Chapter 5
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: You Need a Beating Today
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"Hey, you slowpokes! Quit dawdling and hustle!"
Philip, the caravan leader in charge of this trip, yelled as quietly as he could with veins bulging in his neck while scanning the surroundings.
He knew full well that the number of bandits in Viscount Domos's territory had spiked lately. That's why he'd tried his damnedest to dodge leading this caravan, but...
'Damn it all! Why do I always draw the short straw on these shit jobs? Goddamn it!'
He'd gotten stuck with the gig after drawing the losing lot in the lottery among the caravan heads. No way out now.
'No! Pull it together. That's why the merchant guild threw every available guard our way. And the mercenaries I shelled out my own coin for? They're no slouches. Sure, my pockets are lighter for it, but nail this run and I'll make it back tenfold!'
"Hey! That fire's too damn bright! Douse another torch!"
"But sir, the horses could trip on roots..."
"Then you walk point! If bandits spot the light and jump us, it's on you! Got it?!"
'What if I trip? He wants me trampled under hooves? What the hell?!'
The servant bit back a throatful of curses but had no choice. Ignoring Philip's orders here could mean losing his head.
Dousing another torch plunged visibility into even deeper gloom, but it lightened Philip's heart all the same.
Deep down, he wanted to snuff every last torch, but that'd risk injuring the horses—not to mention the people.
This stretch was too treacherous for regular caravan routes even in broad daylight.
'On the bright side, the rugged terrain around here means no prior caravans passed through. Bandits probably won't expect anyone here.'
But...
Suddenly!
The lead mercenary threw up a fist, halting the caravan dead. Philip felt an icy premonition crawl down his spine as he hurried over.
"Uh... Mr. Bater? Something wrong...?"
"We're surrounded. Stay put inside the formation with the merchants till I say otherwise."
Bater's hand signals never stopped even as he spoke, and his battle-hardened crew snapped into action like clockwork.
"We're counting on you, Mr. Bater!"
Philip and the merchants huddled inward fast, out of the guards' way. At the same time, Bater and his men locked into formation on the perimeter, battle-ready in seconds.
'These aren't run-of-the-mill thugs. Home turf or not, how'd they encircle us without a peep till the net closed? Regular bandits my ass.'
But the bandits' leader felt the exact same chill.
'What the hell?! They clocked our encirclement already? No scout heads-up—how?!'
Henderson, the bandit boss spying from the thick trees, broke out in cold sweat staring at the caravan's flawless battle setup.
Then his second-in-command, Jang, sidled up with a grim look and piped up.
"We gotta pull back, bro. You know the drill—if they spot the net, we're sitting ducks."
Henderson's gaze stayed glued to the wagons, unblinking. No greed in his eyes—just raw fury and bitter injustice.
"Jang. See those wagons? Not a scrap of food in sight, but guards thick as flies on shit. What kinda caravan you think that is?"
"Bro!"
"Hell, I can smell the perfume from hiding here. Pitch black night, and those jewels are blinding me. Tell me—how's that fat pig Domos affording that crap? Your ma's medicine money's in there. My little sibs' last meals. And you wanna tuck tail?"
Henderson's eyes went bloodshot, ratcheting Jang's panic higher.
"I get it! You think I don't feel the same burn?! I'm pissed too! But not now! We charge, we're all worm food!"
'Shouldn't have stumbled on 'em at all...!'
This wasn't some premeditated hit. They'd wrapped one job, heading home for rest, when they lucked into the caravan.
His crew was beat, the net blown. Odds of winning? Zilch.
The wildcard was Henderson.
His grudge against Viscount Domos turned him into a fearless berserker with killer skills—but made him a nightmare to rein in on anything Domos-related.
'Told ya, boss! How the hell am I s'posed to talk down Henderson?!'
"I know, kid. Rush 'em now, we're all goners. Head says yes. Heart says fuck that. Heart!"
Henderson slammed his fist into his own chest.
"Bro!"
"Rest of you bail! Boss needs you more than this hothead. One rampaging boar dying here's plenty."
Whoosh!
No sooner said than Henderson bolted. Jang clawed at his hair watching the charge, then barked orders.
"You lot fall back first! I'll drag bro outta there!"
"Might as well all go."
"Same. Can't sleep leaving Henderson solo—guy'd haunt my nightmares. Lightning bolt to the heart."
"Hah! Face like his? Nightmare fuel straight up."
"You guys..."
And so the bandits poured out after Henderson.
"You morons! Told ya at least you bail."
"That's why we're Henderson Squad. Boss stick us with you for shits and giggles? Smarter, we'd have begged off."
"Jang, you... we talk later."
Bater's eyes narrowed at the sight.
'Too casual. They know the odds... death junkies?'
"Eyes sharp. Tough customers."
His men amped their auras in reply.
Henderson took one look and bellowed like thunder instead of flinching.
"Hahaha!! No speeches! Drop the wagons and scram! Might spare your hides!"
"Gutsy bastard. Wonder if your blade backs the bark."
Shing.
Bater hopped off his mount, sword out, lunging at Henderson in a blur.
Open plains? Horse advantage. Dark woods? Dismount or risk a tumble.
Didn't matter. Victory was locked either way—he had zero doubt.
"Charge, boys!"
Henderson roared, yanking free the massive greatsword slung across his back. He met Bater's rush head-on in a brutal clash.
Clang!
'Nngh!'
Henderson scowled. His build dwarfed the guy's, weapon heavier, swings deadlier.
Yet he staggered back—opponent planted like a rock. That faintly surprised look pissed him off worse.
"Not bad power. Figured enough to drop, not kill."
"Who the fuck you grading, asshole?!"
Henderson reset his grip and charged first this time.
Bear frame, kid-sized greatsword—looked sluggish. But the explosive speed exploding out widened Bater's eyes.
And that was just the opener.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
The swings hummed like angry hornets past his ears. Henderson's moves were freakishly fluid and quick.
Each blow packed a wallop by default, flowing seamless into the next—tricky even for Bater.
'Battle-forged swordplay on rock-solid basics. No two-bit bandit's style.'
But...
'Still... that's your limit.'
After careful parries and probes, yeah—top-tier skill, but no real threat.
Those heavy fluid strikes? Getting predictable. Easier counters now.
Best part...
"Huff... huff!"
'Shit, bit more pressure and he's mine...!'
Henderson's stamina tanked visibly. Burst king, endurance scrub—weakness exposed.
"Aura User, huh!"
"Not just a bear carcass—spot-on timing too. Just now figuring it?"
"Shut it. Like calling out my thick skull helps?"
'Boss, this prick... Aura Users all monsters?'
Aura Users channeled mana for body boosts—superhuman feats at peak.
Henderson's only other tango? The boss. Zero experience.
Talent, grind, cash—miss one, no dice.
'Cept rare outliers.
Up close? Powers defied imagination.
Henderson flicked a glance around.
Most crew down, injured or pinned. Silver lining: few corpses. Flip side? Skill gap yawning.
"Bro..."
A merc slammed the last holdout Jang's head to dirt. Jang craned up to Henderson anyway.
"Lord pays extra bounty breathing. Play nice—no desire for banged-up merchandise."
"Bull! Dead don't bounty! Eat this!!"
Last man, Henderson fought like hell. Quitting? Never started.
"Fair. Hack off limbs, keep breathing—no issue."
Bater swung for amputations. Aura User's committed cut.
Slash!
Sword trails splintered everywhere. No gap to spot real from fake.
'Dead! But...!'
"Hah!!"
No roll-over. Throat-slice or bust—Henderson poured remnants into a final swing.
That instant!
Boom!
"Gahhh!"
"Ngh...!"
Flashbang—both rocketed apart.
'What... the fuck?!'
Henderson barely righted himself—pro skill only. Anyone else? Lights out.
Even he buzzed numb, fingers dead weight. Statued, he could only gawk at the mystery arrival.
"Who the hell are you?!"
Bater, lesser jolt, locked glares and grilled intent.
Masked figure shrugged.
"Think I'd show if spilling? Blockhead. Anyway, you lot plus them—all mine now."
Voice mangled into eerie machine drone. Electric vocal fry for disguise.
"Knew it... you're with the bandits. Suspected from jump. Facing me? Kiss easy escape goodbye."
Bater struck ready stance, eyes drilling the mask.
Then.
Pfft.
Ridiculous snort from within.
Crackle-crackle!
Snap-snap!
Blue sparks arced wild over the masked figure. Looking down like trash, knuckles popped with a sneer.
"Who sending who packing nice? Stirring up my old bitch-ass temper? Fine. You need a beating today."