collapse, he could just make her do it.

As expected, Ruagarne’s teaching was enjoyable.

“You bend the knee of the leg stretched back. From there, you gather force in an instant to gain the power to lunge forward, and before that, you show your front foot to the opponent so you can close the distance while they are unaware. It’s called the frog gait.”

It was more of a charging step than swordsmanship.

In a way, it was close to a technique from Valen-Style mercenary swordsmanship.

A technique of deceiving with the front foot and striking out with the back foot.

Besides that, she taught him a few more steps.

Along the way, she explained how to jump down from a carriage, how to fight while mounted, how to fight a mounted opponent from beneath the horse, how to deal with an unfamiliar Fiend, and eleven secret techniques for blocking arrows.

The best of the arrow-blocking techniques was a shield.

But she said it was not bad to practice blocking with a sword as well.

She really was an excellent teacher.

“Not, not bad.”

Rem, who had been listening nearby, also nodded.

Encrid was the sort of talent who, when taught one thing, tried to master it thoroughly.

Ruagarne broke down every step of the process in order to teach him that way.

He even learned how to jump down from a rock while holding swords in both hands, roll, and recover his balance.

Before he knew it, the whole day had flown by with nothing but step training.

By the time he noticed, the bright moon was already high in the sky, and Dunbakel was doing the washing.

Though she was limping after being hit by Rem, pitiful enough that anyone looking at her would feel sorry.

“If you limp one more time, I’ll cut it off.”

At Rem’s words, Dunbakel’s gait quickly returned to normal. It had all been an act.

Her acting skills were rather impressive.

Encrid thought that as he went to the stream to wash away the sweat.

When he returned, he arranged his sleeping place and lay down to sleep.

Once he lay down, Encrid spent the remaining training time inside his dreams.

From basic steps like lunging, passing, and gathering, to steps that erased distance and steps that confused distance.

After waking, he tidied the place, reheated the leftover stew from yesterday, and the group moved again.

Summer should have been ending, but the weather only grew hotter and the air more humid the farther they came.

Ruagarne liked this weather, and Dunbakel did not care, but the weather itself was bad.

Frok originally liked this damp air, and Dunbakel was someone who prided herself on not washing, so it seemed fine to them.

After rain fell once along the way, the air became even more humid.

At some point while walking, Encrid felt as though he had forgotten something.

‘Forgot.’

He had left without even telling Sinar. He thought he had told her to say where she was going this time, but Krys would probably tell her properly.

Thinking roughly along those lines as he walked.

“Prey scent. Magical Beasts.”

Dunbakel said, and Encrid felt killing intent on the level of instinct.

This was an official road. In other words, it was a road leading to the city. Not a path formed by people’s footsteps, but a proper road laid with stones.

Would Magical Beasts appear in the middle of a road like this?

No matter how hungry they were, such a thing could not be common.

Especially with what lay ahead being the gateway city blocking the Demonic Borderlands.

“Grrr!”

Several hunting dogs that had undergone Demonization came into view. They were far larger than ordinary dogs.

After bandits, now Magical Beasts. It was not that they had not run into Fiends on the way, but Magical Beasts appearing here was a different matter.

This place was within the city’s territory. In other words, it was on the side opposite the Demon Realm.

A few ghouls appearing would have been one thing, but hunting dogs that had undergone Demonization should not have been showing up here, Encrid thought.

“Is the situation bad?”

Ruagarne blinked her large eyes and puffed out her cheeks.

She had done various things in the Royal Palace before and knew quite a bit about this place.

It seemed that the number of Fiends coming out from the Demonic Borderlands was not small.

Otherwise, hunting dog Magical Beasts would not have been roaming around here.

The bandits from earlier were the same.

Originally, bandit groups could not run this openly in this area.

If they plundered so openly, the people from the royal guard would come out, cut them down one by one, and sever their heads. Who would dare turn bandit near here with their life on the line?

‘Is control failing?’

As Ruagarne watched the unfolding situation, she began making several deductions.

All of them pointed in a bad direction.

Meanwhile, the four Magical Beasts fearlessly attacked.

While Dunbakel stepped forward and severed the necks of two with her curved blade, one pounced at the horse carrying the luggage.

And it did so by circling around to the side before charging in.

It slipped into a low thicket, pretended to flee, then suddenly lunged up from the ground and bit the horse in the neck.

One-Eye might not have been caught, but the horse they had brought here was just an ordinary riding horse.

It had not even been trained as a warhorse.

The moment its neck was bitten, the horse let out a pitiful cry.

Heeiiing!

Horse blood poured over the hunting dog’s hide. The hide absorbed the blood and turned a dark red.

It was an unexpected ambush. It did not go for Dunbakel, who looked threatening, nor for the other party members glaring fiercely at it, but for the horse?

‘Smart.’

Were Magical Beasts this clever? Even their size was unusual.

Pretending to attack awkwardly, then going for the horse made them look like Magical Beasts that had learned tactics.

The Magical Beast that had killed the horse was kicked to death by Ruagarne.

Crunch! Gurgle!

With a kick that made use of Frok’s muscles, the Magical Beast’s belly split open and its entrails spilled out.

“Strange.”

Ruagarne withdrew the leg she had extended and kept muttering the same thing.

This area was under the control of the Red Cloak Order. Magical Beasts could appear, and Fiends could appear as well. But there were too many of them, and far too often.

“Too many.”

“The scent keeps coming.”

Following Ruagarne’s words, Dunbakel added her own.

Rem’s gaze shifted.

He also felt that something was off. They had come close to the Demon Realm, but this was still beneath the city walls, so originally it should have been a relatively safe road.

Otherwise, they would not have built such a well-paved official road.

Encrid examined the horse’s neck. It was beyond saving. If something bitten by a Magical Beast was unlucky, it could undergo Demonization.

“Sorry.”

He had grown attached to it on the journey here, and somehow it felt like he had not taken proper care of it.

Heeing.

The horse cried out. Encrid cut the horse’s neck.

Horse blood soaked the stone road. Stepping into the flowing blood, Encrid spoke.

“Let’s keep going.”

If they were not turning back, then they had no choice but to move forward.