Chapter 118
Chapter 118
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Purging the Den
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In the past, maybe it would have been different, but to the Arsen of today, a few dozen bandits were no challenge at all.
He had absorbed essences, granting him strength and agility that surpassed ordinary knights, along with overwhelming equipment and skills.
The bandits' shoddy weapons here only played to his advantage.
Some bandits managed to acquire decent arms through various channels, and their attack power could threaten even knights.
In those cases, even a knight would feel the pressure from sheer overwhelming numbers and violence.
But the weapons these bandits wielded were at best rusty iron swords—pathetic things that couldn't even trigger the protective enchantments on his armor.
The armor's spells didn't react to attacks weak enough not to pierce the plate. Otherwise, it'd be inconvenient as hell if they fired off from mere flying pebbles.
To put this power gap in realistic terms, it was like pitting a tank against medieval infantry armed with spears and swords.
“Gaaahhh—!”
Blood, death, terror.
Amid the chaos, Arsen swung his axe.
Fleeing offered better odds of survival than fighting back, but it only bought a few seconds at most.
Surprisingly, the bandits' village inside the cave was brightly lit.
Magic lanterns installed by the ruins' ancient builders illuminated the cavern ceiling.
Thanks to that stark white light, Arsen could witness the vivid blood and death without relying on his night vision.
He swung the axe down again, claiming another life. Then, from far off, came the crack of lightning.
One of the bandits screamed it out.
“Magic users!”
The others hanging back joined the fray.
With Maroon guarding them fiercely, three mages at the rear raised their staves and unleashed lightning spells.
Bandits dropped one by one with each thunderclap.
Eloise drew a long, sleek staff she'd brought from the Darkwood Forest and pointed it at the ground.
Vines erupted from her feet, shooting out at tremendous speed to encircle the village in moments.
A few trying to flee got snared by the ankles and toppled, soon paralyzed by the venom in the thorns.
Some charged the mages in desperation, but Maroon's flail stopped them cold.
Maroon might be weak for a knight, but he could protect the mages from a handful of bandits.
Confirming that, Arsen resumed the slaughter.
“Please, spare me—!”
A bandit's desperate plea ended as his body caught on the axe blade and split apart.
Swing the axe, screams rang out, blood and flesh sprayed—an endless one-sided massacre.
The numb killing brought no joy or disgust. Just boredom.
After lopping off about fifteen heads, something ahead shattered, kicking up a cloud of dust.
‘The boss shows up.’
He'd wondered if there'd even be one, but there was a Ma-in after all.
Arsen inwardly sighed at the annoyance.
Moments later, he steeled himself and eyed the Ma-in emerging from the ruined house.
At a glance, it resembled an orangutan.
Short legs, longer arms on an ape-like torso. Differences: no fur, elongated threatening claws on the hands, and a protruding muzzle like a crocodile's.
To fight the Ma-in, Arsen tensed his legs and spun the axe lightly.
That's when the Ma-in, smashing dramatically through the house for its entrance, started running—on all fours.
Not toward Arsen.
Toward the opposite direction.
“What?”
He hadn't considered it fleeing without a fight. Arsen's face went blank despite himself.
In that gap, the Ma-in easily vaulted over Eloise's vine barrier.
Shaking off his surprise, Arsen kicked off the ground to pursue.
‘I can catch it!’
Since acquiring essences, Arsen's body had changed dramatically, his running speed greatly improved.
Slower than a galloper, sure, but in a short sprint, he outpaced most mounts.
The Ma-in was surprisingly fast for its bulk. Maybe those orangutan arms helped in its gait. Unfortunately, not enough to shake Arsen.
In mere seconds, Arsen closed in. Sensing it, he channeled mana into the axe and swung.
An invisible blade launched from the axe head, slicing through the air to sever one of the orangutan’s legs halfway.
The glancing blow from mid-stride didn't fully amputate, but it was enough to halt the escape.
■■■■■------!!
A roar laced with pain. The halted orangutan glanced at its leg, bellowed again—scream or shout unclear—and charged Arsen.
Sadly, the limp ruined any momentum from that roar.
Its long arms and claws threatened with reach and power, but that was it.
Arsen read the sweeping claw attack, ducked low, and countered by hacking off the attacking arm with his axe.
The severed limb flopped on the ground as a deafening screech echoed.
■■■■■■■■■■■------!!
Already in a cave, the echoes made it unbearably loud.
Ignoring it, Arsen struck again. The sharp axe cleaved skin, flesh, and bone, lopping off the remaining right arm.
Now the Ma-in was an armless orangutan.
It looked stripped of any fight, but Arsen never dropped his guard.
Some Ma-in mixed traits from various magic beasts, gaining diverse abilities—enough tales of knights dying from carelessness to fill a book.
‘Take the eyes too...’
No bravado from the strong. Arsen methodically dismantled the far weaker foe with caution.
He smashed the eyes just enough not to kill, then severed both legs to strip its mobility.
His actions carried a solemnity like a lifelong craftsman at work.
Then, something shot from the Ma-in's mouth.
‘As expected.’
It spat a bright yellow venom.
He considered blocking with the axe, but getting filth on his weapon soured the idea. Arsen tilted his head aside to dodge.
The venom hit the ground and sizzled like acid.
“You filthy mutt...”
Realizing its last resort failed with no scream in response, the Ma-in spat curses in a despairing voice.
Approaching, Arsen said quietly.
“Got some questions.”
“Grraaah...”
“Answer truthfully. Lie or refuse, and the pain drags on. Cooperate, and it ends quick.”
The Ma-in tried turning to look, but couldn't. Its eyes were already crushed by the axe.
Weeping blood mixed with vitreous fluid, it muttered slyly.
“Spare my life and...”
■■■■■■■------!!
Hoping to bargain, the Ma-in screamed from agony in its gut.
Its severed limbs already hurt, but this pierced deeper, like searing iron pressed to flesh.
It couldn't know Arsen had pulled a heating shield from his spatial pack, infused it with mana to glow red-hot, and applied it to the belly. Blind as it was.
Arsen gazed down impassively and spoke again.
To the Ma-in, his voice sounded like the reaper's.
“You choose: endless pain, or talk and go clean.”
Few places exposed the world's tragedies and evils as rawly as a bandit's lair.
This cave village was no exception.
“Played a lot of games, huh. With people.”
Much of the village's decor came from human bones and hides.
Not just convenience. Bandits usually ate tainted plants or magic beast meat—tough hides and bones from beasts outvalued human ones.
Yet they decorated with human remains out of pure malice.
Endless spite toward humans like themselves, living peacefully in purified lands.
Old traumas surfaced, and Arsen felt hatred for bandits boil within.
Calming himself, he asked again.
“How'd you get in here? Climbed the cliff?”
Seconds passed in silence, hesitation or defiance unclear. Arsen reheated the shield and pressed it back.
Sizzle—like cooking meat—and the Ma-in bellowed thunderously.
Once, twice, rhythmic presses turned the screams song-like.
A tune bringing no joy to singer or audience.
Screams trailed as Arsen pulled the shield away after a short verse.
Catching its breath, the Ma-in blurted desperately.
“I-I'll talk! Please!”
“Good.”
Bandits lacked a few things, patience chief among them.
For these acquired psychopaths, delaying urges for the future was too abstract.
Ma-in or not, awakened from their kind, they gained no new humanity.
“There—in that corner. A passage. Where I was headed.”
The Ma-in explained: they never expected the cliff path Arsen's group used to be viable.
They slipped through a gap in fallen rocks amid the brush, claiming the passage lay that way.
“You lot—all the bandits here?”
“Yeah.”
“Why here specifically? What do you know about these ruins?”
“Nothing. We just liked the constant light inside, made it our home.”
Further questions yielded dull answers.
Just that a flaw let into the ruins; they widened it for their den. That was it.
Nothing more worth asking, Arsen swung the axe clean through the Ma-in's neck.
A swift, promised end.
Just then, Maroon approached Arsen.
“Uh, Sir Arsen?”
“Speak.”
Maroon shivered, reading something in Arsen's eyes that chilled him.
Stammering a moment, he spoke.
“Some bandits over there seem off. Claiming to be locals from a nearby fortress...”
“Let's check.”
Soon, Arsen faced the self-proclaimed fortress folk.
Unlike other bandits, they looked out of place.
Cleaner clothes, sluggish movements giving a listless air—three men and women.
Seeing the axe-wielding slaughterer approach, the woman up front dropped to her knees quick.
“Sir Knight! Mercy! We're not bandits!”
A herbivore's terrified demeanor.
Natural enough. At her feet lay shards of a bandit's skull, crushed by Arsen's kick moments ago.
To them, Arsen butchering the fearsome bandits like scarecrows must seem god or devil.
Even now, the Ma-in's blood dripped from his axe, glinting in the magic lantern light.
“Kidnapped?”
“Yes! That's right!”
“How long?”
“About three days!”
“Stick out your tongue.”
Understanding, the woman yanked her tongue out to show the root.
Darkish, but still vividly red.
Meaning she hadn't fully turned bandit.
The others too: recent kidnapping and magic beast blood ingestion meant mild mutations.
Arsen pondered briefly, then ordered.
“Wait here.”
The other bandits were already wiped out.
Stragglers scattering were bound or slain by Eloise's vines; desperate chargers fell easily to Maroon or the mages.
“What now?”
“If the fortress isn't too far, we'll drop them off on exit. They seem salvageable.”
Arsen eyed the villagers—drunk on magic beast blood but not fully turned, still in limbo.
Weeks of steady doses would've been irreversible, but not these.
Thinking of Raf Ram stabbed his heart like a long-buried thorn.
Maroon nodded with a hum.
“Then we'll dose them with Sheep Horn Wolf elixir to knock 'em out. Ruta, got the meds?”
Sheep Horn Wolf elixir: brew from that magic beast's heart. Let normals endure outer world's toxins.
But it induced coma instead, barring any activity.
Handing the villagers to the two mages, Arsen searched the passage the bandit mentioned.
True to word, a cave-side tunnel linked outside.
Not ruins-made; weathered rock collapse formed the gap.
Bandits widened it with tools for access.
“We can exit this way.”
Maroon beamed innocently, face of the world's happiest man.
Arsen's lips twitched toward him, then closed.
Exiting here meant unknown whereabouts; to regroup smoothly, they'd need the cliff route too.
Better he stay happy ignorant—for now.